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spiltscribbles · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

FROM THIS LIST | Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face.

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk.

It’s a decade and a half later— as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least, to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly, searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand.

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice.

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors.

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even.

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital.

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin.

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?”

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped.

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

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#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #ILU Victoria!!!#also to anyone side eyeing the buy me a coffee plz do not judge me #i am so searing embarrassed about it #rip #just it's there i guess #calls;jalksdgjaeowifjsadlkgh #look away from me #!!!#lmfao #spilt ink

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kinglazrus · 4 years ago

Text

Double Date

Phic Phight

Submitted by @ghostgothgeek: Danny/Sam and Johnny/Kitty double date

Summary: All Danny wanted was some dating advice from the only couple he knows, but of course he got more than he bargained for. At least going to the boardwalk sounds like a nice first date, right?

Word count: 9464 | links to ffn and ao3 in my bio

Danny stares at the tickets in Johnny's outstretched hand. He looks up at Johnny's slanted grin, then back down again. On the other side of the roof, Shadow lurks in the shade of the Ops-centre, drifting dangerously close to the supports.

"When I asked for dating advice, this isn't what I meant," Danny says. He thought Johnny dragged him up to the roof of Fenton Works for some "man to man" talk, not... whatever this is.

Johnny shrugs and stuffs the tickets into his jacket pocket. "Maybe so, but it's what you're getting! You want to treat your girl right? What better way to learn than watching the best boyfriend you know in action?"

"Johnny, I've seen you in action. Downtown. Driving around the community college and looking at all the girls while Kitty is off doing whatever," Danny says.

"Is that really such a big deal? Come on, kid. Listen to me." Johnny throws his arm around Danny's shoulder and drags him toward the edge of the rooftop. "Look how big this place is." He sweeps out his arm, gesturing toward the city. The sun is nearly set, but lots of people are still out at this hour. A warm haze of light glitters on the northern edge of the city, at the beachfront. Danny can almost see the top curve of the Ferris wheel from here.

Johnny continues. "Lots of people down there. Who knows who you actually saw doing what? I bet there are loads of blond guys with bikes around here. And I've got two tickets to the pier that says so."

Danny turns away from the glowing city to stare incredulously at Johnny. "You're using a double date with you and Kitty to bribe me into not telling her I caught you ogling college girls?"

"You said it, not me."

"Did you steal those tickets?"

"Kid, I know you're the goody-two-shoes type. I bought them fair and square with money right of pocket."

Danny snorts. "Whose pocket?"

"I don't think that matters. Come on, it'll be fun. I don't give advice for free, you know." Johnny squeezes Danny's shoulder, a little too hard for what's meant to be a casual chat. The desperate sheen in Johnny's eye kind of ruins the threat, though.

As Danny considers the offer, a shiver goes up his spine. His next breath leaves in a puff of pale blue air. With a sigh, he goes intangible and extracts himself from Johnny's hold, smiling a little when the older ghost stumbles at the sudden loss of Danny's support. Looking over the rooftops, he can't see another ghost, but they can't be far if they set off his ghost sense. He hopes with all his heart that they might be here for a friendly chat, like Johnny, but doubts it. Danny isn't lucky enough for that.

"Okay. I'll go," he says.

"And?" Johnny's grin stretches as he gestures for Danny to go on.

Danny tips his head back and sighs. He doesn't have time for this. "And I guess I didn't see you at the college last week."

"Great!" Johnny gives Danny a hearty slap on the back and climbs back onto his motorcycle. "You're not so bad, kid. When you're not kicking my ass. Just stick with Kitty and me on the day and I'll show the ropes." He kicks up the stand on his motorcycle and revs the engine. "Oh, and before I forget. If this date doesn't go perfectly, then... Shadow!"

The murky ghost rises from beneath the Ops-centre.

"Wait, don't!" Danny shouts, too late, as Shadow zips across the roof, cutting through as many of the Ops-Centre's supports as he can before melting into the darkness. Johnny takes off cackling as the whole thing comes crashing down.

—

The next morning, Danny keeps his head low, his gaze locked on the bowl of soggy cereal in front of him. Across the kitchen, his father stops to slap the counter.

"Didn't even hear a thing! Can you believe that?" Jack asks.

"Crazy."

"Must have happened while we were sleeping."

"Must have."

"When I find the ghost that did it, they're gonna get a face full of Fenton grade vengeance! You know what happens when a ghost looks in a mirror, Danno? Makes 'em go crazy. We're working on this new gun that makes them see—"

"Look at that, time for school!" Danny shoots to his feet. He can't meet his father's gaze as he dumps his cereal bowl—still half full—into the sink and scurries out of the kitchen.

"Have fun!" Jack calls after him.

"Yeah, sure, I will!" Danny shouts back. Under his breath, he adds, "as long as I never have to see that gun." He grabs his backpack as he leaves, snagging the strap and swinging it over his shoulder on his way out the door. Once he is outside, and there's a solid barrier between him, his ticked-off father, and whatever ghost-fighting monstrosity his parents have made now, he stops to take a deep breath.

There are still a few minutes before Tucker should arrive for their walk to school, but Jack does not know that. Danny did not want to sit there and listen to his own father talk about all the ways he could make Danny double-dead, much less re-experience his first death. In fact, he usually tries to avoid people like that. Unfortunately, that does not always work when he lives with two of them.

Danny shakes his head. He can think about those things later. Right now, his conversation with Johnny is the only thing he cares about. Only time will tell if he made a huge mistake agreeing to the double date, but it would be nice if at least one thing could go right for Danny for once.

Inside the house, something slams, followed by a shout from Jack that rattles the window. Danny jumps away from the door and nearly tumbles down the stoop, his front foot slipping off the top step. He latches onto the bannister to keep from falling back, and his foot thumps against the next step. The landing jars his leg as his knee locks, a jolt shooting up his thigh.

"Whoa, it's freshman Danny." Tucker's voice drifts through Danny's ears.

Danny turns, rubbing his now aching knee, and scowls. "What?"

"You know. Freshman Danny." Grinning wide and smug, Tucker motions to Danny's entire person first, then his leg. "Clumsy as hell and too chicken to ask Sam out."

"Shut up! Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!" Tucker waves his hand in an airy gesture of finality, turning up his nose. He spins away from Danny, a signal that their little squabble is over. His mistake.

With a final cry of "Am not!" Danny launches himself at Tucker, pouncing on his back. Tucker shrieks in surprise, a peal of laughter echoing off his cry, and stumbles under the new weight. He tries to beat Danny off with the flat of his palm. In response, Danny clings tighter. He wraps his legs around Tucker's waist and hooks his arms over his shoulders, latching on to his wrists to keep a firm grip.

"Holy shit. You're so short, why are you so heavy." Tucker wheezes as he tries to pry Danny's arms off.

Danny throws his head over Tucker's shoulders, shifting his weight forward enough that Tucker bows underneath him. "Ghost fighting muscles, baby."

"Ugh." Tucker's palm finds Danny's chin and he pushes, shoving his head back. "You totally could have asked Sam out for homecoming but nooo, you had to go with me as a hot young bachelor."

Danny's cheeks burned. "It was your idea!"

"Only because you were getting all pouty about not going with Sam, and the only reason that didn’t happen is because you never asked!"

"Well, I'm asking today!"

