#I know we always say his fascination with America is cringe

[rickybaby]

American driver you say? Is there anyone more American than Daniel Yeehaw Ricciardo? I think not

[gh0stfacesho3]

Transfer of Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Gender Non-Specific Reader

Word Count: +3.5k 

Warning: Fluff, mild angst. Professor x Student (College Au, all characters are +18), language, mention of abuse, mention of alcohol. 

Summary: As a Professor in the states, you were used to transfer students. You weren’t exactly ready for this new transfer student who is the son of the owner of Mike Sneakers (we don’t do free sponsors here ) 

   You were especially used to transfer students because you had a doctorate in linguistics. Being this, you knew a plethora of languages, from English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Greek, Latin, and a few native languages. You were always fascinated by languages and how people came up with these mixes of characters and words to make beautiful phrases. Since you were a kid you started to learn other languages. You had a French neighbor in your old hometown which is where you picked it up at age 7. Then, when you were 10, your family took a trip to Mexico which is when you became interested by Spanish. You fully understood the language by age 11 due to your prior knowledge of French. Then this process just continued where you would just learn languages mainly for fun. This lead to you being a linguistics professor who also taught second languages and would take in quite a few transfer kids. This lead to the journey of Jeon Jungkook and it was definitely a wild one. 

   You walked into your office at about 9:00 and placed your laptop onto the desk. You straighten up your outfit before settling in and getting to work. As you looked through your emails, you noticed an email that was about another transfer student. You kind of glanced over it, but didn’t pay too much mind to it, assuming it was just another kid from out of country. As 10:00 started to roll around, your students walked in. Some smiled, others chugged some unhealthy energy drink, some even chatted with you before finding their seats. As everyone found their seats, you looked out to see a new student. 

“You, new kid, come up front and do that cringe introduction.” You chuckle, emitting a chuckle from a few kids. He tilts his head in confusion, probably because he doesn’t speak English. Due to your gesture though, he assumes you want him to introduce himself. 

“You don’t already know who I am?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear in his first language. 

“Actually, no, I don’t.” You responded quickly as you clasped your hands before beckoning him to the front again. He was a little shocked that you spoke Korean so well, being he had no prior information on you. You were used to kids who thought they were all that but something about this kid who was ‘dressed to impress’ rubbed you the wrong way. He walks down to the front and rolls his eyes at you. 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook...23. Korean” He said in English the best he could. You smiled and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Professor Y/L/N, find your seat now.” You responded before turning to the large chalk board and continuing your lesson. After the two hour lecture, you dismissed class. Jungkook was asleep in the back, which made you walk up to him and nudge him. 

“Its lunch time, go eat.” You say as he wakes up. He shrugged off your hand before collecting his things. 

“Filthy commoner.” He mumbled as he shoved past you. You would’ve been insulted if it were true, but it wasn’t. You collect your things and head out to your favorite cafe. Being it was a Tuesday, that class was the only one you had for the day so you treated yourself to some coffee. You notice a bit of commotion outside, but you try to ignore it and sneak inside. 

“Y/N Y/L/N!! IS IT TRUE YOU’RE TEACHING JEON JUNGKOOK?!” 

“Y/N?!?!”

“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT JUNGKOOK?” 

You were confused by all the bombarding questions so you ran into the café and shut the door along with someone else. You turned to see the brat himself, Jeon Jungkook. 

“What mess have you fuckin brought me into?” You huffed as your back pressed against the door. 

“I didn’t do anything! I just went for a walk and got lost!” He huffed back at you. 

“Why are you so popular?” You asked as you held your hand on your forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re a horrible teacher if you can’t read a simple email. I’m the son of the owner of Mike tennis shoe company.” He responded. You rolled your eyes as stood up and walked in line, happy to see police shows up to wrangle up paparazzi. 

“What? Don’t care about my father’s company?” He mumbled. You go to order your drink and the barista looks confused. You realized you just ordered in Korean. You apologized before trying again. After you pay, Jungkook walks up and tried to get a drink. 

“C-coffee?” He basically asked, leaving the barista to ask a series of question. Jungkook looks over to you for help, making you chuckle. 

“Why should I help? You called me a shitty teacher.” You faked being offended which made Jungkook embarrassed. 

“I’ll pay for you.” He said, making you more than willing to help him. Being you already bought your drink, he just handed you a 20 like it was nothing. 

“That's way to much money Jungkook.” You said as you grabbed your coffee and went to hand him the money back. 

“It’s nothing to me and my father always says to help the less fortunate.” He said before drinking his coffee, which intern made you laugh. 

“You’re a brat but you’re a cool kid.” You say as you sit down and he follows. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he does the same back. 

“Who said you could sit with me?” Making him tilt his head. 

“Who said you got here first?” Jungkook barked back at you. You held your hands up in defense. 

“You’re going to have to get used to me being I will probably be your living translator...also whos your host family?” You waited for his response as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“I-...I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t check your email?” You teased like he did you which seemed to piss him off. 

“I can’t fuckin read English!” Which made you shocked. How could a school send this kid an email in a language he doesn’t know. You hold your hand out for his phone which he reluctantly gives to you. You mumble out the email before getting to the important part. 

“Your father has entrusted Professor Y/N with your care being they have the most experience with transfer students.” You were used to hosting kids but you thought someone of such class would be with, well you didn’t know, maybe someone the kid knew? 

“With you?” He almost sounded disgusted. You were actually upset that you didn’t read that email but you had a rough weekend. 

You sighed, “Look kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He fussed. He was right. He said he was 23 and so were you. (Seems young for being a professor right, you’re just pretty smart and graduated early) 

“Okay, sorry. But look, you either live with me for the what, 3 months you’re gonna be here? Or ask your daddy for money to live in a hotel for 3 months.” You teased, making him sigh. 

“I’m not talking to him...that's why he sent me here.” Jungkook looked down at his now empty iced coffee. 

You stood up and patted his shoulder. “Then suck it up buttercup. Lets go get your shit and move you in.” 

“Want me to call an Uver?” The boy asked. (again, no free sponsors in this house).

“Nope. My car isn’t too far from here.” You smiled as you walked closer to the college campus. You turned before getting to campus and walked up to the car park. 

He pointed to an abandoned car that has been there for years, “Is that yours?” he teased. 

You smiled as you pulled out your key fob, clicking the unlock button to see a black lambo unlock. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared in awe. 

“Come on pretty boy, not scared are you?” You smiled as you hopped in. He scurried into the car with a wide smile. 

“Here I was thinking you were some poor teacher.” 

“I’m a professor first of all, second” you start the engine with a loud purr, “I have my perks.”  You smirked. 

Its been about a month since Jungkook has been moved in. One day y’all were sitting at the table, awkwardly eating dinner like you guys did every night when he got a phone call. You have never seen him smile since the first time he got in the car and besides that, he’s been a pain in your ass more than anything. Good thing is, he’s actually learned quite a bit of English and can order his food in public. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him fussing. 

“No Dad! Please you can’t make me stay here! I am studying and doing my work! This isn’t fair!” He argued, pacing back in forth before heading to his room which was a guest room. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME IN AMERICA BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME. MY PROFESSOR ISN’T MY BABY SITTER, THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LIFE WHICH IS BETTER WITHOUT ME!....you were only right about one thing dad... I’m a bother to everyone around me.” Jungkook finished before in went quiet. You didn’t know what to say. He knew he was being difficult because he wanted to be. He wants you to be upset and kick him out so he can go home. He wants to be out of you hair. You walked to his room and knocked, and saw something you never saw you see. Tears. 

“W-what?!” He sniffled as he turned around and rubbed his eyes. You just walked up to him and turned him around, pulling him into a hug. He was reluctant at first before he finally gave in. 

“You’re a brat yes, but you’re not a bother. And if you’d stop distancing yourself, we might be able to make this extended time more enjoyable.” Was the only thing you could say. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you...I just thought if maybe,”

“Maybe if I got annoyed enough I’d kick you out so you could go home?” He nodded to your question. 

“Welp, I’m a tough cookie to crack.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“God we are the same age but you talk like a 80 year old.” He laughed as he wiped his face again. 

The two of you then go and talk about him and his life back at home. He explains how his grades are slipping and that is why he is forced to stay here longer. How he doesn’t like going to college because it’s not what he wants to do in life. Jungkook explained that he wanted to be a singer and even showed you a few songs he has covered and composed. They were really good in actuality. You agreed with him if he can get English down pat and pick his grades up, you’d help him peruse his career. 

-

It’s now been 3 months and Jungkook is basically speaking fluent English. He is also passing all your classes and is starting to open up to you a lot more. It was Spring break so you decided to go out with a few friends to get a drink. You invited Jungkook but he said he wanted to finish a paper he got an extension on so you just went out on your own. You and all your friends were dancing in the club and downing drinks like fish. You may have gotten a little too drunk being it was your first night out by yourself. Jungkook recently started to get more friends so you had some free time, but you haven’t gone out since he got here which is why you let yourself get as drunk as you did. It was towards the end of the night and the bouncer would not let you out with your keys due to how drunk you were. 

“Move you b-big bo-ouf...” You stumbled as you tried to squeeze past him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You huffed before pulling out your phone and smashing keys in and calling whoever popped up. 

“Professor? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned as to why you called him after not responding to his text asking when you’d be home. 

“I-im dr-drunk and this fuckin cunt won’t let me out.” You whined as you still tried to squeeze past him. “Don’t-...Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Look, I’ll get an Uver and come pick you up.” Jungkook said as he got his things and hung up on you. 

You looked at your silent phone with an angry expression,”...bitch” 

Jungkook came walking in and saw you sitting on the floor poking the bouncers leg. 

“Can you get this parasite off of me?” The large man asked looking down at me. 

Jungkook stoops down and helps you up. You stumble toward him before you turned to look at the bouncer and stick your tongue out. You also flipped him off before Jungkook grabbed your hand and brought you to the Uver. You sat by the window and he did the same. You two finally got to your house and he helped bring you up. You tore your arm away from him as you stumbled up the stairs. 

“I’m not a fuckin baby.” You grumbled as you immediately fell on the stairs. The male huffed as he helped you up. 

“Get OFF of ME Jackson!” You pushed him away as tears filled your eyes. “I’m not your fuckin victim anymore!” 

“Y/n?” Jungkook put his hands up and came to you slowly, “Its just me...Jungkook.” You finally started to calm down as you slowly tried to climb the stairs to your home. Jungkook helped you up and brought you to the couch. Jungkook grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the palms of your hand that were scrapped up. He then wiped your eyes and petted your head. 

After Jungkook helped you that night, there was this awkward air again. He felt like walking on eggshells around you. Who was Jackson and why did you say you weren’t his victim. Jungkook asked his classmates around campus and even a few teachers as best he could. He finally found a teacher who was willing to give him a small amount of information. 

“Now, I’m not going to say a lot because it isn’t my story to tell, but Jackson is Y/n’s ex....and let’s say he won’t be getting boyfriend of the year award.” Dr. Nick explained. Jungkook had enough information to make a firm decision. He was going to show you what a man should treat others like. He wasn’t your boyfriend or even considered you that much of a friend, but he felt guilty for living with you almost rent free (even though the school payed for his stay). 

Jungkook went to the store after he was done with classes and picked up a lot of food to make you dinner as payment for all the times you made him dinner. He bought you your favorite candy, or so he assumed because he’d always find the wrappers in the trash. He even bought you a gift card to the coffee shop you love and headed home. Being it was a Friday, he knew you would be home a little later. The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he knew a lot more about you than he thought. Jungkook started to think about all the little things you did for him. How certain foods would pop up more after he mentioned them. How you would cook different meals just for his liking and make sure he had a decent environment to study in. How you would stay up late and call of work a few times just to help him study. Jungkook smiled as he started to mentally prepare himself for cooking. He also hoped he wouldn’t burn your house down because he had very little cooking experience. 

Jungkook starts cooking a dish he often enjoyed back at home: Spicy Ramen with rice cakes and kimbap. The button down shirt he wore to school was now slightly disheveled and stained. He rolled his sleeve up as he looked at the time-- 5 more minutes. Or so he thought when he heard your keys jingle at the door. He mildly panicked before setting up the food at the table and cleaning up quickly. He ran to the door as you finally started to open it and he stopped you.

“Huh?” You asked looking at his slightly sweaty face. “Jungkook if you’re having sex-” 

“AH No no no!! But I have to ask for you to stand out here for 5 more minutes...trust me.” You don’t know why but you did trust him, and so you stood there for 5 whole minutes. You thought about all the possibilities you could walk into: A girl or a guy running out half naked, your house destroyed, drugs...etc.  Jungkook came back looking a lot more put together and opened the door. You were hit with a mix of smells and were shocked. 

“J-jungkook, did you ? You didn’t- no you can’t cook can you?” You asked as you walked in and admired the kitchen. 

“I noticed you’ve been working more and I felt bad for staying here, even longer than expected... So I wanted to show you that I can be a proper man and treat another human being with respect.” 

“I don’t care the reason as long as it taste good...and it looks amazing Jeon.” You quickly wash your hands and sit down ready to eat. Jungkook sat closer to you which you didn’t think much about being the ramen was in a big shared pot. You start digging in but you try to avoid the kimbap. You didn’t know if it had seafood and you didn’t want to take a chance. Jungkook picked up a piece and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Made without seafood.” He smiled before you opened your mouth and took a bite. You smiled as you continued to eat. Jungkook ate as well before making the perfect bite. You even noticed it and tried to follow what he did, but before you could, he offered it to you. You were about to take in the food before you paused. 

“Where is all this coming from?” You asked before taking the bite You smiled and almost forgot you asked a question until he cleared his throat. 

“Well, like I said I felt bad for staying here and being a brat...I also wanted to give you a taste of my culture since you’ve welcomed me into yours.” He explained with a small blush and a smile. 

“Yeah I get that, but what's with that stuff?” You asked pointing to the flower bouquet lined with your favorite candies and snacks. 

“Oh...well the same reason.” He smiled. You were suspicious but you decided to finish eating. You heart was really warmed but he wasn’t that much of a brat. Yeah it was inconvenient on occasion, but he’s helped you a lot. He helps with chores and keeps his area clean, he is good company since you’re always alone, and well...he’s a pretty boy to keep around. Not to mention he saved you from that club when you were piss ass drunk. The two of y’all were cleaning up and things were going good...until Jungkook said the forbidden name. 

“Y/n...who is Jackson?” You almost drop the plate you were cleaning. 

“I fuckin knew you were up to something...Did you go through my room?! My fucking personal life?!” You started to fuss but by the look on his face, he didn’t. 

“When you were drunk, you called me Jackson and said ‘I’m not your victim anymore’...” He paused, looking down before looking back at you, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You stared at the wall, looking for the right words to say. “Yeah...he did. And I’m sorry I did that that night...but I’m not a baby. I don’t need your sympathy or your fuckin pandering.” You huffed as you started to leave the kitchen but he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m not doing this to make up for him,...Nothing I can do can heal those scars. But I’m doing it to make up for me and my actions. And its my way of showing-....” Jungkook trailed off. 

“Showing what?” You said looking down at his hand holding your wrist. 

“It’s how I show affection to people I care about.” Jungkook said the words without really thinking. You were taken aback and pulled away from him. 

“Jungkook...I-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m not the first kid to say this am I? And you tell them all the same thing. ‘We can’t be together because I risk losing my job’ and all that...I know.” He said looking down at his feet. You were shocked he even had feelings for you. He was completely wrong because since Jackson, you kept these walls up and didn’t let anyone like you. You normally noticed when people would catch feelings and immediately turn them away...but this was different. You hadn’t realized he liked you because you were to busy pushing yourself away from him. You noticed you liked his presence more which is why you stayed later at work, to push yourself away. 

“Jungkook, that’s not it. I actually really care about you too. But there is the case with work that I don’t know if I can get passed...but I do appreciate this. And I appreciate you so much, but after Jackson...” You trailed off. 

“You don’t know if you’re ready and I understand that...but out of all the people I’ve met, your the one person I wouldn’t mind waiting for.” Jungkook admitted. He didn’t realize how strong he felt about you until he was in this moment. You also didn’t realize how strong you felt until you realized you moved closer to him. You always had your guard up around people, but you realized you were more venerable with Jungkook than with anyone else. You peered up at him to see his eyes were red from holding back his tears. 

You chuckled softly, “You’re such a baby.” You teased making him laugh before nudging you. 

“Yeah well this baby just cooked your dinner so whose baby now?” He retorted. 

“There’s that smile...”You mumbled, smiling as you two just stood there looking at each other. Jungkook’s eyes darted down to your lips before saying fuck it. He leaned in and held your cheeks in his hand. You felt this weird tension finally dissipate. You leaned in closer and placed your hands on top of his. 

“If you think about it, I graduate this year in a few months...so if we wait it out, you won’t have to worry about your job.” Jungkook reasoned as he pulled away. 

“That is true...even if you weren’t, I can always find another job.” You smiled, kissing him again. 

A/n: Sorry if this is a little rough, but I have been on a hiatus for about a year now. Writing is something I love doing but I’ve been so busy with school and have had so little motivation. I really wrote this whole thing within 2 days and I’m proud of myself. If you really liked it, hit that like and share button! If this gets enough love, I might open request again. 

[lightphieric]

Fluffuary Prompt #2: Long Conversations

AO3

Fandom: Zero Escape

Ship: Light/Junpei

CWs: Uh, cryptocurrency

“There’s a reason I date geniuses, you know? I like to learn shit.”

“Hmm.” Light cleared his throat, bristling at being called a genius. Junpei wasn’t incorrect, per se; he was more well-read than most, and the breadth of his knowledge was triple that of most people his age. But Light heard the word wielded derisively as often as complimentarily. “And what is it you think you can learn from me?”

“All kinds of stuff,” said Junpei. “Art, science… Man, I remember when we were in the library, you had something to say about almost every book we found. It left an impression.”

“Ah.” Light tilted his head. He brought his coffee to his lips, hoping it didn’t come off as him covering his face with embarrassment. “I’m afraid what you were so impressed with was overcompensation. You took such courageous charge of solving the room, and I didn’t want to appear to you as useless. I was afraid it came off as rather obnoxious. I promise, I am not typically like that.”

Junpei chuckled in confusion. Even when soft and not fully sincere, his laughter was infectiously full and hearty. “Like what?”

“Like an arrogant bastard. Truthfully, I find monologuing about my interests distasteful. Why would one exposit on their knowledge unsolicited if not to make others feel inadequate?” Clover did it all the time with philosophy, to disarm those who made assumptions about her intelligence. Don’t you love the look on their faces when they realize a waitress with pink hair is smarter than them? As far as Light knew, she was eavesdropping as she waited tables, laughing to herself over his humility.

“Who said anything about monologuing?” said Junpei. “I ask questions. I have tons of questions.”

Naturally, Junpei was the type of student who preferred to take an active role in his education, rather than simply listening and absorbing information. Light quite liked a man of initiative. “Consider me curious then, Junpei. What questions do you have?”

“So many. Like, uh…” Junpei clicked his tongue in thought. “Well, here’s a simple one. What’s your passion? What did you study in college?”

“Those are two very different questions, you realize.” And Junpei certainly hadn’t needed to flatter him so to preface such a basic first date question, but Light supposed he shouldn’t complain. “I studied biorobotics in school. I’d been fascinated by the field ever since I received this –” He waved his left hand. “- advanced and experimental model of prosthetic. I wished to better understand how my own body worked, and I got that wish. But after four years it was apparent that a career in the sciences was not my calling.

“My passion is the act of creation, to speak generally. I’ve been performing music since we moved to America, but I was never content with it until I began composing my own pieces. The same goes for literature – I have always loved reading, but something seemed missing from my life until I began work on my novel.”

“You’re writing a novel?” Light could practically hear Junpei’s jaw drop. “That’s next level. What’s it about?”

No. No no no. Light was cringing over how pretentious he sounded already; the last thing he wanted to be was the man who droned on and on about his experimental post-post-modernist novel. “Ah-ah, my turn to ask questions now!” he said, panicked. “We want this to be a dialogue, don’t we?”

“Uh… okay, sure. Shoot.”

“What were you studying in college?”

“Oh!” Junpei’s voice cracked as he interjected. Light worried he’d committed a faux pas, asking a drop-out about college, but Junpei seemed to have other concerns. “I, uh, designed my own major, but it was p-pretty niche… not that interesting, either, so, uh…”

Junpei was quite bad at remaining mysterious, and his embarrassment immediately narrowed down Light’s predictions to a limited number. His first guess would be Gender Studies, although why an openly bisexual man would be ashamed of that was unclear. “You intrigue me, Junpei. If you would rather not tell me, would you at least satisfy my curiosity about your major’s general field?”

“E-economics…”

Ah. Cryptocurrency. Not something Light had pegged as particularly likely, but Junpei’s shame over that phase of his life was appropriate in that case. Light knew they weren’t quite at the stage of the relationship where teasing was acceptable, but he couldn’t help himself. “I admit, economic theory is a gap in my knowledge. If you wouldn’t mind explaining some basic concepts for me…”

“I don’t know, dude.”

Light grinned. “Come, edify me. Do it and you can help me set up the harp. I’ll tell you how it works – every string, every curve.” His word choice was intentionally suggestive, and he suspected it wasn’t Junpei’s thirst to learn that made him hesitantly agree. It was charming to hear Junpei sound a pretentious fool explaining blockchain technology. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to act foolish in front of a potential romantic partner. Light decided he might someday give it a more honest try.

[theladyscarlettt]

Petals (pt.1)

*I have returned and I bring with me a Bucky x Reader mini series. This takes place during #TFATWS. Also, this is a bit lighter (yet darker) than my regular stuff. Not fluff but sweet because god knows Bucky deserves to be happy every now and then. Also, this does have references to the X-Men comics and WandaVision*

-The Lady Scarlettt

Synopsis: Madripoor had everything you needed to forget your past, and everything you needed to lose your future. 

Part Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, mentions of mutilation

---

Sunlight caught the blinds in a dance of shadows. Her eyes twitched with the familiar warmth of the morning star across her face. She slowly opened her eyes taking in the sight of their small room. It was bland and empty, just like their luck in finding Karli. (For a girl to be everywhere, she was also nowhere.) 

A grunt came from across the room, she sat up in the stiff bed to find Bucky lying on the floor with a blanket barely clinging to his sweaty body. She let out a soft sigh and rubbed her eyes. While he was capable of so much, she found it heartbreaking he had so little, it broke her to see him robbed of even the simplest of things such as rest and a bed. She pulled on his black tee shirt from the night before and snuck over to sit beside him. She watched as his eyes darted side to side behind his dark eye lids. If he didn’t sleep well before, he surely didn’t now with the constant traveling, search for Karli, run in with America’s Next Top Asshole and the literal cause of his night terrors in the next room. 

“Did you know it’s considered an invasion of privacy to watch someone while they’re asleep.” Bucky grumbled, his eyes still closed.

“Good thing you weren’t asleep then.” she stated.

A slight smirk tugged on his lips, “Did you sleep well?”

“I would have slept better if my pillow didn’t wonder off in the middle of the night.” she teased.

He opened one eye to look up at her, “Sorry.”

She only smiled sweetly, her hand finding its way to his stubbled cheek. “You really need a razor.” 

He grabbed her wrist pulling her down to him, and began to nuzzle her neck with his chin.

She gagged at the sensation, “Ugh- for an old man you really behave like a child- hey!” In one swift motion he was on top of her tickling her neck.

“Stop. Stop it.” She hissed as she playfully swat at him to get off her. He chuckled and leaned back still, straddling her waist. 

“You have so much energy in the mornings for literally no reason,” she groaned, rubbing her lightly burned skin. 

He leaned down to her, a smirk on his lips, “I can come up with a few, if you’d like.” 

She rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks began to flush, “Knock it off.”

He made a tch sound with his teeth, and sat back up.

She smiled and sat up on her knees, her hands clasping behind his neck, a finger twirling the slightly grown out hair. He leaned into her, looking up at her from where he sat, a sad expression came across his face. 

“What is it?” she asked, rubbing her nails lazily through his thick hair.

“I just,” he sighed trying to find his words, “I want to stay with you, but I just can’t make myself. I’m afraid of what I might do, if I stay too long.”

She tilted her head, searching his eyes, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to have an episode at night and lash out. Sometimes they feel so real and I get can’t control myself and the last thing I want to do is hurt you and-”

“Hey, Hey, Hey” she interrupted, “Look at me.” She lifted his face up to hers, “Look at me, you could never do anything to hurt me. I know you don’t trust yourself sometimes, but I trust you and I know you. I’m not afraid of the ‘what if’s.” Please, hear me when I say, I want you to let me in, I want to be apart of this, all of it. I want to help you Bucky, but I can only go as far as you’ll let me. And if it takes time, ok but it’s going to take more than a nightmare to make me go anywhere. Ok?”

