#(Steve probably hangs out w them all like this Quite a Bit) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

midgardianweasley · 3 years ago

Note

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

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star-spangled-steve · 4 years ago

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 48: The Final Mission

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 2096

Warnings: Some anxious!Reader, pregnancy.

A/N: We’re getting closer and closer to the finish line, I can’t believe it!

Steve placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back as she pushed A.J.’s stroller, the family approaching the treed area around Tony’s, well, now Pepper’s cabin. It was the day after Stark’s funeral, and finally time for Steve to do the job that Y/N was dreading: returning the Infinity Stones to the moment they were taken.

She had asked him if someone else could do it, but the man had insisted that because of his eidetic memory, he was the only one who could execute it flawlessly. So alas, the woman agreed, though she still felt uneasy.

The last time there was time travel involved, her best friend didn’t come back. Who’s to say her husband couldn’t be next?

Steve, sensing her worries, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The look in his eyes said ‘everything is going to be okay’. She hoped that he was right.

“Hey, Cap. N/N.” Sam greeted as he and Bucky approached them. “Little buddy!” He bent down to get a look at Anthony in the stroller, smiling brightly at him. The toddler squealed happily in return.

“Hey, Sam.” Y/N responded, voice not entirely confident.

“You ready, pal?” Bucky questioned his best friend, earning a nod in response from the man.

Steve and Sam headed over to the desk that Bruce had set up, all of Bruce’s technological things on top of it, as well as the stones. Bucky decided to hang back with Y/N and A.J., knowing that she probably needed the support right now. He sensed her worries and gave her a reassuring smile, and she tried to give one back; the best she could.

“Now, remember, you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got them. Or you're gonna’ open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Banner instructed Steve, opening the briefcase that held the Infinity Stones themselves.

“Don't worry, Bruce.” The Captain said, closing the briefcase back up and grabbing it. “Clip all the branches.”

“You know, I tried.” Bruce suddenly grew serious. “When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back.” His thoughts were lost in the memory that was Natasha as he glanced down at Steve. “I miss her, man.”

Rogers nodded, “Me too.” He quickly looked over at his love, knowing that she felt the exact same way.

He and Sam started to head over to where she was standing with Bucky. “You know, if you want, I can come with you.” Sam volunteered, always happy to help.

“You're a good man, Sam.” Steve stopped walking and stated. “This one's on me, though.” As he approached Bucky, he smirked, excited for the line he was about to say. “Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back.” Oh, how the tables had turned.

Barnes chuckled and shook his head. “How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.” They gave each other a quick hug, and the brown-haired soldier sighed as they separated. “Be safe, buddy. I mean it.”

“It's gonna’ be okay, Buck.” The Captain reassured before stepping over to where his wife was standing, giving her a tiny grin. “Now you, little lady, better calm down.” He watched as her shoulders slumped and brought a hand up to cradle her face. “I promise you it’s going to be alright, doll. Not that difficult of a mission.”

“I-I know it’s just...” she paused, looking him deep in the eyes. “Please be careful, Steve. I can’t stress that enough.”

“I will.” He answered her in a very serious tone. “I promise.” The man watched as she bit her bottom lip nervously, and brought his thumb to her mouth, taking the lip out from between her teeth gently. He then leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss, knowing that he’ll miss her as he’s on his journey.

Her hand settled on the chest piece of his Scale Mail Suit, wanting to feel more of him and relish the moment. She gave him a soft smile as they separated, and nudged her head over to where Mjolnir was placed on the Quantum Tunnel. “You know, it’s a shame you have to bring that thing back.” She spoke quietly, not wanting Bucky, or even worse, her son to hear her.

“And why’s that?” Steve smirked, thinking he already knew the answer.

“Well, it’s, um... quite sexy that you can wield it, actually. Just like... you know, the power you hold? It’s... hot.” Y/N fluttered her eyelashes, and the man chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’ve found it sexy when Thor’s done it all these years?” He teased, raising his eyebrows.

“No, no.” She laughed in response, moving in a bit closer to him flirtatiously. “Just you.”

Steve, really wanting to drive her crazy, simply held out his right hand and watched her expression as Mjolnir came flying into it automatically. Her eyes lit up and he grinned cockily.

“Oh boy...” she murmured. “Looks like you might be getting some toni-”

“Steve?” Bruce called out, cutting her off. “You ready to get moving?”

“Yeah.” He responded back, not taking his eyes off his girl. “Sorry, guys.” The man placed on last peck on her lips before crouching down to give her almost-six-months baby belly a kiss, then one to A.J.’s cheek as well. “Dad will be back very soon, buddy.” He told the boy, stroking his cheek, before standing up straight and walking up onto the Quantum Tunnel, giving Y/N a confident expression. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t worried, so she shouldn’t be either. He then pressed the button on his hand that made the Quantum Suit appear on his body.

“How long is this gonna’ take?” Sam questioned.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.” Bruce answered.

“See, sweetie?” Steve spoke out to his wife. “You only have to wait five seconds and I’ll be right back here.”

She took a shaky breath. “Y-Yup.”

“Ready, Cap?” Banner asked, making the blond man nod in response. “Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?”

“You bet.” The helmet then appeared on his head, sealing his body up completely.

The green man began counting: “Going quantum. Three... two... one...”

Then he was gone. He disappeared into thin air, and Y/N gave Bucky a nervous look.

Bruce spoke up again. “And returning in, five... four... three... two... one...”

Just as quickly as he had disappeared, Steve was reappearing on the Quantum Tunnel, looking almost the exact same as when he had left; the only difference maybe being a couple hairs out of place. As the Quantum Suit dissipated off his body, his wife let out a huge sigh.

“Honey. Thank goodness.” She rejoiced, running over to him as he walked down the stairs, and they met halfway in a hug. The man just ran his hands up and down her back, breathing in the fresh smell of her shampoo. “How long were you gone?” She asked.

“Longer than five seconds.” He responded, pulling her face out of his chest to look her in the eye. “I missed you.” A kiss was then pressed to her forehead, and a small giggle from A.J. interrupted the pair.

“Cool trick, dadda!” The boy smiled from his place in the stroller, prompting Y/N to take him out of it and hold him in her arms.

Steve just chuckled at his son’s words, pressing a kiss to his head too. “Thanks, bud. I missed you as well. So much.”

“Hey, you got your shield back.” Sam smiled. “And it’s in one piece this time.” He joked, slapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Captain America can serve another day.”

At Wilson’s words, Steve shared a look with Bucky, the brown-haired man already knowing what was coming.

“Actually, uh...” Steve began, glancing at each of their faces, ready to see what their reaction will be, “I don’t think I will be.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Sam and Bruce grew confused as well.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned.

“If this whole battle and journey has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t keep putting my life on the line like this. Not when I have a family.” The man looked into her eyes, still seeing confusion in them. “I was once told that I couldn’t live without a war. And maybe I couldn’t then, but I can now. There’s nothing more important to me than you and our kids, Y/N. I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she spoke, “you’re done fighting? For good?”

He gave her a nod. “For good.”

She covered her mouth with her free hand and began to cry, Steve pulling her into his side instantly.

“Are you... sad?” He asked, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Not at all.” She sniffled. “I’m so happy. I don’t have to worry anymore.” She looked up at her husband, and they had matching smiles; smiles of contentedness, safety, and security.

“Steve...” Bruce released a breath, “good for you, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Sam agreed. “It’s just... the only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Steve glanced down at his shield one last time, trying to savour the exact feel of it, before holding it out slightly. “Try it on.”

Wilson furrowed his eyebrows. “W-What? Me?” He glanced over at Bucky, who nodded, signalling that he knew about this all along. Sam carefully took the shield from Steve and adjusted it on his arm, staring down at the red, white, and blue pattern. He was so confused; Steve was trusting him with his legacy? This couldn’t be right.

“How does it feel?” Rogers inquired.

“Like it's someone else's.”

“It isn’t.”

“I-” Sam tried to hold back his tears, still in a state of shock. “Thank you. I'll do my best.”

Steve grinned. “That's why it's yours.” He shook the man’s hand, the reality of what this means suddenly hitting them all.

Y/N passed her son over to his dad before giving Sam a big hug. “I’m so happy for you.” She smiled through her tears.

“You too.” Sam replied, referring to the fact that half of her anxiety would now be alleviated from this moment forward.

She walked back to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, both Bucky and Bruce and congratulating Wilson.

“So what are you gonna’ do now, Steve?” Banner questioned.

The blond man smiled at the thought of his future plans. “Be a dad. And a husband. I can help make plans for the new Avengers Facility, help train the newbies. Do charity. Teach an art class. Anywhere this new path takes me.”

The woman sniffled, a big smile never leaving her face. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me too.” Bucky added, happy that his friend could finally live in peace.

Steve just smiled at them, pulling his son closer towards his chest.

“Dadda, I’m hungwy.” The toddler stated, making everyone chuckle at how clueless he was about what was going on.

“Me too, buddy.” His father agreed. “Hey, how about you all come back to ours and we can order a pizza, just hang out?” He suggested.

“Ooo, pizza!” Y/N grew excited. “Yes, please.”

“I’m in.” Bruce added.

Bucky nodded. “Me too.”

“Sounds delicious.” Said Sam. “Considering you’re going to be feeding two super soldiers, the Hulk, and a pregnant woman, you might want to order a lot, Steve.” He joked, and the blond laughed.

“I’m plenty used to it by now.”

“I just need to take down all the equipment.” Banner stated. “You guys go ahead, it shouldn’t take me long. I’ll be there in 45.”

“Sure you don’t need help?” Y/N asked.

“It’s pretty complicated. I could probably do it faster on my own.” He chortled.

“Alright.” The woman spoke. “We’ll leave you two full pizzas.”

The group laughed as they began to walk out for the treed area and to their cars.

“So... does this mean I’m the new boss?” Sam broke the silence, his words hopeful.

“Not of me.” Steve stated with a firm, yet playful look.

“I’m not an Avenger.” Y/N giggled.

“Right, right. Only the people who are part of the team.” Wilson spoke, a huge smirk beginning to build up on his face. “So that means... I’m in charge of... Bucky.”

The brown-haired soldier let out a huge sigh. “Only during a battle.”

“Oh ho ho, this is gonna’ be great!” Sam cheered.

“See,” Steve chuckled, “you two are getting along already!”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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mediocre--writing · 4 years ago

Note

I loved your childhood friends ask! I have a headcannon that when they grow up and get to high school, Billy has a hard time because Steve is seeking out girls whereas Billy just wants him. Billy would definitely cry to his mom about it, especially when Nancy comes into the picture, his head in her lap as she plays with his hair and tries to soothe his broken heart and sobs. How could he fall in love with his straight childhood best friend?

it wasn’t steve’s fault.

billy had to keep reminding himself that it was in no way steve’s fault.

but as he sat in the camaro, waiting for steve to get out of his house, billy could see steve twirling the phone cord around his fingers while he blushed and talked to someone.

billy had been there for almost ten minutes. and steve had seen him, even waved at him, and was usually so punctual about leaving the house.

but it took a total of 25 minutes for steve to hang up the phone and come out to billy’s car.

“nance was talking to me about that party friday, you know the one? but yeah she wanted us to go together and so...”

“so you wanna drive her to the party. steve, she’s your girl, you gotta take her,”

steve sighed out in relief, “we’ll go to the next one together, b, alright?”

“of course,”

they hung out that afternoon but billy didn’t feel as up for it as he was when he was getting ready.

steve was constantly talking about nancy or the party and what he should wear. billy wanted to beat his face in.

it wasn’t for any other reason than he was being annoying. steve and billy were hanging out. that was the plan. it wasn’t steve, billy, and the constant thought of nancy wheeler hanging out.

they drove around for a while, which was nice, and they sang to music, and billy felt settled by steve’s semi-raspy singing voice.

he felt a bit better about losing steve to nancy until he went to drop steve off. it wasn’t anything that happened, just what he said:

“thanks for being so cool about the party. maybe nance and i can introduce you to heather, she’s super nice and i think she likes you!”

billy forced an easy smile on his face while he looked at steve, “sure, t, that would be nice,”

then steve left and billy waited until he got into the house before driving off like a bat outta hell.

he didn’t go straight home. he went to the gas station, filled up the tank, bought three packs of cigarettes, and a candy bar before driving around for the remainder of the night, until about 12.

steve never listened anymore.

in the car, billy had been talking about how he had found a second job at the pool and his coworker, heather, was really sweet.

then steve brings her up at the end of the night like he came up with her out of nowhere? did he not listen to a word billy had said all night?

and nancy. nancy prissy-motherfucker wheeler.

who does she think she is? ramming her way into their group, pretending to be all shy and sweet and cutesy when she just wants steve.

and the way she thinks she’s better than everyone because she’s taking next-grade level clases.

well guess what, wheeler, so am i!! you’re nothing special!!

as billy finished off the last cigarette of the second pack, he reached into the passenger seat to grab for the third pack when he realized how shaky his hands were.

glancing around the car, he noted that it was 11:45, three and a half hours since he’d left steve’s house. and he was going 94 on a shady backroad.

billy loved the feel of speeding, but knew his mother would whip his ass if he did.

rather than open a new pack, billy decreased his speed (to 70, but it was better than 100) and started driving home.

he rolled all the windows down completely, hopefully getting some of the smell out.

when he’d pulled into his driveway, his mom was standing on the porch, trying to shove the key into the lock while balancing her purse, diner leftovers, and another bag in her arms.

billy quickly got out of the car, leaving the pack of cigarettes in there and grabbing the candy bar before walking up the steps and taking the takeout boxes out of her hands.

“thank you, sweet boy,” she smiled as she finally got the key in the lock

they walked into the house quietly, setting all of their stuff down.

billy discarded his jacket in the coat closet while she had gone to change out of her diner uniform into comfy pajamas.

billy moved to the kitchen to take plates and cups down, setting them on the dining table suit for three people, maximum.

he opened the take out boxes and moved each of their dinners onto plates before filling the glasses with ice and water.

“thank you, baby,”

she pecked him on the forehead as he sat down at the table, then took her normal seat and began eating.

“how was your day?”

“better than yours,”

billy’s face scrunched up a little at her comment as she took a bite of her burger.

“you still smell like smoke, plus you were meeting with steve at 6, so you’ve been out for quite a while...”

“it��s nothing to worry about,” billy kept holding his burger rather than take a bite out of it, the smoking having ruined his appetite.

“billy,”

“promise, it’s nothing to worry about,”

“alright. don’t you both have that party friday?”

“why does everyone care about this stupid party!?” billy said, louder than he meant to.

“who’s ‘everyone’?”

“nobody, mom,”

“oooh, you’re all grumpy, calling me ‘mom’ and shit. why don’t you check the attitude by tomorrow morning, mkay?”

billy nodded and took a bite of his food, “sorry,”

“it’s alright, but you can’t get angry at me for something i didn’t do, billy,”

billy nodded and she got up to clear her finished plate, rinsing it then coming back to where billy was still eating.

she held his face gently in her hands and placed a long kiss on his forehead, “try to get a good nights sleep, hon,”

she walked to the back of the house, where her bedroom was, and shut the door, leaving billy with most of his dinner still on his plate and heaviness in his heart.

billy made it through the rest of the school week. the weather was warming up, nearing the end of the school year, and the days were pretty easy.

but he was avoiding steve. well, really, he was avoiding the priss, and since she was always with steve, he was avoiding him by default.

and it didn’t feel any better avoiding steve when every time he did see him, he was holding flowers for her, or picking her up from behind, or talking real close to her face all sweet.

the worst part was that steve didn’t seem all to fazed by not seeing billy those four days.

and it hurt. it hurt that, apparently, steve meant more to billy than billy meant to steve. it hurt that the priss could replace billy so quickly.

and so billy was getting agitated. his mom kept working late shifts and billy was working on training for his lifeguard job and homework and it all felt like too much was going on and he didn’t have steve there to distract him.

so, by complete accident, he got into a fight. a big one. with a senior.

for a junior, billy could probably pass as an actual adult, and had the muscles and fighting skills to prove it.

the senior wasn’t too far off either, though.

billy got knocked into (by accident) in the hall while he was watching steve and the priss and just... snapped.

he and the boy were both losers of the fight, neither looking better than the other and neither having been declared winner. plus, they were both marched off to the principals office at the end of the day.

billy, out of the corner of his eye, saw steve watching him get marched off to the front offices, but didn’t care to look and see his face.

more so, the disappointment that would be there. steve hated when he got angry and fought. he hadn’t gotten into a fight since freshman year, so what happened now?

billy’s mom, having been called in from work, seemed as if she was on fire when she came into the building.

she was a taller woman, had broad shoulders and a glare that rivaled billy’s. in short, she was intimidating as fuck (even in her cute 50s work uniform)

billy couldn’t look her in the eye.

after they’d finished with the principal (two day suspension for both boys), billy and his mom walked out to his car.

“where’d you park?” billy grumbled.

“i had christopher drop me off so i could make sure that you would be going straight home after this,”

they made it to the blue camaro, both standing on the drivers side door.

“mom—“

“keys!” she held her hand out and billy stared at her, “now!”

he fumbled in his jean jacket pocket before handing her the keys, walking around to the passenger door and getting in.

they drove the speed limit the whole way home, not talking and not listening to music. just the rumble of the engine as they sat in silence, both seething with different types of anger.

they pulled up to the house, both getting out and going to the door, unlocking it and billy tried storming off to his room before he was called back.