Tucker freezes. For a second, Danny wonders how ridiculous they must look to anyone watching, with him clinging to Tucker worse than Klemper to literally anyone, and Tucker stretching back to push Danny's head as far back as it will go. Actually, maybe they wouldn't find it so strange. Danny's neighbours have seen a lot of weird things in the past four years; him and Tucker being their usual selves can't be high up on that list.

"You're really gonna ask today, finally?" Tucker asks.

Danny nods, as much as he can Tucker still shoving his head back. "Johnny was here last night."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker pauses, giving Danny a chance to elaborate. He doesn't, waiting for the gears to click in Tucker's head instead. It takes a moment, but he gets there. "Oh! Oh, right, yeah. He finally got back to you? Is that why, uh... you know." Tucker finally withdraws his hands and points to the roof of Fenton Works.

"Oh. Yeah." Danny's limbs go intangible, slipping through Tucker's torso in one final act of petty vengeance as Danny rights himself. Tucker shivers, shooting Danny a glare, before looking back at the Ops-Centre. Normally a pinnacle of Fenton genius that stands proudly above their home, now it lays on its side. Danny managed to catch it, barely, before it could crash into the roof, but overnight the saucer-like body crushed itself under its own weight. Now, the side touching the roof is a crumpled mess, the supports that once held it up rusted beyond repair.

"Shadow," Danny says. It's all he needs to say. Tucker nods, understanding perfectly what happened here. "Other than that it went... okay. He asked me out."

"What?!" Tucker's head whips toward Danny, his eyes wide. "I hope nobody tells Kitty. But he does give off bi energy, doesn't he?"

Danny rolls his eyes. "Not like that. He invited me and Sam on a double date with him and Kitty."

"Oh, so they're swingers."

"Tucker!"

Tucker snickers. "Okay, okay. I'm serious now. Promise." The cat-like grin he gives isn't the most reassuring, but Danny will take what he can get. "You're really gonna ask her out today?"

"Got carnival tickets and everything."

"Well, shit, man. Don't blow it."

Danny grabs Tucker's beanie and yanks it down over his face. Tucker's teasing laughter chases Danny all the way to school.

—

At lunch, Danny pulls Sam aside. He meets her at her locker, which is two halls away from his and Tucker's, waiting along the opposite wall for her to finish switching out her books for her lunch bag. The hall is still fairly crowded since it's only been a minute since the lunch bell went. Down the way, Danny can see Paulina and Elliot, standing with their heads tucked together by Paulina's locker, working on the local rumour mill no doubt. When Sam looks done digging through her bag, and Danny pushes off the wall toward her, Elliot happens to glance in their direction. His sharp eyes go from Danny to Sam, then back. A wicked smile takes over his face.

Danny ducks his head, letting his hair flop forward and hide his slowly reddening cheeks. In two quick strides, he crosses the hall and thumps against the closed lockers beside Sam's.

"Done lurking?" Sam asks without looking up.

"I wasn't lurking."

"Sure you weren't." Sam knocks her elbow against her locker door. Danny's eyes catch the small, black-framed mirror taped to the inside, which reflects the exact spot Danny was standing when it hits the right angle.

At this rate, Danny's face will be red as his shoes. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What's up?" She finally looks up from her bag as she yanks the zipper closed. When she turns toward him, she hits her locker door with her elbow once again, this time to knock it closed; but, as the door swings, Danny glimpses Paulina and Elliot again. This time, they are both watching, and the way they cover their mouths as they talk is far from reassuring.

Danny's hand jerks out. He stops Sam's locker, shoving it back open, and holds it in place to block the gossiping duo's view.

"I wanted to ask you something," Danny says.

Sam shoots a raised eyebrow at her locker door, then turns it on him "Are you okay? You've been acting kind of weird all day."

"No, yeah, I'm fine. I was just– you know. This weekend, yeah?"

Sam looks entirely unimpressed with his fumbled words. "I can't say that I do."

"I have tickets to the boardwalk," Danny clarifies. "For this weekend. We don't have anything planned and I know you're free. So, want to go?"

As he waits for Sam's answer, he is struck by the realization that she could say no. They have been friends for years, and he has had an inkling, the past little while, that she might like him back. But he doesn't know it. No matter what Danny feels for her—and thinking about his own feelings makes his face hot and his heart stutter—she still might not feel the same. She could say no. And it's not that Danny hasn't thought about this before; there's a reason he is only asking her out senior year even though he has had a crush on her since they were freshman. But worrying about it in the back of his mind is very different from standing in front of her knowing it could actually happen.

This was such a bad idea. He is asking her out in the hallway. Within sight of Paulina and Elliot. He should have waited until after school, at least. Oh, god. Should he have gotten her something? Are you supposed to bring something when you ask someone out? Oh, this is so bad. She is going to say no, and then Danny will have to tell the story to Tucker, and Tucker will laugh because of course she said no, this is terrible.

"Sure, sounds fun," Sam says.

Danny blinks. He shakes his head, goes over her words in his head to make sure he heard it right, then blinks again. "Yes?"

"Absolutely. It's been so long since we've gone to the boardwalk. Maybe Tucker can win that stuffed shark he couldn't get last time." Sam nudges Danny's hand off her locker door and closes it, then snaps her padlock back into place.

Danny watches her blankly, slowly processing what she just said. "Tucker," he says.

"Yeah. At the ring toss booth, remember? I think he wasted fifty bucks on that thing. I told him it was a scam, but whatever." Sam starts down the hall toward the cafeteria, but Danny stays rooted in place.

He remembers the ring toss, of course. After Tucker finished emptying his wallet on the booth, Danny took a turn and got the top prize in one go. He might have had a little telekinesis to help him along, but no one else needed to know that; the giant stuffed alien was worth it. But that had nothing to do with this, right?

Before his thoughts can spiral too far, Danny shakes his head. "I meant without Tucker."

Sam pauses mid-step. Slowly, she sets her foot down and turns back around to face Danny. Her grip on her backpack tightens, and he can see the muscle along her jaw working as she clenches her teeth. Those are... probably not good signs. "Like, just you and me?"

In the background, Danny hears Paulina and Elliot snicker. He groans, dragging a hand down his face, and glares over Sam's shoulder at them. "Can you not?"

"Not our fault you're doing this in the middle of the hall," Paulina says.

"Seriously. I had way better class," Elliot adds.

Paulina looks at Elliot and beams. "You so did. But I've been rooting for this since the beginning, and I am so invested right now."

"Oh my God, this is so embarrassing." Danny has to fight off the urge to go intangible. He almost wishes his ghost sense would go off so that he could have an excuse to leave. This is not how he imagined this going, and Paulina and Elliot are making it so much worse than it has to be.

"Come on, Danny." Sam's voice snaps him out of his pity party. At some point, while he was wallowing, she walked back toward him and now has her hand on his wrist. She tugs him forward. He gives in, letting her drag him along the hall past the tittering pair until they disappear around the corner. Once they are out of sight, Sam's hand slips down into Danny's. It's warm. She squeezes his hand, just once, then tugs him into the nearest empty classroom and closes the door.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment.

Danny's hands flex at his sides as he tries not to fidget. Sam won't pull her gaze up from the floor.

"So, uh. Just you and me?" she repeats.

Danny nods vigorously, then stops and shakes it instead. "Yeah, but no. Johnny and Kitty will be there."

Sam's head snaps up.