He stared at her for a long time, a blank expression on his face. She couldn’t tell if she had overstimulated him with her cheesiness or he simply was dead. 

“Bucky? If I’m overstepping, I understand-”

He abruptly wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her small figure to his. She melted into his touch, just as she had the first time he held her. They stayed like that for awhile until she heard him whisper.

“I love you.”

She smiled against his cool skin, “I love you too.”

He brought her face up to meet his and kissed her softly. His lips were always so soft and warm, something you wouldn’t expect. His thumb made tiny circles along her jaw, as she kissed him back. His hand slowly snaked their way down to her thigh where he pulled her onto his lap. She subconsciously, wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back pulling him upward slightly. He held her thigh with one hand and reclined back with the metal one, smiling into her touch. She pushed forward as he pushed back, every kiss becoming more passionate than the last. She pulled at his hair, causing a longing moan to escape from his lips, exposing his neck. She began to place light kisses along side his neck, his breathing became deep as he massaged her thigh in return.  

He flipped over, now pressing her back against the ground, topping her. He kissed her back deeply, his tongue becoming well acquainted with her mouth. One hand began to find its way in between her thighs. 

Her eyes snapped open, “James.” She grabbed his hand, “It is 4 in the morning.” She hissed.

“HELL YEAH IT’S 4 IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!” Sam blurted out from the next room.

Bucky buckled forward burrowing his head in her neck holding back his horror.

“Shit,” Her face became the next 50 shades of red, as she covered her mouth with her hand to prevent a wave of uncomfortable laughter.

“HERE I THOUGHT AT 11pm I WOULD GET MY BEAUTY SLEEP BUT NOOOO. IF I HEAR THAT DAMN SHIT AGAIN I WILL COME IN THERE AND BEAT BOTH OF YALL’S NASTY ASSES.”

There was a moment of silence as the two looked between each other with mischievous smiles. He rolled his eyes and licked his lips knowingly. She let out a staged moan loud enough to be heard from outside.

“Fuck. Y/N.” Bucky grunted, his face tinted trying to remain collected. She covered her face with her hands moaning back at him.

Seeing her smile only made Bucky ham it up more as he began slapping his hand on the floor to create more of a scene to which she erupted in a fit of choked laughter. Sam yelled something from the other room about Jesus Christ and Sin. Bucky stood up with that smug look on his face, as he did whenever he won at annoying Sam Wilson. He gave her his hand and hauled her off the ground with barely any effort.

She finally settled down from laughing and looked at him, “I think we should do that more often.”

“What? Piss off bird boy or have sex?” He asked.

She grinned, “Can it not be both?”

Bucky made a face as if he was scheduling the next when and where.

She gave him a light slap, “Now don’t get cocky about it. Also, you stink. Go take a shower.”

He looked at her offended then gave a sly look, “Or we could ta-“

“No” she snapped like a mother to her child, “Get.”

He held up his hands up in defense, “Alright, Alright, but I’m going to need my shirt back.”

She groaned and peeled off the shirt and tossed it at his face. He pulled the shirt down and gave her a once over, “I like that color” he said inspecting her black laced undergarments.

“Good Lord, Go.” she shoved him towards the bathroom. He chuckled at her and whipped the shirt over his shoulder, sending her a cocky grin as he left the room.

Once the door closed behind him, she let out a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. A wave of depression washed over her as she longed for the day they could just stay in bed and not battle some end of the world threat. She looked to the blanket on the floor where he slept the night before. He deserved so much more than this. They deserved so much more than this.

She couldn’t lie, after the blip the thought of going off grid looked truly appealing. With Nat, Tony, Vision, Bruce, Wanda, Thor, and Steve gone, the Avengers felt more like a club then an actual organization. While she had always been closer to Sam, Bucky and Steve the hole left behind by the others made it too hard to go on some days. What was the point? Every time something was fixed something worse happened. And they never were thanked properly, only ridiculed by what should have been done, because everyone always expected them to be heroes; yet they never saw they were also human. The only reason she stayed was for Sam and Bucky, they had become her family, especially after Steve’s passing, who was like a father figure to her.

She pushed away the memories that came rushing in. She could not allow herself to get emotional, their job here needed her full attention. She stood and changed into her suit and left the room. 

Zemo was reclined on a sofa, drinking a cup of tea. When she entered he gave her a solemn nod. She cringed slightly, the anger at what he did to Bucky and T’Challa creeping back in.

“You’re up early.” She stated flatly.

“Hard to sleep with all the noise.” He shot her a look. “I can start you a kettle if you’d like.”

“Sorry, and no thanks, I got it.” She said. Grabbing a kettle and filling it with water.

Zemo stood, “Do you mind? I’ve read of your powers but never have I seen them.”

She shifted on her feet, “Well, sure but it won’t be a firework show or anything like that. It’s still a new thing to me and I can’t really do much.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Zemo asked, approaching her, finding a spot at the bar.

She looked at him as to say something but decided against it. She looked back to the kettle and placed her hands along the side. Zemo watched her every move; observing, analyzing. 

She took a deep breath in and reached for a part in her to attract the sensation she feels around her. The kettle began to warm and in a minute it was boiling.

“Fascinating” Zemo whispered, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

She poured the steaming hot water into a cup and placed two teabags in it. “See, nothing special.”

Zemo looked at her as if she had said something absurd. “You have a gift.” He countered.

“Feels more like a curse.” She scoffed.

“When did this begin?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’ve always had these... these abilities but it wasn’t until after the blip did I truly began to use them.”

“Fascinating.” Zemo repeated.

She pursed her lips, while she loathed everything about Zemo, she couldn’t lie having someone appreciate her abilities felt nice. She normally just felt like a freak, too afraid to show too much emotion, in fear she might lose control.

“Can I have you try something?” Zemo requested.

She scoffed, “Sorry, I don’t feel like playing lab rat today.”

Zemo made a face, “I understand your negative emotions towards me, but to say I have had failures in this field would be an incorrect accusation.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fine. What?”

He leapt off his seat, seemingly excited to play mad scientist again. He fetched a candle from the table and sat it infront of her. She cocked an eyebrow.

“Light it.” He said, gesturing to the wick.

“I- I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Light it.” He repeated, pushing the candle towards her.

She reached to touch the wick but he slapped her hand away.

“Hey!” She blurted out, glaring at him.

“Without touch.” He said calmly.

She looked at him then back to the candle, frustrated.

“Focus on what you wish for it to be, what it will look like, how it will feel.” Zemo coached.

She shifted on her feet again, finding a more comfortable stance. She focused on her breath and stared at the wick.

“Breath in, and when you breath out try to push your energy at it.” Zemo said.

She closed her eyes feeling a tingling sensation around her, she inhaled slowly, feeling the sensation grow. She opened her eyes and focused the sensation onto her target. She heard a crackle sound, as if a fire was trying to start. She looked to Zemo wide eyed, he never looked up.

“Again.” He said, staring at the wick.

She shifted and this time held out her hand. She took a deep breath and this time flicked her hand at the wick on the exhale, a flame consumed the wick and began to slowly burn. She gasped.

“Beautiful.” Zemo smiled.

“Well shit,” a voice was heard. They looked over to see Sam propped alongside a wall. “You got sparkly fingers, Y/N.”

She laughed, delighted in herself, “Did you see it?”

“I saw it.” He smiled.

She looked to Zemo, “How? How did that happen?”

Zemo held out his hand and she reluctantly lended him hers. He flipped her palm up and traced a distinct ‘M’ she never noticed before, with his finger. “You are a mutant. You were born with this gift and just now have discovered it.”

“A mutant.” She echoed. “How do you know?”

“All mutants have the symbol ‘M’ mapped on their palm. Each with a unique ability. Your friend Wanda, she is a mutant as well.”

“There’s more?” She gasped looking at Sam.

“Many more, we walk beside them each day, yet we do not know it.” Zemo said.

She looked back to Zemo, suddenly desperate for knowledge. She knew she had these powers but half the time she felt it was all coincidence, and was honestly too afraid to attempt to use them. Knowing what happened to Wanda.

“I want to know everything, please tell me what you know.” She said.

“Woah, woah. Look, the magic trick was impressive but I don’t think you should be getting your information from him, Y/N.” Sam said walking towards her.

“Sam, he’s the only one I’ve ever met, who knows about this stuff, besides Wanda and I don’t even know where she is.” She protested.

“I assure you I do not intend to mislead-“ Zemo started.

Sam pointed at him, “No. You do not get to say that after all you’ve done. The only thing you do is mislead. Hell, you’ve probably already done something to sabotage the mission.”

“You think so little of me, Sam.” Zemo pouted.

“Yeah, I do and for good reason.” Sam stated.

“Sam,” Y/N started.

“Y/N! Sam!” Bucky’s voice echoed throughout the small apartment.

The two took off in the direction of the noise immediately. They came into the room to find Bucky staring out the window.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, coming to stand beside Bucky. She looked out the window, her eyes widening in horror.

“My god.” Sam uttered.

Outside the window was a some kind of mutilated animal strung upside down. Blood dripped menacingly to the ground below. 

“What does it mean?” Sam asked.

“It’s an invitation.” A voice said. The three turned around to find Zemo.

“The Power Broker requests our presence.”

Link to Petals (pt. 2)

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 11: I'm Sorry (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.1k

The Mixtape: Thinking of you | CA, 1979

The music that pooled out of Onigiri Miya was anything but what you expected.  A small smile crept up onto your face - despite your best efforts - and with a featherlight touch, you crept into the restaurant, silently thanking the soft jazz for drowning out the creaks as you pushed the door open in search of a certain chef.

Osamu stood at the sink, hands working some leftover dishes from the work day. He hummed softly along to the music, and it surprised you just how nice  he sounded - how his deep hum complemented the honey voice that dripped through the speakers; rich, thick, and soft like velvet. You padded into the kitchen, clutching the wine and apron closer to your frame so as not to bump it on anything that could give you away, and allowed yourself a few minutes to listen and appreciate before ultimately ruining the moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Miya.” You brought a hand up to suppress a giggle as he stiffened and dropped the plate he had been washing with a loud clatter. Osamu bowed his head and cleared his throat, loud enough to drown out the music for a brief moment before it ultimately pervaded the kitchen once more. He grabbed the nearest towel to dry his hands before reaching for the remote, the music ceasing with a quick click. Once he turned around, your eyes immediately fell on the dusted pink that settled onto his cheeks, and you did your best to ignore the warmth that ignited in your chest at the sight.

"So, Etta James, huh?" Osamu coughed awkwardly, turning his attention back toward the sink to finish up the last few dishes that lingered in the basin.

"Ya know Etta James?" An affirming hum left your lips as you placed the bottle of wine and your apron on the island, eyes flitting over the rustic kitchen in search of wine glasses.

The kitchen was a decent size, the bright wooden counters and cabinets a stark contrast to the dark iron of the appliances, but it complemented each other and suited the space well. The soft ivory paint on the walls kept the overall area from being too loud compared to the rest of the restaurant, and you wondered if Kita was behind the greenery that added a lush, vibrant addition to the otherwise plain shop. Your eyes landed on a modest pile of cookbooks stored neatly in the corner, and you let out a huff of victory as you made your way over to the wine glasses that sat in a windowed cabinet above them.

"My parents were big fans, they've always had a funny fascination with America," you explained, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod. The two of you relished in the, for once, comfortable beats of silence that followed, and you were surprised when he - for a second time since you had met him - decided to be the one break it.

"My Ma used to have this busted up, old, mix tape that she would play every night when she made dinner. Got it at a flea market when she spent a semester abroad in California. She always talked about how she wished she could visit again." The fondness in his voice made your heart squeeze. You busied yourself, listening intently as you placed two wine glasses onto the counter and filled them generously. "Eventually the cassette broke from years of abuse, but I managed to find the songs and make her a playlist. She still listens to it, every night, and I guess I got so used to it that it feels almost...wrong, to cook without hearin' it in the background, even though I'm not home anymore." You slid one glass over to him and he raised a brow at it, a soft smile pointed your way.

"I think ya skimped me a bit," he joked, and you chuckled sheepishly, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck.

"What can I say, I like my wine." He chuckles as you reach for the small remote. 

"You didn't have to stop it, you know. I love me some Etta," you said, and his smile widened ever so slightly as you pressed play, the smooth voice fluttering through the speakers once more, softer this time as you adjusted the volume. You lifted the wine glass to your lips, taking a tentative first sip. The second the bittersweet liquid hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sighed into the familiarity. It flashed you back to Tokyo; the seemingly endless nights on the balcony with Tendou and Semi, your drunken laughter rivaling the music in volume as Semi sang along with fervor - but, really, does anyone sound good when they're nearly a bottle deep?

Reality slammed into you like a meteor, and you were instantly struck back into the present moment, meeting Osamu's eyes as he watched you curiously. You felt the warmth crawl up your neck from the embarrassment, and you cleared your throat in the hopes that you could divert his attention to literally anything else.

"So,  are you gonna teach me how to properly make some Onigiri tonight?" His eyes fell on the apron you brought, the one he gifted to you, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as his lips settled into a playful smirk.

"Who said anythin' about 'teach'? I said I'd show ya how I make it; I didn' say nothin' about teachin' ya."

"And miss out on learning how to make Onigiri Miya's signature dish? No way." Osamu scoffed as you grabbed your apron and began tying it around your waist. His arms folded in front of him, his lips a thin line. You couldn't tell if he was thinking or already disapproving.

"This was meant to be an apology, you know," he started, but you cut him off.

"I know! And what better apology than by helping me perfect my shaping?" The resigned sigh that followed meant a victory for you, the grin proof enough for both of you that you had won. "So, what are we making today?"

"I figured I'd keep it simple tonight. Ya like fatty tuna?" Of course you do.  Who doesn’t? "Great, let's get started then."

To be honest, you weren't expecting Osamu to be as patient with you as he was. Even though you were decently acquainted with the 'art form' that was Onigiri (as so eloquently and dramatically described by Osamu), you decided to entertain him and pretend to struggle with every step - over shredding the tuna, spilling the spices, adding too much mayo - in the minor hope that you could catch him stressed and maybe a bit frustrated - but to your somewhat disappointment, mostly pleasant surprise, every effort to get at least a furrowed brow or a groan was met with a warm smile, sometimes a breathy chuckle, and a strong pair of arms gently guiding you through the correct steps.

It was as equally frustrating as it was endearing.

"Now ya wanna dip yer hands into the dish of water I left on the side for ya, yeah, great, that's it - now grab a pinch of salt - not too much, just a pinch, and ya wanna rub it into yer hands to prep for the rice."

"What if I have a cut somewhere?"

"Do ya have a cut?"

"Well, not that I know of, but what if there's a cut I don't know about?"

"Well then I guess we'll find out soon, won' we?"

You huffed, but nonetheless pinched the tiny mountain of salt and collected a modest amount before tentatively rubbing it into your hands. Your shoulders were stiff the entire time, prepared for the sudden sting on the off chance the salt decided to acquaint itself with an unknown wound on your hand. You heard Osamu stifle a laugh, and your eyes met his as he smirked at your cautious form.

"Stop staring at me, focus on your own stupid rice ball." He laughed - loudly, beautifully - and you felt your hands tremble the slightest bit as you tried to put all of your focus on making a stupid, dumb triangle out of some stupid, dumb rice.

"Need some help?" You merely grumbled in response as the little bundle of rice and filling crumbled in your hands, despite your feeble attempts at shaping it. He set his own, perfectly shaped, onigiri aside and scooched over to you, his arms reaching around your form, chest pressed lightly against your back. "Yer pressing in too softly, so the rice isn't holding. Cup yer hands like this-" he cupped your hands within his own "-just like that. Now press a little firmer, like this." You were trying your best to pay attention to what he was showing you, you really were - but you couldn't help but marvel at how soft his hands were. You expected them to be rough; calloused from years of cooking, volleyball, and the handyman side hobby, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What kind of lotion did he use to make them feel so smooth? Probably some fancy homemade Aloe Vera lotion Kita made for him, you thought with a scoff.

This new revelation had also made you hyper aware that your hands were not, in fact, soft - countless burns, cuts, and other various acts of carelessness in the kitchen have given your hands a battle worn texture that no amount of hoity toity, all natural Aloe Vera would be able to soften up. He must have been cringing inside just having to touch the absolute burlap that is your haggard looking, stupid hands, oh god-

"Nice job, yer doin' great." The gentleness in his voice plucked you from your inner turmoil, effectively grounding you back to the task at hand. What was once a crumbling mess of rice and tuna now stood a beautifully crafted onigiri, the plump triangle nestled snuggly in between your hands. A gasp left you as you beamed at the finished product, and you whipped your head toward him, twisting slightly within his grip so you could face him properly.

It was then that you realized just how close he was to you.

Whatever words you had planned to say to him died in your throat as your brain tried to comprehend why the hell his face was so close to yours. Osamu seemed to be in a similar state of shock, eyes wide and mouth emulating a fish, opening and shutting when the words weren't coming to him. From the way your own mouth gaped, you imagined you shared a similar expression.

Simultaneously, almost comically, you separated yourselves and severed eye contact, Osamu finding something above you particularly interesting. What exactly, you weren't sure - you were too busy eyeing every minute detail of the remarkably plain tile flooring.

Like an awkward embrace from an old friend you never truly vibed with, the uncomfortable silence settled between you two once again.

It would have almost felt nostalgic, if you didn't hate it with a seething passion.

'And my arms need someone, someone to enfold'

The playful jazz number cut through the silence, and you mentally cursed Etta for clearly not reading the room - your arms were certainly not looking to enfold anybody at the moment, and you imagined it was likely that Osamu felt the same.

You spun back around toward your work station, a quick roll of your shoulders the only indication that you were gonna keep working, because you sure as shit didn't trust whatever would have come out of your mouth had you chosen to open it. Lucky for you, he seemed to get the hint and moved back toward his own work station, making quick work of shaping what he had left, while you continued to struggle, albeit far less than before.

Not a word had been uttered in the moments that followed, the music filling the awkward rift that split between you.

To be honest, you felt guilty that nearly every interaction between you two inevitably dissolved into a dense, unbearable tension; the once lighthearted mood suddenly cracked open like a fault line, the quiet settling between you like dust, and it always felt so thick that trying to bring the moment back its old, enlightened state seemed to take such an immense amount of effort - effort that neither one of you appeared to want to put forth.

You wondered if Osamu shared a similar sentiment.

While you finished up the last of your onigiri, you allowed your attention to flicker to Osamu as he eyed the leftover tuna filling with seemingly great interest, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You watched as he scooped the mess onto his finger, putting obvious effort into keeping it balanced as he brought the teetering pile to his lips. Right as he went to close his lips around his finger, the tiny mountain fell, smearing onto his chin and landing on the counter with the saddest little ‘splat’ you'd ever heard. The disappointment he exuded at his misfortune is what ultimately broke you, and you laughed - a bright, gleeful sound that dispelled the suffocating air in an instant, and made you feel like you could finally breathe again (which was ironic, considering how out of breath you were from the incessant giggles that sprung free with absolutely no regard for your lung capacity).

Your hand flew to your mouth in an (admittedly failed) attempt to stifle yourself, as well as possibly save the last shred of rapidly waning dignity Osamu was probably holding onto for dear life. You folded in on yourself, laughter bouncing off the restaurant floor and - again, probably - stabbing directly into Osamu's crumbling pride.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Osamu's loud, beautiful laugh cut through your own, and at the sight of his uncharacteristically bright smile, accompanied with the little smear of mayo on his chin, you realized that, maybe, probably, he was actually doing just fine; and that this - laughing with him - was something you'd never been given the chance to do before, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't something you wished you could do more often.

You hoped that, maybe, Osamu wanted that, too.

"So, I take it they didn't teach you how to make onigiri at your fancy schmancy culinary school?" He smiled as you bit back a groan. It was embarrassing, how ugly your onigiri looked next to his. Sure, you were joking about your incompetence in the beginning in the hopes to rile him up a little; but when it came to actually forming the balls, well - there's a reason the spite onigiri you made were small and round.

"You win this time, rice man." He boldly plucked one of your creations and plopped it onto his plate, while you opted for one of his. You knew yours were gonna have too much mayo and way too much seasoning, and you weren't about to subject yourself to that.

You took a bite out of the rice ball and audibly moaned - how is something so simple so delicious? He chuckled, lazy smile draped across his features as he watched you eat. The little sparkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, and you felt a tiny tug on your heart at how excited he was that you were enjoying his food, even if he wasn't being outwardly showy about it like you tended to be.

"'This time'? Does that mean we're doing this again?" You reached for another one of his as you hummed to yourself.

"Hmm, maybe. Maybe I'll force you to bake me some macarons." You were kidding, of course - you wouldn't wish that upon even your worst enemies - but the way his eyes brightened and he agreed with a small but noticeable lilt to his voice had you wondering if maybe making macarons wouldn't be all that bad if you made them with him.

He bit into your onigiri, taking a far more generous bite than you would have, and you snickered at the obvious attempt to conceal the grimace he had involuntarily made upon swallowing. The way he tiptoed around his critique of your failure was incredibly endearing ("It's not bad, just...mayo-y." "You don't have to eat it, you know." "No no, you worked hard, I'm gonna eat it."), and you felt the first little crack form in the walls you had begun to keep up around him ever since the curry incident.

The longer you enjoyed the food, wine, and - surprisingly - company, the harder it became to ignore the guilt that had settled onto your heart earlier in the evening. What started off as a mere twinge had become a sizeable weight in your chest, growing each moment you spent with him that didn't make you want to launch him off the summit of Mount Fuji.

"I'm sorry," you said, quiet and out of the blue. He shot you a confused smile.

"Pretty sure that's my job right now," he pointed out, and you offered a meek chuckle in response.

"I shouldn't have sold the dessert onigiri. Seeing just how passionate you are makes me realize the gravity of what I did. My ego was a little bruised and instead of being an adult about it, I openly insulted you and Kita by making a mockery of your business. I took it too far, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure it goes without saying, but I'm gonna stop making them so you don't have to worry anymore." He was quiet, staring at you in a way he hadn't before, and it made you feel far too exposed, playing with the rice crumbled on your plate as you waited for a reaction.

"I'm sorry, too. I only said those things because the idea of you expanding yer menu terrified me. Yer an amazin' chef, and I honestly think ya could run me out of business one day." His voice was soft, too; and you felt the crack grow considerably wider, your vulnerability peeking through pinched brows and hands that you couldn't seem to keep still. "I've always wanted to open up a location in Tokyo, and expand the menu. Onigiri made sense because it's always been a source of comfort, but as much as I love makin' em, there're others things I wanna make, too."

The air between you was...light. The weight that usually settled itself into your shoulder blades seemed to have dissipated, and you couldn't tell if it was the wine, the time, or Osamu. Maybe it was all three.

"I...I like it better when we don't hate each other," you said.

"I never hated you," he said.

"I never hated you either," you admitted.

"Does that mean we can stop pretending we do?" He looked you, and you saw hope.

You smiled.

"Yeah," you said. "We can."

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun facts -

Osamu listening to old 60′s love songs just did something to me ok, especially my girl Etta

Kita is 100% responsible for the plants 

Osamu’s mom kept the tape, even after it finally broke beyond repair. It reminds her of Osamu’s father, who she met that summer in Cali

he was another exchange student from Japan. They had a summer fling and inevitably said their goodbyes when the summer was over and he had to fly back home.

They ended up bumping into each other a year after she moved back - and fate has been a big theme for the Miya’s ever since. 

Osamu has always felt a little funny about it - it feels too convenient, and he doesn’t like the idea of not being in control of his own path.

He thought your ugly rice balls were disgusting, obviously, and he was sure to eat his own after the first one lmao

A/n - when you haven’t updated in so long you have to look at past chapters to remember how you formatted 😭. BUT ITS FINALLY DONEEEE, this chapter KICKED my ass oh my god but it feels so good to be finished and we’re finally moving into new territory~ I’m very excited for the next few chapters!! I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter, please don’t be afraid to shoot me messages if you have questions!! I have a LOT of behind the scenes content that doesn’t make it into the fic sometimes and I’m always eager to share 🤩✨💛

Taglist (bolded cannot be tagged!)-

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude​ @doctorspencereid​ @keiarma​ @cherriechurros​ @halesandy​ @k3nma-fairy​ @jewlmin​ @tabipleats​ @kaleidoscopekai​ @confusedturtle​ @vintagexparker​ @hoeevern @syaziahvg​ @hallothankmas​ @lilith412426​ @aurorahoneybuns​ @oikawakuns​ @reina-de-tay​ @prettyinblack231​ @snowyseungs​ @darlingkuroo​ @chloji​ @1sillylittlething​ 

[deja-you]

times new roman | episode eight

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige. 