“what!”

“first of all, loose the ‘tude,” she gestured for him to sit on the couch as she walked back and forth in front of the coffee table. “second of all, no party friday.

“now, what the hell is wrong with you? huh? i didn’t raise you to punch a kid for accidentally bumping you in the hall and i most definitely never taught you to talk back to me!

“i get it, billy. we all have bad days or weeks or whatever but we don’t scream at other people or start fights because we feel angry! do you understand that?”

“yes, ma’am,”

“now, why don’t you tell me why you’ve been all ‘hormonal teenager’ for the past week. well, the past month you’ve been weird, so start from the beginning,”

billy took a few deep breaths, “mom, i really don’t wanna—“

“no, we’re gonna talk. i took the whole day off work so we could fix this, so we are gonna talk and we are gonna figure this out, because you’re not you, billy. you are sweet and smiley and funny and you’ve been a little shit recently,”

billy smiled a little bit at his moms crude language, something most parents would frown upon.

“i’m pretty sure that steve and i aren’t really friends anymore. not like we used to be, at least,” billy scrunched up his nose, a tell that meant he was pretending he wasn’t about to start crying.

“why do you think that? you and steve are inseparable, have been since the day you met,”

“he got a girlfriend,” billy was staring just over his mom’s head, pretending he was looking at her. “and he hasn’t been...”

“hasn’t been what?”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m gonna sound like an asshole,”

“you are a little asshole, just say it,”

“he doesn’t pay attention to me anymore. all he talks about is the priss and how their relationship is going. i love him, mom, you know i do, but i can’t hear another word about her! i hate her!”

“why? is she mean to steve?”

“not mean mean, but, like, i talked to some of the guys we hang out with and they think steve’s been weird recently too. he doesn’t do anything without her and he’s different. i can’t explain it, he’s just not the same steve,”

“billy, it’s his first love, he’s gonna be all sappy for her and forget about his friends, it’s just how it is most of the time,”

“no! it’s not ‘just how it is’ because steve and i aren’t just friends, we’re closer and she’s just pulling him away! he doesn’t even care that she is!”

“billy,”

“you don’t understand!”

“i do, i get it completely, but you’re teenagers and you’re gonna get upset. i’m surprised you and steve have made it this far without having a big fight yet,”

“but we aren’t supposed to have big fights! he’s supposed to listen to me and i’m supposed to listen to him! we get each other and he knows me better than anyone! he’s not like my other friends, he’s—he’s steve—and i can’t loose him, mom,

“he was the first kid i really got to hang out with when you kicked dad out, and he helped me through that. we’re close! i can’t just lose him now, after everything!”

“billy, baby,” he looked up to her, teary eyes and all, “what are you really thinking about right now?”

“i think... i think i like steve, like, i like like steve,”

“i know, baby,”

billy’s head shot up to look at her eyes, “you—“

“billy, you’ve loved steve since the day you met, it’s harder not to notice,”

billy starts breathing deeper then, and his mom moves to sit on the couch, pulling him into her chest as she plays with his hair while he cries quietly about losing his best friend and crush.

“it hurts so bad, momma,”

she shushes his broken voice and continues to play with his hair, “i know, baby, i know,” she tears up along with him.

they stay like that until the school day ends, then when the sun goes down.

billy ends up falling asleep on the couch that night. she gets up to get the knitted blanket off of an adjacent chair and drapes it over his body, not being able to cover all of his legs, but staying there with him all night.

it was hard, as a mother, to watch her son break into so many little pieces. but it was even harder when she almost felt her heart break with his.

she knew steve, knew he would make whoever he ended up with a very, very happy person. he was sweet and went out of his way to make others happy.

and a selfish part of her really wanted steve to end up with her billy, for him to be treated right by the only person he’s been in love with. the person who he’d unintentionally pined after for years.

she just wanted to see her boys happy.

#ooh this was angsty #let me know if you want a second fluffier part #stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy’s mom #billy hargroves mom #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing

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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

Text

a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week.

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself.

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job.

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder.

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly.

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today.

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question.

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart.

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that.

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question.

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image.

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal.

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short.

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes.

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand.

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office.

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next.

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture.

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did.

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building.

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people.

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good.

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home.

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator.

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up.

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though.

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety.

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile.

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays.

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table.

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you.

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink.

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.”

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization.

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch.

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here?

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face.

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point.

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before.

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself.

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed.

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere.

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation.

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care.

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable.

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now.

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.”

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.”

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed.

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness.

When will this stop?

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it.

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child.

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events.

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest.

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence.

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it.

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand.

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before.

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day.

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with.

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed.

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting.

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet.

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him.

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat.

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious.

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email.

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing.

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #prof!bucky #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #college professor au #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #ive been writing this for so long omf

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ethvn-torchio · 3 years ago

Text

The Laws Of Attraction | Chapter Three - Ain’t No Sunshine

prev chapter | ao3

Today was Steve and Peggy’s (hopefully) last interview with the twins. Peggy couldn’t help it; but she was, admittedly, drawn to watching Steve’s hands. They were just so...big, and veiny, and frankly, it was oddly fascinating.

They were supposed to be talking to the twins. Instead, Peggy was drawn to something that literally didn’t matter at all.

And yet, his hands were so pretty.

“Carter, you have anything to add?” Steve asks, hands moving to grip his pen.

Peggy mentally kicks hersef for not listening instead of staring at Steve Rogers’ fucking hands. “No, I think you covered that quite well,” Peggy replies smoothly, clasping her hands together on the table.

If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything.

Peggy clears her throat, gathering her thoughts. “I do have a separate question for you two, though, if you will...”

Hearing rustling in her room, eight-year-old Wanda wakes up fearfully. She knees Pietro to wake him up too.

Someone is rifling through one of their drawers, and the sound of moving coins can be heard.

Pietro grabs the flashlight on the nightstand, shining it at the figure.

"...Mama?" Wanda asks, her voice shaky.

"Wanda, Pietro, go back to sleep. I just needed to borrow some cash." Their mother’s usually soft, dulcet voice was tremulous and wavering.

"You...you said we could save the money, Mama. You said we could keep it this time." Pietro says in disbelief. She said they could save up their money to buy another bed instead of having to share one.

Their mother sits on the edge of their shared bed. "Listen, listen. I know...I know what I said. But if I don't get this money, some very bad things will happen to you two. I need you to make sure all the doors and windows are locked. Don't go outside, and there's enough food around the house to last you two at least a week."

"Mama," Wanda cries. "Please don't leave us again. Please!"

"I have to, I have to." She whispers, giving them both a kiss and a brief hug. "You'll be okay, I promise. I know you two can be brave for me."

Pietro blinks furiously while Wanda clings on to her mother's arm. "Don't leave, please, please!" Wanda sobs.

Their mother wrenches herself from Wanda's grip, stuffing Pietro and Wanda's money in a Ziploc bag.

"W-when will you be back?" Pietro asks shakily, tears running down his face. "You said you wouldn't l-leave us again, Mama!"

Their mother runs a hand through her tangled brunette hair. "I don't know, Honey. I'll call as soon as I can, okay? I promise." She gives them a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Be good, I love you." She says as she shuts their door hurriedly.

"No!" Wanda howls, rushing out of bed, Pietro in tow. "Mama, please!" She nearly trips on the dirty hallway rug. By the time Pietro helps her up, their mother is out the door already. The twins climb up to the back of the couch, looking out the window and watching their mother get in her car.

She looks at them sympathetically before putting the car in reverse and leaving.

And just like that, she was gone.

---

After work, Angie had convinced Peggy to go to a relatively new steakhouse in the area with her. Peggy wasn’t much a fan of that type of food but she was so hungry and exhausted she could probably eat an entire cow.

“I dunno, I might get the chicken burger,” Angie sighs contemplatively. “What about you, English?”

Peggy shrugs, reading through the menu for what felt like the thousandth time to find something that sounded appealing at the moment - similar to checking the refrigerator over and over to see if you missed anything appetizing. “The names of some of these are so nondescript. What even is a “Rowdy Rod” sandwich supposed to be?” Peggy asks.

Angie snorts. “It’s supposedly a classic. I’m too scared to try it, though.” She flips the page of the menu, “Ooh, they have a rib-wich.”

“You should get it. It’d be like a McRib, but actually good.” Peggy replies, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

Angie’s mouth goes agape. “You did not just call the McRib bad!” she exclaims, as if Peggy just insulted her entire family.

“I stand firmly by the idea that the McRib is overrated.” Peggy shrugs unapologetically.

“Peggy, we might have to stop being friends over this.” Angie says gravely, though the grin on her face betrays any credibility she might’ve had.

“We live together, Angie. We see each other every day.”

The two remain silent for another minute or two after that. Peggy was strongly considering getting a steak - or perhaps something else filling and heavy; she was starving.

Angie’s voice pulls Peggy out of her musings. “Hey…! Speaking of working together, guess who just walked in?”

Peggy looks up from her menu, and who does she see but Steve. Fucking. Rogers.

And oh god, now they were sharing eye contact. She prays he would pretend to not know her and hang back with his two other friends (who happened to be another fellow attorney, she believed his last name was Dugan, the other one was his associate, Bucky). Instead, he excuses himself as he starts walking toward Peggy and Angie’s table.

Let’s go to that steakhouse, Angie had said. It’ll be fun, she said.

“Hiya!” Angie says before Steve can say anything to Peggy. “You must be Steve Rogers, I’ve heard so much about you.” she says, shaking his hand with a forced enthusiasm.

“Nice to meet you, Angie. I’ve heard a bit about you, too.”

“Steve, tell me, when can I connect with your associate? I need his number for business purposes.” Little did Steve know, Angie only wanted his number for purely selfish reasons.

Steve chuckles, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets. “Feel free to go ask him. He needs to get better at keeping contacts, anyway.”

Angie quickly excuses herself, subtly winking at Peggy whilst Steve’s back is turned.

Peggy fights the urge to roll her eyes. This was going to be a very, very, long night. She takes a long swig of her rum and coke.

“Mind if I sit?”

Peggy shrugs. “Considering Angie has run off on me, feel free.”

There was something...refreshing, to see Steve not at work, in a casual setting. Admittedly, he looked more...natural, so to speak, in a business suit, but seeing him in jeans and a brown leather jacket was certainly not unwelcome, either.

“You ever been here before?” “What?”

“This restaurant. Have you ever eaten here?” he clarifies.

Peggy shakes her head. “No. I have no idea what to get,” she laughs lightly. “Angie said this place had really good reviews on Google, and frankly, I was tired of takeout.”

Steve nods. “Same here. It’s takeout all the time at my place. It gets real old real fast.”

Peggy doesn’t have much else to say. She merely lets herself take in this entire situation, absentmindedly mouthing the lyrics to the music playing.

Signed with a home tattoo

"Happy birthday to you" was created for you

“You like Duran Duran?” Steve asks, right as she notices he’s tapping his foot. So, he likes one of Peggy’s favorite bands - how interesting.

“Don’t insult me, Rogers. Of course I like Duran Duran.”

Might take a little crime to come undone

Now we'll try to stay blind to the hope and fear outside

“Fair enough,” Steve replies. “Do you think your friend will be coming back?”

“With as long as she’s taking? She’ll probably be eating with them,” Peggy jokes.

Steve laughs at that. “Well, I was just asking because, hey, opportunity arises. I think it’d be good for us to get to know each other outside of work.”

Peggy leans forward, gazing at him intently. Her elbows are on the table now, but she doesn’t quite care. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you ask me beforehand?” she asks with a quirk of her eyebrow.

Words, playing me deja vu

Like a radio tune, I swear I've heard before

“Didn’t think you’d say yeah,” Steve replies, and there’s almost something akin to a challenge in there.

“Oh, really?” she asks.

Lost, in a snow filled sky

We'll make it alright to come undone

“Well, would you say no?” Steve asks.

Peggy purses her lips. He was entirely correct in this situation - she probably would have found an excuse to not be around him post- work hours.

However, Peggy would rather die than letting Steve know he was correct. “I guess you’ll never know, will you?” She replies playfully, taking another sip of her drink.

“Well, you know how I’ll figure it out?” He asks, leaning in closer.

“Pray tell.” Peggy responds. This ought to be good.

“Let’s go to lunch tomorrow. My treat.” He says.

Steve Rogers, One. Peggy Carter, Zero. Peggy had to admit that was fairly smooth. “I’d be an idiot to turn down a free lunch, Rogers. You should know I expect lobster, though,” Peggy half-jokes (she definitely wouldn’t be opposed to having lobster).

Steve laughs at that. “Fine, fine, Carter. I suppose I won’t get away with taking you to Sbarro or something. How does City Vineyard sound?”

“I’m not opposed,” Peggy replies. “Meet you there at one?”

Steve smiles. “See you there, Carter.” She was honestly surprised he didn’t say It’s a date.

---

thanks to @notanotherpeggycarterblog for beta-ing!

#steggy #steggy fanfiction

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rosaliestark01 · 5 years ago

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter wants to help you but he doesn’t trust your new friend.

Warnings: Swearing (most likely), angst, jealousy,

A/N: colab w/ @annies-marvel-imagines. Part 3 will be posted on her account. GIF cred goes to owner.

The second Peter felt your presence, he knew that something was wrong. He could feel your emotional distress without even having to see you. It was strong and he couldn’t figure out what had caused it. He knew that he wasn’t the only one who was worried about you.

Your dad had called him last night thinking that the two of you had fought. Apparently, you refused to come out of your room since coming back from the mission and you refused to talk to anybody. In short, the Avengers though you were avoiding them.

That was another thing that pissed you off. They ignore you for six months and then have the nerve to say that you were the one avoiding them? Well, technically you were. The only person you’ve spoken to was Steve, but that was just because he ambushed you on your way to the kitchen in the middle of the night.

He also assumed that you and Peter had a fight or something. He had told you that if you needed anybody to talk to, he’d be happy to listen. You weren’t sure where any of this was coming from. He had been one of the many people who had ignored you for so long.

Whatever it was that you were feeling, Peter felt it too. All day, Peter couldn’t concentrate on a single thing his teachers were saying. It was like the only thing his senses could focus on was you. At one point, it had gotten a bit embarrassing when he didn’t answer his teacher right away, causing Flash to make some smart-ass comment about something. He needed to talk to you right away.

If only Eloise Day hadn’t beaten him to it.

“Does your dad know that you know?” Ellie asks. You had told her about what you had found out about yourself from the USB that you stole from Hydra.

“No. Not yet at least. I just can’t believe he’d keep something like this from me my whole life.” You sigh as you shove your school books in your locker. Yes, you were pissed. Your dad told you that your mom was a summer fling who died giving birth to you.

“You had a right to know,” Ellie tells you as she places a comforting hand on your arm. You just wish that people would be honest to you. The only two people who you can really trust were Ellie and-

“You had a right to know what?” Peter unexpectedly asks, causing you to almost drop your Science book. Peter catches it before it hits the ground and places it neatly in your locker.

“It’s nothing,” you say. You trusted Peter, but this wasn’t something you wanted to tell him. You knew that he would try to defend your dad and make up lame excuses. Peter idolized your dad and you also didn’t want to take that away from him.

“Hey, Peter,” Ellie looks at him grudgingly, as though daring him to push the topic further.

“Hi,” he says half-heartedly. Right now, he cared about you a lot more than some random girl who he barely knew. “You should come over today. May says she misses you.”

Peter knew that it was just an excuse to get you alone. Yeah, May really did miss you, but Peter was really starting to worry. You were always open to him, so the fact that there was something you weren’t telling him on top of your awful mood was causing him to freak out a little. Was it something he did?

“I don’t know.” Peter noticed your hesitation. “I’m not feeling that great.”

“It’s okay.” It most definitely wasn’t okay. You lied to him. Peter always knew how you were feeling and he knew that you weren’t sick at all. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded his head as he watched you walk away with Eloise.

Ellie had insisted on you coming to her house. She said that she wanted help on her Chemistry homework, but you knew that she was actually curious to know more about what you found out. If Ellie really was as smart as you knew she was then there was no way that she needed help with homework.

As usual, her parents were working late. You’ve heard stories of Ellie’s parents, but you’ve never actually met them. From what you knew, they always worked and Ellie was always alone.

“So if Tony Stark isn’t your real dad, then who is?” Ellie sat with her legs crossed looking at you curiously.

“I wish I knew. The only information I found about who my real parents are is my mom’s name.” You couldn’t really find any pictures of her, but you really liked her name.

“What was her name?” Ellie was a good friend. It’s not like she was going to go around telling people about this.

“Christine Y/L/N”

“What?” She looks at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite read. “I think I know someone who might have known your mom.”

“Really?” You sat up giving her your undivided attention. Could she really help you find out more about your past?

“Yeah, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.” You followed her to her parent’s room where she dug through one of the suitcases that were under the bed. “Do you mind doing a DNA test?”

“Um... I don’t know.” She finally found what she was looking for You eyed the syringe warily.

Bucky had one told you to never give your blood to anyone unless it was a life or death situation and even then you were supposed to be cautious about it. Steve and Nat were quick to agree but this had to be an exception, right? This was important to you and they would have to understand.