The first thing Danny notices is the red tinge to her face, a rosy band stretching across her cheeks and nose. Her lips pinch together, not in a show of disapproval, but an expression of hers that he has become familiar with over the years. Sam doesn't usually do hopeful most of the time. Nerves aren't her thing either. But when she wants something bad enough, and she dares to look on the brighter side, she gets this look on her face. It's like she wants to smile but she holds herself back, sucking on her lips as she tries to keep composed.

That expression wavers now, her mouth relaxing as a frown tugs at her lips instead. "Now I'm confused. Are you trying to ask me out or not?"

"Yes!" Danny bursts out. "To the boardwalk with me. But it's, like, a double date with Johnny and Kitty, because he got the tickets. Actually bought them, although I'm pretty sure he stole the money." He considers telling Sam about the deal but holds back. "I really thought this was gonna go better but now I kind of want to punch Elliot in the face or something."

"Please don't punch my ex-boyfriend in the face."

"Right, not a good look. Got it."

Silence falls again. Neither of them can meet each other's eyes, although Danny keeps stealing glances at Sam. One hand hovers in front of her mouth, but when she turns her head away from him, he sees the full-blown grin on her face. Her eyes sparkle in a way he hasn't seen before. It sounds cheesy and dumb, but it's the truth. He looks at her and all he can see is how genuinely happy she is. Soon enough, Danny wears a grin to match hers.

"So," Sam says, and that one syllable sounds so much lighter than her usual tone. "It's a date."

—

In retrospect, asking Sam to go out with him on Saturday on a Wednesday wasn't the best idea. Danny floats around school for the rest of the day with a dopey grin on his face. He actually lifts off his feet a few times and Tucker has to clamp a hand down on his shoulder to keep him down. Over the next two days, he asks Tucker no less than five times if that really happened, if Sam actually said yes. Tucker, naturally, teases Danny relentlessly over it.

By Friday, Paulina and Elliot have made good work of spreading Danny's disaster attempt to ask Sam out all around the school. More than once, he sees money changing hands in the hallway, trying to be discreet and Danny and Sam pass by, so close together that their knuckles keep brushing as they walk.

He hasn't held her hand since she dragged him to the classroom on Wednesday, even though he wants to.

When Saturday rolls around, Danny phones Tucker an hour before he and Sam are supposed to meet.

"Do I dress normally?" he asks.

On the other end of the line, Tucker sighs. "Why are you asking me?"

"It's the boardwalk. People don't get dressed up for the boardwalk. And Sam has already seen everything in my closet. Should I try to look really nice, or should I just be myself?"

"We are talking about Sam, right? Relax, man. You know what she'd like."

In the end, Danny decides to go mostly normal. He throws a button-up over his usual outfit, rolls the sleeves up, and calls it a day. If he knows Sam, she would appreciate him not making things weird by getting too fancy and not like his usual self. He maintains that attitude up until he gets to the boardwalk and sees her waiting by the ticket booths.

"I should have dressed up," he whispers.

At a glance, Sam's outfit doesn't seem too different from her usual attire. Black on black with a few purple accents thrown into the mix. He has seen her in dresses before, but rarely outside school dances, and he has never seen this one with Flowing lace sleeves that slope down her shoulders and a flared skirt. She even has a new wide brim hat to go with it, even though it's already sunset.

Before Danny even considers turning back around and putting something nicer on, Sam's gaze roves over the parking lot and settles on him. She gives his outfit a good look. A second passes. She bursts on laughing.

"Oh, come on," Danny whines as he approaches.

"I'm sorry," she says, but she is still hunched over clutching her stomach. "But your face. You should have seen your face."

It takes a good minute for her to get her giggles under control. Even still, a few quiet snickers breakthrough when she finally composes herself, smoothing out her dress and righting her hat.

"Tucker texted me," she says. "He told me all about your little fashion dilemma."

"I'm gonna kill him." Tucker just had to get in one last jab before the date began, Danny supposes. He hopes it was worth it because Tucker is going to pay dearly. Although...

He subtlety takes in Sam's outfit again, the way the dress hugs her waist, and those boots. He didn't notice them at first but now he can't stop staring at them. Slick, black, buckled up to the knees, with the purple lace edging of a pair of stocking peeking out the top. The only exposed skin on her legs is a few scant inches of her thighs between the end of the stockings and the bottom of her dress. And it's a damn good few inches.

Danny silently amends his earlier statement. He won't kill Tucker; he will collapse into his best friend’s arms crying tears of gratitude for helping him spend a whole evening with Sam dressed like that.

Realizing that he is staring, Danny quickly drags his eyes back up to Sam's face. The last thing he wants on their first date is for her to punch him because he is being a creep. Except Sam doesn't look angry to have caught him staring. In fact, she is blushing again, nervously plucking at her sleeves with her nails.

"For a second I thought you had bought a whole new outfit just for today." Danny chuckles, his own nerves showing through. Despite how long they have known each other, he feels wholly unprepared for tonight.

"Not exactly," Sam says. She drops her sleeves and smooths out her skirt again, this time pinching some of the fabric in her hand and swishing it back and forth. "I've had this outfit for a while, but I haven't worn it yet."

"Oh, man. I'm really underdressed, aren't I?" Danny tugs at the collar of his NASA shirt with a grimace. The button-up, at least, is black, because he knew she would like that. But otherwise, he is plain old Danny.

"Not that you don't look good all dressed up, but I like it when you're yourself," Sam says.

The rumble of a motorcycle approaches from the distance.

"Besides, I think you'll look pretty fancy next to Johnny."

At least Danny has that going for him. They both turn toward and watch Johnny's motorcycle peal into the parking lot. It goes intangible, along with its riders, and phases through the parked cars, only coming back into the physical world when it screeches to a stop in front of Danny and Sam.

Johnny runs a hand over his slicked-back hair—is that gel? "You're really setting the tone for your first date, huh."

To Danny's horror, Johnny is dressed up. He switched his dusty gray jacket for a shiny leather one, and instead of his usual shirt, he wears his own button-up. But unlike Danny's, Johnny's shirt is white and crisp, and actually buttoned up.

Kitty, meanwhile, looks the same as always. "Come on, don't tease the kid. He ain't half bad looking. He snagged me for a couple weeks, didn't he?"

Danny opens his mouth, about to remind her that she had been using him to make Johnny jealous the entire time; one look at Johnny's scowl and Sam's glare has him shutting up before he can utter a single syllable.

"Uh, should we go in? You do have the tickets, right Johnny?" he says instead.

Johnny scoffs and reaches into his jacket, pulling out the tickets. "Cool it, little man. I got us covered."

"Johnny! You actually bought tickets?" Kitty gasps.

"Only the best for you, babe. Let's go." Johnny holds out his elbow for Kitty to take, which she goes with glee, her steps bouncing as they take off for the ticket booth. Over his shoulder, Johnny shoots Danny a wink.

"Oh, uh. Shall we?" Danny cringes as the words fall from his mouth, but offers his arm to Sam nonetheless. She looks between Danny and Johnny, a questioning look in her eye. Just when Danny thinks she is going to leave him hanging, she shrugs and loops her arm through his.

They follow Johnny and Kitty. Already at the booth, the ghostly couple is passing the tickets over when Danny and Sam get close.

"The pipsqueaks are with us," Johnny says.

The girl at the counter, who looks only a year or two older than Danny, stares at Johnny with wide eyes. His aura, a dull grey that's usually hard to see, is much brighter at night. With the poorly lit parking lot at their back, it's impossible to ignore. Kitty's soft green aura is far more noticeable, but she stands just behind Johnny, her arm still curled around his, staring ahead at the twinkling lights of the boardwalk.