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | previous | next

“You’ve kissed me twice now.”

It was a plain, straight-forward statement. There was no expectation or insinuation behind his words, merely a fact. Even though Thomas held no malevolence, Y/n couldn’t help but be defensive. 

“Well, you kissed me back.”

“I’m not going to apologize for that.”

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him. “Then I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

Thomas sighed and shrugged his jacket over his shoulders. “Look, angel, all I’m saying is that you can’t keep kissing me and then pretending like I don’t exist. Either you need to stop kissing me or we need to talk this out.” 

“Talk this out?”

“Yeah. We could go get lunch and talk about it.”

“Sounds kind of like a date.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this you saying no?”

She weighed her options and shrugged. “It’s not.”

“Are you...” Thomas was doing his best not to get his hopes up. “Are you saying yes?”

“Yes, Thomas.”

A full-on smile spread across his face at this. He bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Great! I know this fantastic pla-- damn.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I completely forgot,” Thomas sucked his bottom lip under his teeth, his brows furrowing in frustration, “I promised my second cousin I’d meet with him to discuss a case.”

“It’s okay, I understand. We can just have this conversation over text,” she suggested. 

He fervently shook his head. “No, no. I want to take you out on a proper date. I want to do this right.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she laughed, “since when have you cared, anyway?”

“Since it’s been you.” Thomas’s eyes softened.

“Oh.”

Y/n stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. Thomas really cared about her, didn’t he? She should’ve noticed a long time ago that he was more than just the flirtatious, big-shot lawyer who had responded to her tweet weeks ago. Maybe Y/n would’ve noticed if she hadn’t been so focused on falling in love with him, a task that she was currently failing. 

Thomas checked his watch and grimaced. “Okay, how about this. I’ll run down to meet with John, and then when I get back I’ll take you out to lunch. It will take 45 minutes, an hour tops.”

“Okay.” When he looked at her with those pleading eyes, there was no way Y/n could’ve said no. 

“You’re welcome to use anything in the apartment. The shower, the coffee machine, whatever you need,” he smiled softly, grabbing his briefcase and heading to the door. Before Thomas could close the door behind him, he paused. 

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave, angel.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Thomas offered her one last smile before leaving his apartment and sprinting down the hallway to minimize the amount of time he would be gone. When he was gone, Y/n finally had a moment to think. That’s when she remembered what she was wearing. 

“Shit,” she muttered. She couldn’t exactly wear an oversized t-shirt and underwear to lunch, and Y/n wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of wearing an evening gown, either. Finding her phone on the bedside table, she quickly began to craft a message to Peggy. 

“I don’t like him. I’ve just kissed him a few times and now I’m going on a date with him,” Y/n said fifteen minutes later when Peggy showed up with a change of clothes. 

“You’re in denial.”

“No, I’m in the Upper East Side, currently. Why would I be in a river in Egypt?”

“DENIAL. Not the nile. You know exactly what I meant, don’t play dumb with me.” Peggy crossed her arms, and took a moment to appreciate the dark wood in Thomas’s kitchen. “Now I knew Jefferson was rich, but I didn’t know he was this rich.”

Y/n shrugged. “He comes from old money, and then he has the money he makes as a corporate lawyer on top of that.”

“Is he like, your sugar daddy, then?” Peggy raised an eyebrow. 

“I swear,” Y/n grumbled under her breath. “We both know I don’t need a sugar daddy.”

Peggy shrugged. “You could do a lot worse than Jefferson. That man is fine. I still don’t believe that nothing happened between you two last night.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to have to do to convince you that nothing happened,” Y/n sighed. “I promise you nothing happened.”

“Are you... are you disappointed?” Peggy asked.

“Stop projecting your thoughts onto me,” Y/n snapped, but a part of her had to wonder if she actually was disappointed. She shook her head. “Okay, enough from you. You need to go before Thomas gets back. I’ll catch you up on everything later.”

“You’re calling him Thomas now? I’m sure he’d prefer da--”

“Get out,” Y/n hissed, shoving her friend out the door.

Y/n was in a rush to get dressed and ready before Thomas got back. She finished getting ready in record time, and then found that she was left with nothing to do. After absent-mindedly scrolling through her phone for a few minutes, Y/n grew bored and decided to go on a self-guided tour of Thomas Jefferson’s apartment. 

The first stop was the bathroom. Immaculately clean counter, a large mirror with lights behind it, and a fucking rain shower. Who even owned a rain shower in New York City? Still, Y/n was wishing she had taken Thomas up on that previous offer to use his shower. How good would that rain shower feel? And if she was imagining Thomas’s hands on her in the shower, nobody would have to know. 

After briefly fixing up her appearance in the mirror, Y/n ventured into the kitchen which was connected to a living room with a grand piano, shelves full of books, and an incredible view of New York. Thomas owned nearly every classic book, from To Kill a Mockingbird to A Tale of Two Cities. There were stacks of books on the coffee table because there wasn’t enough room on one of his many shelves, and Y/n was reminded that she had seen even more books in his work office.

“Someone get this man a Kindle,” she muttered to herself as she weaved her way.

Y/n tensed when she heard keys in the door and the handle begin to jiggle. Logically, it would make sense that it was just Thomas returning. But this was still New York City. Y/n grabbed a larger book off the table, something by Tolstoy, and raised it up just in case an intruder walked through the door. 

Finally, the door swung open, and Thomas entered his apartment. He froze when he saw Y/n staring at him, book raised in the air in preparation for attack. Thomas blinked a few times and adjusted his glasses -- he hadn’t been wearing them this morning, had he? How did he look so good in them?

“Angel, were you about to assault me with my own library?” He asked curiously. 

Y/n cringed inwardly and lowered the book. “I just wanted to be prepared in case it wasn’t you and someone was breaking in.”

Thomas laughed and shook his head. “What was your plan exactly? To subdue your attacker with tales from Napoleonic era Russia?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t really thought that through. Maybe I’d throw it at them and make my escape,” she shrugged.

He set down his briefcase on the kitchen counter and made his way over to Y/n. Thomas stopped when they were standing nearly chest to chest and leaned forward to take the book out of her hand, his grin never faltering. 

“I’d ‘preciate it if you didn’t throw my books, angel. This is a collector’s edition.” Thomas placed the book safely back on the coffee table. “So how about that lunch?”

Y/n allowed a small smile. “Yes. Lunch. I’m starving.”

“Great! Well, not great that you’re starving-- I just mean, well. I want to take you to this place I know that has the best French cuisine in America.” His eyes lit up the way they always did when he started talking about something he was passionate about. The same way they lit up when he looked at her. “The head chef and I go way back.”

Y/n wouldn’t outwardly show how happy it made her to see Thomas this excited, but she felt all warm and cozy on the inside. Together, Thomas and Y/n left his apartment and they began walking a few blocks down to the restaurant that Thomas was so excited about.

As they walked, Thomas hummed softly, an ever-present grin on his face. Y/n felt herself staring at him while they walked, and quickly looked away when she saw him glance at her. She bit her lip gently, still trying to comprehend that she was actually going on a date with Thomas Jefferson. She must have been thinking hard, because eventually Y/n realized neither of them had spoken in a while.

“So how was coffee with your cousin?” She asked nervously, trying to fill the silence. 

“Not my cousin,” Thomas reminded her, “my second cousin.”

“And that matters because?” Y/n raised an eyebrow at Thomas’s defensiveness.

“Because he’s just so... liberal.” Thomas glanced at her and gave a sheepish smile. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken?” 

“Just can’t stand ‘im sometimes,” he shrugged. “Gets on my nerves.”

“Then why did you ditch me to get coffee with him?” She shoved her hands in her pockets and absently focused on matching her stride with Thomas’s.

“He’s family, I’d hear it from Ma if I didn’t treat him with that Southern hospitality. My second cousin, John Marshall’s just starting off in law and my aunt thought I could give him some tips,” he said. Thomas glanced at Y/n, “sorry, angel, am I boring you with this?”

“No, no,” Y/n insisted. “I’m fascinated. Is he working on an interesting case?”

Thomas grinned. “Actually, yeah. He’s working on this criminal case where a defendant had been coerced into a confession. Somehow John’s roped me into being his co-counsel.”

Y/n’s eyebrows shot up into her hair line. “You’re working on a criminal justice case?”

He glanced at you, his grin widening at the look on your face. “I know you like to think I’m just a corporate sellout, but I do my fair share of pro bono cases.”

“Didn’t realize you had any expertise in that area of law,” she said with a shrug.

“First job out of law school, I spent some time working at the D.A.’s office. Got a lot of experience around prosecutors and defense attorneys. Thought I’d go into criminal law for a while,” he mused.

Y/n studied his features carefully. “What made you change your mind?”

“Well, angel, when the George Washington comes knocking on your door and specifically asks for you, you don’t turn him down,” Thomas laughed.

“Ah, I see. Do you ever wish you hadn’t switched to corporate law?” She asked.

They had arrived at the restaurant Thomas had picked out, and they paused on the sidewalk as he considered the question.

“Sometimes I think about it,” he admitted. Thomas looked over at Y/n, smiled, and pulled the door open for her. “But I think I made the right decision.”

tags:

@dovesgrangers @lovelymrvl  @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc  @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom @lilbabyhoneypot @lunariasilver @justcallmemama @atleastidontdotiktoks @mistrose23 @checkurwindow @fluffydmonkey @pettyjayy @rosesinmars @cubedtriangle @itsjube @zeelmol @ems-alexandra @yavin4andor @daveeds-whore @someinsanefangirl @theatrenerd86 @poetnstuff @ohsoverykeri-blog @im-sidney @omgyouburtmyeggos @astralaffairs @nyxie75 @mydearestlaurens @janessawonderwall @the-middle-oldest-child @emtinuviel

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[missorgana]

everything i do (gonna think of you)

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy

rating: teen and up

word count: 4690

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Finn and Poe are on a break. Neither of them are okay. But Finn hears Poe singing about him on the radio, and they'll be okay. Always. (musician poe, artist finn, long distance break-up + getting back together)

(it’s been ages but my space bfs, it’s good to be back!! a long overdue installment in my finnpoe alphabet series. did not expect e to be the most difficult letter to work with !!! thank you to Cat / @wendigostag​ as ALWAYS for beta reading and supporting my messy ideas 🥰 love uuuu. enjoy??)

read on ao3

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I’m sure!”

The audience erupts in a half-laughter, half-cheer, and the host smiles, looking a bit too tired for his age.

“Tonight’s special performance is by someone who has, quite frankly, taken the whole of America - and dare I say the world? - by storm!”

Previous cheers resurface, louder and more certain than before. Even a few wolf whistles, making the presenter laugh as well.

“Here to perform his new single ‘cardigan’ from the debut album ‘folklore’, Poe Dameron!”

Quite literally everyone in the studio goes crazy, and as the camera directs towards the stage, a light turns on and reveals the curly haired man in all his glory.

He smiles slyly to the audience. A few noises, bordering on the line of screaming, makes him chuckle, but he puts all his focus on the guitar. Snaps, strums, and as the piano starts accompanying him, a soft voice forming strange and unfamiliar words.

Finn wipes the tear away in frustration before it even gets a chance to move, just tiny droplets stinging his vision. He’s sniffling, and biting his cheek, staring at the already half-empty bottle of red wine on the table.

Never in his life has he ever felt more pathetic, that’s true.

He doesn’t know why he’s watching this. And judging by the two texts pinging in on his phone, his best friend Rey somehow knows he’s doing it, too.

His vision’s too blurry to type, he thinks. Fuck it, pour another glass of wine. Who cares?

On the screen, Poe smiles while singing each word. But Finn knows the man better than anyone in that studio to know that it’s not really a smile. It’s the kind that his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend put on at their last FaceTime call. The one where he suggested they took a break.

He figures he should turn off the television when the performance comes to an end. No need to rub anymore salt in the wound, as Rey said.

Yet Finn sticks around for the interview because… because what? He hates himself? He hates Poe?

Neither. Maybe he misses him. Of course he misses him, enough to fight back the sobs, far from sober. But he’ll fight that obvious realisation, as well.

“Thank you for coming in tonight!” the host tells the singer, who thanks him in turn for the opportunity. Always the golden boy. The image of polite, kind, heart full of love, yet so goddamn stubborn.

“Mothers love me.” Poe had told him, back in college, the smug idiot. Finn’s mother loves him.

It’s mostly questions about the album, the upcoming tour, pictures of his parents and his pearly whites gleam when he speaks of them, how proud they are of him. It envelops Finn like a warm embrace. Huh. They haven’t hugged in five months.

They haven’t seen each other in five months.

Then the host starts grinning like a maniac, and he’s got a hunch what’s coming now is what he’s been wanting to ask all along, “Evidently, you got a lot of ladies who love you here.”

Audience cheers. Poe runs a hand through his hair. He’s so nervous, it’s adorable.

“You got a special lady in your life?” a question that quiets the audience significantly, still, waiting.

The singer glances at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the universe. Finn can’t hold his glass still, because, yeah. He looks like he’s thinking about it too hard. He wants to save him from that situation.

And although it feels like a million years pass, it’s probably only ten seconds before the reply settles, “Not at the moment, no.”

The crowd is nothing less than thrilled. And not only women, as the host implied, nah, everyone in that studio recognizes what a heartthrob Poe Dameron is. Finn couldn’t agree more.

What he knows about his ex-boyfriend that the strangers in the TV don’t know is, obviously, that Poe’s not interested in the ladies.

So does his family and close friends, anyone out of show business, really.

He also knows why his ex-boyfriend isn’t out to the public about his sexuality, yet. Or he’s got an idea. Maybe. Finn convinces himself of that, because then, he can also convince himself that he’s not the only one still feeling he’s being torn to pieces by this breakup. Feels better.

*

Although the screen connecting to his boyfriend’s call tugs on his heartstrings with its familiar warmth, Finn is, above all, pissed.

And for some reason, he feels ashamed for that. He knows he shouldn’t.

Poe hasn’t been home in a month. He was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but due to press bookings, credit to his boyfriend’s brand new agent, he called Finn late at night apologising like a broken record and promising to make it up to him.

And it makes him feel like shit.

Every apology made him feel more guilty for… harboring his time. Which is crazy, because they’ve been going steady for three years. They talked about this, the possibility of long distance, and knew, definitely, that it was gonna be hard, especially since they’ve been attached by the hip for so long.

Thing is, this has happened three times now, and it’s made Finn question himself.

Is he good enough for Poe? then later, another thought creeps in, Is Poe tired of him? or… is he not in love with him anymore?

Finn feels like he’s going crazy.

And even when he sees his boyfriend’s soft curls and eyes full of sunshine pop on his phone, it’s those thoughts that still inhabit his head. Fuck.

“Baby!” Poe says, excitement gleaming right through him and into Finn’s bedroom. They’ve been talking about moving in together, but, well, with long distance, mostly only talk for now. He’s off chasing the fame, which he deserves more than anyone, thank you very much, and Finn’s already booked up with art galleries and auctions eagerly grasping for his paintings. It feels like they’ve made it.

Except, “Phasma’s got me on Jimmy Kimmel! Like, can you believe that?!” his boyfriend spills out everything from this week, and it warms Finn’s chest, his gut, all the way down to his toes. But at the same time, this being Poe’s first words to him stirs weirdly alongside that warmth.

His career’s important. Of course. Finn’s happy for him, like, over the moon, all the way across the solar system happy.

He wants him to be successful. So then… then why does it feel like Poe prioritises it over them? It’s probably him overthinking it, he reasons. Again.

Finn can definitely feel he’s supposed to be sleeping right now; that’s another thing, cursed with being in vastly different time zones. He listens, smiling half-tiredly, thoughts wandering to everything and nothing.

Which is why he finds himself, all of a sudden, replying to his boyfriend’s, “I, uh, I’m actually writing you another song. Don’t laugh, please,” with, “A secret kind of song? ”

It takes Poe by surprise, visibly, and it takes himself, as well.

Finn bites down on his tongue in the cringe of it all. His boyfriend’s blinking, slowly, probably waiting for some sort of elaboration, but when he has no idea what to say, Poe inquires, “What do you mean?”

He sighs. Wholeheartedly, wistfully, nostalgic.

Finn thinks about when Poe asked him out, driving up to his window in true cheesy romantic comedy style and having offered to write essays in exchange for a school marching band performance.

Their first date, eating cotton candy and the curly haired boy insisting on trying and failing to win Finn a prize, until finally facing defeat. He won Poe a prize instead, first try, so the previous grumpiness faded in a matter of seconds. The butterflies threatened to burst his stomach the entire day.

Their first time, clumsy and awkward, teeth clanging in kisses and stupid buttons in Finn’s shirt being stuck and they laughed until they were out of breath. It was more perfect than anything either of them could’ve imagined.

He thinks about this, because neither of them were out before they got together.

This coming out thing? It scared the shit out of Finn. He was so lucky to have a supportive family, supportive friends. The school was a mixed experience, but he and Poe were in it together. His boyfriend tried to play it cool, but he knew how scared he was, too. He knows like the back of his hand, almost.

And this concern, it makes him feel so guilty he might vomit.

“I just… I was just wondering if you wanted to be official.”

“We are official, Finn.”

“No, I-I mean, public.”

He gulps around the growing lump in his throat. Poe goes scarily quiet.

This is also something they’ve talked about before. Fame is so new, it’s a whole new leap, learning how to handle all this, so it didn’t bother either of them to be secretive about their relationship, so to speak.

Their close network still knew, obviously, but the music industry, Hollywood, that’s way, way different than Finn’s newly established and growing network of artist connections and colleagues.

It wasn’t a problem. Until it was.

Coming out is personal. But ever since his boyfriend said he wanted to go public, then didn’t, as they were both on edge, then decided they should move in together and go public to slam down journalists linking Poe to a member of a girl group he met last summer, then didn’t.

It’s happened a couple of times. And finally, it seems, Finn is coming to terms with being tired of being ready and then backing out.

He’s terrified. Terrified of Poe being embarrassed of him, which he knows sounds crazy, also. But fuck.

“Baby, we’re gonna do it,” his boyfriend reassures him, but he’s distraught now, “You know we are. My agent just talks about my image, you know, I need to make sure-”

“Your image?”

That… that pisses Finn off. Conclusively. Because what the fuck?

“Phasma thinks we should do it at Christmas, season of love, you know?” Poe smiles shyly, he always loved the holidays. And he just doesn’t know how to react. “She’s fine with it, like, she didn’t ask me to fake being straight, like the guy I talked with before. Just-

“Are you embarrassed of me, Poe?” he finds the words slipping out before he can stop his mouth.

His boyfriend’s eyes widen significantly on the small screen, opens and closes his mouth several times, and there’s definitely a yell from somewhere in the studio, but Poe ignores it completely, “Of course not. Finn, I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of you. I just really… really think we need to time this right.”

“I,” Finn starts, but he’s barely sure where he’s going with the sentence. All he knows is that he’s scared Poe might tell him that all this time meant nothing to him. He doesn’t know why he leaps to that, but he does. His boyfriend might find something better than him in the limelight, “I know. You’ve told me, and I get it, I do. It’s just difficult being so far away from you, and then…”

He feels himself drifting off into a cloud of numbness and nothing, but Poe interrupts the sentence, “I thought you’d be more supportive of my career.” Finn nearly jumps. The words don’t sound cold, per say. But it’s weird. The good old butterflies flutter hesitantly, sort of in question.

“I am, darling, I-” he sighs again, “I’ve always been. You’ve just seemed like you’re ready, and I got the feeling that your agent didn’t want you to, and-” “Phasma wants it.”

“But on Christmas, Poe. This Christmas. I’m just scared you’re…” Finn shakes his head at himself, decides to be completely honest, because that’s how relationships work. Right? “Waiting for the moment to end this.”

“End this?” his boyfriend’s voice raises just an octave, looking perpetually confused. He also, admittedly, looks pissed. Hurt. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“No! Why would I-

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

Finn rubs his eyes, feels like they’re on goddamn fire. Poe’s biting his lips, rummaging around after moving what he assumes is a more private room than before, and avoiding eye contact. They shouldn’t be doing this on the phone. They shouldn’t be doing this at all.

He wishes his boyfriend was next to him, so he could curl up on his chest and sleep the entire weekend. It’s all he wants.

Ultimately, Finn makes the suggestion, “Baby, I’m sorry, I just… why don’t I call you next time you’re free? Or can you… are you getting back anytime soon?”

He doesn’t know how to describe this feeling, what’s happening, in any other way than it seems like Poe’s on a different planet than him, drifting in a meteor rain.

What Finn doesn’t expect least of all is his boyfriend’s answer, “Nah, you know, if you feel like that, we should take a break. A breather.”

And Poe smiles, but he sees through that bullshit. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

He’s trying to play it cool. Fuck. Why are Finn’s eyes stinging, now?

“A break?”

“Yeah.”

That’s so much to process. Fucking process it. The protests are bubbling under his skin, boiling and ice cold at the same time, but he doesn’t get the time when the yells on the end of the world resume.

“I really should go.” Poe tells him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.

“Poe…” he tries to breathe around the butterflies currently panicking inside of him. He’d scream at them to stop for just five seconds, if he could. His boyfriend’s already getting up from the seat, which is why Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to look at him, “Okay. Okay.”

The silence that settles between them, then, until they end the call in confusion and boiled up emotion, is far from the comfort they’ve been accustomed to. It ends without a goodbye. Without an I love you.

So, naturally, he gets absolutely zero sleep that night.

*

Whenever Rey told them they were being overdramatic, she was probably right. This is no exception.

Ever since the damnation of their FaceTime call, Finn tried to get into his head what went down. Namely, him and his boyfriend speaking over each other’s heads. It settles in the morning, the realisation that Poe assumed the worst of what he said, while he himself didn’t understand why he couldn’t come home . Just one day. Just to talk this out.

But in a recognizable stubborn fashion, his boyfriend ignored his calls and texts for the weekend. Finn tried so, so hard not to get pissed again. But also, Poe actively avoiding him made him want to cry. Not being able to just hear his voice made him want to cry.

Naturally, the following week, when his boyfriend decided to reach out, Finn became the one to ignore all forms of contact. It felt like they were walking in circles.

This is new and raw territory.

Finn and Poe don’t fight. It’s a basic law of the universe. 

Which is why he doesn’t blame Rey for widening her eyes in shock at this new development. He also knows that she wants to intervene, badly so, given how protective she is of them, but because she’s lovely she always somehow knows when Finn needs his own space to think. Or scream into the void a little bit, whatever does the trick.

He’s pretty sure she didn’t expect this to go on for four months, now. He sure as hell didn’t expect it.

But… they’re both to blame. Finn’s pretty much dug himself a hole in the ground filling up with all his feelings, and as every week passes by, waits for his boyfriend to make the first move. He expects Poe to do the same. Nothing’s moving forward.

So, if Rey didn’t know him as she did, she’d ask him why.

Why don’t you just call him? He could. When his boyfriend stopped ignoring him, that is. Thing is, Finn’s world is sort of crumbling right now, and a confrontation with that isn’t something he can handle, he thinks.

It’s the thought of losing Poe for good. It’s the thought of Poe thinking Finn doesn’t want him anymore, when in fact he fears the exact opposite.

After watching that interview, though, he could breathe a little easier, he’ll admit.

And it’s weird. He felt inherently about a hundred times worse during it. The day after, he just kept thinking about Poe and his stupid curls and his nervous smile and what he might be doing while Finn was helping his sister with the dishes.

Maybe it’s knowing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend (?) is okay. Does look more okay than himself.

It calms him. The next day, it makes Finn want to burn up all their polaroids and mail the ashes to the singers’ hotel in a massive envelope. As said before, this hole is deep, too deep, making it difficult to be rational.

A week after the interview, he’s just about on the edge to complete numbness.

Maybe he’s been reading those hilarious dumb gossip magazines whenever his boyfriend was on the cover. Shut up. If he acknowledges the ridiculousness of that, it’ll only make it worse.

Finn feels weak for being this torn up after a breakup… or break. He’s had breakups before Poe, but none of them hurt like this. Does it ever just fucking stop?

Apparently not, because when he picks up the phone with Rey’s name flashing, Finn expects it to be another question of what’s going on. How he’s doing, or not even a question, but an order to let her in as she’s probably already standing in front of his building carrying ice cream and bad horror movies.

He doesn’t get why she doesn’t just use the key he got her already, but it’s still endearing. Except, “Turn on the radio.”

“What?

“Finn, turn on your radio. Trust me.”

And so he scrambles around, the determination in her voice definitely not something to mess around with. Finn eventually uncovers it underneath the mountain of Poe’s vinyl records, and while his best friend doesn’t even tell him what station she’s referring to, he’s got a feeling about it. Also, it’s the first station that pops through the speakers when he turns it on, so.