“Come on. It’s just me. You trust me, right?” Ellie prompted.

“Okay, just do it quick.” You hated needles. After a few seconds, she was done but there was another problem.

“There, um...” She looked around for band-aids. You ended up having to use a tissue temporarily until Ellie came back with the box. “These are the only band-aids I have.”

The band-aids were all Avenger themed. You pulled out a band-aid and put it on. It was blue with tiny shields all over it. It was actually kind of cute.

“Thanks.”

“So what’s Parker’s deal?” Ellie asks. You didn’t look like you knew what she was talking about so she continues. “He looked like a lost puppy when you turned him down earlier.”

“Well, we’ve sort of been best friends since we met,” you say remembering the day you met. It was in that airport in Germany.

“Weren’t you two fighting each other when you met?”

“Sort of.” You got ready to tell her. “I was fighting him but he wasn’t fighting me.” While you fought Peter, all he did was dodge and defend. Not once did he throw a punch your way. You kind of already knew Peter, but you had never really spoken to him until that day. You figured that Tony had asked him not to hurt you or something like that.

“Did you know that he actually saved my life that day?”

“How?” She scrunched her nose in confusion. You weren't oblivious to the fact that Peter and Ellie did not like each other at all. Either way, Ellie was your friend and you were excited to talk to her about this.

“Well, the whole fight has pretty much escalated out of control and a giant bus flew at me but Pete swung in and grabbed me before the bus hit me.”

“Gwen is a lucky girl,” Ellie stated as she got back to doing her homework.

“Gwen?” What the hell was she talking about?

“Yeah. They obviously like each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked her to homecoming.”

You just now realized that Peter and Gwen actually have been spending a bit more time together than usual. She started eating lunch with Peter, Ned, and Harry around the time that you started eating lunch with Ellie so she wouldn’t be alone.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You didn’t want to think about Peter and Gwen together. “I should probably go home, but it was nice hanging out with you.”

“I like hanging out with you too.”

Ellie had offered to drive you home, but you figured that you needed a bit of alone time. Unfortunately, you figured you should have taken her up on that offer. On the subway, you ended up siting next to a man and woman who couldn’t control their pet chicken. You finally made it back to the tower a little after ten.

“Y/N, where have you been?” Pepper asks. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hold any grudge against her. She, although often busy with running Stark Industries, had always treated you like her own daughter. You were sure that she would have told you the truth if she hadn’t worked for you dad for so long.

“I was at a friends house,” You say. Suddenly, your dad walks in and you could feel the anger seeping back into you.

“Oh. There’s pizza in the fridge,” he casually says as though he hadn’t realized you were gone for so long.

“Thanks,” you say bitterly, although nobody seems to have noticed.

“Nice band-aid,” he says after spotting the Captain America themed band-aid. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just an accident.” He hummed as he scrolled through his phone.

“I think Peter is waiting for you in your room.” Your anger vanished a little after hearing that Peter was in your room.

“Why?”

“Something about studying for a physics test.” You knew that was a lie. You share five classes with Peter, Physics was one of them, and there was no Physics test to study for.

“Okay.” Your dad and Pepper walked off (probably to talk about that dude who keeps spreading rumors about SI), and you went to your room.

“Hey,” you say. Peter was sitting on the edge of your bed and you knew that he was expecting you. He was wearing his Spider-Man suit, except he was holding the mask in his hands. You didn’t like the accusatory look he was giving you one bit.

“I thought you said you weren’t feeling well,” Peter says. You felt bad about lying to him, but you knew that he would want you to talk about what was bothering you. You weren’t ready to talk to him about it and even if you were you weren’t sure if you should.

“I’m not.” Technically, in an emotional sort of way, you weren’t feeling well.

“You were at Eloise’s house.” You sigh, knowing you were probably going to be lectured. “Y/N something is bothering you. You know you can talk to me right? About anything.”

“I know. It’s not that important.” Again, you lied. You loved talking to Peter, but you really didn’t want to talk to him about this one specific thing.

“You do know that I know when you’re lying.” Damn spidey-senses.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Peter stood up and you had a feeling that he would start pacing any second.

“You don’t know that.” You knew that Peter wouldn’t understand. He knew exactly who he was. You thought you knew yourself, but your whole life has been one big lie. You weren’t who everyone thought you were.

“Pete, can we please talk about something else?”

“Fine.” Peter was most likely going to want to talk about it again, but he understood that now probably wasn’t the right time for you. “Do you want to go on patrol?”

“You haven’t already?” Peter usually goes on patrol immediately after school gets out. You were surprised that he hadn’t yet.

“No, I was waiting for you.” You nod your head as you feel a sigh blush creep up your cheeks.

“Okay, just let me get changed first.” Peter remains standing facing you. “You can turn around.”

“Oh- right.” Peter awkwardly coughs as he turns around.

“So how was school?” You find your suit stuffed in the corner of your closet. It sort of reminded you of Tris Prior from Divergent, except your outfit was more flexible and mostly bullet proof. You really needed to upgrade it against whatever it was that comes from stupid space guns. Your side was still a little bit sore, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“A pain,” Peter scoffs. “Your emotions were really strong today.”

“Sorry.” You hadn’t realized that Peter’s senses would pick up on your emotions. You felt bad that it affected him so much.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he says softly. “I just want to be there for you.”

“I’m done.” You say.

Going on patrol with Peter was nothing short of refreshing. You missed spending time with him and it was the perfect distraction to everything you’ve been feeling up until this point.

There wasn’t a lot going on tonight other than one purse thief and a few shoplifters. You and Peter mostly hung out reminiscing about old times. It made you realize how while some things change too fast or too much, some things never do. Peter had the same brown eyes you loved. His laugh was still music to your ears. He was still the same person who saved you all those years ago.

Peter knew that he should have gone straight home after dropping you back off in your room, but for some reason he found himself wandering around in the park. It was like he needed to be there but he didn’t know what for.

After a while of mindlessly walking around, he sat down on a bench. He quickly stood back up again when he saw an all too familiar face. Eloise Day stood waiting not that far from where Peter was. She didn’t see him, but he definitely saw her.

A black van pulled up right next to her. It looked more like an old worn down ambulance that was painted black and rusting. Peter was ready to swoop in in case she was in danger but something told him she wasn’t.

A man exited the vehicle and shared a few words with your friend. She handed him something and in return she was given a small folder. Peter could instantly tell that whatever this was wasn’t good. He wanted to tell you, but would you believe him?

Tag List:

@eridanuswave @drishtisikarwar @spideygirl2003

Anyone who wants to be removed can message me or @annies-marvel-imagines

#peter parker x stark!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker x yn #tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stank #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x avenger!reader #spider man x reader #spider man x stark!reader #spider-man

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Mary Ruth Keller

Mary Ruth Keller has 42 stories at Gossamer, plus her stories are at AO3. She's written a number of short standalone stories, but she's thought through the X-Files mythology and written about it probably as much as anybody ever has. So if you want to dive into the mythology and all its drama, you need to go read her mythology fics ASAP. (But read this long, interesting interview first!) Big thanks to Mary Ruth for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Quite frankly, yes. The Kuxan Sum Cycle branches off the actual series following the Third Season episode Syzygy. I took the myth-arc as it stood at that time, post Nisei-731, and the agents in mid-Rift. Although I didn’t quite realize it when I started out, I was most interested in moving the myth-arc forward in a continuously unfurling narrative, one where Scully and Mulder became an effective investigative team who support each other as partners and friends again. After I started writing in my little corner of the X-F universe in 1996, there was a lot of stuff on the show that just happened, with no real storytelling logic to it I could fathom, but that seemed to be popular. I stopped writing in 2000 because I was frantically busy at my new job (which consumed far too many twelve-plus-hour workdays and weekends) and because my sister and I were trying to take care of my elderly, increasingly frail, Mother. So, I never expected, when I started writing in 2018 and posting again in 2019 (I reposted all my stories, in order, to AO3 and fanfiction.net, because Chermera would never have made sense without them) for readers to take an interest in myth-arc and character issues that the series writers had simply abandoned to go chase, well, anything else, especially if it made no coherent sense whatsoever. What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

The fandom was a lot of fun. There were many interesting, engaging discussions I took part in with other fans of the show, some of whom I am still in touch with.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

All of the above. I spent a lot of time discussing writing and characters with other writers on ATXC, except when I was actively working on my novels. Since I was doing basic research into microwave remote sensing of the Earth while working at the Naval Research Laboratory at the time – yes, I was one of those dreaded Department of Defense scientists the show had a love/hate relationship with – my writing happened at night and on weekends. Novels, especially the longer ones, take me about a year from first words on disk until release, which meant I didn’t have all the time to participate on-line as I would have otherwise. But, I enjoyed chatting with the fellow denizens of the Endies Board, and on the EMXC, Scullyfic, and Je Souhaite mailing lists. I’ve saved some of those posts and conversation threads on my older computers, where it’s fun re-reading them from time to time. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

There were a lot of generous, funny, very intelligent fans involved with X-F back then (not that there aren’t now; there are, of course). I started writing because I wanted to get the myth-arc and the characters back on-track, the long-term story moving forward and the agents again being the smart investigators I loved hanging out with on Friday nights. But, outside of having read a lot of myth, literature, fiction, and non-fiction, I didn’t know enough about the mechanics of writing fiction. Several authors were willing to help out, some explicitly through E-mail conversations, and some from general comments about crafting stories that were posted to ATXC. I had a real problem with how I initially handled dialog, which I had some E-mail guidance on, that was very much appreciated. I also had two quite diligent beta readers, one an on-line fan, and one a real-life friend, both male, who helped me with the direction of the Scully-Mulder half of Anath. I was, at the time, utterly exasperated with how the pair of them had become such complete morons on the series, both totally incapable of investigating anything successfully, which was affecting my writing the characters in that story. What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show? Ooh, boy. I’d like to say I started watching with the show with the Pilot, but I didn’t, quite. Tom Shales was the Washington Post TV critic at the time the Pilot aired – yes, not only was I a government scientist, I was living in Alexandria, Virginia, in 1992. He was intrigued by the characters and premise and found Duchovny and Anderson engaging while playing their roles. At the time, I was wrapped up trying to work on a PhD while still employed at NRL, so I tucked the review away, waiting until I had Friday nights free to check it out. I’m a great lover of science fiction, so I thought to give the show a try, eventually. [Lilydale note: I found a couple things Tom Shales wrote about The X-Files premiere in 1993: Fall 1993 TV preview article and a “Pilot” episode review.]

The first episode I sat down to watch was the First Season Darkness Falls, where Mulder and Scully get trapped at the logging camp with the Earth Firster, Doug Spinney, the logging executive, Steve Humphries, the Forest Ranger, Larry Moore, and the gooey green bugs. I was amazed by that story. It was as perfect a little piece of science fiction as I have seen on TV (except for one bit toward the end), with an environmental moral to it as well, where all the characters make good and bad choices, and they all suffer or succeed because of them.

What hooked me, really hooked me, were the first/second acts, specifically, Dana Scully’s actions, once they find the desiccated logger in the tree. The investigation is handled logically, in that it’s not the big male agent who goes shinnying up the trunk to look at the evidence while everyone else stands around watching and wailing, “Whatever shall we do!” No, it’s little Dana Scully who takes the ride to the upper branches. This made oodles of sense, in that she was this tiny woman whom two men could lever up that far with a rope, a hand winch, and pulleys. When she gets there, after grimacing (who wouldn’t, considering what she saw), she starts investigating. She does an on-the-spot post-mortem exam, while Mulder makes an ooky male-body-parts joke, but everyone takes her results seriously. I was thrilled. Here was a female character I could really relate to, someone who could hold her own in a difficult situation, unlike most of those on the tube, then or now.

I made a point, over the following summer, of watching as many re-runs as I could, catching up on the episodes and characters. The stories ran to science fiction and horror, which are my preference. Further, although there was an emphasis on the paranormal, several of the first season episodes were written so both Mulder’s wanting-to-believe-but-needing-proof intuitive, emotional approach and Scully’s logical, scientific, justice-oriented viewpoint each got the narrative coherently from initial crime to identifying and apprehending a suspect. It was some spectacular, complex writing, and I was hooked, hopelessly hooked. I discuss this some on my old author web-page, which still exists, courtesy of the Wayback machine), so I won’t belabor it. What got you involved with X-Files fan-fic? The shenanigans within the Third Season, quite honestly. The myth-arc wasn’t moving forward, as it had during the Second Season, which I really couldn’t understand. Carter had given us this bang-up start in the ABC Trilogy with all these new fictional possibilities to explore, but instead, bupkis. The MOTW’s were retreads with no depth or moral/ethical weight to them, except for Darin’s stories. The intelligent agents I had enjoyed spending time with while they pursued their oddball investigations were evaporating before my eyes. Mulder had always been this deeply intuitive character who cared about others and knew he could get it wrong, so needed Scully’s logic in their investigations, even if he didn’t always want to hear her observations and questions. But that character was being replaced by a cookie-cutter misunderstood anti-hero, who wasn’t thinking, just running off to chase butterflies, who was always right because he was The Guy. Scully, as an investigator, the little agent who could, was simply being sidelined. Sure, she’d argue with Mulder, but the writers had stopped giving her and her logical viewpoint a real role in their cases, Darin excepted, again. As the series went on, the Agent and Doctor Dana Scully I respected was replaced with this snappish little female whose only notable skill was running in high heels, who spent her time standing around with her arms crossed, and made pruney faces at Mulder if she were required to do any actual investigating. I hated that character, but, apparently, the all-male writing staff just loved her.

I knew about the on-line fandom, so I thought to check out if anybody else had noticed these “improvements.” First, I spent time at ATXF, discussing the changes with the series, that disturbed a lot of folks, not just me. Eventually, I tripped onto ATXC. There were writers there who understood the two characters, quite well, but weren’t that interested in the other problems with the show that bothered me deeply.

Like many fan-fiction writers, I decided to try to bring in, or in my case, bring back, what I was missing in what was being aired. Sins of the Fathers was the result. As I mentioned above, it was a far from perfect story, but I learned much putting it together, and it got a lot of positive feedback. So I kept writing and trying to improve what I wrote. Folks appreciated it, then and now, surprisingly, which was endless encouragement to keep going. What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? With work and my Mom, as I mentioned above, I dropped out for a few years. My new job is still microwave remote sensing of the Earth, at a University-affiliated laboratory, not working directly for the government, but the NASA/NSF-type funding for the research I like to do is much harder to come by, so it takes up a lot more of my time to keep funded and working. Adding to that, I haven’t found places like ATXC in the 90’s or the Endies Board, but I suppose lightning only strikes once. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Not really, no. I’ve enjoyed other TV series, but, I never felt those shows were just throwing away essential parts of themselves as X-F did, or, if they went bad, I simply stopped watching them. A fandom is, or can be, a huge time commitment, which, as I’ve noted, I don’t have that much of. I discuss this quite extensively in my author’s notes at the end of Chermera, so I won’t repeat myself. [Lilydale note: the long author notes are at the end of the story’s last chapter, not in the AO3 notes section.] Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

As a child, I loved reading myths and legends from many different cultures. So many amazing stories, so much that touches on truth. Greek myth, Norse legends, Islamic tales, Celtic fables, all of them. It goes without saying that discovering Tolkien’s fully-realized Middle Earth in my early teens was like falling into an river of endless delights.

In literature, perhaps the character I enjoy most is Sherlock Holmes. On television/in movies, I’d have to say: Beverly Crusher, (early) Dana Scully, Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5, Pa’u Zotoh Zhaan and (early) Aeryn Sun on Farscape, Samantha Carter on Stargate SG-1, Hermione Granger, and most recently, Lagertha on Vikings. Dunno, there might be a pattern there. Possibly. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Yes, absolutely. I started rewatching the series when it ran on BBC America, enjoying the first two seasons again. I’d actually never stopped thinking about Mulder and Scully; I just lost the time to write about them, until two years ago, when I managed to land some long-term funding so I wasn’t staying up nights writing proposals every few months. I’d have a thought about how to advance the story that became Chermera, so I’d make a mental note and play with it in my head. I also have two more novels and a satyr play left to go in the sequence of stories I want to write, so I’m turning over plot-lines and potential arcs in my head all the time. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I do read X-F fan-fic. Since the series has wandered so far away from what engaged me, and most fan-fic keeps up with that, I don’t read very much. As far as other fandoms, one was enough. Do you have any favorite X-Files fan-fic stories or authors?