The sun hasn't completely set yet, but the top of the Ferris wheel touches the darkest part of the sky, and its colourful lights flash in a mesmerizing pattern, beckoning people in.

Johnny seems to have forgotten the whole reason he arranged this date in the first place because he takes full advantage of Kitty's distraction to lean in close to Ticket Girl, looking her up and down.

Behind them, a line is forming.

Ticket Girl's lip curls in disgust, but Danny can see fear shining in her eyes. "Sorry, sir, but I don't know if I can let a ghost in."

The fawning curl to Johnny's smile drops away abruptly, twisting into something more similar. "That's a bit rude, don't you think?" Shadow rises from Johnny's feet, growing taller until he looms over the booth, a menacing grin stretching his blank face wide.

"Johnny!" Danny slides up to the booth, nudging Johnny over with the arm not held by Sam, and beams at Ticket Girl manning the booth. "Hey. You might recognize me—Danny Fenton, son of Maddie and Jack Fenton."

"The ghost hunters." Ticket Girl nods.

"Right. We're actually doing an experiment right now. See, some ghosts actually have really human behaviours. Like Phantom, I bet you love him. But any good scientist has to test their hypothesis multiple times. So me and my– uh, my girlfriend?" He glances at Sam, whose red face matches his, but nods in agreement. "Are here to observe these too ghosts"—he tips his head to Johnny and Kitty—"doing normal human things. Such as getting into the boardwalk with paid tickets, just like everyone else wants to do."

"But he...." Ticket Girl glances nervously at Shadow.

"The big guy will be so chill. Super chill. You won't even know he is here, because you'll be at the booth, far away from the ghosts that just want to get inside and definitely not hurt anyone here."

The kid snatches up the tickets before Danny finishes his sentence, ripping off the stubs, and shoves a handful of wristbands across the counter, along with a whole roll of game tickets. "Just don't come back, okay?"

"Thank you!" Danny grabs the items and hustles everyone along.

"Nice work, Danny." Kitty gives him a thumb up under her and Johnny's intertwined arms. "Way to use your head."

"I could have thought of something," Johnny grumbles.

"Sure you could have, babe. Now let's check out the roller coaster first!" She drags him off, both of them without their wristbands, but Danny doesn't think it will be a problem. Everyone steers clear of them as they plow through the crowd. Every second the sun gets closer to setting, every shade darker the sky turns, the more obvious it becomes that Johnny and Kitty aren't human as their auras grow brighter.

"What should we do first?" Sam plucks four of the wristbands from Danny's fist—the kid gave him seven—and puts them on, grinning at her little collection. She takes the remaining three and puts them on Danny.

"Roller coaster sounds fun. Go with the thrills first?" He watches her slip the bands around his wrist, looping them together so that all three are intertwined.

Sam pauses on the last bracelet. "But you like saving the big rides for last."

He peeks over Sam's shoulder. Johnny and Kitty are halfway across the boardwalk already, well on their way to the coaster. Johnny twists mid-step, catches Danny's eye, and beckons him forward.

Right. Stick together. See how it's done.

"Yeah, but it might be fun to shake things up." He takes over putting the last bracelet on, hurrying to slap the sticky pieces together. In his rush, he catches some of his hair, drawing out a wince, but Johnny and Kitty are nearly there, and they've fallen way too far behind. "Come on!"

Danny takes Sam's arm and pulls her along. Focused on the path left by Johnny and Kitty's charge, he misses the frown on Sam's face as she looks down at him.

—

It goes better than Danny expected. Kitty leads the way, picking attraction after attraction with such gusto that he thinks she has never been to a theme park of any kind, which may very well be. Danny doesn't know much about Johnny and Kitty's life before ghost-hood, except that they died young and poor.

More than once, Danny catches Johnny watching other girls. Kitty doesn't seem to have noticed, so far, but Danny is not taking any chances. He remembers Johnny's threat and Shadow's piercing eyes watching them every step of the way serves as a constant reminder. Whenever he catches Johnny in a moment of distraction, he nudges the ghost and draws him back to the present. It earns him a few glares, but it works.

Despite Johnny's mounting annoyance, he still fulfills his side of the deal, giving Danny quick advice, either through vague gestures or whispered words while the girls are distracted.

"Let her choose what to do." Johnny feigns examining the bright bulbs overhead as they wait in line for the bumper cars. The golden lights dangle from the tent, flashing intermittently. Neither Sam nor Kitty are paying attention to the boys. Sam leans against the railing, cheering on the current bumper car drivers. A quick glance into the rink shows Valerie Grey ramming her cart against Dash Baxter.

If Johnny weren't dispensing important advice, Danny would be right next to Sam cheering along.

"It makes her feel like you care about what she likes when you do," Johnny continues.

"I do care," Danny says.

"Perfect, then you won't have a problem."

The bumper cars don't provide ample opportunity to use Johnny's advice, but when Kitty drags them to the Tilt-a-Whirl next, he gets the perfect chance. At the front of the line, he and Sam get first pick of the available seats. The Amity Park boardwalk, unlike other theme parks, has an eclectic collection of Tilt-a-Whirl cars ranging from a cupcake, to a plain seat, to a bat to a spaceship. Danny already knows which one Sam would like.

"You want to take the spaceship?" Sam asks, tugging Danny in that direction.

He resists her pull. "Don't you like the bat?"

"Yeah, of course. But you like the spaceship."

It's the strangest tug of war Danny has ever found himself in. He nearly gives in, but Johnny kicks the back of Danny's leg—lightly—and coughs "lady's choice" under his breath.

"It's just a car. We can take the one you like," Danny says.

Sam frowns, her grip slackening. It's all that Danny needs, and he eagerly pulls her toward the bat, sliding in before she can protest further. When he turns to face her, instead of a smile, she meets him with a frown.

"Is something wrong?" Danny asks, startled. Panic rises within him. Oh, no. She is not having a good time. It's a disaster after all.

"No, it's fine," she says after a moment of silence, which does nothing to assuage Danny's worries. Everyone knows "fine" doesn't actually mean "fine." It's one of the most used words in Danny's vocabulary, typically after a nasty ghost fight that leaves him limping and bruised.

Desperate, Danny leans out of the car, searching the ride for Johnny. He finds him across the way, sliding into the cupcake next to Kitty. Johnny meets Danny's gaze and motions for him to watch. In one smooth move, Johnny stretches his arm out with a feigned yawn, then settles it down around Kitty's shoulders and tugs her close. When Danny leans back into the car, Sam is watching him.

"You're acting weird," she says.

"I'm just a little tired." Danny stretches his arm up, just like Johnny did. Sam's gaze follows it all the way until he drapes it over her shoulder. It isn't until he has settled that he realizes he forgot the yawn.

The rest of Johnny's advice follows that same vein: do what Sam wants and use every chance possible to invite her closer. Danny follows it to the letter, mimicking everything Johnny does. Take the lead when walking, but let her choose where to go. Keep her close, but let her wander when she wants to. The hardest part, though, is finding excuses to stick with Johnny and Kitty.

"We don't have to spend the whole night with them," Sam says.

They are loading onto the Ferris wheel, Johnny and Kitty taking one side of the four-person carriage while Sam and Danny get the other. Danny had hoped to save this for the end of the night, for just him and Sam, but Kitty wanted to go now. When Danny tried to suggest otherwise, or even suggest he and Sam take a different carriage, Shadow's low growl cut off his protests.