Then, he has absolutely no idea what to listen for. The hosts are making some jokes about the song they’re gonna play next, thereozing about a “lost love” , and Finn’s about to ask until he realises Rey’s hung up on him, and a text.

just wait. u won’t regret it.

It’s too ominous for his best friend’s usual shenanigans. He’s a little worried.

But unlike the last hellish, unbelievable four months, Finn doesn’t have much time to worry, before the voices announce, “We present an exclusive live performance from our new favorite heartthrob, Poe Dameron!”

Oh God. Oh God, oh shit, oh my god.

Naturally, Finn’s anxiety kicks in like a punch in his gut.

In fact, he’s about to pull up his best friend’s contact again, sick of hearing the single that Poe wrote for him and not even being able to revel in the feeling anymore. Only it’s not ‘cardigan’.

Four months ago, a few days before they decided to take a break, his boyfriend sent him a couple of voice notes, containing lyrics and guitar pieces and other bits for the album he wanted Finn’s approval on. He always wanted his opinion first. It makes him all warm again.

This song, however, is brand new, unheard to everyone’s ears. Including Finn.

  “I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit

Been saying "yes" instead of "no"

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinée

You know the greatest films of all time were never made”

  The melody has the same calm like the other songs he’s heard, an image of fairytales and bare feet dancing in the woods and stars twinkling in the night.

The melancholy is unfamiliar, though.

  “I guess you never know, never know

And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

And it's alright now”

  Finn’s thumb hovers over Rey’s contact name, but he can’t bring himself to move.

It’s the alright part. Except, despite how much he tries to lie to himself, he swears to everything god that his boyfriend’s voice breaks over the word. It’s subtle enough that the interviewers could pass it on as him being hoarse, he reasons, but Poe can’t fool him.

He wants him to be okay. Actually, no, because being okay means not missing Finn like Finn misses him, and that would hurt more than anything he can imagine. But also, he’s too far away for a reassuring hand. That’s why he wants him to be okay.

  “But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you”

  For some reason, it’s only then it settles into Finn’s mind.

Oh.

Oh.

The song keeps going, and his emotions keep going, from the chaotic jumbled mess he’s become accustomed to a quiet buzz. He feels like his breathing’s slowed down, and a pocket in his heart is being emptied onto the floor.

Poe feels exactly the same way, he imagines. He has to.

Finn’s abandoned his phone somewhere unknown between the couch cushions, and he’s stuck staring at the empty wine bottle he hasn’t had the energy to get rid of, his microwave dinner half eaten, until his ex-boyfriend’s song comes to an end.

‘the 1’ is the title. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or not, which sounds a bit dumb in his own head.

“Poe Dameron!” one of the interviewers yells obnoxiously, clearly trying to hold in their excited giggling, “Those were quite emotional lyrics. I’m guessing there’s a story there somewhere?”

Finn could roll his eyes into the next century at that comment. Jesus Christ.

The singer’s complained about these kinds of people before, of course, he chuckles, politely, hesitantly, probably spinning the best way to avoid opening that door of vulnerability on open air, “I think everyone writes from their own experience, really.”

His voice has the same elegance and softness and gruff that makes Finn think of home, despite the tinny speakers and distraction that vibes off of him, all the way over in the states. It’s unbelievable.

The interview keeps going in the most standard way possible, a couple more questions Poe subtly circles around (including about dating, obviously), some jokes, and they eventually get to that segment where the listeners can call in and ask their own question to the dreamy man.

Some are boring, some are weird, some are intrusive, some are just teen voices in awe of his relatability and what not, mountains of flattery which his boyfriend is all too shy and starstruck to handle.

Finn bites his lip.

They repeat the number of the radio twice. The programme ends at nine. That means about forty five minutes of fan questions.

He shouldn’t. This is ridiculous. But what if… what?

Poe’s voice somehow carries his hand to fish the phone up again, though, like a strike of magic. And then the tone sounds, one, two, three, and it’s too late to take it back now. Shit.

“You’re live! Can our next lucky listener introduce yourself and your question?”

He tries so hard, desperately so, to swallow around the lump in his throat, seeming impossibly massive. The eerie silence is simply too painful to bear, though, so Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard for two seconds, before forcing the reply out.

“Yes, uh, hi. This is Finn Solo. From Pennsylvania.”

A beat. “Pennsylvania?! Well, honey, that’s actually Poe Dameron’s home state, isn’t it?”

Two beats. The singer clears his throat. “Yeah.” Clearly, he recognizes his voice in an instant. Well, obviously, he’d be shocked if he didn’t. Still, Finn feels like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He wonders if Rey’s listening, right now.

The interviewer seems unfazed from Poe’s hesitated answer, or they just choose to ignore it, he supposes. “The floor is yours, Finn. Ask ahead!”

So… how is he supposed to do this, again? 

This is the worst idea Finn’s had in his entire life. Seriously. And he accepted Rey’s dare to swing all the way up and around the swingset in fifth grade, he’s well aware of what reckless looks like. This is it.

Still, he’s stuck now. Poe’s listening to him. Kind of forced to.

And against his own better judgement, Finn silences the million overthinking thoughts in his inner ear by simply saying whatever hits him first, “Did you mean what you said? In the song?”

Seconds feel like fucking hours right now.

“Sorry, can you-” one of the hosts start, but he feels moved to continue. “When did you write it?”

It’s low, the feedback of his boyfriend’s microphone can just be made out. He prays that was only comprehensible enough for Poe’s own ears, because Finn could never possibly live with himself if he outed the person he loves most in the world. Seems so, given the interviewer once again asks the singer in confusion.

“What do you say, Poe? Do you need, uh… for him to elaborate?”

“No.” the man says simply, shyness seemingly having faded away in a glimpse. “Finn, I wrote this back in May.”

Four months ago. Same month as their FaceTime call.

“Only a week after our call. Took me five hours. I needed to get every word just right.” Poe says those words so steadily it shocks Finn. His hand feels numb and itchy around the tiny device, and one of the hosts gasps.

“I-” he starts, but has no idea where to go, where to turn. Finn didn’t expect any of this tonight. A deep breath is needed, “Do you mean… you wrote it about me?”

He feels like an absolute idiot for asking, even doubting it, but given the emotional rollercoaster he’s been through up until now, he’s grasping for straws of confirmation. Poe chuckles, barely audible.

“All my songs are about you, darling.”

What the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Another gasp is heard in the studio, a little louder this time, but he sends a silent thanks, still, to them being too taken aback to intervene.

Okay, these are definitely tears in Finn’s eyes, now.

One rolls down, cool against his hot cheek, and he almost wants to laugh widely, processing what’s happening over and over in his brain.

What’s mostly replaying is the nickname that he’s missed… too much.

If they were in the same room, in front of each other, alone , he could say and ask a million things. This conversation is impossibly too vulnerable for open air, but Finn really thinks, really, that this step was needed. At least, it’s something he’s been longing to hear.

Instead of breaking down in the happiness and sadness he’s feeling, instead of talking about the miscommunication they’ve been the victim of, he smiles. Can’t stop. It’s hurting his whole face, actually, but his chest feels endlessly lighter.

“If… uh,” Finn chuckles at himself again, him and his stupid emotions, probably laced obviously in his voice, “Is there a chance that you still want to write songs about me?”

Poe laughs back, warmer and wobblier than before. “Of course. Of-fucking-course. There’s no one else I’d rather write about.”

Those hosts over there are probably freaking out big time, but Finn can’t bring himself to care much.

They sigh rather in unison. Him and his boyfriend. Breathing shaky and yet steadying themselves, almost. Together.

“Okay. Okay. Thank fuck,” he finds himself sniffling, “Okay.”

“They’ll always be about you.”

[trashmancer]

Again, been reading a lot recently, and here's some recent reads and my thoughts. (All very spoiler-free)

Johannes Cabal: The Necromancer by Jonathan L. Howard

I'd heard about this series for a while, but had always kept putting off reading it, and finally I was in the mood for some comedic (yet dark) shenanigans--and a villain protagonist as charming as Johannes Cabal really hit me just right. I really enjoyed the first of this series and the introduction to this 1920's-ish universe similar-yet-different to our own that Howard's created. His writing is crisp and clever--and Johannes is a villain protagonist worth cheering for. He's duplicitous, arrogant, and cold, yet sharp-witted and competent enough to be engaging, and even though he's amoral (driven predominately with an "ends do justify the means" mentality) there are glimmers of a conscious buried in there.

The basic gist of the first book is that Johannes Cabal is a necromancer dead-set (ba-dum-sh) on thwarting the biggest plague affecting mankind: Death. As such, he's willing to go to extreme lengths to hone and perfect his necromantic abilities. In the pursuit of this knowledge, Cabal sold his soul to Satan, but he comes to realize he actually needs his soul for his necromancy to work more properly (apparently without a soul it gets very unpredictable). In order to win his soul back, he strikes a wager with Satan: he will accumulate 100 souls for Satan in return for his own. Satan, ever the fair player (not), gifts Cabal with an infernal carnival to help Cabal reach his goal within the year. Shenanigans ensue.

While I read some books in-between this one and the next in the series, I'll write about the other here--

Johannes Cabal: The Detective by Jonathan L. Howard

So clearly I enjoyed the first installment enough to keep going, and I am glad, because I enjoyed the second one even more than the first. It feels like Howard got more comfortable with the characters and world than before, and in this one he expands his universe with some made-up countries that are similar-to-yet-different than countries on our Earth. In this one, Cabal does less fantastic tricks, as he dons the role of investigator (there's been a murder--on an airship!), but the plot was very fun. I will say this is one of the first books in a long while to genuinely make my world-weary ass laugh out loud in public. Howard truly does know how to turn a phrase and comes off with some great witticisms.

Guns of the Dawn by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Tchaikovsky has been on my radar for a while because I have had Children of Time on my reading list for what feels like an age (and I still haven't gotten around to reading it, but I will soon). To prime myself, I looked up other works by Tchaikovsky. This was around the time I was look for good "stand-alone" Adult Fantasy novels as well, so the two linked up and I had this on my TBR for a while and got around to finally cracking it open.

I really loved this book. If I could describe it in any way, it would be sort of like Pride & Prejudice if Elizabeth Bennet got drafted into a war. Seriously. That's how it reads--and Tchaikovsky made the allusions to Austen's work very clear. The setting is very English-inspired, and the time period mimics Napoleonic times. Definitely the first "Flintlock Fantasy" I've had the pleasure of reading.

The themes of the book are about the caustic nature of nationalism, the blurring of truth during war, and what is true patriotism in the face of falsehood and horror. Definitely my kind of questions--and I love watching characters thrown into completely unfamiliar environments. A genteel woman (Emily Marshwic) being tossed headfirst into grisly, mosquito-infested swamps armed with a musket? It's a fascinating journey she undergoes.

Plus the novel featured a romantic subplot that hits my enemies-to-lovers buttons hard. (It's not at all like one of those tired YA enemies-to-lovers stories, but something more grown-up and messy, which I approve of, because I love drama.) But this is more of a personal note. It's definitely not going to be for everyone.

Retribution Falls (Tales of the Ketty Jay #1) by Chris Wooding

After Johannes Cabal, I got into the mood for some steampunk, and I hadn't actually read much in the way of steampunk, so I looked up some recs and the Tales of the Ketty Jay series seemed to appear on a lot of lists for this kinda thing. The basic gist of this one is... imagine steampunk Firefly. That kinda gives you the whole vibe and feel. It's about a crew of disparate and colorful characters all running from something who meet on the ship the Ketty Jay and have to learn to work together to survive.

Overall, it was a fast-paced read (I read this 400 page sucker in a single day--while doing other stuff) and Wooding knows how to write action and interesting character interactions. The world had some glimmers of brilliance (the wizard analogs in their world--daemonist--were the most intriguing part), but otherwise it was very typical steampunk. I had no real quibbles with any of that (aside from the fact some of it read as very cliche and Wooding's inspirations seemed a little obvious--Fullmetal Alchemist and Firefly being the two big ones that kept hammering me over the head), but my main complaint was with the writing and treatment of female characters. First, there is only one main female character in the Ketty Jay's crew--Jez. I had no real issues with Jez's character or writing (in fact she's refreshing in some ways), but she's completely isolated from any other female characters (and is also the only crew member who isn't really allowed to be a complete screw up--she's somewhat sanitized, which, I guess the heroic women characters aren't allowed to be fuck ups like the men?). Second, the other predominate female characters, of whom there are only three, are mute/dehumanized (Bess), characterized as stupid and unhinged (Amalicia), and have rape-as-a-backstory-written-TERRIBLY (Trinica). All that said, as much as it was cringe, this was written in 2009, and I am sure Wooding has had some growth as a writer since then.

I liked this one enough to decide to check out the next in the series (even knowing the writing for the female characters leaves much to be desired).

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

A Fantasy taking place in an Americas-inspired world? Absolutely refreshing (and more please). The main gist of this one is that a cult sets out to resurrect a dead god (seriously that's the main plot crux) while political machinations are going on in the central city of this country where the resurrection is going to take place. As the novel progresses, it's like a countdown clock to game time. There's four POV characters we follow: Xiala (a Teek sea captain who is kind of an outcast from her native people and has a love for beautiful people), Serapio (the man who has been groomed since birth to be the vessel for the resurrected god, part of this process has included blinding him), Naranpa (the Sun Priest of the capital city who is trying to garner back control the priesthood has lost), and Okoa (who really doesn't even appear until way later into the book; he's been separated from his family to train to be a warrior). For the most part, I was primarily engaged (re: 90% engaged) with Xiala and Serapio's story. They were the most interesting characters, and the journey of them on the sea trying to get to the city before the ceremony was exciting and emotional. The political dealings in Naranpa's segments kind of bogged down the action--and I didn't feel anything for that. Overall though, definitely a thrilling read with a beautifully constructed world. If I had one big criticism, it's that it ended incredibly abruptly without any resolution. I knew going in this was a part of a greater whole, but I still felt the ends could've been knotted a little tighter. I'm left dangling! But I'll be sure to pick up the next one (if anything just to find out what happens to Xiala and Serapio).

Vicious by V.E. Schwab

As an unapologetic villainfucker, I had to read this one, right? It's about not just one, but two villains! How could I lose? And they're in an intense rivalry? Revenge? Betrayal? Superpowers? Gah! Be still my heart!

I'll say I enjoyed this book (fun characters, solid writing), but I didn't love it as much as I thought I would (I wish I could love yooouuuu!). Definitely worth a recommendation to anyone who loves villains and fast-paced narratives, but... there were a few things that tarnished what could've been sparkling. The biggest for me was the jumping around in the first half. For a length of time, the novel leaps between three different points of time, sometimes 2-3 pages at a time, and it was jarring (not confusing, mind you, but it was a jolt each time). I get it was done to create an air of mystique and intrigue, but it felt like I was getting dragged around by the ear. Along with this, the plot just seemed... very convenient? As various moments kept happening, it all felt too tidy and paint-by-numbers. The characters were certainly messy and fun (and I love messy and fun), but the action itself seemed to glide on well-oiled rails with no hiccups. This did lead to the magnetic pacing of the book (which I also read in a day), but it didn't do the drama any favors. Never once did it feel like the characters were caught with their pants down--and I think that's part of the point, but it kind of dampened the tension.

I liked it enough I am definitely going to check out the sequel Vengeful though. If anything I am reading for Sydney, Mitch, and Victor. I gotta know what happens to them!

--

Right now I am reading some fluffy fluff to cleanse my palette because I've been reading so much moodiness. I'm mid-way through the light and breezy Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater (and it's super cute so far) and then I am finally going to crack open Andy Weir's The Martian (because I have put off reading it for far too long).

[allthingshetalia]

Oh my fucking god I absolutely loved your post about the axis with an s/o who rejected them because they thought they weren't good enough, I also L O V E your attitude on this blog you sound like such a nice person to be around 💕!! I was wondering if you could do the forementioned post but with the allies. Thank you so much in advance! ❤❤

💕omg thank you so much!!! I like to think I am lol you made my day! Thank you💕

America

The American stared at you, causing you to shift nervously. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” You gulped. “I’m just not good enough.” You mumbled the last part and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

It was 3 weeks ago today when the American confessed his feelings for you, and what did you do? Tell him you didn’t feel the same way. Oh and Let’s not forget to mention it was his birthday. The only gift he wanted was you being his little precious sidekick, but instead all he got was a blurred out explanation of how you don’t feel the same why and you running out of his house. It was during his party when he pulled you into his room and confessed. Once you left he didn’t bother to leave his room. He locked his bedroom door and didn’t come out till a few days later.

You missed him dearly. And that was how you ended up in his house right now. You were shocked to see the happy American looking so lost and depressed.

Alfred groaning brought you out of your trance. He had his elbows on the kitchen island and his head buried in his hands. His back was hunched and he rubbed at his face. “Alfie.” You mumbled. You were more and more worried the longer you spent with him. You finally got the courage to walk over to him. Your hand reached out and tugged at his shirt sleeve, like a small child.

“How could you think you aren’t good enough for me? I’m not even close to being good! This whole time I thought I would not only have to lose the one I love, but also lose my best friend.” He stood up straight so he was looking down at you. His serious expression was one that always sent shiver down your spine. You winced and decided to be bold. You threw your arms around his waist and buried your face in his shoulder. He quickly returned you hug and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. You pulled away from the hug slightly.

“Can we start over?” You begged. He smiled slightly and rested his head against you forehead.

“You have a deal.”

England

“Will you please talk to me!” You shouted. You followed the angered Brit through his house as he went from room to room trying avoid you.

“Why so you can leave me again?” He spat. Your heart clenched at his words and your hand darted out gripping onto his shoulder.

“Artie please!” He groaned, but finally stopped, causing you to almost run into his back. “I didn’t mean what I said okay! I-I Just”- You stuttered. You groaned and rested your forehead against his back.

“You what?” He asked, urging you to continue.

“I’m not good enough or you.” You whimpered. Hot tears welled up in your eyes and your throat tightened. You felt Arthur’s whole body tense and he quickly turned around to face you. As soon as he saw your tears he gently cupped your face all anger in his body gone.

“What on earth are you talking about, love?”

“I mean, I know you don’t see it but you really are a wonderful person. You’re smart, witty, handsome, and you’re always nice and protective of me. And I’m nothing special. I’m just your average human.” A tear escaped your eye but was quickly brushed away. Arthur’s emerald eyes also threatened to boil over with a few tears. He had no idea you thought so highly of him- and so lowly of yourself.

“You also forgot to mention I’m hot-headed, stubborn, and sometimes just flat out rude.” He chuckled softly. He pressed his forehead against yours. “And you my dear, are anything but average. You are smart, caring, absolutely radiant and nothing less but extraordinary.”

France

“You’re being dramatic!” You shouted. You looked down at the disheveled Frenchman standing right below your balcony. It has been a week since you ‘rejected’ him. Well technically you did reject him, but not because you didn’t like him. You adored him actually, but he was just so perfect that you didn’t know if you would even feel comfortable dating him. Since then he has not left you alone.

“I am not being dramatic! I am a man in love! A man in love is excusable for any act he commits!” Francis shouted. You cringed especially as people walking stopped to watch the scene unfold. You groaned softly and motioned for him to come up. You ran to your door and buzzed him up to your apartment. You swore you could hear him hurdling himself up the stairs and within a few seconds your door flew open. Francis immediately lunges at you, falling to his knees. He wrapped his arms tightly around you pressing his face into your stomach.

“See dramatic!” You huffed poking the top of his head. He did nothing but mumble French words of adoration and thanks into your stomach.

“Will you please tell me what I did! I know you love me! And I don’t mean that in a conceited way. I can see it in your eyes because they shine like mine, with pure love.” He finally stood up and looked at you with desperately. You rolled your eyes at his words and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“I-I.” You started. You ran a hand through your hair and flopped down on the couch. Francis quickly followed and placed your head on his lap running a soothing hand through your hair. “I’m not good enough for you.” You said finally. You waited a moment for him to agree with you but when you looked up at him he stared at you with his mouth agape and his blue eyes wide.

“You’re lying aren’t you! Whatever the reason is I promise you my precious little rose, you are the only one I will love till the day my country vanishes and I no longer exist!” He swore. The fact he said it so sincerely, made you blush. He really was committed wasn’t he?

“I’m not lying! I’m really not good enough for you.” You sighed sitting up. You turned so you could face him. Francis’ finger tilted your head up so you would look at him.

“How could you think that? You are one of the most angelic, fascinating creatures that have ever walked this earth and I’m not leaving your side until you believe that.”

Not suppose to be sexual!

Russia

The large Russian glared down at you angrily. If you were anyone else you would have tried to flee for you life right now.

He bent down and picked you up so you were eye to eye. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you let your legs dangle at his side.

You winced as his gaze never softened.

“Why are you so mad?” You whispered. You had rejected him a week ago. You would think the fact that you lived with him it would be impossible to avoid each other but the large Russian didn’t leave his room. Until he trudged downstairs demanding an answer. You said you didn’t think you were good enough for him, and that you loved him back, but you felt he deserved someone better. And since then he has been giving you the death glare.

“I’m mad because my Sunflower doesn’t know her worth.” He growled. You looked at him curiously. “How can someone so innocent and pure even begin to compare themselves to someone like me?” He asked rhetorically.

“You’re not as bad as you think you are, Vanya.” You soothed. His eyes softened slightly and his large nose brushed against yours.

“I don’t ever what to hear you say anything like that again.” He pressed a quick and light kiss against your lips. “I don’t deserve you and that doesn’t stop me.” He chuckled lightly.

China

He laughed when you told him.

“I’m just not good enough for you!”

It took him a moment to figure out that that is actually what you believed.

“You are crazy, young one.” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. This whole time he thought you had rejected him because you didn’t think he was good enough for you, but now it was the other way around. He knew you loved him but he didn’t know to what extent. He didn’t know if you saw him more as a guiding figure or a lover figure. When he confessed he braced himself for rejection. You could have almost anyone you wanted afterall.

He could promise you love, protection and security. And good food. But he didn’t know if that would be enough for you. When you rejected him he took it very well. He smiled and kissed the top of your head like he always did and assured you that he had no hard feeling and that he didn’t want a single thing to change. And things didn’t change for a while. You still hung out with him almost everyday. You still had sleepovers, still watched movies and ate dinner together. Laughed and joked. Drank tea together. But the subject came around again.

You wondered if he actually loved you. If you had confessed and he rejected you, you would have been bawling your eyes out for the past month. “I will always love you and I just want you to be happy more than anything.” Is what he told you. You then confessed that he was what you wanted. You had been holding it in every time you visited and it finally bubbled over, you then decided you should tell him why you rejected him in the first place.

“You are just shy of perfect.” He smiled. “And that is something people spend years trying to obtain.”

Canada

“Are you insane!” The Canadian yelled. You jumped at his volume. “First you reject me and now you’re saying that you lied and you actually do love me?” He asked. He was much quieter than before, trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yes! I know, that was a horrible thing to do.” He nodded his head in agreement. “We both know you deserve better!” You explained. Matthew quickly stopped in his tracks turning to you with a shocked face.

“That’s why you rejected me? Because you didn’t think you were good enough?” He whispered in disbelief. You nodded your head slowly. Two large arms quickly wrapped themselves around your form. “Maple How could you ever think that?” He sighed.

“You’re Just always so nice. You stand up for other people, you protect them.” Tears started to flow down your cheeks at this point. “You’re hilarious, you’re a great cool. You’re so handsome! I just don’t get why you would want me.” You murmured. You pressed yourself deeper into the large Canadians chest.

“What I see in you?” He chuckled softly. He pulled away from you slightly and cupped your face in his calloused hands. “I see one of the most beautiful, intelligent, strong, and incredible people ever, and I don’t know how you can’t see that, but I guess it’s a good thing or else you would get cocky.” He chuckled.

[dex-xe]

I’ve made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I’ve made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is Pat's playlist:

Dancing In the Dark - Bruce Springsteen

A 1984 hit that Pat definitely would have loved, it’s brilliant tbh.

I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Poor Pat. I feel so sorry for him having to leave his family so young, like as someone who lost a parent very young (although I’m assuming slightly older than Daley would’ve been) it breaks my heart to see Pat’s family turn up at Button House. I’ve been to the place my parent died a number of times since and every time it makes me feel kinda sick. It’s an interesting idea for the show to explore, sometimes I forget just how dark this show actually is but like it’s a comedy but it’s literally about the trauma of death like???

Kids In America - Kim Wilde

I too adore Kim Wilde, Pat.