Reaching back into the dark ages, I’d say Pellinor and Nascent. They may both be available on Gossamer. [Lilydale note: Fortunately, they are!] What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise? Zurvan is the favorite of my older stories. It, like Twelfth Night (Denha on AO3 to avoid confusion with another X-F story named Twelfth Night), builds on the past stories in their trilogies and brings the overall arc to new places. It’s fun to uncover surprises when writing and develop challenges to address in the future, which both of those stories did. Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I’d certainly like to. I had planned to write three trilogies with their satyr plays, each of them focusing on an aspect of the mythical Triple Goddess: Maiden, Matron, and Crone, in the X-F universe. Only, being me, I turned it around. Sandra Ann Miller (Samantha) is the Maiden, but I’ve just started telling that part of the arc with the transitional Anath and the first trilogy story Chermera. I’m approaching this trilogy as a coherent tale spread across the three novels, which is different from the other two. The Caroline Lowenberg Trilogy didn’t really get organized until Twelfth Night. It was only the third story I’d ever written, so perhaps I can be excused. The Dana Scully Trilogy was all interconnected, but that was more of an organic, rather than a pre-planned and deliberate, effort. I didn’t really grasp the full arc of what I was creating there until I was writing Chermera and looked back over the threads running from Rustic Suite through Anath. The next story in the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy involves the exposure of the Japanese arm of the Consortium, but, I need to read up on Japanese history, myths and legends, and world view before I write it. After finishing and posting Chermera, that’s what I’ve been doing. The conflict between Amaterasu, the Sun goddess, and her ne’er-do-well brother Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the god of, among other things, storms, marriage, and love, as told in the Kojiki and the Nihongi (both written down in their near-final forms at the same time as we in the West were just recording the first skeletal versions of the Arthurian Legends), will definitely get worked into the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy. I’m starting to put the arcs and plot-lines together, but, I’m not ready to begin writing yet. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work? As I’ve discussed, I do. Part of why I take my time is because Mulder and Scully are owed real, challenging cases to solve - the two intelligent agents with their own approaches, strengths, and weaknesses, remember. Partly, because I have original fiction ideas I’d like to pursue. Trying to do the best I possibly can in the sheltered world of X-F where I attempt to create stories with universal themes, well-realized settings, coherent plot-lines, and original characters who resonate with my readers is practice for the original fiction. I’ll never write the Great American Novel (whatever that is), but I’d like to write stories that are as good as I can make them and fun for my readers, so I keep plugging. Where do you get ideas for stories? Reading and thinking, mostly. I try to look for ideas that haven’t been done to death, or different approaches to old themes. I have four original novels I scribble mental notes on. After I bring this myth-arc I’ve been working on to its (to me) logical resolution, I hope I’ll be able enough of a writer to get started on them. What's the story behind your pen name? Actually, it’s my real name. At the time I started writing, I didn’t think to do anything else. On ATXC and Gossamer, I wrote several of the shorts that are separate from the Kuxan Sum Cycle under the pen name Lise Meitner. She was a Twentieth Century theoretical physicist who explained nuclear fission, then was cut out of a Nobel prize because the judges of her day thought Marie Curie and Irene Joliot-Curie were “enough” women physicists working in radioactivity to be so honored. [Lilydale note: here’s her Wikipedia page. Among many other fascinating things talked about there, she was nominated for the Nobel Prize 48 times in two different categories and had the 109th chemical element, meitnerium, named after her. She also escaped Nazi Germany in a plot involving trains, boats, planes, and an emergency diamond ring. You really ought to read about her.] Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

I’d shared the first five of my novels with my family back in 1996. They liked them, my sister especially. I’m not sure they knew what to make of them. I haven’t shown them to my in-laws, but, I think my sister-in-law found them on her own. We haven’t discussed them, as they aren’t her usual preference, which is Romance. One distant blood relation was thrilled to discover them on-line and wrote me about them. My sister, though, is my (self-admitted) biggest fan. When we were kids, she and I shared a bedroom, where I’d make up stories to tell her at night so she could fall asleep. She and I correspond regularly by E-mail (she’s in Florida and I’m in Maryland). Back while I was working my way through Chermera, she asked out of the blue if I was ever going to write any more. She was thrilled to hear I had been but she doesn’t have regular Internet access other than at her job. I made printed, bound copies of all my stories to mail to her last Christmas. She loves them, bless her. Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’ve sent Chermera to Gossamer, but, it hasn’t been updated since July 2018. All the rest of the stories are there.

At AO3, my stories are under: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrkeller. The Kuxan Sum Cycle is linked together at: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555492.

I’ve published the Lise Meitner stories under my own name there: Faustus Mulder; Late Night Thoughts on Evolution, Hard Times, and Lost Pets; You Just Don’t Understand; and Lux Perpetua. Since I could separate out the trilogies into their own cycle, it just made sense.

At fan-fiction.net, they’re under: https://www.fanfiction.net/~maryruthkeller

Again, the Lise Meitner stories are under my own name. Since fanfiction.net doesn’t have a linked series option like AO3, I’ve added a header to all eleven of the stories in the Kuxan Sum Cycle so far explaining the order. The novels all are tagged with thumbnail versions of the covers I made for them. Also, the literary quotes I started each chapter and begin and end each story with, are kept in the AO3 versions, but are removed at fanfiction.net to avoid potential copyright issues. Shakespeare, Christine de Pisan, the Popol Vuh, the Ugaritic myths around Anath, and others are all long out of, or never were in, copyright, of course, but, just to be on the safe side, I’m following fanfiction.net’s rules.

If folks care to write, I’m still at my old eclipse address: [email protected]. Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Enjoy it, use it as an opportunity to make connections and expand your horizons as a storyteller. Fan-fiction was much more of a home-grown effort back in the 90’s than it is now, when there are how-to books, of all things. But, don’t get so wrapped up one forgets about real life. That’s where all the best stories are.

(Posted by Lilydale on October 27, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #mary ruth keller

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peterparkrr · 5 years ago

Text

Father & Son

By @peterparkrr for @ephemeralstark (I loved all of your prompts! I tried to combine them! I really hope you enjoy <3)

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, other Avengers briefly

Summary: Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man OR Rhodey meets Peter and tries to become the best uncle that he can be.

ao3 link

There’s a boy standing in front of Tony’s couch.

Rhodey stares at him, narrowing his eyes a little. The kid’s frozen in an almost comical position, legs spread wide, one hand swung in front of his body like he knew that someone was coming and tried to make an unsuccessful quick escape.

“Who are you?” Rhodey asks.

The boy blinks once and then lowers his arms slowly until they are hanging limp at his sides. He turns and cranes his neck to try to look down the hallway. When he faces Rhodey again, there’s an uneasy smile on his face—not unkind or shifty, just unsure.

“Er, hi, Colonel Rhodes.” He taps his foot a few times, then glances over his shoulder again. “How are you?”

Rhodey tilts his head to the side. The boy’s voice is familiar. He’s definitely heard it before, but can’t quite place it.

“I’m doing well.” He leaves a pause between each word as he takes a few equally slow steps across the room. “Who—”

“That’s good. Really good. I’m good, too, but actually—” The kid starts shoving the assortment of notebooks, pencils, and loose paper scattered on the table in front of the couch into his backpack and then points toward the hallway. “I should go. So you can, you know, use the room.”

He’s from New York, that much Rhodey can tell. The accent isn’t obnoxious, but it’s definitely clear. Tony probably bumped into him at a scholarship event, or even just on the street outside, and decided to recruit him into his little collection.

It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s one in Tennessee that gets a ridiculous amount of presents on Christmas and some time in the Spring (when Rhodey assumes is his birthday). Then there’s the kid-genius at MIT that Tony waved through a bit of legal trouble after she got caught in an Iron Man-type suit of her own design. Rhodey’s met her a few times, when visiting the campus with Tony. There’s also the spandex-clad wonder who helped out at the airport last year. And that was definitely a kid, no matter how many times Tony dances around Spider-Man’s age. Rhodey knows the difference between a child’s and a man’s voice. It was far too high, almost squeaky at times, enthusiastic and—Rhodey glances at the kid in front of him now—an unmistakable New York accent.

A hand comes down on the kid’s shoulder and he jumps, just a little bit too high.

“Woah there, just me,” Tony says, squeezing once before looking across the room at Rhodey and quirking an eyebrow. “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to drop in.”

“I have to work, Tones. I have a real job. Not everyone has a multi-billion dollar company to pawn off on their girlfriend.”

“That’s—not exactly accurate. Pepper likes responsibilities. It’s a gift.” Tony looks Rhodey up and down, analytical, like he always does these days. He stops at his legs and clicks his tongue. “Braces. Any adjustments? I’ve got a new set downstairs. Should be even more intuitive.”

The kid’s staring at them, too. There’s a very specific combination of interest and guilt etched into his features that Rhodey usually finds on Tony’s face. In fact, it’s also there now, albeit a little more concealed.

“You don’t have to keep doing this. They’ve been perfect for months.”

“Functional, yes. Awesome, maybe. Nowhere near perfect yet. But they will be soon. I’ve got an assistant now.”

Tony sticks his hand in the boy’s hair and smooshes it down, almost absentmindedly, before shoving his whole head to the side. The kid’s reaction is delayed, as if he forces his head to move rather than naturally rocking with the impact of Tony’s hand.

“Well, part-time assistant. Glorified coffee-fetcher.” Tony waves a hand at the kid, who only seems mildly affronted by the ‘coffee-fetcher’ thing. “This is Peter, by the way. I’m glad you’re here, Rhodes. Been meaning to introduce you two.”

Rhodey’s eyes linger on Tony’s hand. It settles on Peter’s shoulder and stays there. The whole thing is natural, like that’s a typical place for it to be. As if this boy—Peter—is comfortable with it there. But it’s more than comfortable, because Peter’s looking at Tony like he’s maybe the most important person in the world. It’s not the usual idolization that Tony tends to get either. This is deeper, like they know each other, really know each other. They’ve both got matching lop-sided grins and if Rhodey squints, that’s not where the similarities end.

Every person Rhodey knows has a story—or fifty—of when Tony has said or done something that has rendered a whole room silent. He has a knack for it. Just like he has a knack for getting on people’s nerves and creating some, admittedly, cool gadgets.

It doesn’t happen to Rhodey as often these days. You know a guy for thirty plus years and it becomes hard for them to shock you.

But now, all Rhodey can do is gape, eyes shifting back and forth between the pair in front of him.

Tony’s smile fades into something more concerned, a by-product of whatever he must be reading from the surprise on Rhodey’s face.

Then the elevator door opens. This time, Peter isn’t the only one to jump, they all startle and turn towards it at once, like they'd been caught at the scene of a crime rather than merely standing in Tony's living room.

Sam and Steve walk out of the elevator, engrossed in conversation. It stops short when they realize that the room isn’t empty.

“Tony, James.” Steve nods, then his eyes widen when they reach Peter. “Oh, hello.”

Sam squints at them. “Who’s the child?”

From the look on his face, Peter takes more offense to that than anything Tony said about his role in the lab.

Tony sniffs and shrugs, shifting his body an almost imperceptible amount so that he’s a half a step in front of Peter. His stance is pseudo-relaxed, something clearly defensive in the tension in his shoulders. Rhodey takes it as a cue and also moves, just a little bit, to try to obscure Peter as much as possible.

Things are better now than they were last year. The team’s back together—no hard feelings, for the most parts, but trust is hard to regain.

“This is Peter. Intern.” Tony elbows him. “Look, it’s Captain America and the Falcon. Aren’t you starstruck?”

“Oh! Yeah—so cool.” Peter starts to salute then winces and crosses his arms. “Mr. Falcon, Mr. America. It’s an honor.”

Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in that particular way—’constipated puppy’, Tony likes to call it. Rhodey has to agree. Although, he thinks Tony finds it sort of charming, which is where Rhodey draws the line. It would be cute on a toddler, not so much on a grown man. “Why is an intern in your penthouse, Tony?”

“I missed the part where that was any of your business.”

“That’s not—I was just curious—”

“Well, don’t be.”

Peter starts to squirm uncomfortably. When Rhodey makes eye contact with him, he averts his gaze to the ground.

“Oh, okay. I get it,” Sam says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “He’s not really an intern, huh?”

Both Tony and Peter tense even further. Rhodey finds himself doing the same.

“Jesus, Stark, how old is he? Sixteen? Did you just meet him?”

“W-what?” Tony splutters.

“He’s your kid, right?”

Tony looks lost for a moment, then one of his bright, press smiles drifts onto his face. It always shows up when he's about to tell a lie, and suddenly the pieces all click into place in Rhodey's head.

Before Tony can speak, he steps forward, shoving Sam good-naturedly and shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. No one would wait sixteen years to slap Tony Stark with a custody case.”

Peter peaks out from around Tony. "I'm seventeen!"

"Strengthens my argument," Rhodey says.

Sam snorts. “Then how do you explain Stark hanging out with a small child?”

“Small child,” Peter repeats in a murmur, lines creasing his forehead.

“He hangs out with quite a few small children,” Rhodey says.

Steve starts to look at Rhodey like he’s wandered into an alternate dimension, which isn’t too far of a leap given their particular line of work.

Sam just shrugs. “Somehow, that’s worse. Very strange.”

Tony frowns. “No—it’s—I’m a good mentor, right Pete?”

Peter beams up at him, smile so wide that Rhodey’s sure it must hurt. “Right.”

Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man. How Tony managed to get himself a souped up child is beyond him (and he prays that it’s not Tony's own doing, a lab-experiment gone awry or even more terrifyingly gone right), but he hopes that he’ll learn the story one day. He’s an uncle now, after all.

~~~

Rhodey’s phone starts to ring, a picture of Tony flashing on the screen. Or, it’s a picture of a picture, really—an old one from college that’s framed at his mom’s house.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and admires the image for a few seconds, reminiscing about simpler times, before picking up.

“H—”

“Rhodey! You haven’t heard from Happy recently, have you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Hello, Tony.”

“That’s my name. Heard from Happy? I can’t get a hold of him.”

Rhodey leans back in his bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Nope. You’re the mutual friend in this situation, you know. Happy and I don’t really hang out without you.”

Tony hums. There are muffled footsteps and Rhodey envisions him pacing.

“Why do you need Happy?”

“He’s supposed to drive Peter home.”

“What, are you—afraid of his mom or something?”

“Aunt,” Tony corrects.

“Aunt,” Rhodey echoes.

That’s something he didn’t see coming. He wonders if the poor kid lost his mom before knowing that his dad was Tony Stark. He wonders how Tony even found out about him. He almost asks, but bites his tongue. It seems like something that Tony should bring up when he’s ready.

“Aunt,” Tony confirms again.

“Alright, so just drive him to the aunt’s place. It can’t be that bad.”

There’s a long pause. “That’s not really what we do.”

“Oh come on, how scary can she—”

“And besides, the kid’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Okay.” Rhodey tries to keep his voice calm and void of annoyance, because his Tony may be a genius, but he’s also the biggest idiot on the planet. And sometimes idiots need patience. It's his duty, both as a best friend, and a newly realized uncle, to provide that patience. “Then tell his aunt that he fell asleep and that he’s staying over for the night.”

The pause that follows is even longer than the last. There are more scuffling footsteps and then he whispers, “but he’s asleep in the lab. Laying on the desk.”

It shouldn’t be this difficult. Rhodey holds the phone away from him so that Tony won’t hear him sigh. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or put a suit on and carry him if you’re that worried about waking him up.”

“What?”

Rhodey counts to three. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or—”

“Room—he doesn’t have a room,” Tony interjects.

It’s Rhodey’s turn to hesitate. “Peter doesn’t have a room at the tower?”

“No,” Tony replies slowly. “Do you—you think he should have a room at the tower?”

Rhodey tries to come up with any possible reason that Tony would think that his son shouldn’t have a room at his place of residence. The only thing that comes to mind is daddy issues. He’s not even sure if that covers it.

“I’m going to take your silence as a yes?” Tony asks

If he needs logic and numbers, Rhodey will give him logic and numbers. Whatever it takes to spell it out to him.

“How many days does Peter spend at the tower?”

“Two—sometimes three. It depends.”

“Okay. Does he stay late often?”

“Yes. I told you, Happy drives him home.”

Rhodey rests his head in his free hand. The kid can’t have been in Tony’s life for much more than a year—either that or Rhodey’s severely lacking in the observation department—and somehow Tony’s managed to twist their relationship into something that defies any sense. Peter clearly adores him based on what Rhodey saw at the tower, and yet Happy’s carting him between his houses and he doesn’t even have a room at his dad’s place.

“I bet this isn’t the first time he’s fallen asleep while over at yours, right?”

Tony hums in agreement.

“So don’t you think it would be easier to have a room for him to crash in? And then it won’t be so much travel back and forth for the kid. It’s probably weird enough without all of that. He has a lot going on.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs. “You’re absolutely right. Okay. Room. FRIDAY? Jot that down. What would I do without you, Rhodey? You’re the light of my life. Have I told you that recently? Best thing to ever happen to me. I love you.”

Rhodey jabs at the end call button.

A text pops up a moment later. Rude of you to hang up when I’m being sentimental.

Rhodey pulls up the contact picture of the dorky little boy he used to share a dorm room with before typing back. I love you, idiot.

He receives a string of hearts a minute later.

~~~

Tony’s voice filters into Rhodey’s earpiece. “It’s not moving.”

Steve’s follows. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Tony answers. “I’m going closer.”

Rhodey watches him approach the metal orb. He looks like nothing more than a red dash from here, shooting across the New York skyline.

He glances to his left, where Spider-Man is standing, hands alternating between fiddling in front of his stomach and swinging at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He hasn’t been his usual chatterbox-self since Tony flew off to scout the sphere from up close.

Rhodey shakes his head. “Be careful. You’re making Spidey nervous.”

The red mask turns to him, eyes on it even wider than usual. “I’m not nervous!”

“Don’t get too close to it, Tony. We don’t know what it can do,” Steve adds.

The words are barely through the comms before the sphere shifts, a flash of green light shooting off its surface. Tony dives and rolls out of the way.

“Oops,” he says. “Made it angry.”

“It’s hostile,” Steve says.