"I want to make sure they don't get into trouble. You know they like to cause drama," he whispers needlessly. Neither Kitty nor Johnny is listening.

"I don't think we have to worry about that. We've been here for three hours already and they haven't done anything. I think they just want to have a good time. Mostly." Sam tilts her head, shooting Johnny a pointed look.

To Danny's dismay, Johnny is once again feasting on the local sights. As Kitty braces herself against the rail of the carriage, staring out over the beachfront, Johnny leers at the woman who helped them onto the ride. His posture mimics Kitty's as the Ferris wheel turns for the next passengers to load on, and he leans over to get one last look at the woman.

"It's a double date. Aren't you supposed to stick together on a double date?" Danny draws Sam's attention back to him with the question and uses that moment to kick Johnny's ankle.

"Ow!" Johnny cries. He whips around, fixing a glare on Danny. "The hell was that for?"

"Do I have to say it?" They both know he won't, though. With the threat of Shadow hanging over the evening, Danny won't risk letting Kitty on to what's happening behind her back.

Sam, however, has no such qualms. "I can't believe you. You're literally on a date and you're not even paying attention to your girlfriend?"

That grabs Kitty's attention. She turns, eyes wide, and looks at Johnny. "What?"

"I bet she spent a long time getting ready for today, trying to look good for you, but here you are, faking interest when she watches, then looking to someone else whenever you think she isn't." As Sam berates Johnny, her voice slowly growing louder, Danny gets the sinking feeling that she isn't just talking about the ghost. "I wonder how long she has been looking forward to this. Probably a really long time, but you're so distracted that you can't even see she isn't enjoying herself."

Danny's stomach plummets. He really screwed up, didn't he?

"You. What?" Kitty's ice-cold voice reminds Danny that there are real stakes on this date.

"I was checking out her jacket, not her! It looks like the kind of thing you like to wear," Johnny rushes to explain.

Kitty's eyes narrow. In a blink, she lurches across the carriage and takes Johnny's place at the rail, peering back at the receding woman. Damningly, she isn't wearing a jacket.

"You! You! I can't believe you!" Kitty shrieks. "I thought you wanted to take me on a nice date. I didn't even care that you the ghost kid and his girl were coming, because he's nice, and you were finally taking me to a theme park like I always wanted!"

Viridescent tears streak down Kitty's cheeks. Danny has seen her livid and raging plenty of times over the past few years, but now she looks downright distraught. Her face crumples, scowl giving way as a sob wrenches from her throat. Johnny looks as stricken as Danny feels.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean it. You know you're the only girl for me," he says, dropping to his knees.

"I thought this– this meant something." Kitty struggles to speak through her tears, fighting against the tightening of her throat and gasping sobs. "How could you?"

She takes off, then, launching herself out of the carriage with enough force that she sends it rocking. Johnny reaches after her, but it's no use. She streaks across the sky, a blur of red and green, and disappears into the sparkling lights of the game booths, out of sight in seconds.

An oppressive silence descends for one long moment.

Johnny, shoulders trembling, turns to Danny. His shadow bubbles and bulges as two furious eyes blink open. "Kid, I am going to kill you!"

Sam jumps forward, sending the carriage rocking again, and brings her leg up. Danny glimpses the neon sole of her boot before she slams her heel down on Shadow's growing face. Shadow screeches in pain and withers into the floor, disappearing into a grey blob with a pathetic sizzle.

"Shut the hell up, Johnny, and go after your girlfriend!" Sam shouts, thrusting an arm out toward the game booths.

Johnny gnashes his teeth but doesn't fight. "This isn't over, kid." He falls through the floor of the carriage, intangible, and takes off after Kitty.

With a huff, Sam drops onto the bench opposite Danny, crossing her legs and arms, and glares at a point over Danny's shoulder.

Danny fidgets, pinching the fabric of his jeans and rolling it between his fingers. He looks up at Sam, down, then out after Johnny and Kitty. "Should we–"

"They can wait until the ride is done," Sam snaps.

Danny nods, afraid to say anything else and screw this up even further. He should have noticed Sam wasn't enjoying herself. It started off great, and now... he is not sure if there will be a second date. He wouldn't blame her. With that realization comes the dawning horror of what that might mean for their friendship. It would end because of this, right? They have fought a few times over the years, and it never lasts long, but this is different. They tried dating; that changes things. If it doesn't work and they go back to just being friends, it won't be the same. They will both know that they like each other, and they will know that it didn't work.

What would happen then? Danny can't imagine not having Sam in his life, but if she is really mad at him... she has dropped people for less. Everyone in Casper High remembers the middle school debacle that led to Sam cutting off all ties with Paulina. They might be better now, but it took six years for them to become friends again. Danny couldn't wait that long.

"Danny!" Sam jostles him, her hand on his shoulder, and yanks him back to the present. She stares into his eyes, assessing him. Once she is satisfied that he is back in the moment, she returns to her seat, this time with her gaze fixed on him.

Looking outside the carriage, Danny realizes they are over the crest. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed half the ride, including the best moment. The realization hits him worse than one of Skulker's ecto-seeking missiles. He nearly spirals again, but Sam reaches out and clamps onto his knee, keeping him grounded.

"Danny, I think we need to talk."

This is his nightmare. Literally, he has had nightmares about Sam rejecting him. They usually end with the haunting echo of Elliot's pompous laughter as Sam chooses him, old jealousies thriving in his dreams. Sometimes Valerie is there, too, her face overlayed with Sam's as they turn him down in unison. But the worst ones are when it is just Sam, looking him straight in the eye, and saying no. Right now, this is all too close to those nightmares.

He swallows, unable to find the right words, and nods instead.

"Why did you ask me out if you weren't even going to pay attention to me?" she asks.

Danny's mouth stays clamped shut as his earlier fears are realized. Her rant was for more than just Johnny.

"You asked me if this outfit was new." Sam skims her fingers along the lace of her stockings, tracing the spiderweb patterns hidden within. "I didn't lie when I answered. I bought this a few months ago for homecoming. It was our last one, and I thought... I thought you were going to ask me to it."

"But that's not..."

"Yeah, I didn't wear it."

The dress she did wear was fancier, with layered skirts and glittering black beads.

"I bought this one because I knew you wouldn't care if I dressed fancy or not. And I know you don't like to unless you have to." She nods to Danny's casual outfit. "So when you asked me out, I already knew what I wanted to wear, because I know you. But this whole time, you haven't acted like the Danny I know and care about. You've been clingy, and overly accommodating, but at the same time ignoring everything I wanted. And when you weren't doing that, you were watching Johnny?"

Sam ducks her head and looks away. With the brim of her hat hiding her face, he can't see her, but the quiet sniffle she makes is unmistakable.

A rotten taste seeps through Danny's mouth. This was supposed to be a nice first date, but all he did was make Sam cry.

"I know I say I don't care about this stuff. I say it all the time, but..." She reaches up, carefully dabs at her eyes so she doesn't ruin her makeup. "I wanted you to look at me."

Danny finally finds his voice. "Sam, God, no. You're beautiful. When I saw you? Holy crap, I couldn't breathe. You're always beautiful. Not that that's the only reason I like you! You're my best friend. I love your passion, and your smarts, and how you won't put up with guys like Johnny getting away with any of their shit. Or me getting away with mine. I love so much about you, and I love–"

He cuts himself off before the last word, the unsaid "you" hanging between them. He knows what he meant. She probably does, too. Now isn't the right time to say it, though, so he lets his voice fade to quiet.