Dance With Me - Alphaville

RIP Pat Butcher you would’ve loved this song. Like Pat’s a dancing king as has been shown in ALN (one of my favourite episodes O.o) and that’s legit one of my favourite scenes where Pat and the Captain are arguing on the dance floor. I say “naff off, you wazzock” more than is socially acceptable XD

Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond

Pat was obviously a fan of Sweet Caroline, man was a DJ extraordinaire and a huge football fan therefore obvious. It’s kinda weird to imagine Pat at the local game on a Sunday afternoon but like he definitely did, maybe he took Daley a few times. More of Pat’s life please, Parent Pat plsss.

Radio Ga Ga - Queen

The Grey Lady is one of my absolute favourite episodes cause I think ghosts hunters are a really great concept for an episode and Pat trying to host a radio show is just so incredibly funny. Pat’s little “apologies to those still waiting for the pop quiz” is just so good. But yeah, radio guy.

Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles

More radio references but also, I think Pat (and Julian as well) are most indicative of the increasingly rapid passage of time through technology. Like when Pat’s like”knocks the socks off Betamax!!” And Julian says “that must be two CD noms max” or something (I can’t remember exactly what he says). There’s a thing called Moore’s Law that states that technology doubles in capability and halves in price every two years (I know that’s not right but that’s the basic gist don’t come at me) but that means that growth in technological accessibility is increasing at a more rapid pace every year. Anyway, I think watching Pat and Julian struggle with modern technology is so fascinating cause they’re so different to today despite only living a few decades ago.

Together In Electric Dreams - Phil Oakey & Giorgio Moroder

Pat would’ve just missed this and honestly big sad. Such a cheesy song and just pure 80s cringe and I adore it XD But yeah, “we will always be together”.

Dancing in the Moonlight - Toploader

I put this on so many character playlists (I have literally hundreds of private character playlists on my personal spotify, there’s legitimately tons) because it’s just a nice song and yeah, Pat would love it :D

Alright - Supergrass

This was more placed here as something for Pat’s scouts. Like the song is so often used to show young people having fun and being care-free and I just love the image of Pat driving the scouts out into the country and it being a superrrrr long drive and then finally they get off the bus and just run free with this song playing. I loved being in Scouts and most of the Masters were so much fun and I just really wanna see more of Pat making sure his scouts have a great time!!

Come On Eileen - Dexys Midnight Runners

(Dexys Midnight Runners are actually the reason behind my username on here…) But yeah just the 80s personified this song. And I hope your proud of me for not making the classic Australian Radio joke I always make when this song comes up… XD

December, 1963 (Oh What A Night) - Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons

Pat was born in 1945/6, right?? Well then he would’ve turned 18 in 1963. I always forget that Pat was not just an 80s guy like he was a teen in the 50s and 60s and then in his 20s in the 70s like that’s sick!! But yeah sorry, this is just a great song!!

(Feels Like) Heaven - Fiction Factory

Pat, my guy. My heart breaks in that scene where Pat really thinks he’s going to heaven. My. Heart. Breaks. I’m assuming the ghosts don’t know what happens when you “move on” but Pat immediately assumes upon seeing a bright light that that’s it for him?? Maybe it’s just based on films and pop culture that he’s aware of?? Or maybe it’s just because he was emotional and had had a massive revelation of sorts and assumed he would move on??

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Jimmy Somerville

Just a good song againnnnnnnnn, but also since Alison turning up like how incredible would it be to finally have a living breathing human who you can talk to. Like how real would that make you feel?? Like okay Jimmy, come back to me once you've been dead 40 years and meet a woman who half died and can now see you, then that's real!! XD

Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds

I feel like Pat more than anyone is concerned about being forgotten but is also one of the least likely to be forgotten for the time being. Like he has a whole family who won’t forget him for at minimum two generations in addition to God knows how many scouts who will clearly not forget him. He passed on skills that they will pass on to others who will pass on to others like one day his name will be forgotten but not what he imparted onto the world. Okay got philosophical but yeah, you shan’t be forgotten any time soon Pat!!

Top Gun Anthem - Harold Faltermeyer & Steve Stevens

A great film, good choice Pat.

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go - Wham!

1980s icon George Michael. Just a fun song.

Somewhere in My Heart - Aztec Camera

Pat still loves Carol despite what she did to him… That is either an incredibly emotionally mature man or a man in denial who knows?? But this song is just so lovely, like it feels very pure and uncomplicated if that makes sense.

I’m Still Standing - Elton John

Having just said that, I feel like this is part is just kind of a fuck you. Like just a moment to be like ‘i’m still living (hehe dying) a good life (hehe death) despite what you did to me.'

The Wanderer - Status Quo

This is the song that plays when Pat gets into the bus after being shot. It’s basically just about being a player and hitting on loads of women, so not particularly relevant but it’s still a good song and I genuinely find that scene really eerie and yeah, *shudder* just find it weird.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Two

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: you get an surprise visit on your day off

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1600 and something (kinda short but i’m already half way through writing part three)

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader does not know Peter is SpiderMan. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Masterlist   Part One

- - - - -

It had been a week since your meeting with Tony and since then the two of you had become quite good friends. Tony would make sure he came to the desk everyday or found you at lunch with Peter to catch up with you both.  

Today was your first day off in a while and it was much needed. You’d spent the day in your loungewear, doing some painting and listening to old 80’s rock music. In the evening you decided to order pizza, and do some baking while you wait for it to be delivered. You were just getting the ingredients ready when someone knocked at the door. ‘Pizza is early’ you thought as you put down the flour and headed to answer the door. 

“Wow that was quick- oh” you said opening the door surprised to see Tony on the other side. 

“Sorry were you expecting someone?” He asked.

“No no, just thought you were the pizza guy” you laugh awkwardly. 

“No pizza here I’m afraid. Just me. Wanted to check in, see if you’re okay? Didn’t see you in work today”

“It’s was my day off. I’m back in tomorrow”

“Ah right. Good. Well, that’s great then” he turns and goes to leave. 

“Would you like to come in for a drink, and maybe some pizza? Seeing as you came all this way.” You ask, surprising yourself with your sudden confidence. 

“I don't want to intrude..”

“you wouldn’t be. Ive been on my own all day, it would actually be nice to have some company.”

“Thanks” he smiles and walks past you. You shut the door, silently cursing yourself as you realise that your boss, THE Tony Stark, has now seen you in your paint stained loungewear. You follow him into the open plan kitchen/living room of your apartment and wish you’d cleaned up first. Your paints, brushes and sketchbook still all over the coffee table from earlier and the kitchen messy with baking stuff. 

“Sorry about the mess” you apologise, fiddling with the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into this morning, attempting to tidy it up a bit. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not that bad”

You raise your eyebrow at him.

“no really, I’ve seen rooms in much worse states than this after some of the parties I used to have back in the day”

You both laugh and Tony walks over to look at one of the paintings hanging on your wall “this is nice” he says pointing at it and you walk over to stand next to him. The painting is of a beach with the sun setting over the ocean, the orange glow reflecting off the waves and ripples in the water. 

“its the beach I used to visit every summer when I was a kid. Some of my favourite memories happened there” you stare at the painting daydreaming about the past. Picnics with your parents, playing fetch with your childhood dog, swimming on really hot days. Tony watches you out the corner of his eye, smiling when he notices the content smile that has appeared on your face. When you suddenly take a breath and snap back into the present he turns his attention back to the painting. 

“this is actually one of the first paintings I ever did-“

“you painted this?” Tony interrupts, turning to look at you and you give him a shy nod. “wow, you have a real talent. When you said before that ‘painting didn’t pay the bills’, I presumed that just meant you weren’t very good”

You burst out laughing his blunt honestly which takes Tony by surprise. 

“no, no what I meant was, the art world is a hard one to get into as an unknown artist. I couldn’t risk waiting around for that big break.”

Tony nods, looking at you thoughtfully.

“can I see some more of your work?” He asks.

“yeah sure, I’ve got some stuff in a folder in my room” you say as you run off toward your bedroom. When you come back out carrying the folder of paintings you notice Tony sitting on the sofa looking through the sketchbook you’d left on your coffee table. 

“these are really good y/n, really I mean that.” He says, turning the pages and you take a seat next to him “you’ll have to paint something for me to hang in my office, that place needs brightening up a bit-“ he stops when he reaches a pencil sketch of Steve Rogers and you feel your whole body cringe. “this guy? really, you drew this guy?”

“what, I, uh..” You stutter “..he’s got a good jaw line. It’s very satisfying to draw” you shrink down into the sofa wishing it would swallow you whole, then theres a knock at the door.

“ah that will be the real pizza guy” you say jumping up to walk to the door but Tony stands in your way.

“no let me get it. You get us some drinks. I’ve been here a full five minutes and you’ve still not got me one” he winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

As you get glasses out the cupboard and put them on the counter you notice Tony is acting suspiciously. He walks slowly and carefully toward the door, and takes a long look through the peephole before finally opening the door. You presume he’s just always on high alert because of who he is. Being a high profile business man and one of the best known superheroes must mean he’s used to having dangerous people lurking around every corner. 

After pouring two drinks you move over to the sofa and place the glasses down on the coffee table and hiding your sketchbook under the sofa. Tony appears with the pizza and you quickly move your paints off the table to make space for him to put the box down. 

“thanks for grabbing the pizza, you’ve saved me the embarrassment of anyone else seeing the state of me right now” you say gesturing to your clothes, as he takes a seat next to you and you hand him his drink.

He looks you up and down, shrugs and says “I’ve seen worse” and winks at you. He holds his glass up for you to toast and you hold your glass up too.

“to you, and your weird fascination with Captain America’s chin” he teases you and you shake your head at him.

“I am not toasting to that” you laugh

- - - - -    

An hour later you’d both got through the whole pizza and almost a whole bottle of wine, talking and laughing the whole time as Tony told you about some of the things he used to get up to pre Iron Man. You get up to carry the empty pizza box over to the bin in your kitchen and refill both your glasses. 

“hey what’s for dessert” Tony shouts over to you.

“well I was just about to start making brownies before you arrived”

“I was only kidding about dessert but actually I would kinda love some brownies right now” Tony says, getting up and walking over to join you in the kitchen.

“well I guess we could bake some?” you say half joking but Tony grabs your apron off the hook on the wall and ties it around his waist which makes you laugh.

“what are you laughing at, I'm ready to learn”

“wait, you’ve never made brownies before? Not even as a kid?” You ask in disbelief and Tony shakes his head.

“my family weren’t really into that sort of thing” he shrugged. 

“well then Mr Stark, I am about to change your life” you say, handing him a wooden spoon and he smiles at you. 

Tony mixed together the melted chocolate and butter with the eggs and sugar while you measure out the flour into a bowl. You handed him the flour to add into the mixture but as he poured it in he dropped some of the flour onto the arm of his suit and you laughed covering your mouth with your hand. 

“oh you think thats funny do you?” He says and he takes a hand a handful of flour and chucks it at you, laughing. You gasp and wipe some of the flour off yourself before grabbing a handful and throwing it back at him. He grabs your hand mid air and pulls you slightly but you trip over your own feet and stumble into him. He catches you and the laughter dies down as you both look into each others eyes, faces dangerously close to each other. His eyes flicker down to your lips and he moves in slightly. But then he stops, and lets you go. Clearing his throat and taking a step back. You take a deep breath and brush some flour off yourself. 

“well, uh, this was fun” he says, slightly awkward “but, I should probably be going now”

“yeah, yeah..” you agree walking him to the door “it’s getting late”

He stops at the door and turns around to smile at you.

“thanks for the pizza, and for the baking lesson”

“no problem” you smile “i’ll bring some of the brownies in to work tomorrow” 

“Good night y/n” he says walking out the door

“Good night” 

You close the door behind him and press your forehead against it, replaying what just happened in your head. Did you really just almost kiss your boss? And did he almost kiss you back? Did you overstep your boundaries even inviting him in tonight? Would things be awkward tomorrow? 

You let out a frustrated sigh and go back to the kitchen to finish baking and tidy up the mess from your flour fight. You know there’s no point thinking about it tonight but you also know that you won’t be able to think of anything else. 

Part Three

Taglist: @brownbuble​ 

[sherrybaby14]

Sneaky Steve

Requests:  I saw your requests are open, I’d love to request a fix were Steve goes after and having an affair with the girlfriend of one of the other avengers?

If you ever feel the inspiration I’d love to see your take on Steve going after a reader who was already in a relationship (maybe a bit dub con but obviously your choices, I know it’s great no matter what )

Omg I saw your requests were open! I’m internally screaming because I’m dying for some sex pollen with a dark! Steve, I honestly live for that shit 😍  So if you have time and feel like writing it, you would be making me so freaking happy! Have a great day babe x

A/N:  I’m being ambitious and combining the three.  

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen,  I’m going to label this NONCON, but it turns into Dub con with the drugs and what not.  

Pairing:  dark!Steve x reader

“I don’t know Sam, he’s just so…”. The word you were searching for was creepy, but looking at his desperate need to have you get closer to his best friend made you think an insult wasn’t the way to go.  “Intimidating.”  

“He’s really not.”  Sam pulled over a lab chair and slid next to your work bench. “He’s just a person.  Please get to know him.”  

You didn’t know what to say.  You’d only been on a handful of dates with Sam.  It wasn’t like you’d even been intimate yet.  Why did it matter to him that you liked his friend so much?  

“He says the same thing about you.  Intimidating.”  Sam shook his head.  “Look, I really like you and I want this to work with us, but Steve is such an important part of my life.  I want my girl and my best friend to get along. Maybe the two of you can spend some time together?”  

“Maybe.”  You’d noticed Steve stop by the lab several times over the last year.  He’d never once spoken more than one word answers to you, but you always felt like his eyes were on you.  

Even when you glanced up at him he wouldn’t break the gaze.  It made you uncomfortable.  

“Great.”  Sam clapped his hands. “I told him to come by around five, when you get off for the day.  Then the two of you can get to know each other and we will all meet for dinner.”

“What? No!”  You realized he’d had this set before you’d agreed.  “I mean.  I have to work late tonight.  There’s some weird compound that needs analyzing.  Very nerd level stuff.”  

“Okay, no dinner.”  Sam looked defeated. “But maybe you could take a break and talk to the man for ten minutes?  Give him a tour of the lab?”

“He’s been to the lab plenty.”  You shivered thinking about the way his blue eyes bore into yours.  

“Please baby.”  Sam squeezed your knee.  “For me?”  

“Fine.”  You rolled your eyes. “Ten minutes.  And am I really your girl?”

“On the way to the title.” Sam winked and stood up.  “Call me later tonight? When you’re done with work?”   “Alright.”  You shook your head. “Now get out of here or I’m going to have to stay even later.”  

Sam gave you a nod before turning and leaving.  You smiled as you looked down at his ass.  He was a good catch and if he wanted you to bond with Steve maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

~~

The compound was fascinating and you were lost in your work.  A knock came, making you jump up from the table.  There he was.  Captain America in jeans and a t-shirt.  Even without the uniform he was still intimidating.  

“Hey. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He had his hands in his pockets. “Sam wanted me to come by.”  

“Yeah.”  You pushed out the chair.  “Sorry. I forgot.  I’m…”

“I know your name.”  Steve kept a dead face.

“Oh?”  You stood up, his gaze never ending.  “Sam thinks it would be good if we got to know each other.  We’re starting to get a little more serious and all.”  

“Oh?” Steve smiled.  It didn’t look natural though, almost like he was making fun of you.  “He mentioned a tour?”

“Right.”  You walked past him and cringed, wondering why he was so creepy.  “Well this is the organic material lab.  Nothing in here is synthetic.  I just kinda house the stuff, do a few little research projects here or there.”  

“House?” His voice was so close.

You looked over your shoulder to see he was almost on top of you.  You slid to the left and unlocked one of the cabinets.  

“Yeah.  A bunch of different compounds.”  You opened your arm. “Really boring stuff unless you’re into chemistry.”  

“So what’s this one?”  Steve reached in the cabinet.  

He didn’t grab one on top.  Instead he reached back and pulled a container so random it didn’t seem random at all.  

“Be careful!  Some of this stuff is dangerous.”  You wanted to slap his hand, but didn’t want to touch him.  

“Like this?”  He flipped open the lid.  

“HEY!”  You didn’t have time to react before he pursed his lips and blew.  

Orange powder blasted you in the face.  

“What the fuck?”  You spun and ran to the eye wash station, trying your hardest not to breathe any of it in.   “What is wrong with you?  What was that?”  

“Ipomoea purpurea helianthus annuus.”  Steve did not have any semblance of concern or fear, in fact he sounded quite happy.  

You scrubbed your skin while your brain tried to place the compound.  

“I wouldn’t worry about getting it all off.”  Steve was right behind you.  “All you need is a few spores to take effect.  I’m thinking we’ve got less than three minutes.”  

“What?”  You turned to look at him.  “What effect?”  

“I thought you were smart.”  Steve frowned.  “You don’t have all the best potions down by name yet?”  

“Are you psychotic?”  You started toward the door.  

“Where are you going?”  Steve raced over and blocked the exit.  “If you leave you risk infecting others.  We have to wait here until the spores are dead.”  

“What did you blast me with?  Why?”  You tried to pay attention to your body, looking for any differences.  

“Because I couldn’t take it any longer.”  Steve stood against the door, arms spread.  “The teasing looks. The tension between us.  Dating Sam to get my attention?  That was a bit of a low blow Doll.”  

“What?”  None of what he was saying registered.  “I genuinely like Sam.”

“Come on, he knows it to. Your little secret obsession with me.  Our cat and mouse game.”  Steve dipped his chin.  “He only asked you out to piss me off.  But I think it’s going a little too far.  You belong to me.”  

An itching came over you so sudden that you didn’t notice you were scratching at your neck.  The temperature in the lab was increasing too and you shrugged your coat off.  What did he give you?  You’d been too busy listening to his crazy speech you forgot about the dust he blew in your face.  

“I know how shy you can be.”  Steve relaxed away.  “I’ve had enough teasing. I wanted to get right to the point.”  

It clicked and your eyes went wide with horror as you looked at Steve.  

“No.” You swallowed and shoved at him.  “You have to get out of here. You have to get away from me.  We can’t.”  

“Shhhh, calm down.”  He reached out and pulled you close, you felt so small smothered by his frame.  “ You’re lucky I’m being this gentle with you after your little stunt with Sam.  This way we will both enjoy everything and skip over the awkwardness.”  

“You’re crazy.”  You started to shake as the heat intensified.  “None of what you’re saying.”  

“Games over kitten.  You won.”  Steve dropped his arms and shook them out.  “You got me to break first, but I’m a sore loser.”  

“You’re…” You couldn’t finish the thought, your body was getting so hot.  

Too hot.  It felt like you were baking.  Your clothing itched against your skin.  You needed it off.  Every stitch.

“Don’t fight it. What’s the point?”  Steve grabbed the bottom of his shirt.  “I’m going to enjoy every second of the ride.”  

You wanted to screech at him, but the image of his rippling abs made you clench your thighs together.   What had he done to you?  Were you flirting with him?  NO!  You grabbed the counter and looked away.  

“Here.  I’ll help you.”  Steve was behind you.  

He lifted up the bottom of your top and you whimpered.  You didn’t know if it was because you didn’t want him undressing you or because you were desperate for it.  Everything was getting foggy and the need in your core continued to pool.  

“That’s it.”  Steve lifted your shirt, you hadn’t even realized you’d lifted your arms.  “Good girl.  We’re going to have so much fun together. We deserve it.  We both wanted it for so long.”  

Your shirt hit the floor and you brought your hands back to the table.  Focus.  You didn’t want this.  Thinking the thought felt like a betrayal.  Steve’s hands came around your hips.  He started to undue your pants and you thrust your ass out, giving him easier access.  

“Baby you’re body is amazing.”  Steve pushed your pants down.

You kicked off your shoes and used your toes to yank your socks off before you stepped out of your clothing, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments.  

Steve was so creepy.  You’d always thought so, but right now he almost seemed sweet.  Wanting to take care of you, to scratch the itch that was burning up your skin.  The little voice screaming no was getting quieter and quieter as your body felt flush with heat.  

“Help me?”  You ruined your head over your shoulder.  “I don’t want it to hurt.”  

“I’ll never hurt you Doll.”  Steve cupped your cheek.  “Never.”  

His lips crashed on to yours and that was it.  No more little voices.  He spun you around and sat you on the counter positioned between your thighs.  You brought your legs up and pulled him closer, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans.  You moaned in frustration.  

“You’re mine Doll.”  Steve pressed his forehead to yours. “And I take care of what is mine.”  

He brought his hands between you and took off his pants.   You used the opportunity to unhook your bra and drag it down your arms.  

“Perfection.”  While Steve was undressing the rest of the way his head went to your chest.  

His tongue flicked against your nipple.  Forcing it into a tighter pebble than it already was and forcing you to cry out.  

“Too much.”  You ran your hand through his hair.  “Please.  I need you.”  

Steve looked up at your with and let out a growl.  It made you fall back against the table, the cool metal giving little relief.   The only break from the heat was Steve.  Hands were on your panties yanking them down and you almost cried as the scent of your sex filled the lab.  

“You have me.”  You felt his head run up your slit.  “Always.”  

He pushed inside of you with one stroke.   Your back arched and you saw stars as he stretched your walls.  You’d never felt anything like this before.  Every pleasure center in your body was activated and on fire for the man.  

“You are so tight Doll.”  Steve grabbed your thighs and started dragging your body to meet his thrusts.  

You looked up at him.  His eyes were glued to you, but the intense gaze no longer felt creepy.  You realized that wasn’t the word.  It was obsessive.  The man was obsessed with you and you never noticed.  

Before you could whine at the realization his hand came down and cupped your cheek, this time not so gentle.  He spread his fingers until his thumb was at your mouth.  Without hesitation you parted your lips and took his digit into your mouth, grabbing his wrists as you began sucking.  

“Fuck that is a beautiful sight.”  Steve bottomed out, right against your cervix sending a slight sting.  

He stopped moving, but you continued to suck, running your tongue up and down his thumb as you moaned.  Then hit other hand slid up your thigh.  He gathered some of your juices and pressed his thumb to your clit.  You whined as your legs twitched.  

His mouth parted with a stiffened moan as he began rubbing.  Then he started the micro movements.  Bumping his cock against your womb.  The little stings mixed with the pleasure from his thumb and you felt the fall begin.  

You rolled your hips against him, wanting the thrusts and touch deeper, your teeth grazing against his thumb while you still sucked.  Steve’s other fingers dug into your cheek.  You’d never felt this way, so alive, so owned, so devoted, and so desperate.  

“Cum for me Doll.”  Steve’s blue eyes flashed.  “It’s just the first on many.  But I want to see it.  I want to see every muscle on your body twitch.  Cum for me.  Now.”  

You didn’t know if it was because of his words, his hands, his cock, or because your body was ready.  But your orgasm started instantly.  You let out a scream as your head lulled to the side, no longer able to keep Steve’s thumb in your mouth.  

The fire in your body was cooled, replaced with euphoria.  You were hovering in the ecstasy when Steve pulled out and began railing into you.  Every pump of his cock forcing you back onto your cloud.  

“So beautiful.”  Steve leaned down so his lips were next to you ear.  “And all mine.  Forever.”  

“Yes.”  You brought a hand behind his head, hoping that this feeling would never drop.  “Always.”  

[fanficimagery]

Imagine being someone who developed powers when you were just a mere child. The government rounded up every child/teenager who showed inhuman abilities under the guise they were going to help them, but the reality was much darker. Director Fury took you in when he realized your capabilities and couldn't let the government put you down. Instead, he hands you over to a group of individuals who can protect you- the Avengers.

Gen Fic X Reader

Sitting in the tallest Tower in New York, you pull your hoodie closed and hug yourself when the stares become too much. Keeping your head down, you let Director Fury talk to the group he claimed would be able to keep you safe- the Avengers.

"So let me get this straight," Tony Stark says, pouring himself a drink. "The government wants her dead. Her. A kid?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Natasha Romanoff asks.

"Lets just say Miss Y/L/N is a valuable asset." You cringe at his words, hugging yourself tighter. "She is of no harm to you so long as you don't touch her. She doesn't like to be touched." Fury pointedly admits. "The program Y/N was in is top secret. So secret that it was above even my clearance level until they wanted my opinion on something."

Clint Barton huffs. "She's just a kid though."

"I don't like this," Steve Rogers admits, expression tight with concealed anger.

"Neither did I," Fury says, "hence the reason for me springing her loose and dropping her off here. They're already searching for her, so I trust I can count on you all to keep her safe until I figure out my next move?"

"Of course," Pepper Potts tells him. "Y/N is more than welcomed here."

"Good." Director Fury nudges your knee with his own, you having become fascinated with your green clinical pants as they talked about you as if you weren't even in the room. "I'll be back for you as soon as I can. You're safe here."