“It’s impressive.” The red blur twists around and then flies closer to the orb again. “Unknown metal, FRIDAY can’t find a match. Dense, too. Shouldn’t be able to float like this with no propulsion. And smooth, laser came right off the surface, no—shit.”

Rhodey takes a step closer, even though it doesn’t do much to shorten the distance between him and Tony. “Shit?”

“It’s a diversion. You guys have to get to Manhattan. Something’s landed. Accounts say it appeared out of nowhere.”

A video pops up on Rhodey’s HUD. There’s a giant metal ship, the outside smooth like the orb, but it’s not spherical. There’s pavement torn up around either side of it and at least one car crushed beneath it, headlights sticking out from the debris. There are civilians running on the outskirts of the disturbance.

“We’re on it,” Steve says. “Tony, stay with the orb. Send for help if it tries anything funny.”

“Fine,” Tony replies after a few seconds. “Leave Underoos here, too.”

“Done. Everyone else, let’s go.”

“What? You guys wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t told you about the sphere!” Peter protests.

“Exactly,” Tony replies. “The sphere’s yours, so stay here and help me watch it. From the ground.”

“But Mr. Stark, that’s basically telling me to do nothing!”

“Bingo. Keeping you out of trouble.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, huffing in indignation.

Rhodey shoots Peter a sympathetic look. Then the full extent of the opportunity to gain Peter's favor dawns on him. “Sorry, kid. If it were up to me, I would let you come with us. Remember that, okay?”

"What," Peter says.

"Just, remember that." Rhodey turns to take off. "See you."

By the time they get to Manhattan, the scene has changed drastically from the footage. The ship has opened up, revealing countless robots in different shapes and sizes, all with the same smooth surfaces as the orb and the ship.

They get to work. It’s harder than it should be. Most of the guns on Rhodey's suit do nothing to the metal—only the strongest blasters inflict any damage. It’s nearly indestructible.

“Er—guys?” Peter’s voice breaks through the chaos. “Something’s—oh my god. Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark?”

Rhodey looks up. The orb is alight, a green haze surrounding it. Tony’s suit is nowhere near it. Rhodey scans the rest of the sky, catching a glimpse of it just before it disappears below the tops of buildings.

“Tony?” Rhodey tries.

There’s no response.

Someone curses over the airwaves.

“Spider-Man?” Steves says. “Do you have eyes on him?”

“It happened so fast,” Peter mumbles. “I saw where he fell. I’ll—I’ll get to him.”

Rhodey exchanges a glance with Steve. He bites his lip and glances back up at the sky, doing a double take when he realizes that the orb has disappeared.

“Hey, Steve.” Rhodey points. “It’s gone.”

“Spider-Man,” Steve says. “Where’d the orb go?”

When Peter's feed crackles into Rhodey’s ears, it’s filled with the staticky sounds of fast movement and heavy impacts.

“What’s up? Did someone say my name?” The kid asks, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I’m a little busy.”

Steve looks at Rhodey, eyes wide through his mask. “What does that mean?”

There’s a sharp thwip over the comm’s and more scuffling, then silence. Rhodey can’t see Steve’s eyebrows under the mask, but he’s pretty sure if he could, they would be up to his hairline.

“I’m on it.” Before waiting for a response, Rhodey takes off. There’s no angry Steve voice on the comms, so he assumes that it’s the right move.

It takes him less than five minutes to find Peter. He’s tipped off by a trail of webs, hanging from buildings, leading him to an alley.

He lands a few feet away from it, peering inside. There are about a dozen orbs, like the giant one in the sky had split into pieces. Each is varying degrees of shattered or plastered to the wall by web lines that stretch across the alleyway like streamers. Rhodey swivels his head back and forth a few times before forcing himself to tear his eyes away.

Tony’s down—suit collapsed in an unceremonious pile. Peter’s pacing in front of him, clearly agitated, leaning over every few steps and murmuring something that Rhodey can’t quite make out.

He takes a step forward, ducking under one of the webs. “Hey. Alright over there?”

Peter’s head jerks to the side. His shoulders rise in a shrug and he looks back at Tony. “He isn’t moving. I hear his heartbeat though.”

Rhodey’s own heart clenches. He makes the rest of the way into the alley and crouches down next to Tony. He mutters a call for medical as quietly as he can, in an effort to keep Peter calm. It’s probably useless seeing as the kid just told him he can hear heartbeats.

Peter settles down next to him, brushing one hand over Tony’s suit.

“I also meant you,” Rhodey clarifies. “Are you alright? Looks like you had a handful here.”

Peter looks up at him, brow furrowed, until the state of the alley seems to sink in. He shrugs again. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m—er—pretty strong.”

Rhodey laughs. “Yeah. I got that.”

“I’m more worried about Mr. Stark.” Peter looks back down at him.

Rhodey double-checks that his comm’s are off and then brings his faceplate down. “You don’t have to do that, kid, I know.”

He freezes. “You—know—?”

“All of it,” Rhodey says carefully, before adding, “Peter.”

The kid flinches and scoots away. “Did Mr. Stark tell you?”

“Not exactly. It was just sort of—” ‘Obvious’ isn’t the right thing to say judging by the way Peter’s eyes are blinking rapidly, like a skittish, caged animal. “I figured it out. Look, I won’t tell anyone. But you can drop the whole ‘Mr. Stark’ thing in front of me.”

The nerves seep out of Peter, replaced by confusion. “What? I always call him ‘Mr. Stark’.”

Really, nothing about Tony’s handling of this situation should surprise Rhodey at this point. Somehow it still does. Tony always seems to defy expectations.

“He makes you call him ‘Mr. Stark?’” Rhodey tries to keep his voice as even and nonjudgemental as possible in case Tony decides to wake up, or Peter tells him about it later.

“Oh, no. He always tries to get me to call him something else. It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”

“Ah,” Rhodey says. It’s a relief. One less piece of sense that he’ll have to talk Tony into. “Yeah, I understand that. I bet it’s an adjustment—all of this.”

“A lot has changed in the last year and a half, Colonel Rhodes, let me tell you. Sometimes I think it’s a dream but—” Peter gestures up at the pattern of webs and then down at Tony.

“I bet.” Rhodey bites his lip, trying to decide whether to say more. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s made some mistakes. And he’ll probably make a couple more, but he’s a good guy. You can trust him.”

“I know that.” Peter’s response is automatic and sure. Rhodey can’t help but smile.

It’s possible that Tony’s doing just fine at the parenting thing. Even if he didn’t think to give his kid a room in his building.

~~~

“Look at this footage, seriously, do you see that?” Tony has FRIDAY pause it and then rewind a few seconds. “Watch.”

The video plays for the third time—Peter swinging around the alley, webs flying in every direction so fast that Rhodey can barely track where his hands are. He watches him grab one of the orbs and smash it between his fists.

“Do you know how durable those things are? I’ve been running tests. They’re stronger than any metal on earth. Make my suit look like aluminum fucking foil.”

Rhodey turns to Pepper. “How many times have you had to watch this?”

“Lost count around thirty.”

Tony scoffs, and then proceeds to replay the video once again

“Proud dad,” Rhodey says, smirking when Tony throws one of his middle fingers over his shoulder.

“It’s not a bad look.” Pepper leans over to wind her arms around Tony’s neck.

“Both of you, quiet. Maybe if I get the impression that you’re paying attention, I won’t have to play it again.”

Rhodey chuckles and tilts his head so he can get a clear view of the screen.

~~~

“Upgrades.” Tony moves his arms in a certain way and the wall slides aside to reveal a new version of the War Machine armor. “More fire-power, since I know you’re into that sort of thing. Also implemented a stealth mode. Peter helped me out.”

Rhodey smiles over at the kid. He’s met with a forced grimace. Peter'll warm up to him eventually. Rhodey will make sure of it. If Tony can manage to shape himself into a dad on such short notice, then Rhodey can definitely get a handle on being an uncle—ideally a cool uncle.

“He helped me with a new set of braces, too,” Tony continues. “Speaking of, those are—”

“I told you to quit with the braces.”

“And I believe I told you that I wouldn’t—doesn't matter, we’ll get to those later. Pete, do you want to do the honors, show him what we’ve done?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter doesn’t move from his position—sort of slumped against the wall adjacent to the case that the new armor is in. “You can show him.”

Tony glances at Peter and then shrugs, turning back to the display. “If you say so.”

He launches into an explanation, gesturing wildly as the suit fires an impressive sequence of advanced weaponry. Despite the demonstration, Rhodey finds his attention divided, focusing on Peter more often than not. The kid closed his eyes as soon as Tony turned away from him, leaned his head back against the wall. He looks pale, but somehow flushed at the same time—his skin is a deep red high on his cheeks, but almost gray everywhere else. It could be the lighting, but—

Rhodey grabs Tony’s shoulder and yanks him closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. He points at Peter, who doesn’t seem to have noticed the lull in conversation.

Is he okay? Rhodey mouths, because even though Peter seems out of it, he still has freaky super hearing.

Why wouldn’t he be? Tony mouths back.

His eyes are closed.

Well maybe he’s— Tony makes a pillow with his hands and mimes sleeping on it. Tired.

Why would he be so tired?

Tony’s lips form a string of words too long for Rhodey to decipher. What?

He tries again. No difference, except Rhodey thinks he sees the word 'spider'. He shakes his head.

Tony huffs and starts over. Rhodey grabs his shoulders and shakes them. Slow down. Less words.

He rolls his eyes and starts moving his mouth in exaggerated slow motions.

Nope.

He wipes his hand over his face and tries again.

Not getting it.

“Oh, come on,” he hisses. “He’s a vigilante at night, a student during the day, and his metabolism matches, if not exceeds Rogers’!”

“Hey.” Peter cracks his eyes open and lifts his head off the wall, voice croaky and rough. “Are you guys talking about me?”

“Nah, some other super-kid,” Tony says.

Peter chuckles, and lets his head fall back. “Don’t let ‘em replace me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, would we, Rhodes?”

“Nope,” Rhodey says quickly. “Never.”

“Good,” Peter whispers, eyes drifting shut.

Tony glances at Rhodey, as if looking for an answer. He doesn’t have one, tries to convey that with a pointed look.

“You look kind of tired, bud,” Tony ventures, throwing up a confused hand in Rhodey’s direction. “You hungry?”

“No,” Peter mumbles. “M’good.”

“You, Peter Parker, are not hungry?”

“Nope.”

Tony’s face fades into something akin to horror. “You were right, Rhodey. He’s broken.”

“Oh my god. He’s not ‘broken’, you big drama queen.” Rhodey hits Tony lightly on the back of the head. “Just, go over there and do something.”

“Do something,” Tony repeats. “Helpful. What exactly should I do?”

“I don’t know? Feel his forehead?”

The state of horror increases. “I’m calling his aunt.”

Tony tries to dart past Rhodey, but he catches his arm on the way. “You can’t always call the aunt when things get tough!”

Tony yanks his arm away. “Why not!?”

Rhodey hesitates. “I mean, you can. Actually, you probably should—”

“Exactly!”

“But you also need to—” He moves his head in Peter’s direction. “You know.”

“I do not know!” Tony runs his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up at all angles. It matches the wild glint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Actually, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. “Do you mind if I sit down for a minute? Sorry.”

He sinks down the wall, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on his kneecaps.

“Oh—what? What's happening right now?" Tony walks over and hovers above the kid. “Did you get hit by anything on patrol last night?”

Peter’s head shakes ever so slightly.

“Tones, I think he’s just sick,” Rhodey says.

“He heals broken bones overnight, he doesn’t get sick.” Tony kneels next to him, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder and then taking it right off. “Right?”

“Don’t get sick,” Peter agrees. “At least, I don’t think so. Haven’t since I got bit.”

“It's been less than two years, hasn’t it?”

Tony nods. Peter’s head gives a pathetic little lurch.

“This is probably just the first bug that’s gotten to him since it happened,” Rhodey says. “I think you’re just sick, Peter. What’s bothering you?”

The kid raises his head. He looks worse than he had when he’d been standing—beads of sweat on his hair-line dampening the strands into messy curls stuck to his skin.

“Not sick,” he says. “I just have a headache. It’s not that bad.”

Tony brings his hand up to Peter’s forehead with more confidence than he exhibited at the prospect a few minutes ago. A surge of pride goes through Rhodey—it’s simple, but it’s good. More proof that his best friend will be great at this eventually. “You feel hot, kiddo. At least by your standards. FRIDAY, check him over. Look for anything funky.”

The scan completes a few minutes later, coming back with nothing but a fever.

“Well,” Tony says after he reads the results aloud. “Working theory is that you are a little bit sick, Pete.”

Peter shakes his hanging head. “Not sick.”

Tony smiles. “Sure thing. Like I said, only a theory. We can always improve it later.”

That seems to mollify the kid. He nods a little and sighs, resting his head back on his knees.

“Why don’t we get you up to your room? Bed’s gotta be better than the floor. And a pillow’s gotta be a whole lot better than those bony knees.”

A grin tugs at Rhodey’s lips as he watches Tony help Peter to his feet. He follows them into the elevator and then down a few hallways.

He stays at the edge of the room, leaning on the door frame, content to watch. Tony walks with Peter over to the bed and waits there as he settles into it.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food? Water?” he asks.

Peter’s head shakes, barely visible to Rhodey over the sheets that are pulled up above his chin.

“Rest up, then. Get better soon. I’ve gotten used to having a lab assistant, so don’t ruin that for me.”

“I won’t. I’m not even sick!”

“Uh huh. Yup. Definitely. Go to sleep anyway.”

Tony shakes his head, fondly, and walks back out of the room past Rhodey.

“You’re good with him,” he says as he eases the door shut.

Tony twitches a little, a slight stutter in his stride, before he goes back to walking. “Well, I do try to be a decent human being occasionally.”

He’s pleased by the compliment, Rhodey can tell. But, he’s never been good at accepting that sort of thing. Sometimes it’s better to let it be, but others times, Rhodey likes to press it.

“I’m proud of you, man.”

“Alright. Weird, but alright.”

“I’m serious, look at you! Even got him the room. It looked nice.”

Tony stops in his tracks, spins around slowly, and then looks up at the ceiling and over at each wall. “What’s going on? Is this a prank?”

“This would be a pretty awful prank,” Rhodey points out. “Listen, I’m just saying that I know this can’t have been easy—finding out about the kid, making the decision to meet him, taking up an active role in his life. I’m impressed. You’ve changed a lot since college, Tones. For the better.”

“You lost me. I’m just teaching a high schooler some lab stuff, some superhero stuff. It’s not a big deal.”

Rhodey throws his hands up. “It is a big deal! He’s your son, that’s a big deal!”

Tony’s mouth falls open. He closes it as his eyebrows knit together, and then it drops open once again. “I don’t get it. You don’t sound like you’re joking.”

“Joking? I’m just trying to pay you a compliment, man. Take it so we can move on.”

Tony starts massaging his temples. “I’m sorry, you think Peter’s my biological son?”

“What? He—he is. He is your son.”

A grin rises slowly on Tony’s face and then he’s laughing, full body, doubled over, one of his arms strewn across his stomach as if he’s trying to contain it.

Rhodey crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not hard to infer why Tony’s laughing. It is hard to rationalize how he read the situation so horribly wrong. He runs through the last couple months, scrambling to put the memories in a new perspective. It's hard to separate anything about Tony and Peter from father and son.

“I don’t understand,” Rhodey says. “I called you a ‘Proud Dad’ a few weeks ago.”

“I thought it was a joke! The whole team jokes about Spider-Man being my kid.”

“But, I told Peter I knew everything!”

“He thought you meant his identity.”

Rhodey rubs his hands over his head. “I asked him why he calls you ‘Mr. Stark’”.

Tony frowns. “He didn’t mention that part.”

“I—you got him his own room! In your tower!”

“You told me to! Pepper thought it was weird when I told her how much you pressed about it—should I take away the room? Is it too much?”

“Take away the room—“ Rhodey mumbles. “No, dumbass. He’s sleeping in it right now."

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” Tony points at him. “Hilarious, but ridiculous.”

“It’s not just me! Those ‘jokes’ the team has been making—” Rhodey puts air quotes around the word and shakes his head. “Not jokes. Do you know how much work I’ve put in trying to get them to dial it down because I didn’t think you and Peter were ready for everyone to know?”

“They think—wait, Peter or Spider-Man?”

“Both? Mostly Spider-Man.”

“Oh my god.” Tony stares off to the side, as if he can’t quite comprehend the conversation. “Why?”

“Well it’s an easy mistake to make! You’re really protective—“

“Because he’s a child!” Tony interrupts.

“And the way he looks at you. It’s obvious, even through the mask. It’s like—“ Rhodey trails off, unsure if it’s what Tony wants to hear.

He narrows his eyes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know—“

“You clearly do. Just say it.”

“Like he looks up to you, man.” Rhodey shrugs. “Like you mean a lot to him.”

Tony’s silent for a moment, goes back to staring at the spot just to Rhodey’s right. He sniffs once and then wipes his hands on his jeans.

“Right. That’s—nice. A little sappy for my taste.” There is the smallest trace of a smile, but he sniffs again and it disappears. “Well I’m going to go call his aunt, then call Bruce and see if we can whip up some kind of painkiller for him. Do you mind hanging out by his room, in case he needs anything?”

Rhodey looks at him, deadpan. “You hear that, right? You hear what you sound like.”