The Ferries wheel jerks to a stop, their carriage rocking back and forth, and the ride technician opens the door for them.

"Hey, weren't there for of you before?" she asks.

"They got off early," Danny says. He ignores the startled look on the technician’s face as he rises to his feet. On instinct, he reaches toward Sam but holds back at the last moment. Clingy. The word echoes in his head. He wavers, unsure what to do.

Sam takes the choice away from him, jerking to her feet before he can decide. She touches his hand, but doesn't take it and brushes past him, exiting the carriage onto the boardwalk.

"Harsh," the technician whispers.

"I deserve it," Danny mutters back before running after Sam. She walks at a brisk pace, weaving through the crowd toward the line of booths. Danny catches up as she reaches the first tent. "Where are we going?"

"We need to make sure Johnny and Kitty haven't trashed anything, don't we?" Sam says.

"Right, yeah." Danny wishes his ghost sense would go off. At the very least, it could tell them if Johnny and Kitty were close by, but that only worked if they left his range in the first place. In his freshman year, they might have, but today his range stretched over most of the boardwalk, if not the whole thing.

As it turns out, tracking them is easy even without Danny's sense. When he and Sam reach the tightest cluster of game booths, they find a trail of destruction. Fallen stands, scattered prizes, and shattered lights guide them through the maze of booths and back out into the main thoroughfare.

"This looks tame for Shadow," Sam comments.

"Twenty bucks says Johnny did it," Danny says as they pick their way through shattered boards.

"Not Kitty?"

"Right now, the only person she's mad at is Johnny. But when Johnny gets mad, he isn't the only source of bad luck in their trio," Danny explains. It doesn't come out often, since Shadow does most of the fighting, but he has seen it often enough to recognize the effects.

When they leave the booths behind, they find themselves near the boardwalk entrance. In the middle of the wide path, Johnny and Kitty are locked in a screaming match. Or Kitty screams while Johnny wilts with every new word.

"It was always supposed to be our place, Johnny! And you ruined it!" She beat her fist against his chest, wailing all the while.

Johnny's silence under the onslaught speaks volumes. He doesn't even look mad anymore, just heartbroken.

"All I ever wanted, and you couldn't even—!" She stops, shuddering, and takes a deep breath. Her next words come out quiet. "If you hadn't tried to look at that stupid girl! If you had just watched the road like you were supposed to!" A gut-wrenching sob cuts her off. "Leave me alone, Johnny."

She turns on her heels and runs toward the nearest building. For a moment, it doesn't look like Johnny is going to follow. His legs tremble, seconds from collapsing beneath him. He manages to lift his gaze, though, and finally notices the sign hanging over the building that Kitty missed: Hall of Mirrors.

"Shit! Kitty, wait!" he calls, but she ignores him. With another swear, he leaps up and flies after her.

"Oh, no," Danny says. He sprints across the boards, Sam following without question. They're halfway to the house of mirrors when they hear a piercing scream followed by a crash. The building crackles. Something inside pulses, imperceptible to regular humans, but it makes Danny stagger.

"Danny, what's going on?"

Before he can answer, a wave of power surges from the house and everything goes back.

—

Danny wakes to a sharp ringing in his ears. Hazy light edges his vision. His hearing returns slowly. First, the muffled sound of his name, then the fizzle and pop of broken lights, and finally the soft rumbling of a gathered crowd.

All at once, Danny becomes aware. Sam hovers at his side, her hair tousled, a thin cut on her temple, and her hat in her hands. He sits up, squeezing his eyes shut when the world spins around him. Sam provides a steady hand, rubbing small circles on his back until he can open his eyes again. Around them, the stalls are dark. Thirty feet out in every direction from the house of mirrors, every light is broken. Glass litters the boardwalk. The normally glowing entrance to the park is dark, the metal twisted. Beyond that, the ticket booth lies on its side.

Directly ahead of them, a large crack splits the house of mirrors.

"What... what was that?" Sam asks. "It was like Shadow's power but way bigger. I've never... did Johnny do that? I didn't know he could."

Danny groans, rubbing his head. The piercing ring lingers in the back of his head, and it probably won't fade for a while, but it is not so bad that he can't ignore it. "Normally, yeah, but..." He grimaces. "We should get in there."

Sam nods and helps Danny to his feet, pulling him up by the arm. He staggers toward the broken attraction with Sam at his shoulder, casting wary glances all around them.

The gathered crowd isn’t big, yet. It looks like Danny was the only one knocked off his feet, the only one really affected by the ghostly surge—three guesses as to why that is, and the first two don't count. Judging by the sparks still raining down down from the shattered lights, it has only been a minute since the surge. Security isn't here yet. That gives them some time.

The employee manning the attractions sits on the boards, staring wide-eyed at the broken building. He doesn't even blink as Danny and Sam slip through the curtain.

Inside, it's dark. The lights are all down. Glass crunches under their shoes, every mirror in sight shattered, leaving blank boards behind. Johnny and Kitty aren't far from the entrance, no more than a few feet. Sam sees them first, catches the glow of their auras in the corner of her eye, and points toward a dead-end alcove after the first bend in the maze.

Kitty is tucked against Johnny's chest, her jacket pulled up around her head. Johnny has his arms around her waist, and his soft voice provides the only noise beyond the glass under Danny and Sam's feet.

When Johnny hears them, lifts his head, just enough to glare at them through the darkness. No threats spill from his lips, though, and he goes back to comforting Kitty soon enough.

Danny can't help it. He looks down at the mirror shards below them, and immediately wishes he didn't. Bloody road rash stretches up Kitty's right side, torn to the bone. Her face, protected by the darkness around them, and the shadows of her jacket, remains hidden from Danny's prying eyes. He prefers it that way.

A gentle nudge at his side reminds him that Sam is with them.

"What's going on?" she mouths.

Danny crouches, carefully not to make too much noise, and picks up a shard of glass. Johnny still hears him, though, and Shadow rises threateningly at the sight of the glass. Danny holds up a placating hand, then motions to Sam, the glass, then himself.

No matter what low opinion Johnny has of Danny right now, he wouldn't stoop so far as to expose other ghosts like that. To Danny's surprise, however, Johnny thrusts an arm out and motions for the glass. Danny raises his eyebrows. Johnny sticks his hand out further. Without complaint, Danny passes it over.

Johnny holds the glass up, angling it so that they can see his face. He and Kitty have matching road rash.

Sam gasps.

"Come on," Danny says to Johnny and Kitty. "Security will come soon. And if they see a couple of ghosts, you know they'll call my parents."

Kitty sniffs. Danny can't see her well behind the jacket, but the way her hair bobs, he assumes she nodded. All four of them go intangible, Danny lending his power to Sam. They slip through the mirrors toward the side of the building and step out into the open air. As Johnny continues to comfort Kitty, Danny creeps toward the corner of the building and peers out into the open. They left just in time. A security guard pushes through the gathered crowd and heads for the front entrance.

Danny retreats before anyone can see him, leaning against the side of the building. He shudders.

"I didn't know that could happen," Sam whispers as she comes up beside Danny.

"Not your fault. Ghosts don't make a point of going near mirrors," he says.

"You do, all the time. I saw you in a mirror this week."

"In your locker, yeah. But I'm not a ghost all the time. It doesn't work when I'm in human form."