You hesitantly meet his gaze and when you see nothing but complete honestly you nod. The corner of Fury's lips twitch, but he quickly masks it and stands, leaving with a dramatic twirl of his long coat.

Fury's exit prompts a lingering silence and it's only broken once you gather enough courage to look up and meet everyone's gaze. Everyone seems to be watching you with caution, but it's the pretty strawberry blonde, Miss Potts, that approaches you.

"Welcome to the Tower, Y/N. I'm terribly sorry about the ordeal you've been through, but if you follow me I can take you to your new room and get you settled in."

"T-Thank you," you stammer quietly. "All of you," you then say, glancing quickly around at everyone. "This means a lot to me." Your first words since you've set foot in the tower seem to put most of them at ease and it seems like they're all breathing a little easier.

"Hey, kid?" Tony then says. "Do you even know who we are? Did Fury tell you what we do?"

"Yeah. He m-made me read your files." Several people cringe and you immediately feel like you crossed an invisible line you hadn’t realized was there. "Don't worry. I won't say a w-word and I'll try to stay out of your way as much as p-possible."

"Aw, kid, no," Clint Barton frowns. "We didn't mean to make you feel bad. We just needed to know you knew about our abilities. Just in case."

"What he means is just in case the Hulk makes an appearance," Doctor Banner says, sheepishly fiddling with his glasses. "Things tend to get.. smashed when he comes out."

"Oh."

"Well now that that's out of the way," Pepper muses, "we can go now and get you some clothes made for kids your age." You hesitantly smile, but when Pepper reaches for you she immediately stalls and apologizes.

"It's f-fine," you tell her. "As long as it's not skin and skin, you can touch."

"Oh." Pepper cautiously reaches out and places her hand in the middle of your clothed covered back to guide you, and you flash her a small smile. She returns it, sighing in relief. "Well okay then."

A week in and you're completely gobsmacked with your new rooms and clothing Pepper Potts had bestowed upon you. The CEO of Stark Industries had even gone out of the way to purchase you cotton, elbow length gloves to make you feel more comfortable and you adored her for it.

The Avengers and those associated with them took Fury's words to heart and were careful about not touching skin when you wore a short sleeve shirt or a tank top with your gloves, but they never ceased being curious about why the government wanted you dead. Fury had told you to be careful with what you said, so you never said anything other than that you were an asset who didn't want to do their bidding.

Their personal gym proved to be useful and you found yourself visiting there more often than not. Running on the treadmills was one of your favorite things to do when you felt cooped up and taking a swing at the punching bags was a close second.

One day, however, things take a turn.

Punching one of the bags in the gym, you flinch when you feel a twinge in your left wrist. Hissing, you immediately stop and then startle when a voice says, "You need more tape."

A hand touches your bare bicep and you pull away with a gasp. When you turn around you see Bucky Barnes standing there, wide eyed and sheepish with his hands held up. Steve Rogers is at his side, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Bucky says. "I forget people are afraid of the metal."

When his words sink in, your gaze darts to his metal hand and.. and you realize you didn't see anything. Your own eyes subtly widen and you step forward in awe, feeling immensely guilty at his saddened expression. "No. I didn't- I-I'm sorry. I-" You reach out, stopping before you can touch him. "Can I?" You ask, then gesturing to his metal arm. "I didn't flinch because of that."

Bucky frowns and lowers his hands. "You didn't?"

"No." He hesitantly holds his hand out and you cautiously take his metal hand in your own, tears filling your eyes as you trail your fingertips over him. Sniffling, you let him go and wipe at your eyes.

"Y/N?" Steve says. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah.” Then laughing wetly, you say, "I don't mean to freak you guys out. It's just- well I haven't touched anyone since I was ten. It's.. nice." Suddenly feeling overwhelmed and idiotic under their pitying stares, you make an excuse to leave and flee the gym.

Later that night you're invited to movie night and go. And since you were in a tank top and pajama pants when Clint stopped by to drag you upstairs if need be, you merely pull on a pair of gloves before leaving for the communal floor. You take a seat on one of the available love seats and are momentarily shocked when Bucky asks to sit next to you. Usually everyone let you sit by yourself, but not tonight.

Just as snacks are being passed around, you feel Bucky nudge your knee with his own. Glancing at him, he shrugs his metal shoulder and grins, and when you realize what he's doing you smile at him. Taking off your gloves, much to everyone's surprise, you hesitantly scoot as close as you can to Bucky and practically hug his metal arm. You lay your cheek against his shoulder, snuggling in for the movie.

Tony gapes, Natasha grins, and Steve smothers his laughter by shoving popcorn in his mouth. The others stare briefly before just going with it and all seems to be forgotten for the time being.

After it seemed that you were more than comfortable to cuddle Bucky's arm, people made it a point to always seat Bucky to your right so his metal arm was right next to you. Tony was the only one who thought it was weird, but it gave you a sense of relief to be able to touch someone without being thrown into one of their memories.

But of course, secrets never remain a secret for long.

With Steve and Natasha away on a mission, Bucky found his way to your apartment. You had let him in and the two of you were going to start watching movies from a list he'd been compiling. And with how comfortable you and Bucky had become around each other, it's no shock that a mistake was made.

Bucky holds out two glasses of soda for you to take and you immediately reach for them without even realizing you don't have your gloves on. Your finger tips brush Bucky's flesh hand and your thrown into a memory of his. The memory is hazy around the edges and Bucky with shorter, cropped and styled hair can be seen panting heavily against a wall. His blue uniform is one from a different time and you watch as he leaves the safety of his hiding spot to engage in a fight. He uses Captain America's shield to deflect bullets being shot at him and then he's falling out the side of the train car. Steve jumps in to save him, but Bucky can't quite reach and then you watch in horror as he's falling, falling, falling..

You pull back from Bucky with a shout, soda splattering your feet and his. Bucky reaches for you as you bump into the couch, but you pull away, hugging yourself tightly and crying.

"Y/N? Shit. I'm sorry. I forgot-"

"You fell. You fell and Steve had to watch and oh my god. Oh my god, Bucky, you fell."

"What?"

Your babbling immediately ceases and when you glance up at Bucky you see he's gone pale. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to see," you tell him. He still seems tense and you gulp down a sob. "It's why I don't like skin on skin contact. I see things I'm not supposed to."

Bucky takes a moment and then he seems to lose the tension in his frame. "So you see things? That's why the government wants you dead?"

Tersely nodding, you then gesture to the sofas in the lounge. "Can you stay so I can explain? I'll understand if you want to leave. It's just.. Fury cautioned me about who I tell this to."

"Yeah, kid, I'll stay. Just let me pick this up."

As Bucky cleans up the mess you'd made by dropping the glasses of soda, you take a seat on the sofa. Then picking up your feet, you bend your knees and hug your legs as you wait for Bucky to take a seat of his own. When's he's seated across from you, you finally explain what's going on. "Several years ago, there was this world wide phenomena where kids between the ages of five and seventeen suddenly inherited powers. Some kids died, others survived the event, and some weren't even affected."

"But you were?"

"I was. It happened on the night of my tenth birthday and the next day I was being picked up by the government and bused to a secret camp where they tested each and every one of us before separating us into factions- green, blue, gold, red, and orange. Reds and orange were considered lethal and to be killed on sight."

Bucky frowns. "When you first got here, you were wearing a green uniform."

You nod. "I was, but I wasn't supposed to be a green," you quietly admit. "When I realized what the doctor was going to do after he realized what my color was, there was a brief struggle before I got my hand around his wrist. It was like he froze and then I told him that I was safe. That I was green and he was going to change my status from orange to green. So he did. And I got away with it until Director Fury showed up and we were given new tests, and they figured out I was lying."

"What do the colors even mean?" He then wonders.

"Greens were the safest people, the ones whose ability was super intelligence. Blue had telekinesis and gold had electrokinesis. But reds usually became volatile what with their pyrokinesis. However, oranges such as myself, were considered the most dangerous."

"Why?"

"Because oranges can control the mind." Bucky tenses and you hug your legs tighter. You know his history with HYDRA and you figured he'd be the most uncomfortable with what you could do. "When my powers first manifested, I was laying in bed next to my mother. I told her to not worry about me, that everything would be okay and I touched her the exact moment my powers kicked in. The following morning my mother didn't even know who I was and called the government to pick me up because powered children had been all over the news for a couple months by then and she was scared."

"You told your mother not to worry.. and she woke up with no memory of a child to worry about. You erased yourself from her memory?"

"I did. I don't even know how I did it, but I did. There were rumors that oranges could do so much more with their powers, but the government had all oranges and reds killed so it's not like anyone knows for sure."

"Jesus Christ," Bucky mutters. Smoothing his flesh hand over his face, he then asks, "How did the government get away with rounding all of you up? How do they explain killing children?"

You shrug. "They were a secret organization with the backing of the President. Families were bribed with money to forget their children and if they couldn't be bribed then they were blackmailed. The phenomena never happened again after that one year, but there are still so many kids in captivity. I'm not sure what the purpose of them keeping us was for since all we did was practically work in a sweatshop."

"Kid, you have to tell someone."

"I just did. And Fury knows as well," you say. "And besides, what's anyone doing to do? They're being backed by the President, Bucky. Most of the world already forgot about us."

"Jesus," he swears again.

The two of you lapse into silence and then you tell him, "You can't say anything. I was most scared of you to find out because of your history, but I still don't want the others to know. Not yet."

He doesn't acknowledge anything you've just said, but he does seem to light up with a realization. "Wait.. if you erased yourself from someone's memory, is it possible you can erase words from a person's mind?"

"I- it's possible?" You admit with some confusion. "But like I said, I have no training. There's no one to train me, so I wouldn't know what the hell I'm doing."

"I have words in my mind- triggers," he says. "If someone comes a long and recites them in a specific order, it triggers the Winter Soldier programming," he says. "I need them removed, but so far we've found no one. But you-"

"Bucky," you say, quietly. "I'm not sure it's possible."

"But there is a chance."

He looks so happy that you can't bear to refuse him. "If we were to try, I'd see everything," you say."

His expression falters. "Would it hurt?"

"You wouldn't even feel me."

"Then I want you to try."

He scoots forward in his seat and your eyes widen. "Not now! I need to meditate.. or something. Fury showed me some things, but then I was dropped here."

"Fine. Next week?"

"I- uh, sure."

Bucky seems upbeat for the rest of the night and you know you're going to have a long week of mediating and figuring out your powers so you don't accidentally screw your friend over.

When the day comes, you and Bucky wait until everyone has gone to bed. He makes his way to your apartment in the early hours and puts his complete trust with you.

As you sit on the floor across from one another, you hesitantly reach up to cradle his face in your bare hands. When you stop just shy of actually touching him, he smiles and grabs your hands to place on his face. Your eyes flicker orange and Bucky closes his eyes.

Swimming in the memories of Bucky Barnes, you struggle to find the memories of his captivity. Watching what he went through and all the electroshock therapy to condition his brain to certain words breaks your heart, and you take glee in grasping onto those memories and watching as they fade. You make sure to leave everything else in tact so he knows he was brainwashed to commit the crimes he did, but you completely erase the the words longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, and freight car every time they were mentioned in Russian along with every memory of the shocks to his mind.

It feels like you've been swimming in Bucky's mind for hours since you had to find every memory of when he woken from his cryo tank or when the words were said to him, like that one time he was held in captivity by the US government as he had warned you about, but you get it done. And when you finally open your eyes and settle your hands in your lap, Bucky's smile is from ear to ear.

That is until your eyes roll into the back of your head and you pass out.

When you eventually woke up from fixing Bucky, it was to find that you were in the medical wing. Apparently Bucky had freaked out and called for help, but he kept your secret and only told them that he had found you unconscious. The medical staff hadn't thought anything of Bucky's explanation, but the Avengers were suspicious. Thankfully, Bucky stuck to his story.

It was Tony who made the insinuation that something romantically was going on between you and your new friend, but when you were visibly upset and crying and defended Bucky as the older brother you never had, apologies were made and Pepper banned Tony from your room.

All you had needed was rest and food to get back on your feet, and when you felt better you got back into the groove of mediation and figuring your powers out.

Bucky seemed much more confident in himself that it started freaking people out, but Steve was just happy to have his friend back. Then when it seemed like things were going great, HYDRA made a surprise visit.

Everyone is congregated on the common floor for a family dinner and you are only waiting on Pepper. When half an hour passes, Tony gets frustrated and calls out for JARVIS to see where Pepper is at. Only.. JARVIS never answers.

Almost immediately everyone is on alert. Natasha and Clint pull out guns and knives from their hiding spots while Tony immediately starts tapping away on a small tablet.

"What's going on?" You ask, stepping around the table and coming next to Bucky and Steve.

"Nothing good," Steve says. "If JARVIS is down, someone is planning an attack."

"Goddammit," Tony grumbles. "Who the hell hacked my AI?!"

The elevator dings and everyone is on their feet and moving towards the center of the room. As they round the corner, there are several men in business suits marching onto the floor and using Pepper as a shield with a blade to her throat.

Tony immediately deploys gauntlets on just his arms, but the douche bag holding Pepper tuts at him, digging the blade harder into her throat. Weapons are raised all around and Bucky takes a protective stance in front of you.

"We're here for our asset," one of them says, his accent obviously Russian. "He comes with us and your CEO remains unharmed."

"Like hell," Steve mumbles, he taking a step in front of Bucky.

One of the Russians grins and starts citing the words all the Avengers feared. "Longing. Rusted."

Steve freezes. "No. Don't!"

Clint and Natasha raise their guns higher, but the enemies merely threaten Pepper's safety even more. Tony starts cursing, trying to be louder than the Russian words being said, but it's no use.

"Homecoming. One. Freight car."

Everyone goes quiet.

"Soldat?"

Natasha and Clint immediately swivel on the heel of their feet, aiming their weapons on Bucky now. But instead of the stoic Winter Soldier everyone was expecting, all they have is a chuckling Bucky Barnes. "That's Sarge to you, pal." The Russians lose their smug, victorious expressions and when you stealthily take Bucky's flesh hand into your own bare hand you mentally ask him, “want me to help?” Bucky glances down at you, ignoring everyone's baffled expressions and nods once. "If you're ready to show 'em what you're made of, have at it, kid."

Eyes blazing orange, you smile up at Bucky before darting your gaze to the Russians. Pepper's eyes widen, but for the time being you ignore it. Instead you concentrate on taking hold of the bad guys’ conscious minds all at once. "Drop your weapons." Weapons immediately drop and Pepper doesn't waste the moment. She drives her elbow into the face of the guy holding her and she lunges for Tony who readily puts himself in front of her. "Get down on your knees and put your hands in the air."

As the Russians all drop to their knees with their hands in the air, the Avengers and Pepper all stare at you in shock.

"What do I do with them?" You ask the room at large, keeping your concentration mostly on the bad guys.

"Y/N?"

"Not now, punk," Bucky says, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "There are more pressing matters at hand. All you need to know is that Y/N is one of the good ones. I'm proof of that."

"What?" Steve stares incredulously at Bucky, then at you. "You’re the reason the words didn’t work? How?"

"Stevie," Bucky chuckles. "Not now. What's the kid supposed to do with the bad guys."

Natasha steps forward, holstering her weapon. "If you can make it so it's easier to tie these guys up, I'd really appreciate it."

Concentrating on the men once more, you say one word. "Sleep." As the men fall unconscious, Clint whistles appreciatively before joining Natasha in tying them all up. "They'll wake up in a couple of hours," you say, eyes flickering back to their normal color.

After everything is said and done, Bucky leads you to the couches and gestures for to sit. You do and he takes a seat on the arm rest next to you, daring anyone to say anything negative.

The others approach cautiously.

"Buck?" Steve wonders. "Care to fill us in on what's going on?"

Under all the stares, you pick up your feet and bend your knees so you could hug your legs and make yourself as small as possible. "Not my story to tell, punk."

Every gaze lands on you and you sigh. "Way to throw me under the bus, loser." Bucky chuckles and ruffles your hair, and you swat at him with your bare hand. Everyone sees how freely you are touching now and once settled down you tell them. Everything.

When you're finished, everyone seems livid but are keeping a lid on their anger.

"But you can control it now. Right?" Clint asks. After Bucky, Clint was the other person you were worried about hating you.

"Mostly." You shrug. "I had to give myself a crash course. What I did earlier with those men? That was new, but the anger at them hurting Pepper made me hone it some. Before I had to touch someone to get them to do what I wanted. It's why I was grateful for all the gloves Pepper got me."

"You touch Bucky now though," Natasha says. "Without the gloves."

"If I concentrate, I can block it out," you say while letting the back of your hand touch the flesh of Bucky's arm. "I only got comfortable without the gloves around Bucky because I saw a lot when I erased the conditioning words. If I slip, Bucky says it's okay." Bucky smiles down at you and when you look back out to everyone else, your own smile falters. "I'll continue to wear the gloves until I completely have a lid on it. I don't want you guys to be nervous around me."

The room falls silent and your heart sinks. You'd spent a couple of months with these people and you were good with them, but now.. now not so much.

Just when the tension really feels suffocating, Steve stands and makes his way towards you. Without hesitation, he holds his hand out as if waiting to shake yours. Bucky nudges you and you reach forward, concentrating on not slipping into Steve's mind when the two of you grasp hands.

"It's okay," he says.

Your bottom lip wobbles and you momentarily lose control, your eyes flickering orange. Steve grins and you wipe at your eyes with your other hand. You're pretty sure your voice will crack if you attempt to talk, so you do the only thing you can think of. You push your thought into Steve's mind. Thank you.

Steve chuckles. "No problem, kid."

As Steve steps aside, Pepper is next. She completely bypasses a handshake and reaches down to hug you, and you cry as you return her embrace, ignoring the flashes of her memories that quickly pop up.

"You're too young to know what's going on up here," Tony says, tapping his temple when Pepper steps away. "I'll keep my distance for now, but welcome to the team. You are going to join the team. Right?"

"A secret organization within the government is trying to kill me, Mr. Stark. I'll be stuck in this tower for quite some time that you might as well start calling me Rapunzel."

Bruce quietly groans. "Please don't encourage his nicknames."

You chuckle wetly, nodding when Bruce smiles at you while keeping his distance. Then glancing at Natasha and Clint, you smile sadly. "I don't expect the two of you to be comfortable with me, so I'll be sure to wear gloves around you." Natasha nods and Clint sheepishly smiles. "It's okay, Barton. I figured you and Bucky were going to be the ones most wary of me. It's no biggie."

"It's just-"

"No explanations. I understand."

He opens his mouth to retort, but Natasha elbows him. "Shut up, Clint. She knows. Walk away on good terms and go call Fury so he can send a team to pick up the HYDRA men."

Everyone is suddenly moving and finding something to do, but Bucky stays by your side. When they're a good distance away, he nudges you again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you say. "I think I'm going to be just fine."

Inspired by The Darkest Minds. I fell in love with that movie!

[remywrites5]

Hey I love your stories and kept reading older ones for the whole weekend. Could you by any means if you have time write a fluffy get together story with either Jegulus or Spideypool? Maybe something from the fake exes prompt list that I cant find anymore? Thank you so much for all the cuteness you're delivering with your stories! ❤

You’re very welcome! Glad you like them and thanks for prompting me!

           Peter groaned internally as he noticed MJ making a beeline for him across campus. If there were less people around he would have made a quick getaway, but since there were endless amounts of people milling about, Peter was stuck.

           He knew what this was about before MJ even opened her mouth. They’d broken up over a year ago, and while MJ was happily dating a girl named Gwen from her Women’s Studies class, Peter had yet to move on. It wasn’t like he was still pining after MJ because their split had been amicable, since Peter was a bit busy with his first year at NYU and being Spider-man. It was hard to find time to meet anyone new and besides there was the pain of keeping his secret from someone.

           “Peter,” she said, plopping down across from him. “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

           Peter couldn’t help smiling despite himself. It was something he’d always liked about MJ, her blunt honest approach to things. “Come on, MJ,” he said, rolling his eyes.

           “Peter,” she said sternly, not giving him an inch to wiggle out of this conversation.

           Peter sighed heavily. “I went out on a date last night actually but nothing came of it, so…” Peter shrugged and buried his face in his chemistry book.

           “With who?” MJ asked, raising an eyebrow at him, putting a hand on his book and forcing him to lower it. 

           Peter scrambled for a minute to think of a name, any name to get her off his back. It shouldn’t have been so difficult to come up with someone believable. Instead he grabbed at the only name he could think of sitting in the dark recess of his mind. “It was Wade Wilson.”

           “Deadpool?” MJ said, her nose crinkling. “Seriously?”

           “What?” Peter asked defensively. Fuck, he should have just made up someone. This was going to get him into so much trouble. In the past few years, Peter and Wade had struck up something almost like a friendship. And although he’d never told anyone this, he’d spent an alarming amount of time thinking about the Merc in ways he probably shouldn’t have. Like Peter, it wasn’t like Wade’s suit left much up to the imagination and damn all those muscles. His shoulder to hip ratio was nearly as impressive as Captain America’s. And sure, Peter had seen what was under the mask and it wasn’t exactly pretty but it was fascinating in a way Peter couldn’t really explain.

           “I’m sorry, Peter, it’s just a little difficult to picture,” MJ said, chuckling. “Why didn’t thinks work out?”

           Peter hated himself for lying to her. Now his lies were snowballing and there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was continue to tell fibs. “He, uh…he wanted to go a little faster than I did.”

           MJ frowned. “He didn’t take things too far, did he?”

           “What?” Peter asked, his jaw dropping when he realized what she was implying. “No, of course not!”

           “Okay, good,” MJ said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Why don’t we give him a call?”

           “No!” Peter said, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t…I don’t want to embarrass myself any further than I probably already have.”

           MJ reached out and took Peter’s hand in hers. “Peter, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Now hand me your phone. I’m assuming you have his number?”

           “Yes,” Peter said dejectedly, handing over his phone to her, knowing better than to argue. She typed in the code from memory and Peter made a mental note to change his passcode. She scrolled through until she found Wade’s number.

           Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up, Peter silently prayed. The last thing he needed was Wade answering the phone and telling MJ he had no idea what she was talking about.

           “Baby boy!” Wade said, answering the phone after the third ring. Peter cringed as his stomach fell out his ass with dread. “This is a pleasant surprise!”

           MJ gave him a look at the pet name. Maybe she just didn’t know that was what Wade was like. “Actually this is his friend, MJ?”

           “Everything kosher?” Wade asked sounding slightly concerned. Peter was thankful for his super hearing so he could listen in on Wade’s side of the conversation.

           “Yeah,” MJ told him while grinning at Peter. “Peter’s fine. He told me you two went out on date last night.”

           Peter held his breath.

           “And what, you’d like all the details you saucy little minx?”

           Peter struggled to hide his complete and utter shock. Wade was actually playing along with this? Why? How?

           “Peter said it didn’t work out,” MJ informed him. “Because you were pushing him into a physical relationship.”

           “Oh, was that why he bolted?” Wade asked. Peter had to admire his performance. For a moment he actually believed they’d been on a date the night before too. “I would never have done anything my baby boy didn’t want.”

           “I’m glad to hear that,” MJ told him. “If you get a second chance please take good care of Peter, okay? I promise he’s worth the wait.”

           Peter felt himself blush furiously.

           “Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

           “Do you want to speak to Peter?”

           Peter waved his hands around signaling that no, he absolutely did not want to talk to Wade. Instead he had his phone pushed into his hands and with trepidation he brought it up to his ear. “Hi Wade.”

           “Petey, I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m pretty sure you owe me.”

           Peter rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I think so too.” He risked a glance over at MJ who was nodding encouragingly at him.

           “My place tonight,” Wade said, the grin evident in his voice. “Eight O’clock. Wear something sexy. Just kidding, you look sexy in anything.”

           “Wade, I – “

    ��      Before Peter could protest, Wade had hung up the phone. Peter closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening them again.

           “See!” MJ said, looking smug. “You get a second shot. No point in putting him in the exes pile after one lousy date. You have to give people a chance, Peter.”

           “Yeah,” Peter said, looking down at his phone and wondering how he’d ended up so utterly screwed.

                                                           ***

           Peter got to Wade’s apartment in the Bronx by 7:55. He figured he might as well be punctual since he couldn’t sit at home dreading this night for another single second. He rapped his knuckles on the door and waited.

           Deadpool opened the door and grinned. “Hi Petey,” he said, stepping back and letting Peter enter the apartment. The place was a fucking mess, bullets scattered around, empty pizza boxes, Taco Bell wrappers, used cups on the coffee table. Wade Wilson, it seemed, lived like a god damn Ninja Turtle. 