“Shut up!” Tony calls without looking back.

Rhodey laughs and walks back down the hallway. As soon as he gets close to the the room, he starts to hear Peter’s voice from inside.

He pulls the door open a crack.

The mound of sheets shifts slightly on the bed. “Mr. Stark?”

“Nope,” Rhodey says. “It’s me.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t miss the disappointment in Peter’s voice. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Rhodey walks in until he can see some of Peter’s head sticking out from under the sheets—he’s curled up on his side, face tense and twisted in pain. “Anything I can get for you?”

“I don’t know.” He burrows a little deeper. “Do you think Mr. Stark is going to come back soon?”

“Yeah, he’s just trying to make something to help with the pain. And call your aunt. She’ll be here soon, too.”

“Good. I, uh, I can’t sleep. Everything hurts,” Peter confesses. “I think I might be sick.”

Rhodey sits on the edge of the bed, chuckling a little. “Oh, really?”

“Don’t tell Tony or May, okay?”

Rhodey perks up. “Your secret’s safe with me, Spidey. I’m cool, you can trust me.”

Peter blinks a few times. He meets Rhodey’s eyes and then nods. “You are pretty cool, Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey bites the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling. He waits until Peter's eyes are closed before breaking into an all-out grin and pumping a fist.

Peter might not be Tony’s biological son, but Tony’s not Rhodey’s biological brother either. That's never stopped them before. He can still be Peter’s uncle. In fact, he thinks he might have just cinched the coveted cool uncle position he was trying to get.

#friendly neighborhood fic exchange #irondad #spideyson #tony stark #peter parker #fic #irondad fic #my stuff

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skullrock · 4 years ago

Text

noel nancy

12 days of Christmas fics, day 4 - noel nancy

pairing: Stancy

summary: Steve and Nancy spend their first Christmas together after the events of S1.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none <3

a/n: this isn’t really like a STANCY stancy fic it’s more of a character study into Steve and his relationship w Christmas, w Nancy, and with Barb after S1. so even if u hate this ship u can still read <3 xox hope u enjoy!

Steve wasn’t used to second chances. His parents gave up on him the first time he snuck out to try cigarettes with Tommy; his teachers gave up on him at the first signs of difficulty; his other girlfriends gave up on him the first time he let down his cool exterior. Because, really, Steve was a kid. As much as he felt like a grown up, he wasn’t. He was a kid who handled his life poorly, and if it wasn’t for Nancy Wheeler, he never would have handled it well.

So when Nancy gave him a second chance, a month after… Everything, he was quick to jump on it and be on his very best behavior. Jonathan Byers’ fist knocked some sense into him, too, and that’s precisely why Steve went to the store and bought the best camera that the salesman had. He owed them both his life - like, literally, and they probably owed him theirs, but he wouldn’t take it. He just wanted them happy and safe and peaceful for Christmas.

“Steve.” Nancy looked bewildered when Steve showed her the camera, unwrapped, as he didn’t really know how to wrap anything. “He’ll love it.” Her hand touched his and it was warm, and Steve swore he felt the heat creep up his entire arm. He never wanted her to let go. Not again.

“‘s whatever,” he said, a bit bashfully, but his smile was growing. “I owe him at least this much.”

“You’re sweet,” Nancy said, leaning forward and kissing his cheek softly, and Steve melted into her eagerly. He didn’t think he really deserved to be called sweet, not yet, but he still takes her hand and squeezes it.

“Help me wrap it?” he asked.

“You don’t know how?”

“I can’t be good at everything,” he teased, and she hit his chest gently with her free hand before standing.

“I’ll be right back.” Nancy knew she had to promise this. She could see that fear and apprehension and remorse in his eyes every time she went to step away, like she wouldn’t be back.

And she almost wasn’t.

Steve pressed a kiss to her palm before letting her run downstairs to grab the paper. When her frame left the doorway, he let his eyes roam around her room, something he’d done before, but not since Everything. He sees pictures of Nance when she was younger, in a ballerina costume. On a school field trip to the zoo. Pictures of Ted holding her when she was just as big as Holly was then. Her and Mike dressed up like - well, Steve doesn’t know what they’re dressed up as, but they’re having fun.

And then he sees the pictures of Barb and Nance. How happy they were. Their faces smushed together in a photobooth, at each other’s birthday parties - the room was littered with Barb and little reminders of her. Steve checked on Nancy every chance he had, even in that month where they’d only stolen looks at each other. He said he was sorry probably a dozen times, each more tearful than the last, because what Nancy didn’t understand was that Steve couldn’t even look at his pool without feeling like he was going to vomit. He couldn’t lay in his bed at night and sleep. He thought about Barb, about how she cut her hand when they tried to make her do something stupid, about how scared and alone and sad she must have been. How he stole Nancy from her.

Barb Holland probably hated him more in death than she did in life.

It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, Steve promised her. He had a lot of talks with her at night. I just didn’t want to share the glory that is Nancy Wheeler. I’m sure you understand.

“Found some.” Nancy’s voice broke Steve from his melancholy staring, and he quickly blinked some tears out of his eyes. She sat at her desk with the camera and Steve watched her wrap the box, watched her little fingers fold and tape the paper. “He’ll be here to pick up Will later.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Will you give it to him?”

Nancy looked at him with furrowed brows. “Me?”

“I just….” Steve paused. “I don’t want him to think he… like, owes me something. Or that I’m trying to buy his forgiveness.”

“He won’t,” Nancy promised, but Steve shook his head.

“Please? Just say it’s from you.”

Nancy frowned and stood, walking to Steve at the end of her bed. She cupped his face and kissed his lips, softly, before pulling back. Steve smirked, gently grabbing her wrists in his hands. “Guess I should be selfless more often, huh?”

“You are selfless,” Nancy said, staring into his eyes. Steve loved it when Nancy looked at him like that. “And you’re brave.”

But Steve didn’t feel like it.

===

To be honest, Steve never had a great Christmas. Sometimes his cousins and extended family would stop by for Christmas, and that could be fun. But his aunts and uncles didn’t like their kids hanging out with Steve, because he was a “bad influence,” which just meant sometimes Steve would get too carried away during snowball fights and, yeah, he hit Brent in the face with one but it’s not like he lost an eye or anything. Christmas with his mom and dad was impersonal. He would get new things that he didn’t really like - as in, ten new polos and five new khakis, all from expensive retailers - and he would thank them before going up to his room until dinner. Christmas dinner was the worst - it was silent save for forks scraping and mouths chewing, and Steve was pretty sure that when he goes to hell he will be perpetually sitting at the dinner table on December 25th.

But Christmas with Nancy was different.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t like talking to Ted about sports, or telling Karen about his mom’s new business ventures, or acting like an asshole to Mike just to get a ruse from him, or playing with Holly. He loved it. But that wasn’t the bestpart. The best part was that Nancy, in her pretty yellow sweater, was glued to his side, and was smiling, and was squeezing his hand, and was rolling her eyes and laughing at him. It wasn’t even that much, but it was the closest to an actual Christmas that Steve had ever had. Closest to Christmas that Steve had ever felt. He could even stand Ted’s after-dinner snoring as he held Nancy on the couch, absent-mindedly watching a movie. He was more concerned with her warm body pressed against his.

A month was a long time without Nancy Wheeler.

The front door opened. Karen cried out, “Jonathan!”, and Steve looked to Nancy anxiously. As Jonathan slipped downstairs, Nancy snuck up to her room, leaving Steve alone with a snoring Ted.

Steve was used to being alone, now. Or, well, he should have been. A month without talking to Carol and Tommy was like a well-needed detox without the withdrawals. Still, he missed them - but only sometimes. The thoughts were usually quickly stifled when Steve remembers how Tommy made him pay for a can of coke and some Advil after getting his shit rocked. Some friends. And while Nancy was (thankfully) back in his life, he still felt alone sometimes. Which scared him. He hadn’t felt this alone in a long time, always forcing himself to socialize to avoid being in an empty and cold house. Nancy meant more to him then he knew - not only was he thankful to have her back and be given another chance, but she also got him out of that house.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Will met at the bottom of the steps. Steve couldn’t really see, but he could kind of hear the exchange. His heart hammered in his chest - what if he didn’t like it? What if it was a shitty camera? What if Jonathan finds out he was the one that got it for him? But Nancy came back with an absent-minded grin and Steve smiled wide, relief flowing through him just at the sight of her. She sat beside him and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close. He looked down at her in pure adoration - Nancy Wheeler was the most beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, and badass person he’d ever met, and she was, somehow, his.

“Did you give it to him?”

Nancy looked up at him and nodded, still smiling a bit. “Yeah.”

Steve rubbed her arm and looked up at the television, suddenly overwhelmed with something. Something good and all consuming and wholesome. He hadn’t felt this good… ever. It was like something was set free in his chest, something that had never quite yet been released before. He looked back down at Nancy, her eyes focused on the television, her body pressed up against his.

He wants to say it. I love you. It’s on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he presses a kiss to her hair. “Merry Christmas.”

Nancy looked up at him and smiled softly. “Merry Christmas.”

Beside them, Ted snored.

===

tags: @pterawaters @mpmarypoppins

#steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stancy #stranger things fic #I just want them 2 b happy #this was the quickest fic I have ever written literally... I had so many thots..... I will b crying #my fics

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valkyriesryde · 5 years ago

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Release the Hounds {4/?}

Chapter Four: Seek the Truth

Pairing: Persephone!Steve x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: Hermes has lost a pair of winged shoes and Bucky is pretty sure where they’ve flown off to and he’s not happy about it.

Word Count: 3,500ish whoops

A/N: Soooo got a bit carried away sorry guys, just wanted the new chapter after I had a bit of a break to make up for my absence. My country has opened up locally so I’ve been pretty busy because of it but it’s okay I’m still here and I’m still in love with these fuckwits ENJOY

Series Masterlist ~ Masterlist

Demeter appeared to almost float as she walked. The power she possessed did not cause fear to those that she passed, it wasn’t like when Artemis went on a hunt or when Athena walked in full armour. It was quiet and poised, it trailed behind her like the train of her dress. She was fertility and the harvest, those that saw her were enamoured by her beauty and strength that was so evident in her body from all the years of farming. This was why no one wanted to be the subject of her wrath, because she was not afraid to deal with problems herself.

Demeter was beginning to boil over though as she stormed into Bucky’s office and stared at him until he finished typing and looked up with a beaming smile, enough to brighten almost anyone’s day...almost.

“Good morn-”

“Have you seen Steve, Apollo?” Bucky rolled his eyes as she said his name and in the back of his mind cursed Steve for leaving before his mother had gone to work. Dumbass.

“I sent him to the mortal world.”

“You what?!” Demeter, ever protective of her golden child, if only she knew, Bucky thought. If only she knew how much of a pain in the ass he really was. That punk owes me for lying to his own damn mother.

“I needed some things, you know like those puddings that the bakers just can’t get quite right here in Olympus,” he looked off into the distance as he thought about the baked goods of the mortal world and swore he would make Steve buy him a whole bakery for lying to Demeter. “I, of course can’t go down there willy nilly so he offered to go for me this morning, he wanted to get in before the rush. Surely you know how it is Demi.”

Demeter caught her tongue between her lips, pursed and poise, Bucky knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t, be mad at him. She wouldn’t want it going back to his father that she tried to bite off the sun god’s head.

“Well when you see him,” she spun on her heel, her train flying around her as she did, “tell him to come see me. We’ve business to attend to.” “You have my word.” He bowed his head but made no move to stand as she waited for him to get the door until huffing and walking out on her own. “That’s where they got the term helicopter mum from.” Bucky mumbled under his breath with a shake of his head and then let out a deep sigh and dropped his head to his desk. More mess to clean up.

Hermes had torn his room apart when Bucky walked in. Clothes were thrown across the room and hung over lamps and shelves. His bed had been flipped and his wardrobe was practically empty. And yet he kept pulling it apart, searching in every nook and cranny he could find but to no avail. He started freaking out about an hour ago and all hope was lost and colour drained from his face when he heard the door open and shut behind him.

“What the fuck happened here?”

Hermes let a very high pitched yelp and dived beneath one of the piles of clothes, “I’M SORRY I’LL FIND THEM I SWEAR!” He yelled.

“Find what?” Bucky asked as he stepped over a discarded pair of winged shoes. “Far out Peter it looks like you pissed off one of the wind nymphs! What happened here?!”

“Oh,” Peter popped his head up and once he had confirmed it was in fact Bucky standing before him he went back to his closest to continue searching. “I thought you were Thor…” a nervous laugh leaving his body as a grimace spread over his face. “How’s it going? Got a message for someone?”

“Peter, what have you lost?” Bucky crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the brunette's back.

“I wouldn’t say lost persay…” Peter shot up and his hands flew around him as he talked, a distraction that often helped him talk his way out of trouble. “I’d say misplaced more than anything really. I mean is anything really lost or are things just put somewhere and forgotten about? Who’s to say? Not me. Nor you! We’re not the gods of finding things are we?! You’re the sun god, patron of prophecy and healing,” Peter grabbed a lyre that was stuffed in the back of the wardrobe and turned to hold it up to Bucky, “and music!” He threw it over his shoulder and kept searching, at this rate he may as well start tearing up floor boards he’d searched top and bottom and still, no sign of them.

“And you’re a thief, what have you lost Hermes?” Bucky had his sneaky suspicions on what the ‘misplaced’ item could be but he prayed to Zeus that he was wrong. Peter froze and stood slowly. When he turned to face Bucky his face was covered in guilt and shame, the boy wore it like a mask, as if he’d been caught stealing from mum’s purse...or worse...his father’s.

“A pair of winged sandals...you haven’t seen any have you? I have uh,” he counted the ones spread across the floor, remembered to count the pair on his feet, the ones that had landed in the bookcase and the one left shoe that was floating in the corner of the ceiling. “Fourteen I have fourteen, but I SHOULD have fifteen. I seem to have misplaced a pair…”

Bucky looked around the room until his eyes landed on the small daffodil that poked out the side of Peter’s shoe shelf. “I think I have an inkling as to where they’ve flown off to. Care to take a trip down under with me?”

The gates of the Underworld were massive in size and daunting in appearance. A mix of obsidian and black metal twisted together to form the vines that covered it. The gate dripped with gold, Steve wasn’t sure if it was blood of gods who dared try to pass the gates or a warning to those who thought to try. He settled on the fact that it was probably a nod to Hades also being the patron of riches. Wanda guided him closer to the gates and as she neared they opened for her.

“Where are all the souls?” Steve asked, it was eerily quiet for the entrance to the Underworld, he figured it would be full of wandering souls but all he could see were the ports of the five rivers and the only souls being the ones who swam the rivers until their debt was paid.

“Thanatos looks after them once Charon brings them down, you thought they’d be waiting here?”

“Well it just makes sense?”

“Tell me Steve,” Wanda stopped in her steps at the edge of the gate, her hands on her hips.

Steve was beginning to make out the intricate details of the vines on the gate, the asphodel flowers that were engraved into the metal and rock, the daffodils that were spread amongst them, only a few in comparison. He thought he saw mint leaves, only visible when the light hit the gold and he could see the pattern on the leaves. Symbols of Hades, he thought, as he saw the white poplars across the top. All but the daffodils, they were one of his and the asphodel flowers weren’t anyones, though she did have a field named after it, maybe it was the other way around?

“Steve?” Wanda asked again and he looked away from the gate reluctantly. “Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry, what was it you said?” He’d have to remember to ask Hades about the gate’s decorations another time.

“Did you really think we’d just have thousands of roaming souls at the entrance? Lesson one flower boy, when no one respects you, always respect yourself.” She continued walking through the gates and Steve followed quickly.

“What does that have to do with not keeping the waiting souls at the entrance?” he asked, wishing he’d brought something to write with.

“The twelve gods care about their appearance, am I wrong?”

“No, of course they do, people look up to them.”

“Exactly, they’re respected. They have to look the part, if they didn’t people would lose respect for them. The Underworld, Hades, we’re not respected. The gods, the nymphs and even some satyrs look down on us, they have no respect, we could be seen in rags and their opinions on us wouldn’t change.”

Wanda hated having to be the one to tell him about her home, it left a bitter taste in her mouth as she talked about how others viewed her home and her family. It wasn’t fair. But Hades had told her it had to be her first.

“We respect ourselves, our realm and our queen. We dress and we present ourselves how we see ourselves.” She flattened out her cloak and pulled her fingers through her auburn waves.

“Powerful?” Steve asked, it was the first word that came to mind when he looked at Wanda, she stood tall, proud of who she was and not one you would want to cross. She appeared as if she held power others wished they had.

“Amongst other things. To have lost souls, those waiting for judgement, hanging about the gates would contradict how we see this place, we aren’t a mess, there’s no lack of organisation or authority here Steve. Hades has the final say, the souls go through the entrances to the sides where they rest in Asphodel if they possess no debt and await trial by the council. If they need to be moved they are, if not, they move deeper into Asphodel where they make themselves at home. Some find families, some wander alone. But they all have their place. They’re not just tossed at the gates of Hades.” She pointed towards the sides of the gates and Steve could just make out the faded souls passing through the open doors one at a time.