"So, when you picked up the glass..." Sam trails off. Danny doesn't answer, letting her fill in the blanks for herself.

Neither of them says anything for a long moment. They hear the shout of the security guard, calling an al clear. Danny feels sorry for the workers at the park who have to deal with the aftermath. It didn't affect the whole boardwalk—he can see the Ferris wheel operating just fine, and a glow in the air from the game booth lights.

"Hey, kid."

Danny lifts his head toward Johnny.

"We're heading out. Consider us even."

"Thanks for showing her." Danny tilts his head back and thumps it against the wall of the house of mirrors. "You know, so I didn't have to."

Johnny shrugs. "Yeah, whatever. You're too young to deal with that shit, is all. Take care of your girl, alright?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Kitty is already gone, and Johnny goes invisible before Danny can think of a reply, leaving him and Sam alone.

"You never actually answered," Sam says, breaking the silence between them. "About why you took the double date."

Thank God it's too dark for Sam to see Danny's face go scarlet. In retrospect, of course Johnny's idea wouldn't end well, Danny was just so desperate he was willing to risk it.

"I asked him for dating advice," he mutters.

Sam splutters, a startled laugh bursting out of her. "What?"

"I couldn't think of anyone else to ask, so we made a deal. He invites us on a double date and gives me some tips, and I don't tell Kitty I caught him at the girl's college."

"You are such a dork." Sam snickers. "Is that why you kept watching him? I thought for a second me and Kitty might need to band together to keep you two apart."

Danny groans. "Please don't say that. Tucker already got me with that."

"Good. I hope he did." Sam shuffles over, leaning against Danny, and rests her head on his shoulder. "Danny, I don't need to hang off you like some soul-bound lovebird. We've known each other for ten years. I don't need some idealized romance, I just need you."

Danny feels like an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. The date might have been a train wreck, but half the boardwalk is still functioning. Maybe the evening doesn't have to be a total waste. He pulls the roll of game tickets—a precious commodity at the boardwalk—from his pocket and holds them out.

"Want to win Tucker that shark?" he asks.

Sam laughs, her shoulder shaking against his. "Only if we can ride the spaceship car on the Tilt-a-Whirl."

"Deal."

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mrs-nate-humphrey · 3 years ago

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I am curious: what are your favorite scenes from your main ships (date, dair, derena...)?

scenes involving milo don't count, sorry!

for me, it's really not just scenes, but body language & just in general, how they are with each other, you know? dan and serena grin at each other and hug SO much, you can tell that being around each other in s1 made them both so happy, and even after that glow fades the way they look for comfort in each other... top level stuff. the way blair looks at dan... we never see her as radiant at any other point. she was not looking at anyone else like this. and gosh, dan and nate. they're both so comfortable around each other that there's absolutely nothing weird about like. discussing that one ex girlfriend whom they both share AND both were in love with. there is literally no other duo who trusts/enjoys each other's company so much that they're comfortable in a love triangle. (probably because they're more in love with each other than with the girl, but that is not the point. or is it?)

anyway, more specific answers. under the cut. this is one of the longest answers i've ever written on this blog possibly but you KNEW that would happen when you sent this ask, didn't you? (affectionate)

derena: i tagged one of my ds reblogs as 'the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one' and like. look at them! this hug from 1x10 kills me in the best way. they are both the literal embodiment of :D when they see each other! i love 1x10 as a whole moment, their entire thing at cotillion is so sweet and they're both so happy. the fact that he is talking about his chemistry teacher during this kiss in 1x07. that bit at the end of 1x05 when they talk about their siblings (being there for their sibling because of fallible parents being a derena parallel makes me simultaneously really sad and really soft, tbh). 1x05 gives me SO MUCH SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT but the way they walk off together arms around each other does something to me - these are two people who are still getting to know each other but who really like what they see, and who trust each other and. are just having a good time together! back when derena was my OTP, the 1x11 "your story's about me?" was absolutely a fave, too, and i still adore it, albeit in a different, more nostalgic way. i like a dan who writes cute stories about serena. no empty shell sabrina van skoneker bullshit. she is so much like you, daniel! you'd be shattered if she did this to you. don't do this to her. tbh, most derena moments from s1 are just A+ romance. the bit in 2x02 in the jitney is so funny, they're SO bad at being exes. the bit in... 3x03 i think?? i don't remember... on the contrary. when they're talking about dan's fling w/ georgina and serena's relationship with carter, the ease with which they talk and how happy/supportive they are of each other's new relationships... yeah. love to see it.

i also really like any instance of them having honest/open conversations. 1x13, talking about how serena is concerned about blair. 1x08, serena talking to dan about feeling jealous of vanessa. this bit from the touch of eva or whatever that episode is. 4x04 i think. this is the conversation everyone is trying to get dan to have and he's avoiding EVERYONE else. derena interactions in 3x21 (can't find a gif right now) - the fact that dan is with serena when her dad abandons them, the fact that he goes all the way there with her. 2x07, "i'm really glad you're nate's friend. he really needs someone like you right now" (though i'm cheating, that's technically a d/n moment too klhdflkgf). there's a bit in s4 where he's advising her against having an affair w/ colin, i don't remember the ep number, but the way he takes her side so easily and naturally and puts due blame/responsibility solely on her professor... yeah. 4x10 i think this ep is?? idk. but like my tags say, im sentimental about this moment because while what dan was doing was irresponsible, sneaking her out of the ostroff, he was the only person in this episode who was actually talking to her and listening to her and taking her seriously. nobody else was doing that!!

i probably have more moments i'm not remembering, but we're only 1/3 into this answer and LOOK AT THE WORDS, good lord, i'm sorry.

dair: my favourite dair episode is hands down despicable b (5x21) which i have heard is an uncommon answer. i just love the conflict resolution of it all, okay!!! 1x04 & 2x08 are like. standard answers any dair shipper will give, and i'm no different. i love dan being able to give blair advice and blair actually taking his advice even though they're not friends yet!!! be right back, yelling at the intimacy of it all!! 5x16, with their getting together (this little kiss and dan being so startled by it), blair admitting a flaw she genuinely does have and dan saying it's not awful because it's her, which is just. romance at its finest. those vows, good lord. 5x18.... they're having fun! blair showing up at the loft in lingerie for dan... the delight on her face.... (i know this moment blows up in their face but when she's there she looks so happy and proud of herself and this was like THE moment when i was like. oh. dair is really the heart of this garbage show huh).

i think for me, the thing that really sells dan & blair together is the serena of it all. both of them love serena more fiercely than anyone else, and that is what brings them together. (fwiw i definitely think nate loved serena this much and this deeply, too; the writers just wanted to pop the serenate balloon, which even i think was extremely unnecessary and ooc.) but (& i have so much meta about this) their relationship grows beyond serena. their entire s4 arc is SO good. i love how comfortable around each other they are, in such an adult way, in the sense of like. they both bring so much stability to each other? morgan tagged this edit "the marrieds" and like. yeah. b offers to help him shave. they're having breakfast & reading the paper together.

all the love declarations we got that weren't a simple 'i love you.' be your charming wonderful self (how could she not love you/ tell me what would make you happy, dan) i told chuck he doesn't have my heart anymore (you spent your life earning the keys to set you free when you were free all along!!!!) dan's pep talk to blair in 5x21 (already linked a gifset earlier, here's another one if you want i guess). there's definitely more... but honestly, the way the dair arc was executed was so good - while i do have my complaints, i also think keeping those aside, it was SO close to perfect. i love dan & blair's banter and gradually becoming closer and closer and closer. it felt very organic and real and GOSH. the way penn & leighton looked at each other while playing dan and blair...... it's just SO MUCH.

date: this is the hardest, because it's. *screams*. maybe you saw me losing my mind over those 2 seconds of nate handing dan a waffle? i love almost every scene with these two, even the hellish s6 breakup scene. my favourite episode for d/n (& also favourite gg episode in general) is 2x06 - i love the homoerotic subtext of it all. nate pretending to be dan because dan's name is the first name that came to his head. dan flirting w/ nate while tied to that thing, in his underwear. them becoming friends. and 2x07 as a follow-up to that! dan getting nate to live in the loft with the humphreys for a while. i am so soft.