           “Couldn’t manage to clean up a little?” Peter teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

           Wade shrugged. “Wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”

           Peter actually felt a bit bad about that. He knew Wade had asked him to hang out before and Peter had bailed on him several times. In his defense though, it was usually either school or Spider-man related. You just never knew when a bad guy was going to rob a bank or kidnap your Aunt.

           “I want to thank you for playing along today,” Peter told him, scratching his cheek nervously. “MJ means well but she has a tendency to overstep. It’s probably how she found out I was Spider-man so quick.”

           “No need to thank me, Petey,” Wade told him as he went around the room and started to clean up. “You’d do the same for me if any of my exes were butting into my personal life. The next time Nathan shows his ugly mug in this timeline I’m expecting you to answer the call.”

           Peter laughed. “It’s a deal,” he promised.

           They fell into a companionable silence as they tidied up the room a little bit. Once all the trash was away and the bullets found their way back into the boxes they’d come out of, Peter and Wade made themselves comfortable on the couch. Wade put on some rom-com from the 90’s but Peter made him switch it because the main characters looked like Mr. Stark and his Aunt May and that was just too unsettling. Instead they put on The Breakfast Club with Wade doing the “No dad what about you” speech verbatim with the film.

           “You’re a dork,” Peter mocked, playfully kicking Wade with his foot.

           Wade grinned at him. “You’re just jealous.”

           Peter laughed. “Extremely.”

           It was a surprisingly fun evening and Peter enjoyed not having to study or fight crime, he could just sit with Wade and be. It was a rare thing these days to just be able to take a night off. Being around Wade was relaxing and fun, both of them talking a bunch of shit throughout the film since they’d each seen it plenty of times.

           It was a rare thing to see Wade outside the suit and Peter was enjoying all the different facial expressions he’d missed when Wade wore the mask. All the subtle little smiles and facial ticks that he normally wouldn’t have been privy too were almost intoxicating to behold. Peter found himself categorizing them all, which meant he spent more time than he probably should staring at Wade.

           By the time the movie was over, Peter had his feet nestled under Wade’s thigh with Wade’s hand on his leg, rubbing it absentmindedly. They both stretched and Wade did a comical yawn. “So, will there be more fake dates or are you going to come up with another reason why we shouldn’t be together?”

           Peter balked at him for a moment. “I-I…” Peter’s words fell flat, as he had no idea what to say in response.

           “Don’t worry about it, Petey,” Wade said, letting him off the hook. He stood up and started to walk away. Without thinking, Peter shot out a web and hauled Wade back until Wade landed unceremoniously in top of him. “Petey?” he said in surprise, his eyes searching Peter’s, his hands bracketing either side of Peter’s head.

           Peter swallowed thickly. “Maybe I don’t wanna play pretend,” he whispered quietly.

           “This doesn’t have to be anything, Peter,” Wade murmured, still giving Peter an out if he wanted it.

           Peter was more than a little shocked to find he didn’t.

           “Wade if you don’t fucking kiss me soon I’m going to have MJ call you again and give you a stern talking to,” Peter growled, wrapping his legs around Wade to lock him in place.

           “Oh god, anything but that!” Wade said, feigning terror as he tried not to smile.

           “Well?” Peter asked, looking up at Wade expectantly.

           “Baby boy, you don’t gotta tell me twice,” Wade said, lowering himself down and capturing Peter’s lips in a kiss that was downright Earth shattering. “Not going too fast for you, am I, Petey?” Wade asked him tauntingly. “Wouldn’t want to blow this again.”

           Peter couldn’t even find it in him to be annoyed by the jibe. “M’good,” he said, feeling better than he had in a long time, having the comfortable weight of Wade on top of him. “Kiss me again.”

           “Bossy,” Wade chided but complied.

           Peter started a new list in his mind, categorizing all the different wonderful and devastating ways Wade W. Wilson could kiss him. He was looking forward to continuing the list on his next date.

[anna-mator]

How to Draw a Toon - (In-Progress) Fandom: Warner Bros, Looney Tunes, Disney, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Rating: M Categories: M/M  Relationships: (eventual) Bugs/Daffy  Warnings: Language, moderate violence, cartoon violence, racism, Additional tags: friends to lovers, mystery, adventure

Somewhere in Toon Town, a rabbit sat uncomfortably in the only library in town. He was pouring over autobiographies of other Toons. Each chapter of every book began the same: humble beginnings with a chance of stardom. Most were poor, some were sheltered… every single one was literally drawn into their lives. Their family, their class, their religion, their politics; it seemed to be all predetermined. Whether it was intentional from the creator, or heavily influenced, he still wasn’t sure. 

“Bugs?” A small voice spoke.

Bugs Bunny jolted, placing his hands over the piles of books he collected on instinct. He quickly regained his posture and settled his eyes on a soft-colored and familiar face. “Belle?” He asked, shocked.

Belle was hovering over him slightly with a few books in hand. “It is you… Did you need any help, Bugs?” She asked politely. 

“Oh ehh… nah.” Bugs said, trying to keep some of the books from her view. “I’m all good here. Say ehhh… shouldn’t you be at like…. Disneyland or somethin’?” he asked.

At that, Belle laughed slightly. “Oh Bugs… just because I’m a Disney princess doesn’t mean they keep us all holed up in their theme parks. Plus, with all of the royalty checks, I don’t really need a job. I volunteer here.”

“Ah. I see. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Not at all…” Belle said, then looked curiously at Bugs’ pile of books. “It looks like you’re about to check out the entirety of the Autobiography section.” She chuckled.

“Ahaha… just about.” Bugs said, suddenly feeling slightly nervous about her nosiness.

 “All of them are Toons, too…” 

Just then, Bugs had an idea. “Ah!” He exclaimed before he stood up and gently turned her away from his pile of books, “Actually, I’ve been watchin’ some kids recently and wouldn’t ya know it, I can hardly put ‘em to bed. If you could find me the very best fairy-tale book you can think of, I would be foreva in your debt.” 

“Uh, sure.” Belle said with a weary tone. 

Bugs didn’t like the sound of her voice. Once he believed Belle was out of earshot, he scrambled to gather his haphazard notes and supplies. “I gotta get outta here.” He said from under his strained breath. 

When Bugs placed things away, he turned tail to find the closest exit. The rabbit managed to slip through a back door completely unnoticed. He found his car and sped off in a hurry. This kind of prodding had consequences. He had heard rumors of Toons going missing over stuff like this. Luckily, Bugs was smarter than that. 

In truth, Bugs trusted no Toon nor Human with the kind of information he was gathering. It was starting to weigh on his conscience, and even take a blow to his general health. Typically, when a Toon became stressed it visibly showed. Bugs was no exception.

Which was why an hour later, with no one else to turn to, Steven Spielberg took a look at Bugs and simply said, “God you’re a mess.” He commented once he approached the Toon rabbit.

“Thanks, Doc.” Bugs said with a slight roll to his eyes. “You looked in the mirror lately, yourself?” He japed, commenting on the distracting and ugly anti-paparazzi gear Steven had on.

Deciding to ignore the comment, “Please tell me it’s not…” Steven asked, as he brought his shades onto the brim of his baseball hat.

“It’s not the kids. I can take care of ‘em jus’ fine.” Bugs shot Steven down immediately. 

They walked down the sunny L.A. street, headed towards Griffith Park. They were both well aware it was the entrance to Toon Town. Still, the park itself was the only place that provided Bugs with any comfort. 

“So… what did you bring me out here for?” Steven asked. 

It took every ounce of energy Bugs had not to just start spouting out every tiny piece of information he had been gathering for the past six months. Instead, he took a breath and exhaled softly. “I’m over eighty years-old, mac. I’ve been repainted a dozen times and there’s no end in sight.”

Immediately, Steven knew exactly what Bugs was dealing with. It was obviously some kind of mid-life crisis, but a Toon equivalent. “Go on…” He prompted.

“So a few months ago, I got ta thinkin’... What else am I gonna do with my life? I can’t be slingin’ dynamite foreva. I already toured the world when I was younger… but I never learned anything!” Bugs cried out, “Sure the occasional script had some kind of historical tidbit, or a line from another language, but I still felt… uneducated.” 

Steven was already connecting certain dots in his head, leading up to what Bugs wanted to say. Because of it, a small smile was beginning to inch onto his face. However, he continued to let the Toon speak.

“Then I realized… what if it ain’t just me? And as it turns out--” 

“Eighty-seven percent of Toons are uneducated.” Steven finished and the smile vanished, ”And the number keeps growing every year. There isn’t a single school in Toon Town. If Toons want an education, they acquire it themselves or through scholarships the studios award.”

Bugs and Steven stopped and looked at one another. “I came to you nearly a decade ago... “ Steven started, feeling slightly irritated at Bugs.

Immediately Bugs cringed, “I know, I know!” he shouted, starting to move away from him. While he wanted to tell Steven more about his findings about Toon education, he decided to keep his mouth shut. Paranoia struck him again.

Still, Steven gave a small chase. “I asked repeatedly if you wanted to make Acme Loo into a real school, and you said there was no need. I gave you my pitch all those years ago, now give me yours.” He said in a harsh tone.

Bugs tugged on his ears before looking at Steven in the eyes again. “People love me, Toons idolize me… but for what? Bein’ the lucky one? Always comin’ out on top? What good is that when you can’t protect the ones you care about? I just… I want to give somethin’ back’.” 

After hearing that, Steven was more than pleased. He gave a nod to Bugs, “Alright, I’ll help you. We’ll make Acme Loo.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” There was still so much on Bugs’ mind, but he tucked it away for later. Right now, he allowed himself to relax and feel good about these life-changing decisions. 

A year passes, and somewhere along the coast of Central America there was a lowly island on the horizon. With a closer look, anyone could see the stark-white mansion that stood nearly three stories tall.

Even as a young Toon, Daffy Duck had pictured his retirement from his acting career very vividly. He dreamed about being alone on a private island, with an enormous mansion and every luxury he could possibly think of. And wouldn’t you know it, after nearly a decade of work, few movies and a couple of reboots, Daffy had that private island. Staying there continued to be a blessing for many, many years. With the royalty checks and occasional paychecks from public appearances rolling in, he was able to upkeep the mansion very well. 

Daffy’s desire for attention was somewhat satiated by social media. He had a big presence online and made sure everyone knew it. From when he woke up to when he was preparing for bed, he would cross post about every detail onto every feed. People ate it up, as they were fascinated by his lifestyle. While he wasn’t the richest duck in the world, he was certainly one of the most popular. At least, he was in his mind. 

As Daffy was tweeting about his incredible breakfast one morning, he noticed one of his butlers carrying in some mail. “What’s the big idea? Checks go straight to my financial adviser, and fan mail without any valuables inside are shredded! You all know the deal!” Daffy barked. To his knowledge, he hadn’t been expecting anything either. Still, the butler came to his side and silently handed him a letter. 

Before he could protest further, the Butler turned away. Daffy simply huffed to himself and opened the letter. He took his time to read it, just to make sure he was reading it correctly. Once he had finished he slammed the letter onto the counter top, and ran up the stairs towards his room in seconds flat. 

He pressed his help buzzer multiple times and shouted into the speaker, “I need to pack, now! Book me a flight to L.A.! Let’s go people!”

It was time to move back to Los Angeles. 

The next day, Bugs Bunny got out of his Oober (Toon Town’s Uber equivalent), adjusting his suit as he looked on towards his greatest accomplishment. A stairway from the curb stood Acme Looniversity. Despite seeing the building many times over the course of its production, Bugs still couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at the sight of the finished school. 

And there, in front of the entrance, he saw a huge crowd gather. This wasn’t even taking into account for all of the cameras and people lined up along the sidewalk. Not even the Toons who were celebrating in the streets. The crowd split like a wave as Bugs approached the doorway of the school, finding it partially blocked by a stage with a ceremonial ribbon. Bugs could tell it was painted because of how large and neat the bow in the middle of it looked. 

As he approached he saw the only human at the event (besides a few brave reporters) Steven Spielberg, sitting beside the podium on stage next to three empty seats. Bugs’ felt slightly saddened by the sight of the empty chairs, still Bugs shared a smile with Steven before he approached the podium. A deafening silence went over the crowd, with all eyes on the Toon rabbit.

“My fellow Toons,” Bugs began, “For too long, we’ve been deprived of our own education. More than 87% of Toons have never stepped foot in a school that wasn’t a painted set. After learnin’ that, we decided that wasn’t fair.”

The crowd cheered and clapped for Bugs. Over the crowd he continued, “Our newcomers should know our history! They should know our culture!” He paused slightly to wait for the crowd’s enthusiasm to die down, “And they should know their limits.” 

Bugs felt his stomach twist, “Too many Toons have been lost simply because they didn’t know how to survive their next fall durin’ a stunt. We owe it to them to inform newcomers of the risks. No one on Earth can do what we do, and we need to learn to do it right.” 

Gesturing to the building behind him, “Now, thanks to Warner Brothers studios and Steven Spielberg, Acme Looniversity ain’t just a fantasy we all saw on TV all those years ago. It’s here for everyone!” 

The crowd once again burst into applause and cheers. Bugs looked out into the crowd, noticing a slight disturbance that was making its way to the stage. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Daffy Duck emerged from the crowd and began to crawl his way onto the stage, rather than using the stairs on the side.

Immediately, Daffy wormed his way in front of Bugs in order to speak into the microphone. “Helloooo, Toon Town!!” He shouted. The only sound he was met with was the sound of crickets. “As the Master of Deception, I just wanted to say what an honor it is to have been recruited by my longtime co-Star, Bugs, to teach at this wonderful place of edumication.” 

Bugs saw the shifty eyes from the crowd when Daffy had mentioned his unofficial title. “Eeeh… We’re still workin’ on the curriculum.” He said, addressing the crowd. Then he turned to Daffy, knowing exactly how to derail him from hogging the spotlight. “Hey Daff, ol’ pal, wouldja wanna join me in the honors of cuttin’ the ribbon?” 

Daffy’s head whirled around as he gave out a gasp, “Really? You’d let me cut the ribbon?” He asked. 

“Togetha, yeah. It feels only right.” Bugs said, just to butter him up even more. 

The two of them were approached by a Toon who held out comically huge a pair of golden scissors. They took the scissors, holding them open above the ribbon for a little longer so photos could be taken. After a minute, they looked at each other and cut the ceremonial ribbon. Daffy and Bugs posed briefly with the scissors that were nearly the same height as them. 

Once they were done posing, Daffy turned to look for the first camera he could find. For Bugs, he turned to Steven and gave him his hand. “Thank you… So much. For everything.” 

Steven shook his hand, “Anytime, Bugs. I have a lot of faith in you.” Then he gave a slight nod towards Daffy, “You sure about hiring Daffy, though?” He asked. 

Bugs looked over and watched as Daffy chatted up the remaining reporters. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in the years we've worked together, it’s that I know how he ticks.” 

“Well, it’s your call. It is your school, after all.” Steven said with a shrug. 

“I’m gonna go check on ‘im. I’ll be seein’ ya, Steven.” Bugs said before slipping away. 

Bugs hovered over Daffy’s shoulder while he spoke to a reporter. “And that’s when I told my buddy Bugs, the only way we’re going to reach today's Toon youth is through education! And what better teachers than the oldest Toons out there?” He said. 

When he heard that, Bugs rolled his eyes. Of course Daffy would lie and make this his idea. Bugs decided to butt in. “We’re opening our gates to humans, as well.” He told them. 

At that, more reporters surrounded them. A chorus of questions were being launched at Daffy and Bugs. While Daffy shied away, Bugs lifted his hands to quiet the small crowd. “I wanna stress this; Acme Loo is gonna be the only school to focus on the importance of learning about Toons. As citizens and as a species. So we ain’t gonna turn away humans who wanna learn more about us.” Bugs said. 

A reporter’s voice spoke up, “Who else do you have in place as teachers? Any word about Mickey Mouse?” they asked.

“That hack—?” Daffy said before Bugs pinched his beak. 

“Mickey sent us his best wishes, but regrettably makes no plans of joinin’ the staff.” Bugs said with a shrug.

Daffy rolled his eyes when he felt Bugs let go of his beak. 

“As for the rest of the staff, we’re still lookin’. So if any Toon wants to come forward and apply, they’re free to do so on our website.”

“When does class begin? And what’s the class size going to look like?” The same reporter asked.

“We’re startin’ in the next coupla months, just in time for the school year. Dependin’ on how many teachers we get, we’re gonna be expecting anywhere between 500 to 900. Applications for students will also be online.”

“900?!” Daffy exclaimed. Just how was he going to teach to a class of 900? 

Bugs sighed a little, knowing Daffy had misinterpreted his information. He turned to talk to him, “900 altogetha, Daff. We’re lookin’ at a class of 40 for each homeroom.” 

“Oh.” Daffy said softly. 

Then Bugs turned to the cameras, “No more questions now. Thank you!” He said and waved them away. 

Disappointed, Daffy watched the reporters shuffle along and pack away their equipment. He had truly missed being in the limelight. Then a tap on his shoulder brought him out of his daydream-like state. “Huh?” He asked as he turned towards Bugs again.

“Ehh… Daff?”

“Yeah?” 

Bugs sat there like he was fighting to say something. “I’ll uh… I’ll see you later. We’ll have to look over that curriculum of yours, before school starts.” He finally said.

“...Yeah sure.” Daffy said. After looking at Bugs more he noticed something was off, “You should get yourself a new paint job. You look awful.” 

Bugs deflated angrily at the comment before rolling his eyes and turning away. He knew that, in Daffy’s twisted way, that he was concerned for his health. So he let the comment slide off of his back. The truth was, Bugs had never let go of his Toon research; and the paranoia had set in so much that it was starting to alter his appearance. He hoped that the success of Acme Loo would be both a distraction and a resource at his own disposal. 

Later, after numerous phone calls and even a couple of live interviews, Bugs managed to find his way home. He paid and tipped his Oober as much as he was allotted, due to the fact that they had to travel out of Toon Town during rush hour. As Bugs approached the steps of his white porch, he loosened his bow tie and unlocked the door. 

Bugs threw his keys on a stand next to the door, just before closing and locking it behind himself. Just as he was about to call out for someone, his long ears perked at the sound of rattling glass and plastic coming from the kitchen. Immediately, Bugs’ eyes darted towards a lowly baseball bat sitting in his umbrella holder in the foyer. 

Quickly and quietly, Bugs’ removed his black blazer and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves. All the while his mind was racing: Where had he slipped up? Who was onto him? What kind of force would be pitted against him? All these questions burned inside him while he picked up the bat and held it tight and high. With as much stealth as possible, he rounded the kitchen corner. As he suspected, the figure hidden partially inside of his fridge wasn’t any of the kids. 

The fridge began to close and the figure swerved around to meet Bugs. Several plastic containers dropped to the kitchen floor as they exclaimed, “Bugs?!”

Bugs brought down the bat, stopping it only inches away from Daffy’s beak. “Daffy?!” He exclaimed. 

“What the hell, Bugs? Is that any way to welcome an old friend into your household?” Daffy barked while pushing the bat away from his face. 

Only a few seconds later, Bugs and Daffy heard a stampede of footsteps coming from upstairs. Settling on the staircase, three Toons looked down on Bugs and Daffy. “Well what’d ya know, the old Duck has decided to grace us with his presence.” The tallest smiled. 

“Daffy, darling!! We had no idea you were in town.” The smallest chimed with an obnoxious accent of some kind.

“Really? I mean, he tweeted out his entire trip…” The middle one said in a thick Liverpool accent. 

Daffy looked on in surprise and awe. “The Warner’s?! What are you three hooligans doing here?” He asked with a wide smile. 

Bugs put down the bat, leaning it against the staircase, and turned towards Daffy. “They’re stayin’ with me.” He said simply. 

Sure enough, the three siblings of undetermined origins ran down the steps and gave Daffy a group hug. “You three look a little different than I remember…” he said, looking over Yakko, Wakko and Dot. 

Yakko peeled away first, “Haven’t ya heard? We got a reboot comin’ in! Two whole seasons, so far.” 

“You don’t say? An’ they gave you a repaint jus’ for that? Your designs were fine before.” Daffy said, a little confused. 

“It’s standard now. Nothin’ we could really do about it.” Wakko said as he pulled away with a slight shrug.

Dot continued to cling to Daffy, looking up at him with her glossy black eyes. “You don’t think we look ugly, do you?” She asked, her lips trembling. 

“Ugly?! Nonsense!!” Daffy exclaimed, picking up Dot into his arms and holding her tight. “You three are the sharpest lookin’ Toons I know. Anyone who says otherwise is blind.” 

Bugs looked curiously at the way Daffy was interacting with the three. He didn’t remember them being particularly close, but he assumed that was simply the effect the three had on adults and Toons alike. Still, he was certainly enjoying seeing this other side of Daffy.  

“Alright, you three.” Bugs finally interrupted, “How’s about givin’ Daff and I some space?” He asked. 

“Yeah yeah…” Yakko said before turning back up the stairs. 

“See ya later, Daffy!” Wakko waved and followed the oldest. 

“Always nice to see you, Daff.” Dot said when Daffy put her down so she could follow her siblings. 

Once the three were out of sight Daffy turned to Bugs, “Now, I know it might not be the most convenient thing for you at this time…” He explained, “But I’m certainly not the richest Duck in the world. I had to sell all eight of my estates to get that private island.” 

Bugs move towards the kitchen and began to clean up Daffy’s initial mess. He already knew what Daffy was about to ask, and he already knew his answer. Still, he let his friend speak. 

“Each estate had to go, including the two I had in L.A.! Honestly, the price for rent in this forsaken city is so damn high, I really don’t know how you do it!”

“You can stay.” 

Daffy gasped and looked deeply offended, “You would throw out your own flesh and blood onto the street? I thought I knew you better, Bugs Bunny!” 

“Ehh… we ain’t related, but you can still stay wit us.” He tried again. 

Daffy started to walk towards the door with a dramatic flair, “Fine! I know when I’m not wanted—” He stopped as soon as he draped himself on the corner of the closest wall, “Wait… what? You’ll let me stay?” He asked, bewildered. 

“Of course I will, Daff. We’ll be able to look over your curriculum togetha, you’ll be able to do some shoppin’ for the house, maybe a few chores and you’ll be able to watch the kids…” Bugs said, closing the fridge door to get a better look at Daffy.

At that, Daffy looked even more surprised. “Watch those kids? Chores? Me?” He asked.

“Well yeah! What? You’d think I’d let you stay out of the goodness of my heart?” Bugs asked, leaning on the island counter.

“Well… Yeah!” Daffy exclaimed, manhandling the other side of the counter. Here he thought he could take advantage of Bugs’ feelings of existentialism and sudden generosity to fully weasel his way into staying with Bugs with zero obligations. But apparently this rabbit had other plans for him.

Bugs simply laughed in Daffy’s face. “Ahaha, oh that’s rich, Duck.” he laughed. Then there was a slight pause,  “When are you gonna realize, we ain’t so different? You and I…”

Daffy and Bugs sat in silence for a little bit. Something about Bugs’ smug look made Daffy’s face feel warmer than usual underneath his feathers. He shook his head wildly. “Nope. I don’t see it.”

At that, Bugs simply rolled his eyes. “We can split chores in the mornin’... right now I just want to hit da hay.” He said, peeling himself off of the counter and moving to unbutton his dress shirt.

While Bugs navigated past the living room, Daffy gave a slight chase. “Wait, wait. I just gotta know one more thing,” then a slight pause, “okay a couple of things.” 

A small sigh came from Bugs, then he decided to plop down onto the living room sofa. “Alright. A coupla questions.” He said, putting his feet up.

Daffy sat in a recliner adjacent to Bugs. “How’d you end up with the Warners?” He asked, his voice a little hushed in case they were being heard. 

“...I was visiting the new set last year.” Bugs began to explain, “Steven told me that he was concerned about rumors that the Warners were livin’ in their trailer. No one was allowed to go near it. They even wrote up a contract about it, saying they’d leave the show if anyone on staff visited it. Because I wasn’t in the show, I could see the trailer for myself.” 

The memory was still vivid in Bugs’ mind. A little more than a year ago, Bugs shared a weary glance with Steven before he slipped off the set. With the Warners busy in a scene, Bugs was able to make it to the trailer. And with a copy of the trailer key given to him by Steven, he pried it open. 

The mess the three had accumulated was even taller than Bugs’ ears. He honestly didn’t know how anyone could navigate the trailer, let alone three Toons. Even as he was inside, he made an attempt to clean what he could. Still, it was a horrible mess. 

After doing what he could, Bugs waited outside the trailer until the Warners began to approach it. Yakko was the first to catch eyes with Bugs, before rolling them. “God damn it…” Yakko groaned, seeing the look of disapproval spread across the rabbit’s face. 

“Y’all really live in dere?” Bugs asked.

It was Wakko’s turn to be angry, “Yeah! What’s it to ya?” he barked.