Some were weeping, some stone cold, some even looked slightly relieved. Wanda carefully studied Steve’s face as he watched them, she wondered how much he saw, through her eyes she could see them clear as day, she could tell you exactly what they were wearing and if they had freckles or scars on their skin. She wondered if he could make out their clothing, from the somber look on his face she figured he could, thought perhaps he could even see the expressions on their faces.

“What if they have debts?” He turned back to Wanda and she nodded towards the rivers.

“Styx, Lethe, Acheron, Phlegethon and Cocytus. Depending on how they died or what debt they owe they swim in the rivers for up to a thousand years.” She pulled at his sleeve, away from the ports and the moving souls towards a cavern along the edge of the river Styx.

Steve heard the scrapping of metal against the rock and when he turned back he saw the gates close behind them, the final decorations coming into view and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed them before. They’d been split down the middle when the gate was open but now you wouldn’t be able to tell there was any gap between them. A cornucopia, which was bursting with the flora that adorned the rest of the gate and golden coins. Around it’s edge were three horses, black with golden eyes and behind it, the length of the gate was a bident.

The weapon of Hades, it was subtler than Loki’s trident, had little details apart from three etched rings where the points joined the staff, one for each judge. Steve thought it beautiful and fitting for a queen who appeared to not need much. He thought of all the mortals that drowned in riches and surrounded themselves with possessions that showed off their wealth, he wondered what Hades thought of them, if she thought they were using their wealth right or if she despised their need to be and have the biggest and best.

“I thought you were taking me to Thanatos?” They rounded the corner into, what Steve now realised was a tunnel that went deeper into the outskirts of the Underworld.

“Hades may not think she belongs on the council but she’s wrong. We can’t convince her, we’ve tried for a millenia.” Wanda pulled a pouch from her belt and placed it in Steve’s hands, it was filled with trail mix and he looked at her questionably and began to hand it back to her. He knew the rule to never eat food from the house of Hades. “It’s mortal food, I swear to you.”

“What makes you think she’ll listen to me then?” Wanda smiled knowingly at his words, she knew Hades was already listening to him, he wouldn’t be still standing here if she weren’t.

“It’s time the old gods adapt.”

“You say old gods, you mean my mother though.” Steve picked at the trail mix and examined it closely, it appeared to be what she’d said, mortal food, safe to eat.

“She doesn’t have your best interest at heart, you know that right?”

“She’s always protected me, I don’t know why she hates Hades so much but she has her reasons for keeping her out of the council.” He didn’t know them but he knew she had reasons. She had to, she wouldn’t want Hades kept out for no reason! Steve was sure of it, he was...wasn’t he?

“Which you don’t agree with.” Wanda pointed out and Steve thought about it for a second. He couldn’t think of a reason why Hades shouldn’t be one the council. He couldn’t think of any reason for Demeter to even hate Hades as much as she did. He’d never heard of anything happening between them, just the talk of evil, death and the devil within that Demeter had always associated Hades with.

“No I don’t! I don’t know why, I’ve always been told the bad, the ugly and the dangerous of this place and here I am fighting for it’s ruler to have a seat!?” It came off more like a question than a statement and Steve didn’t like how unsure he was about it all. He didn’t know if what he was doing was the right thing. He didn’t want to make his mother angry but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t think it was right.

“You’re fighting for what you believe in.”

“I’m not completely sure why I believe in it, but I’ll keep fighting for her,” Steve peered over Wanda’s shoulder, through the gates towards the kingdom, to her home, to her.

“She deserves to have someone fight for her.” Wanda bowed her head slightly, she almost went to curtsey but scrunched her fingers around her coat. “Do not give up on her no matter how many times she pushes you away. Please fight for us. The Underworld is a dangerous place and I can’t protect you but do your own research, learn about this place and whatever you do, do not fear it. We don’t harm our own here.” And with that Wanda disappeared back through the gates. She left Steve on the edge of the cavern with his tattered winged sandals and pouch of trail mix in his hands to venture deeper into the Underworld beyond the kingdom.

“You’ve been here for a day, that’s enough, it’s time to come home.” Bucky stood over Steve who was sitting against a wall. His arms crossed and a scowl on his face, Bucky hated being the bad guy, this wasn’t him but when it came to Steve sometimes being the bad guy was what it took.

Peter was crouched by Steve’s feet pulling the singed sandals off of his feet with a huff and grumpling about how tattered and filthy they were. “These were my good sandals,” he pouted, brushing off some dirt.

“I’ll pay to have them cleaned Peter, I’m sorry.” Peter nodded and placed the sandals in his satchel with a mumbled thank you before Steve turned to Bucky, his voice harsher than it was to the boy. “It’s not enough, this place is immense. I've only just scratched the service, I haven’t even seen the fields yet.”

“Because they’re behind the gates Steve and YOU’RE NOT WELCOME THERE.” Bucky was fed up, he hated this place, the sun didn’t reach too many dark corners and it gave him the heebie jeebies just thinking about what creatures lurked the shadows that would like to eat a god. Not to mention the last time he’d spoken to Hades and she’d threatened to feed him to Cerberus.

“How am I meant to plead her case at the council if I’ve no actual knowledge of her and this place?” Steve stood from the wall and gestured to his surroundings, Bucky and Peter had found him deep inside the Tunnels of Aidoneus which snaked around the fields, he hadn’t yet found an exit into them.

“She doesn’t want you to plead her case, your mother will rip you to shreds if you plead her case, you’ll never see the light of day unless it’s to do your duties. Is that what you want?” Bucky’s chest felt heavier than normal, he really hated this place, he strength drained out of him slowly like a leaky faucet.

Everyone always seemed to be claiming they knew what was best for him, that they knew more than he did. Steve may be a young god, only around for a small amount of time compared to some of the others but he had some life experience. He wasn’t the child his mother treated him like, or the small defenceless kid that he was when Bucky first met him. He was one of the few that could step foot on mortal ground for long periods of time. By the lack of colour on Bucky’s face and the drooping of his shoulders, Steve thought perhaps he was more powerful than Bucky was, to be able to walk on mortal soil as well as Hades’ was unheard of unless you were invited like Hermes or resided here like Wanda. But Steve wasn’t either, yet he wasn’t weak like Bucky was becoming and he’d been here almost twenty four hours compared to Bucky’s twenty four minutes. After being treated after his fall Steve continued to heal, he was becoming stronger and by this point he was back to himself. But Bucky was quickly weakening.

“You won’t survive in the tunnels for long Steve,” his voice was soft now, he was tired, he just wanted to go home and bring Steve to Demeter’s door.

“I just need to find a way into the fields.” Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve could feel the judgment, he thought it stupid too, trying to break into Hades’ kingdom like the fool he was.

“Your mother asked about you”

“What did she-” The caught Steve’s attention, he’d almost forgotten about his mother and what’d she would do if she found out he was here.

“I covered for you, don’t worry. But you need to come back before she sends a search party looking for you. If she finds out you’re here,” Bucky let out a whistle and Steve picked up his jacket.

“I know. I’ll come back. Bucky, I’m not done here. There’s more to the Underworld than what we’re led to believe on Olympus.”

“And how would you know that? You’ve barely seen this place.” There was something in Steve’s eye that Bucky hadn’t seen before, he was determined, he believed what he was saying and for once it was his own opinion, not one he’d been told. Bucky’s blood ran cold at the thought of why it could be, why it was this that was breaking Steve away from Demeter’s hold so quickly. It was too soon though, he thought to himself as they exited the caves with the help of Peter. It’s not meant to happen this way.

“I’ve ventured somewhat, and I plan on coming back.” Steve puffed his chest as he stood on the steps of his home and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“If I could die you’d be the death of me god of spring.” He smirked and Steve beamed back, he knew his friend would always have his back, he hoped he’d have his vote.

The door opened slowly and a cold breeze made its way into the office. Thor stood behind his desk as he looked out towards Olympus. He watched his citizens go about their day, saw some of his own family amongst them as the door clicked shut.

“Hello Brother.” He watched the reflection, her black suit, the gold inside of her blazer reflecting off the sun as she placed the notebook on his desk and sat in her usual spot across from him. “Pleasant week?”

“Always Hades, yourself?” He turned and smiled at his sister, sitting in his own chair at his desk. “Shall we begin, there’s much to discuss.”

Capter Five: Stand Your Ground

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Kurtbastian one-shot - “Eyes on the Road” (Rated M)

Summary: Driving down the highway while on vacation, Kurt notices how tense his husband looks and decides to try something he saw in a movie once to loosen him up. It does the job a little too well ... (1970 words)

Notes: This is a re-write I decided to do for Halloween because I think it's really funny. XD Inspired by the movie 'Parenthood'.

Part 58 of Daddies.

Read on AO3.

“That was the insurance agent,” Sebastian says, putting his jacket around Kurt’s shoulders and rubbing his husband’s arms to keep the chill of the night air away. “They're sending a tow. We're gonna call an Uber to take us to the hotel, but they’ll have a rental for us in the morning.”

“That’s … that’s great,” Kurt grumbles. "Just peachy."

Sebastian snickers. Kurt's cheeks flame red and he hangs his head. He can’t look Sebastian in the eyes, but he also doesn’t want to see Sebastian’s baby - his Porsche Cayman - wrapped around the trunk of an ancient English Oak.

Kurt isn't angry at his husband. This isn't Sebastian's fault. And for as bad as this night has been, Kurt is more embarrassed than upset.

“Are you alright? Nothing hurts? Nothing broken?” Sebastian asks for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, Kurt answers, “Yeah … sure … great.”

There’s nothing else Kurt can think of to say. Physically, he’s fine. Emotionally, he could live a hundred years and never, ever live this down.

Plus, Sebastian is being such a good sport about this.

That makes this whole situation suck worse.

They’re supposed to be on vacation. They got Thomas excused from school and took one week away to visit Kurt’s dad over Halloween. That way, Burt wouldn't have to travel hours to see his grandson dress in costume and go begging for candy.

But Kurt and Sebastian had ulterior motives. They planned this trip to Ohio to escape everything: PTA meetings, stress, Sebastian’s ultra-needy clients, and Kurt’s new winter clothing line, coming together slowly, but on time for the Vogue Winter Extravaganza.

They'd been traveling to the city more than normal, and they both agreed that they'd forgotten how crowded and hectic it could be, especially at the start of the holidays. It's just Halloween, but that's the top step of a slide that shoots straight into Thanksgiving, loop-de-loops for a few weeks, then slingshots into Christmas.

Isabelle is pretty good about leaving Kurt be when he needs time away and diverting business calls to his receptionist. But Sebastian’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing, which tends to happen when every client you have thinks they're your only client. He shut the damn thing off, but that didn’t solve the problem. It only delayed it for a while. Once he turned it back on, he found he had a million messages, both text and voice, and in less than a minute, it began to ring again.

Sebastian had to change his ring tone. As much as he loves the song Running Home to You, he got sick of hearing it so much.

He didn't want this vacation to be the catalyst that made him hate it.

Driving down the interstate from the Hummel house to their hotel, Sebastian looked tense, gripping the wheel so tightly, Kurt thought he might tear it off the steering column. Kurt's dad and stepmom had noticed Sebastian on edge, too. They offered to take Thomas for the night, giving Kurt and Sebastian some alone time at their hotel.

But Kurt couldn't wait till they got there.

He had to do something. He’d never seen Sebastian so wound up.

He was afraid that if he didn’t find a way to calm Sebastian down, he’d snap, veer off the highway in a rage, and drive straight into a tree.

Not really, but Kurt had an appreciation for the dramatic.

At most, Sebastian would get back to their room and spend the whole night watching Battlestar Galactica reruns on TV.

He'd been prescribed medication for a chronic case of stress-related acid reflux and had suffered three major bouts of insomnia since the beginning of the fiscal year. Kurt didn’t want that to happen again, not here, where they had come back to the familiar to get away from it all.

Kurt had an idea, but he didn’t know quite how to execute it. It wasn’t exactly his idea. It came from an old movie his dad had been watching during A&E’s Salute to Steve Martin. Kurt had rolled his eyes when he saw it, thought it immature and uncouth. But looking at Sebastian, a vein throbbing in his neck from the anxiety of phone call avoidance, Kurt thought he would give it a try.

What could it hurt?

Kurt had given Sebastian countless hand jobs while driving before. A blow job couldn’t be much more difficult.

Sebastian was focused on the road, his brain caught in a web of issues that had nothing to do with Lima, Halloween, visiting his in-laws, or even Kurt. He didn’t notice Kurt undo the buckle of his belt, unbutton the fly of his jeans, then sneak underneath his arm to get at his flaccid member. It took Kurt grabbing his husband’s cock and sticking it in his mouth before Sebastian reacted, jumping at the unexpected sensation of hot and wet, then letting out a long gasp as that heat crept under his skin.

“God, Kurt,” Sebastian moaned. “W-what are you doing? You can’t … we shouldn’t … be doing that now.”

"Wow," Kurt mumbled. "That's quite a change of tune for the man who used to accept a b.j. pretty much anywhere."

"True, but I'm older. Wiser. Undecided as to whether or not I want my obituary to mention that this is how I died."

“You don’t think you’re a good enough driver to handle a little distraction?” Kurt looked up from Sebastian’s lap, a half-smile on his moistened lips.

“I didn’t say that.” That, to Kurt, was as good as the go-ahead, and he went back to circling the head of Sebastian’s cock with his tongue. “B-but …” Sebastian interrupted in a shuddering voice, “w-what if a cop notices your head in my lap and we get pulled over?”

Kurt climbed up Sebastian’s chest - right hand stroking slowly, the fingers of his left threading into his husband’s hair. “I’ll just tell that nosy officer that I was sitting here beside my sexy husband, getting hard and bothered, and I couldn’t help myself. I just had to have my mouth on him. Then I’d tell him to move along.”

Sebastian smirked. “You’d say that, hmm?”

“You bet your gorgeous ass I would.” And Kurt sank slowly back into his husband’s lap to get his mouth around him again.

“But I wanna be able to properly enjoy it,” Sebastian whined as his husband’s talented tongue began long laps up and down his shaft.

“If you don’t enjoy it,” Kurt purred, “I promise a repeat performance back at the hotel.”

“Mmm, I'm gonna hold you to that.”

“Please do.” Kurt paused a moment to kiss Sebastian gently down the length of his erection – soft little pecks he knew drove his husband wild. “So relax, keep your eyes on the road, and try not to kill us, okay?”

“O-okay,” Sebastian agreed, adjusting his seat as far back as it would go and toeing the pedals to let Kurt work his magic.

Kurt hadn’t meant to make this the best b.j. of Sebastian’s life. He didn't even think that was possible at this point in Sebastian's sexual life. He had hoped to keep his husband at a low boil, relax him but leave him a horny mess so that when they got back to their room, the real fun could begin. But Sebastian sounded like he was enjoying it so much, that he was so desperate to cum, it spurred Kurt on. He found himself doing everything he could to make his husband moan louder, buck up into his mouth, swear like a sailor.

It didn’t take long to get Sebastian to the point where he was shallowly, but rhythmically, snapping his hips. And even though Kurt had intended on torturing him all the way back to their hotel, he was kind of relieved. He had heard Sebastian’s car engine rev twice now. Kurt couldn’t get a good look at the speedometer, but he had a feeling his husband might be exceeding the speed limit.

“Oh, God, Kurt. I’m … I’m cumming, Kurt. I’m …” It was at the moment of his fantastic climax that Sebastian shut his eyes for a split second, opening them when a horn honked too loud and much too close for comfort. Sebastian turned the wheel abruptly, swerving out of the path of oncoming traffic and plowing into a tree. How ever he hit the aged oak, the airbags malfunctioned, which turned out to be a blessing since the force behind one of those deploying might have snapped Kurt’s neck. As it was, Sebastian had managed to slow down enough that, even though the damage to the vehicle looked tremendous, the two shaken men were able to unbuckle their seat belts and exit the car.

Kurt’s mother always said that a separate God looked after fools and children.

Kurt peeks up at the smoking remains of Sebastian’s demolished engine.

Kurt is a thirty-five-year-old man. That definitely makes him a fool.

Flashing lights approach from the slow lane and pull up beside Sebastian’s wrecked Porsche. Kurt knew a highway patrol officer would probably be along any time, but he still didn’t want to have to face up to what happened. Not to a man with a badge and a gun.

The officer doesn’t get out of his patrol car right away, which unnerves Kurt. But he has to remember that the man has things he has to do first: run Sebastian’s plates, check the secret police database to make sure it’s not stolen, that two men fitting their descriptions aren’t wanted by the law. When the officer does leave his car, he has in his possession the brightest flashlight Kurt has ever seen. He shines it almost in their eyes, its beam bouncing from Sebastian, who raises a hand and waves; to Kurt, who nods solemnly and looks down at his shoes; to the once immaculate black car, folded almost in half. Luckily, no one had pulled over with them, either to help them or harass them, so the only two people who know what happened are Kurt and Sebastian.

And Kurt intends on taking this to his grave.

“Good evening,” the officer says. “You gentlemen look like you got yourselves into a bit of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian says. “I’m afraid we did.”

“Are either of you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

Kurt curls in on himself further, but Sebastian shakes his head, cool and calm, as if his husband isn’t trying to disappear into his own skin like the house at the end of the movie Poltergeist that crumbled inside out before blinking out of existence.

“No,” Sebastian answers. “Luckily, we both came out okay. Not even a scratch.”