“Guys, I’m jus’ concerned. A lot of the staff are concerned. Steven was even worried!” Bugs exclaimed, watching them weave around him and head into the trailer.

“Yeah? Well we don’t need your pity.” Dot snapped.

Bugs stopped the door from being slammed in his face with full force. The trailer door swung open and Bugs stepped inside once more. “Fine then. Lemme give you a place to stay. Eva since you were created, I’ve always told you guys you were welcome at my house!” He said. 

“We’ve been fine on our own, Bugs. Didn’t need your help then, don’t need it now.” Yakko said. “Any day now, the show will air, we’ll get another wave of royalty checks and we’ll be livin’ it up in a mansion down the street from yours.” 

“Those checks will only stretch so far. You already know this.” Bugs warned. 

“Blah blah blah I learned my lesson. Like I said, I don’t need to stay at yours. I’m comfortable here.” To make his point, Yakko cleared off some space on the couch (which also acted as their bed) in the trailer and found his ideal position. 

Immediately Bugs read this type of prideful attitude. He also knew where Yakko’s weak points were. “If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for your siblings.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bugs saw Dot and Wakko perk up and look over at Yakko silently. Yakko sat up from the couch slowly and looked at Bugs with a hardened expression. “You’ve got a whole lotta nerve, rabbit.”

“And you’ve got a whole lotta attitude, kid.” Bugs snapped back. 

And with that, Bugs took them in. Presently, he looked at Daffy across the way and gave a slight shrug. “I’ve always seen a lot of myself in Yakko. Scrappy, independent and plenty mature for his age. It took him the longest to adjust here and for me to adjust to him, honestly. That boy doesn’t let me lift a finger for ‘im. His siblings? Sure. When it comes to him? No way, no how.” 

“Interesting.” Daffy finally said.

Feeling exhausted, “Any otha questions?” Bugs asked.

“Yes! Where do I sleep?” 

Bugs got up from the couch and beckoned Daffy to follow him. Down the hall there were three doors. On the left side there was a white door with a gold star labeled Bugs Bunny in black lettering. Though, something told Daffy that it wasn’t his original master bedroom. The middle door was left open, so Bugs pushed in further and flipped on a light to reveal a bathroom. “Here’s the bathroom…” he announced, then pushed open the door on the right side of the hallway. “And here’s your room. G’night, Daff…” 

Before Daffy could say anything else, Bugs slipped away into his bedroom and shut the door. “Night.” Daffy said more to himself. He maneuvered himself inside the bedroom and pulled out a suitcase from his Toon space. He flicked on the light and looked around, the decor was still predominantly white with the same hardwood floor that echoed through the house.

Daffy placed his suitcase on a chair sitting across from the bed and launched himself directly onto the comfortable mattress. It was something akin to a bed from a five-star hotel: soft as a cloud. It didn’t take long for Daffy to fall into a deep sleep.

----

NEXT CHAPTER >>

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! It was a struggle but I’m happy with it and I can’t wait to continue. <3333

[irondadgroupie]

Chaperone or Mentor (Job’s Still Same)

A/N: Another sickfic. I have always been fascinated with the concept of Tony being a chaperone on Peter’s field trip. Avoids usual tropes, just some Irondad Interaction. 

“How did I talk you into this?”

Tony, who was leaning his elbow against the bus window, casting absentminded glances at the scenery, turned to the boy and shrugged : “You did not need to. I had been thinking about checking the exhibition myself.”

“I bet chaperoning high schoolers was not a part of the plan,” Peter still could not believe his luck. His science class was going to the Animal Body Worlds exhibition and he had asked Mr Stark to be a chaperone, they had to have a ratio of one adult to three kids. To his great shock, Tony had thought about the idea for five seconds and then agreed.

“Hey, they pay for the ticket, I am not saying no to free stuff,” The man said like it was the most logical sentence in the world.

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“You are a billionaire and can’t fork out twenty bucks for your own pocket?”

“As I said-“

“You could fucking rent out the entire place!”

“Peter, watch the language,” Tony growled and pulled at the kid’s hair. It did not hurt, he would never do so intentionally, but the boy winced nonetheless. “This is why I have to sit with you, so you don’t corrupt everyone else.”

During the entire ride, Tony debated whether it had been a wise decision to take the bus. Yes, he had wanted to talk to the biology teacher about the technicalities about the trip and made sure Peter was sorted into his group. Maybe it was overly cautious but he did not trust any of the other adults with his kid. His enhanced, moronic, self-sacrificing kid.

But by God were the other children noisy! Peter was sitting next to him, nice and quiet aside from occasional chattering with Ned who was sitting behind them.

“Teletubbies!” He turned to the crowd at the back of the bus, addressing them with the cartoon show he hated more than anything. “You have healthy young ears, no need to destroy them prematurely.”

The kids shut up immediately, casting wary glances at the man. Tony sat back down and looked ahead. He had not ridden  bus in years and got a reminder why he preferred cars to public transport. His inner ear was failing and he fished out a piece of gum to combat the rising nausea. Liquorice, Peter could not stand peppermint, and he offered both Peter and Ned one each.

“How can you boys play on your phones?” He shook his head and sighed.

“We’re young,” Peter shrugged but looked at his mentor with concern. “It’s only five minutes more, Mr Stark.”

The man waved a hand : “Don’t worry about me, kid. You will be throwing up before  me.”

“I don’t feel sick.”

Tony grinned and shook his head at the innocent remark.

They arrived at the Science Museum, the kids left the bus first while the chaperones made sure nobody or nothing was left behind. The bus was left clean and Tony was pleasantly surprised all the trash was in the designated bags. His opinion of teenagers got a lot better. They group walked inside and after a bathroom break and admiring the lobby, the chaperones gave out the passes.

“Stay with your chaperone at all times but otherwise you are free to roam around the exhibition. We will meet at 12 for a lunch break and after that we will visit the science exhibition.”

Tony eyed his three students.

“Alright,” He rubbed his hands together. “You guys can call me Tony. First off, I am terrible with names so I most likely won’t remember them. Don’t take it personally, Peter can tell you stories.”

The boy in question snorted and nodded.

“So, tell me your names and I will assign you nicknames. If you hate it or it makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I will give you another one.”

Tony listened as Cindy and Michael introduced themselves. Cindy was petite and had a beautiful smile, she seemed to be friends with Peter. Michael was one of the jocks if his physique was any hint.

They followed the rest of the students to the front. There was an elephant skeleton by the line and they took a minute to have pictures, Tony acting as the photographer.

The man had read reviews of the exhibition and was pleasantly surprised. There were posters on the walls and the skeletons were protected by glass or ropes.

“Ew,” Peter grimaced as they came an ostrich. The feathers were intact but it’s skin had been removed, leaving muscles and joints bare. “This is so cool yet so gross.”

Cindy was reading the information poster while Michael took pictures from all angles.

“They sell books and dvds about these,” Tony told the blond, nodding at the poor bird. “Enjoy this live.”

“Oh my God, no!” Peter put a hand over his mouth in shock as they came across a dog. It was in the same state as the bird. Tony was seriously thinking the boy might start crying.

Cindy’s eyes shone with shock and excitement: “This is so- you can see all the muscle groups!”

“Impressive,” Tony had to nod.

“I have read books about animal anatomy, I want to be a doctor, or a veterinarian,” Cindy rambled on.

“Oh really,” The man raised an eyebrow. “Then this must be a perfect opportunity for you. You don’t get an experience like this from books.”

“Poor boy,” Peter shook his head.

“This is not the first animal we have seen today,” Tony pointed out.

“I know! But I see dogs everyday and they are not meant to be eaten- at least not in America,” The boy shrugged and shivered. “It is unnatural to see what dog meat looks like.”

They walked forward, keeping up with the rest of the group. Tony kept his eyes on his trio, making headcounts every minute. He was not willing to be known as the chaperone who lost one of his proteges.

They passed the marine section with no big surprises, apart from how enormous the blue whale was, even Tony was shocked. They walked to a room that had bones and tiny skeletons in glass cases and even a real human skeleton.

“Hey!” Peter walked forward before Tony could stop him. A group of tourists turned to him in shock. “It says no pictures of the skeleton!”

The tourist began to say something in Russian and Peter just pointed at the sign which had a drawing of a camera with a red cross over it.

“It’s basic decency.”

“Peter,” Tony hissed into the boy’s ear and grabbed the boy around the chest, pretty much lifting him off the ground. He sent the other man an apologetic look and dragged the boy away.

“Mr Stark!”

“Would you behave?” Tony let go once they were out of the earshot and grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “God, can’t you go one day without causing a scene!”

“The sign said-”

“Yes, I know, but- Peter, there are many kinds of people. Maybe they honestly did not understand it.”

The boy opened and closed his mouth in shock.

“How dumb do you have to be-”

“Whatever, the point is, it is not your place to tell them anything. You need to contact a worker, it’s their responsibility, not yours.”

Peter deflated and sighed: “It’s still not right.”

“I agree, it’s not.”

The boy walked away and did not speak but a few words until they came to a glass case that had the lower half of a cow.

“Okay, I’m officially grossed out,” Tony grimaced. The poor animal had been cut horizontally and they could clearly see the meat and bones.

“I’m becoming a vegetarian,” Peter leaned against the glass case. Tony raised an eyebrow: they boy was white on the face and his breathing was more labored than normal.

“You okay there, kid?”

Peter snapped out of it and shrugged.

“Just getting a bit hungry, that’s all.”

“Aha,” Tony nodded, not fully believing it. He had learned to distinguish Peter’s hungry face and that was not it. He also knew Peter hated to exhibit signs of weakness. He walked closer to the boy and discreetly leaned closer. “Do you need to sit down? You look like it.”

Peter considered the suggestion for a second but then shook his head.

“No, just feeling a bit weak, but it will pass.”

Tony did not give up. He set a hand on the boy’s shoulder and shook it a bit.

“Kid, I don’t want you collapsing on me, I’ve had that my share of it for a lifetime.”

Peter thought back to the times he had fainted and how Tony claimed each passing out took a year out of his life and sent him closer to dying from a heart failure.

“I’m okay,” The boy straightened up and began to lead the way to the next part. Tony discreetly followed him, ready to extend his arms should Peter start to lose consciousness. But the boy was a champ although he was clearly not feeling well.

“Is that a goat?”

Tony walked closer to the next animal. The animal was perched on a rock and looking straight at them.

“Seems that way,” The man eyed the creature. “Creepy.”

“All of these are creepy,” Peter cringed. “I won’t be eating meat for a month after this.”

“I won’t blame you, buddy. You seriously look like you’re going to throw up.”

Peter gulped and shook his head: “I am fine!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Tony sometimes felt it was more productive to hit his head against a steel wall than try to get the kid to admit he was feeling under the weather.

Ned called Peter over and Tony stayed with the rest of their little group. Cindy took pictures of the goat and they moved to look at reindeer. Ned and Peter were fawning over a foal.

“Hello, Rudolph,” The man nodded his greeting. The animal just stared right at his soul.

A small part of his conscience was waking up. Sure, humans donated their bodies to the Body Worlds but did anyone ask these animals? Probably not, most did not even have consciousness. Was this any better than ending up food to other beings?

Oh God, he was getting feelings. Tony ushered his group forward.

“C’mon,” he ruffled Peter’s hair on the passing. “Time is money and you have neither.”

Peter did not answer.

But there was a thump and Ned’s cry.

Tony’s heart sank to his stomach and he was almost afraid to turn around.

Almost.

“Oh shit,” Tony breathed out as he saw his protege had fainted. He had face-planted on the floor, limbs askew, with Ned frantically shaking his shoulder. Tony ran the five feet that was separating him from Peter and fell on his knees beside the boy.

“Peter,” He took over and turned the boy on his back. Peter was dead weight and so still. Tony struggled even though the boy was relatively light and lean. He quickly felt Peter’s head but found no bumps or open wounds, apparently the carpet proved to be of some merit.

“Go get your teacher,” He told Cindy and the girl ran away. Some students further away were snickering and Tony had to fight himself not to give them the lecture of a lifetime.

Tony was silently thanking heavens Peter had decided to wear just a button up shirt and not have a jumper over it. He opened the first few buttons so the boy’s lungs had more room to expand.He leaned down with his ear in front of the boy’s mouth: Peter was breathing steady and unhindered, his pulse was also normal. But the boy’s skin was clammy and cold.

“Peter!” He called out and shook the boy’s shoulders vigorously.  “Peter! Hey! Wake up!”

The boy remained unresponsive so Tony started tapping his face. His fingers left red marks on his pale skin

“Ned,” He turned to the boy who had not moved from the shock. “I need you to lift his legs, okay? So we get blood back to his brain.”

Ned nodded and grabbed a hold of his friend’s feet until they were elevated at a 75 degree angle.

At that moment the teacher arrived with the rest of the class. They all began to gather around Peter and Tony had to command them back.

“He needs air, stay away for a moment.”

“How long has he been out?” The teachers knelt down just as one mother gave Tony brochure. Tony folded it and began to fan air into Peter’s face.

“Less than a minute,” The man answered and frowned as he felt Peter’s face getting warmer. “Wait-” He set a hand on the boy’s brow just as Peter’s eyelids fluttered. “Does he have a fever?”

The teacher touched Peter’s face. “Hmm, could be. Was he feeling sick?”

“Well, he complained he was a bit dizzy but I thought that was from standing up. And the air’s a bit stuffy here.”

Peter moaned and coughed.

“Well, hello there,” Tony could not help a small smile and Peter turned his head to the sound. He repositioned the brochure so that air flowed right by Peter’s mouth and nose. “Are we waking up?”

“Is he okay?” Ned asked, his hands rubbing Peter’s ankles nervously.

“Coming to,” Tony answered and tapped his mentee’s face. “C’mon, Pete, we are all waiting here.”

It took half a minute for Peter to open his eyes properly.

“There he is!” Tony smiled relieved as Peter’s gaze wandered around the ceiling and the lights. “Hello! Did you have a good nap?”

The boy looked confused and Tony was reminded of a baby.

“How do you feel?”

“Sick,” Peter groaned weakly and Tony’s heart sunk.

“I don’t wonder. You were pretty out of it. Do you know where we are?”

“The museum,” Peter made no movement to get up and for that Tony was grateful, he did not need another fainting spell in his hands.

“Your blood sugar is probably too low,” He said and his hands found the boy’s shoulders. He started massaging the muscles gently, maybe it would help blood get back to the brain and aid the dizziness.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered and looked at the ceiling lights.

“Does anything hurt?” Tony prompted and set a hand on the boy’s forehead again: the unusual warmth was still there. “Head? Stomach?”

“No,” The boy coughed. “Just feel dizzy and tired, not good.”

“You feel like sitting up?” Tony nodded to Ned that it was alright to set Peter’s legs back to the ground.

Peter nodded weakly but surely: “I can try.”

Tony grabbed the boy from underarms and slow and steady, he set the boy to lean against his chest but Peter immediately dipped forward to clutch his head in his hands.

“World’s spinning,” Peter whispered and Tony rubbed his neck and shoulders in sympathy.

“Okay, just breathe in deeply for a minute, it should pass.”

While Peter followed his instructions, Tony stood up and turned to the teacher.

“You guys can go ahead and keep on with the itinerary. I’m taking him to the cafe and see if some food and drink gets him feeling better.”

“That seems like the best,” The man nodded. “It’s about an hour till we stop for lunch. Call me if anything drastic happens, otherwise we can do communication by texts, that work for you?”

Tony felt they understood each other and kept in mind to thank Peter’s teacher properly later. The group walked forward to see the rest of the exhibition, Tony had to convince Ned multiple times that Peter was fine, he could go on and this was nothing new.

“Okay, kiddo,” Tony grabbed the boy under the arms and pulled him up. Peter stayed on his feet but leaned heavily into his mentor. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon.”

Luckily the exit was not too far, if you didn’t stop to watch every single animal and read each infoboard. They made their way to the busy cafe, it was clearly nearing lunch time and Peter looked a bit paler at the smells coming from the buffet table.

“Hey,” Tony pulled the boy tighter against his side. “You’re not getting sick, right? Tell me if you are.”

Peter shook his head, lips sealed tight. The boy’s appetite seemed to be completely gone so Tony sat him down and went to fetch the boy something easy to swallow but nutritious. The boy nibbled on the yogurt and bread but seemed to have a bit easier with the juice box. Tony smiled reassuringly and took his hand: Peter’s skin was cold and clammy.

“Let’s see if these make you feel better. We can go check the other exhibition if you feel up to it.”

Peter tried to match his smile but his eyes did not held their usual light.

By the time Peter’s class made it to the cafeteria, Peter had managed to eat everything but half of his sandwich, Tony saved it for later. The boy leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering shut every couple of seconds.

“You don’t look well, kiddo,” Tony reached over the table and checked the boy’s temperature again. It was on the verge of being classified a fever.

“I’m just tired,” Peter whispered and coughed into his elbow. His attention was soon snapped to the door as the class they had come with appeared, laughing and joking. Most sent Peter either curious or worried looks but the teacher walked up to them.

“You feel better now, Peter?” He clasped the boy’s shoulder and Peter tried to smile.

“Yeah, mostly, just a bit shaky.”

“It can take a while,” Tony nodded. “You over-exerted yourself on an empty stomach.”

“I did eat,” Peter complained.

“Coffee and a croissant are not sufficient breakfast items.”

“I don’t like to take part but Mr Stark is right, Peter,” The teacher nodded at Peter’s mentor. “If this has been happening before, school nurse might help you come up with a meal plan.”

“Oh, we have a meal plan, alright,” Tony rolled his eyes. “This baby just won’t follow it.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“I have to tell you when to eat and practically force the food to your mouth, you are a baby.”

The teacher left with last words of encouragement and discussed the situation with Tony. Tony volunteered to stay with Peter, he was practically the boy’s guardian. The teacher promised to assign the rest of Tony’s students to other chaperones.

“We might take a look at the other side if Peter feels up to it but I can’t make any promises.”

As soon as the teacher left to fetch lunch, Peter said that he wanted to leave the cafe.

“The voices are getting too loud.”

They settled onto a bench in the lobby. They watched the gift shop gather a large mass of people and Peter took careful sips from the water bottle.

“You want to stay here?”

The boy had gotten some color back to his face and his temperature was down to normal limits.

“We could go to the experiment area.”

The museum had a place where people could play science games, do tests and learn about science in a hands-on-style. Tony led Peter there and had a fun time just watching the kid get excited over the simplest attractions. Of course, Peter understood the science behind every single test but still looked amazed how his finger guided bubbles or fast moving pictures looked like a film. They built juvenile, miniature electric cars and even built a giant cube from pillow block in different forms.

Needless to say, Tony got a lot of quality photos and video material in one short hour.

Until Peter wandered away from his mentor to lean against a wall.

“Hey,” Tony immediately grabbed his shoulder and set a hand on the boy’s forehead.

“Don’t feel good,” Peter muttered and Tony frowned.

“Yeah, no wonder, you feel feverish.”

“My heart is racing.”

“You just need some rest.”

He led the boy to the same bench they had occupied and sat Peter down. Tony went to fetch their coats and laid Peter’s smaller, puffier one on the bench. He did not want to think how many germs lived in the piece of furniture.

“Now,” Tony grabbed the boy’s shoulders and helped him lay down. “You just relax, let me take care of things, okay.”

Peter curled up, like Tony knew he would. Peter always slept that way to preserve body heat. He had read somewhere that people who slept in a fetus position were unconsciously seeking love and were uncertain of themselves, shy even.

“I’m cold,” Peter whimpered quietly.

“Let’s remedy that,” Tony unfolded his own coat, long and warm. Usually he preferred shorter ones but he thanked heavens he had decided on a more winter-appropriate design for the day. He laid it over Peter, making sure to cover Peter and keep the chill away.

“Better?” The man sat down and Peter nodded with eyes closed. Tony smiled, relieved that Peter was not currently suffering, and wrapped his arm around Peter so he could rub the boy’s shoulder. The brown curls tickled his leg through the jeans.

The boy was out like a light.

Peter slept for an hour, with Tony guarding him and sending glares to people who dared come closer. The teacher checked up on them and one chaperone, a mother, gave Peter some pills to help combat the obvious cold.

Tony did not tell her the two pills most likely would not have any difference taken into account Peter’s crazy metabolism. He kicked himself for not getting a habit of keeping a bottle of Peter’s painkillers in his pocket at all times.

“Here you go, sweetie,” The woman offered the boy the medicine. Peter obediently washed it down with some bottled water. “That’s a good boy.”

“Thanks,” Peter gave the bottle to Tony who closed it while Peter laid down again. The man put the bottle on his lap and massaged Peter’s temple: the boy had not complained about a headache but he knew how much Peter loved physical contact.

“You want to leave earlier, kiddo?” Tony kept his voice soft and low not to cause a headache, or in the worst case, a migraine episode.

Peter shook his head. “We can’t. Your car is in Midtown.”

“Don’t worry about a silly thing like that.”

“Besides, it’s in school rules. You have to use the provided transportation to get back, even if you live right next to the place field trip took place.”

“That’s complete lunacy.”

“You tell them.”

“I’m sure the rules involve a clause about sickness. They don’t want you getting everyone ill.”

“Yeah, but that sort of thing takes paperwork and such. I’d need a note from a nurse or a doctor since this is counted as school hours.”

Tony groaned in frustration and leaned back his head so his occiput hit the wall. Damn school regulations, they made no sense in real life.

Peter dozed off and Tony positioned the jacket so that it at least obscured the boy’s face. It would not do if curious tourists took a pic of them and sent it to Facebook. Yet, it seemed not the be the main issue. Tony was shocked how few people seemed to recognize him. Maybe people noted the man who looked like Tony Stark but didn’t believe a billionaire would visit a science museum during work hours.

The boy coughed and mumbled something in his sleep. Tony rubbed the boy’s shoulder and hushed him. He stroked Peter’s hair, moving some strands away so they would not tickle his pale skin or nose.

Peter was still asleep when the group came back to the lobby. Tony glanced at the watch: right on time. They had half an hour before bus left to take them back to Midtown.

“Is he okay?” Ned walked up to them and Tony smiled reassuringly.

“Yes, it’s just a small cold or something similar, nothing to worry about,” The man chuckled as Peter turned on his back, his head getting slightly propped up on Tony’s thigh. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Want to go to the giftshop?”

“You don’t have to,” Ned said hastily as Peter was quiet a second too long. “You can stay here and I can get you what you want. We can do a video call!”

Peter snorted. “No, I feel better, let’s just go there.”

Tony supported his protege discreetly, his hand on the small of Peter’s back as they browsed shelf after shelf of books, puzzles, miniatures, games, movies and anything the shop had gotten their hands on. The man had offered to pay for all souvenirs the students (and chaperones) wanted to have in order to make the day enjoyable for everyone. It wouldn’t be fair if the kids from less wealthy families would feel left out. Also, Peter was one of the scholarship students: if he was going to pay for Peter’s shopping spree, he could help out other children as well.

Some took full advantage of Tony’s money and he was used to it. Peter, however, scrutinized the prices and asked politely each time.

“Can I have this?” Peter pointed to a puzzle of Milky Way.

“Sure, but don’t you rather want this one?” Tony took one of the periodic table from the shelf: Peter had been looking at it for a good while but it cost ten dollars more.

“It’s forty dollars…”

“Yes, but it has 500 pieces more, and looks much easier to assemble.”

Peter got his puzzle and hugged it close to his chest. Tony also bought him a crystal growing kit, a solar system mobile and a few brain puzzles.

“Mr Stark, honestly, I don’t need this much stuff!”

“So? Think of them as pre-Christmas Presents.”

They walked to the drop-off site, with Peter pressing himself closer to his mentor to avoid the chill in the air.

“My head hurts,” The boy said as they saw the bus, Tony pulled him closer and rubbed the kid’s arm comfortingly.

“I’ll give you some water when we get to our seats, okay? It could be just dehydration.”

There was no question that Tony would sit at the front with Peter. He guided the boy to the window seat and set their bags to the floor.

“Here,” He gave Peter the bottle. The boy took a few sips before leaning his head against the cool window.

“Sorry, I ruined your day,” Peter whispered and shivered in his heavy coat.

“You couldn’t help it,” Tony shook his head. He knew casting the apology aside did nothing with Peter. “You got sick. Sickness doesn’t ask for a time or place. You just think whether you want to go straight home or come to the Tower. I can manage both.”

“Manage?” Peter frowned at his mentor.

“Kid, I’m staying with you. If it was just a cold, I could trust you to care for yourself but you fainted. You know what that does to my heart.”

Peter gave a very small smile.

Tony took out a piece of gum and the bus took to the road.

He hoped he would be the only one suffering from motion sickness.