“That’s good to hear.” The officer approaches them, wearing a genuine-enough smile. “Do you need a tow truck?”

“No.” Sebastian continues to carry the conversation while Kurt, maintaining a low profile, is quietly impressed by how collected his husband sounds. Maybe that blow job helped a little. Kurt has that to be proud of. It probably wasn’t worth a $60,000 car, though. “I contacted my insurance company. They’re sending a tow.”

“Great. In that case, can either one of you tell me what happened?”

Sebastian glances sideways at his mortified husband, a smile on his lips hiding multiple embarrassing remarks at Kurt’s expense.

“Uh, do you want to tell him what happened, Kurt?” Sebastian asks. “You did say that you’d handle it.”

“No,” Kurt replies quietly, holding himself tighter, thinking that now is not the appropriate time for his husband to be teasing him. Though, if Kurt had stuck to what was appropriate and waited till they got to their hotel room before deep-throating his husband, they might not be in this mess. “No, I do not.”

#kurtbastian fic #kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt

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mochuelovelli · 4 years ago

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Lilith for the character ask?

Oh boy, a controversial character! Gotta say, I stan James Charles /J

How do I feel about this character?:

On a real note, I do like Lilith as a character. When we first meet her, she's pompous and proud. Oozing with entitlement, she's easy to route against and you like to see her get worked up and "brought down" to Eda's level as the wild which so eloquently put it. Later on, but not too much later that it feels disingenuous, we really get to see her show that she cares for her sister. One might believe it is *Eda* being ridiculous, as far as the audience is aware, Lilith's offer holds little downsides. Eda would be cured and be afforded the luxuries of the upper class AND keep her magic. All she had to do was be the Emperor's soldier.

As to not get off track by talking about Eda, (im sure Lilith herself would loathe that lol) Lilith's reveal to have cursed her sister over a spot in the emperor's coven was...controversial to say the least. I don't think it's unpopular to voice that, yeah. It could've been communicated better to the audience since I saw plenty of commentators and regular fans themselves either thought Lilith cursing her sister was *needlessly* petty and not at all thought out (which yeah it kinda was).

From where I stand on that issue is, yeah, Lilith's whole reason to curse her sister could've been avoided by just talking to her sister and asking her to let her have this. BUT, I think a lot of people forget that the Emperor's coven would want to limit the number of powerful witches in their coven. Sure, Belos would want to be protected by a bunch of loyal soldiers, but he wouldn't want too much of the population to ever have a much power as him. So limiting the number of members in not just his coven but possible in the other major covens, would aid in controlling that population.

This might be pure hogwash but like, there are a ton of other "lesser" covens. So in my mind, it's more likely that the general population of witches gets sorted into one of the various miscellaneous. If you think limiting yourself to only practicing Illusion magic sucks, imagine only practicing whatever the fuck the "swag coven" does.

Lol gonna add a page break this shit is getting too long

Romantic Ships for this character?:

Hm, it's only s1 and we haven't seen her interact w/ many characters outside of her fam/Belos/actual children. I kinda jokingly ship here with Steve lol. Kikimora and her also have a funny dynamic but in all actuality, I don't ship her w/ anyone rn.

Non-Romantic Ships for this character?:

Her and Hooty lol. I mean Eda is an obvious answer but like, Hooty fucking with Lilith is too funny to not want to see. Her and King would be great too, probably get some good B plots out of it. It would be a good contrast since they both can be petty but in different ways and I think that would help flesh out their characters a bit more and maybe cause some introspection (at least on Lilith’s end lol)

Unpopular opinion about this character?:

Lol. I feel like she is such a divisive character in general that most opinions about her aren’t too out of the main stream. I guess a more meta take is that when she’s portrayed in fanworks, usually fanfic but not exclusively, very...one note lol. She’s usually a pretty flat, boring character in an attempt to highlight the contrast between her and Eda. She’s the straight-laced, “responsible” sibling who has a chip on her shoulder. In fanon, that equates to her characterization to either be like, completely and utterly apologetic to the point where it becomes unbelievable for any person to do. Her apologizing or making amends is usually quickly forgiven by Luz/and or Eda. Sure, Luz is very forgiving person naturally but like?? She’s wasn’t mad in canon too much about THEIR well being (almost getting impaled), she was specifically pissed about Lilith betraying Eda.

So, if Lilith is a big part of your story (and it’s working in the realm of canon), then this should be a problem which doesn’t get resolved by just ONE big action. I also feel like her being on better terms with Eda would come BEFORE Luz since Eda’s main gripe with her would be about her being annoyed by Lilith’s controlling nature and the fact that she didn’t trust her enough to talk about her feelings back when she was first cursed (also her using Luz against her but I feel like that would probably be a hurdle that wouldn’t really be over come until Lilith in turn would be willing to sacrifice herself for Luz while also making an effort to care for Luz as a person not just see her as a “pet”). Hhhh this section is so long and its kinda bleeding over in the next question so-

Something I wish will happen or would have wanted to happen in canon?:

yall if you are still reading I am so sorry sksk

I want Lilith in general, not to be forgiven by either Luz or Eda. Eda probably early on stating about how she is unsure if she could EVER forgive her sister for what she has done. BUT, critically, Eda would see that Lilith is trying and she is willing to work with her (with a unhelpful dose of teasing) because at the end of the day she still loves her sister. For the relationship they had before everything with south, for knowing her side of the story even though she believes it doesn’t justify her actions. She understands and sympathizes, she’s grown a bit softer thanks to Luz, which is very funny since I want Luz to be the one who is the hardest to convince Lilith actually had a change of heart but more on that later.

Before I move on to what I want her path towards forgiveness with Luz looks like, I want to bring up a parallel that I haven’t seen many people make. Fans always talk about the parallel between the Clawthornes and Luz/Amity, and rightly so because there is a lot to extrapolate there, but I think another interesting dynamic that might be interesting to see in s2 would be an episode that focuses on lost friendship/sisterhood with the Clawthornes and Amity and Willow. It’s kinda funny that Amity and Willow’s friendship was ruined because Willow was too “weak” while Eda was too “powerful”. In a potential episode, it can show the progression both Eda/Lilith and Willow/Amity are making in rekindling their relationship with each other. For Eda and Lilith this would be a lot more rough around the edges since it both be either the first or one of the first attempts at doing so while Willow/Amity would maybe be further along yet still have some major/minor hang ups with one another. With Willow/Amity, their relationship would either be rounding the bend of fully moving past the “idk how to feel about you stage” or it is stated outright that Willow forgives Amity, (and by forgive, I mean in the “we both know what you did, you’ve actually changed. we won’t have the same relationship that we once had but I’m okay with trying again”). In contrast, Lilith and Eda would reach a understanding and come up with some ground rules on how to handle each other (Eda’s main take away from this “episode” would be what I previously stated in the last question), ones that will be more like guidelines cuz its Eda lol. Also what separates the Clawthornes conflict from the Willow/Amity one (besides the obvious) is that the Clawthornes both know how the other works. Which buttons to push and all that so both of them are going to have to learn to resist doing that, at least a bit, in order to actually progress.

ANYWAYS, I also want Luz to be the one to regard Lilith the coldest. Luz refusing to let Lilith teach her anything despite probably having more practical/book smarts knowledge on magic theory than Eda because she doesn’t trust her. If they are gonna use that masked dude as a spy, I want Luz to assume Lilith is somehow a coconspirator. This plot thread doesn’t have to be going at 100% the whole time, (in fact I would want it to be a temp thing maybe lasting a couple eps at most or like, just something that is hinted at but not dived deeply until the second half of the season). Really, Lilith has a hard time because Luz straight up doesn’t give her the opportunity to really express her regret/remorse. Lilith probably won’t at first give her a ton of reasons to forgive her as she usually attempts at coming back at Luz’s snide remarks with her own quippy comebacks. Sksk a really angsty end to an attempt could include Lilith saying something to Luz after going on a small talk with her (where yeah Lilith has improved but still needs noticeable work) that she “reminds her a lot of Eda” and Luz bites back with something like “Oh yeah? You going to curse me too? You want another person you can force to do what YOU want?”.

Hell maybe “parental problems” could have Lilith poke at, either on purpose or accidentally, Luz’s feelings about going back to the human world and Camila. Lilith reminding her, maybe unknowingly, reminds her a lot of her mom and that causes her to blow up on her. Luz would hate that comparison, thinking about how similar her mom and Lilith are to one another. That because she still has such a strong dislike of Lilith, it bleeds over into how Luz views Camila and vice versa. In that, both Camila and Lilith value respect, an adherence to the rules, have a great sense of wisdom (arguably for Lilith lol /hj), and (eventually for Lilith once she gets to know Luz better) a genuine want for Luz to succeed and belief in her even though they are critical of her actions at times. Sure Eda reminds her of that more, motherly protective kind of love, in which she would do anything for her to be happy and healthy. Lilith can be the other side of that, the worry and slight doubt. That familiar way they each go about trying to understand and get close to Luz yet not quite getting it yet would still do whatever she’d ask for her sake. Luz at first would take Lilith being disappointed in her actions as an accomplishment. As they grow closer and the more Lilith reminds her of her mom, it becomes scary. The disappointment hurts and in an effort not to feel like that again and to not want to think about the comparison between Lilith and her mother she will snap back at her. Eventually Lilith would then have to change again and reassure her that she cares and by extent, her mother cares to. It is here Lilith is willing to let go of being so constantly controlling and learns to encourage first (or do some form of the compliment sandwich) and Luz comes to peace with her feelings about her mother and understands her position better. To be able to love herself even if she knows that she will always try to do her best.

oh my fucking god you made it im so sorry i guess i had a lot of thoughts. fffffff

#TOH #lilith clawthorne #the owl house #character ask meme #luz noceda #edalyn clawthorne #yall im so sorry #this is very fanficy an long rip #if you read all this you are a champ but also no i cant cover your insurance lol

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giddyupponyboy · 5 years ago

Text

Anonymous asked: "50 w/ Steve Randle? Thank you!"

warnings: intoxication?

a/n sorry this took so long, i was super hesitant about posting it because i feel like it’s not good enough but i honestly couldn’t really think of anything to add.

Also sorry for the lack of imagines, between work and trying to run my art blog i’m finding it hard to set aside time to write but my motivation is back and im halfway through another one so I’ll be posting again soon!

also credit to gif creator, i just found it on google so lmk if you know who made it!

alright leggo!

A classic greaser party. It was at some guy named Charlies house this time around. Word was his parents were out of town for a while, so he decided to throw a shake for all his friends. But it ended up being much bigger than that, and how she ended up there was beyond her. One minute she was pregaming with the boys at the Curtis house, the next she was stumbling around pushing past people to find anyone that looked familiar.

She did not like being drunk. She felt disoriented and awkward. Not to mention she becomes out of control of her actions and says and does anything she pleases. She regrets it immensely the next day, making a note not to drink so much next time. But one thing leads to another and the cycle repeats.

Steve. She needed to find Steve. She had lost him somehow, unable to retrace her steps to where she last saw him. They were both quite intoxicated and had been hanging on each other all night, Steve being much more possessive than he’d ever been. It was obvious they had feelings for each other, but it definitely came out more when they were drunk. She had almost flat out told him her feelings for him many times that night, but the small sober part of her kept that instinct well guarded. That would definitely be something she’d regret in the morning.

Still, her actions probably made it very obvious. Hanging on him, kissing him on the cheek. But the actions were reciprocated, which made her drunken heart jump for joy. The memories were slowly coming back. She started to remember walking with him hand in hand from the Curtis house to the party. Then coming inside. But it began to get quite hazy from there.

She pushed past various people in the crowded room. Her vision was blurred and she was dizzy, struggling to maintain balance. Every time she felt herself leaning too far over to one side, she steadied herself on one of the many individuals standing in the room. She would quietly apologize and continue on.

“(y/n).” a voice called. It was muffled. She looked all around but could not find anyone. “(y/n)!” it said again, louder this time. She was about to turn around once more when she felt herself stumble and fall. Before she got too low, a pair of arms caught her, and a broad chest cushioned her. She looked up and in her distorted haze she was able to make out Steve’s features.

“Steve!” she slurred with relief. “I was lookin’ everywhere for you!”

He looked at her with a worried expression when he saw her state. “C’mon,” He said, leading her away from the crowd. “Let’s take you someplace quiet.” He guided her through the house then to the stairs. He helped her up as he followed closely behind. She tried her best not to stumble and sway too much, but it was futile. If Steve’s hands weren’t on her waist as she climbed up, she probably would have fallen backwards. Once they reached the top, Steve’s hands left her waist.

He walked around to face her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders and bending down to eye level to talk to her. “You wait here, alright?” He said firmly. She nodded in response.

He turned and walked down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. It was obviously occupied; the door was closed, and suspicious noises could be heard from inside. Luckily for him, the door was unlocked. He pushed into the room as she stood by and watched, not quite comprehending what was going on. She was jolted a bit when she heard him yelling.

“Get out! Now!” he said from inside the room. There were shouts of anger yelling back at him. But soon after, a young couple walked out of the room, their heads hanging low as they shuffled past her and down the stairs. Steve came back out of the room and grabbed her hand. She followed him and he led her to the bed. “Wait here.” He said. “I’m gonna go get you some water.”

She giggled and nodded, and Steve left the room. She was very slowly starting to sober up. The room was spinning less, and she felt like she could hear a bit better.

She lied down on the bed and closed her eyes, almost drifting off to sleep when she heard the door open. “Here.” He said, holding the glass out to her. She sat up and took it cautiously. He filled it so much any slight movement caused the liquid to spill. He took as seat beside her and rubbed her back. “How much did you drink.” He laughed.

She was still chugging, her thirst seemingly unquenchable. Once finished, she handed him the glass. “I don’t even remember.” She said honestly. “Last thing I really remember was being at the Curtis house.”

“That was a few hours ago now.” Steve chuckled. “Just get some rest.”

She laid down and pulled him back with her. “Will you stay with me?” A bold move for her. Almost too bold. She was definitely still intoxicated, as she would have never done that if she was anywhere remotely close to sober.

“Yeah, just let me close the door, I don’t want anyone walking in here.”

She got comfortable under the covers. She must have fallen asleep before Steve even made it back to the bed because before she knew it, she was woken softly by the sunlight peeking through the window.

She slowly peeled her eyes open, confused and distorted. She looked to her side and saw Steve sleeping soundly beside her, his strong arm laying across her lazily. She glanced around the room trying to piece together the events of the evening prior. It was all blurry, but she was able to vaguely piece together the night.

“Steve.” She whispered, turning onto her side to face him. “Steve.” She whispered again, a little louder this time.

He hummed in response and his eyes slowly opened. “What?” he asked lazily, looking at her through half closed lids.

“What happened last night? Why are we still here? She asked.

He smiled and closed his eyes again. “You were too drunk so I brought you up here to get some rest.” He said, sighing with contentment.

Her post-drinking anxiety began to wash over here. “Did I say or do anything odd?” She asked, inching closer a bit.

He opened his eyes again, grinning wider. “No.”

“Oh my,” She began. “What happened?” she felt queasy, hoping it wasn’t too bad.

“Nothing really,” he began, moving his arm off her and turning onto his back.

“What does that mean?” She asked with urgency.

He turned to look at her for a moment before turning back to face her and pressing his lips to hers.

Her thoughts came to a halt at the action, but he slowly pulled away shortly after.

“E-excuse me, Steve! What makes you think-”

“C’mon, (y/n) it was so obvious last night.” He chuckled.

She scrunched her face up. “Was it?” she asked in a condescending tone. “From what I remember, it was you who was making it obvious.” she giggled.

Steve positioned himself on top of her. Her heart jumped with nervousness and excitement. She stared at him, his hair disheveled but cute. And his eyes; bright blue, and more awake now.

“Well, you don’t really remember much from last night so that doesn’t really mean anything.” He teased, his hands slowly trailing up her body to her jaw, gently gracing it with his fingers. Every slight touch sent shivers down her spine. She began to feel more adventurous, her hand moving up his bicep to the nape of his neck. She lightly tugged at his hair as he leaned in.

Their lips moved with one another as the sounds of the world slowly drowned out around them. It was tender and passionate, everything she’d wanted and more. She didn’t want the moment to end.

Much to her dismay, they were interrupted by the sound of a door opening from the lower level and a voice calling out “Charlie! We’re home early!” followed by a gasp, then “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY HOUSE?”

They looked at each other with wide eyes. “We should get out of here.” She said frantically.

“Aw c’mon, just one more kiss.” He said leaning in again.

“No, Steve,” She fought her way out from underneath him. “We gotta go, now!” She pulled him out of bed and slowly opened the door. Yelling could be heard from the living room. They slowly tip toed down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Poor Charlie,” Steve whispered, looking around at the mess that littered the house. Cups everywhere, spilled drinks on the floor, crumbs and chips scattered around. It was a wild night, and it showed. “His parents are gonna kill him.”

She shushed him as she continued leading him down the stairs. They carefully walked into the kitchen as the yelling continued in the living room. Charlie was trying to defend himself but his mom wouldn’t let him get a word in.

She noticed a door leading to the backyard in the kitchen, she dragged him along and they made their escape.

#steve x reader #steve #Steve Randle #steve randle imagine #steve randle x reader #the outsiders imagines #The Outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders ships #the outsiders preferences #greaser imagines

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