4x09 is a terrible episode in general, especially for serena my beloved, but the d/n moments in that one? off the CHARTS. this weird overly macho flirting, in some ways THE most iconic d/n line. this entire finish each other's sentences nonsense. someone (i think it was ana but im not sure?) compared the energy of those scenes i just linked to the book blairenate love triangle resolution, blairena choosing each other over nate in the books, date choosing each other over serena in the show (if only! RIP.) after the saints & sinners ball, this cute little moment of 'youre the only one who understands me. please tell me they went home together. i mean. how could they not have.

3x07, them watching vampire porn together. a tag i used on ao3 (& also on here, once) is 'nate brings out the himbo in dan'. here is a prime example. 'is she levitating?' i don't fucking know, dan, what do you think?? (i was telling my partner that that's what i love abt dair vs date. around blair dan is an intellectual, a librarian, an art historian, a museum curator. around nate it's like dan is competing to be #1 himbo on the show. can my girlfriend actually fly? i don't know, dan. i can't believe you're seriously asking such a question.)

3x12 pep talk. (sorry about the shitty quality!) essentially nate telling dan that he (dan) is hot and that he shouldn't talk himself down so much.

dan making nate gay in his book. you know. his book from which blair found out he was in love with her. nads (who i will not tag in this billion word long gushy meta, because i value her sanity) once called inside "wish fulfilment' and. i mean. yeah

nate checking dan out at the derena wedding continues to be hilarious. hilarious in the same way as dan sexually fantasising about nate. canon really went 'let's give ivy some special easter eggs' and i appreciate them a lot!

i love the way they are around each other - so quietly attuned to each other. i showed my sister my date!husbands gifset, and she was like. yeah they're so married. and it's just stuff like how dan looks for nate over his shoulder, it's not even an active action, it's as easy and natural and intuitive as breathing, checking to see if nate is still there.

oh, that wasn't as hard as it could've been! okay. cool. im SURE there's more things i could scream about, because it's DN, the fact that they're non-canon makes me THAT much fiercer about them than dair/derena, to be honest. so many dots to connect!! anyway.

#meta #derena #dair #date #anon #this is SUCH a gushy essay but like. what did you expect #how else could i have answered this #this took. an embarrassingly long amount of time #but i had SO much fun so #citations for my ships #don't mind me *whistles under my breath*

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

Photo

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

Interview with Rae

Rae has 16 stories at Gossamer. If you like MSR, you should go check them out, including (but not limited to) the fun-titled, banter-filled The Cat, an Espresso and a Bag of Sunflower Seeds. Big thanks to Rae for doing this interview.

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

It surprises me that anyone reads my fanfic at all, let alone they are reading it 20 years after I wrote it!

But in the same vein, I am still actively reading xfiles fanfic and I tend to read the older fics, or new fics by authors I recognize or remember from back in the day. I cannot explain this lack of rationale. 🤷

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I had a great experience with the X-Files fandom! I made some fantastic friends - many even attended my wedding! I didn't really get involved in the dramas that went on. I was aware of it, but really, I just wanted to discuss my show with people that loved it like I did and read the fic, so I ignored all the other static.

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

Mainly message boards. AOL chat rooms, Yahoo groups, etc. We would all sign on after the episode aired and chat about it. Deconstruct it. And then we started traveling to meet each other and the real fun began!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

It was definitely a growing experience. It forced me to step outside my comfort zone a little bit. Traveling to NYC, LA and Chicago to meet people just to fangirl with. Meeting Gillian and getting a picture with her - it was wild.

Different shared experiences that "real life" family and friends just didn't understand. It was fun and exciting.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

So I came to the show late in the game. I was sick, lying in bed channel surfing and caught the last 5 minutes of Fight the Future and immediately wanted to know why this woman was sitting in the snow holding onto this man. I spent the summer recording episodes on FX during the week and watching them all weekend and was somehow able to pretty much catch up on the first 6 seasons in time for the 7th season premiere.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

In my quest to know all the things that summer before the 7th season, I discovered AOL chat rooms that led me to different discussions on the show in general and at one point, a link was posted to whatever fanfic was hot that minute and I was instantly hooked.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I often feel like a wallflower at a party. I'm on the fringe, looking in to see what's going on. I don't bother anyone and most people don't even know I'm there. Every now and then I'll send feedback on a story, or I might even participate in a random discussion, but I feel it's a little more difficult these days without the chatrooms and discussion boards. Following people on tumblr or twitter and trying to engage in those platforms is more awkward since it feels so much more personal. It's like I'm intruding on someone's personal space. Or having to scroll through non-fandom stuff to find the fic. The message boards were a more even playing field I guess? It's hard to explain.

When I'm hardcore searching for something...anything to read, I'll refer to "The Classics" list. There are still many on there I haven't read.

I miss ephemeral.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No. No other characters have ever interested me beyond the story we're given within the confines of the show/movie/book like Mulder and Scully did. My friends would dive into Harry Potter or Marvel or (fill in the blank with anything) and I would try to get excited, but there's nothing.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Well, Scully because she's so bad-ass. She's always so certain of her convictions. We don't see her second-guess herself often.

Anne of Green Gables because against all odds, she still sees the beauty in everything.

Jo in Little Women because she is just so tenacious. She knows what she wants.

Hermione in Harry Potter. She knows the most important thing she'll do is help Harry and there is value in that, so she gives it all she's got.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I do. A couple of years after the original run was over, I lost a dear friend (met because of XF) and then later I had my first baby and life just got busy in a very different way so I fell out of the fandom and just dropped all of it.

And then there was the revival. I waited until all episodes aired and then binge-watched them. And I did the same with season 11, but waited about 6 mos after it aired to watch it, rewatching the whole series from the beginning, first.

But now I turn it on a few times a week while I'm folding laundry or making dinner or some other chore. It's nice to have it on in the background because I don't have to pay close attention because I know what's going to happen. I've actually watched the whole series a few times this way.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I still read XF fic. It's still my favorite thing to read. I am always looking for the next great fic to lose myself in. Back in the day, I would read any pairing, any genre...I was game for anything, as long as it was XF fic. I'm a little more choosy, now, but only because my free-time is more limited. I only want to read MSR and I'm not at all interested in revival fics.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I am partial to the novel-length AU and canon-divergent stories. I love everything by Prufrock's Love and Bonetree. I have read Paracelsus, A Moment in the Sun and the Goshen/Secret World series countless times. Journal 1999 and Journal 2000 by MD1016, The Mastodon Diaries by akaJake, Blinded by White Light by Dashak, Deliverance From Evil by Char Chaffin and Tess.

I could go on all day.

My absolute favorite story is Arizona Highways by Fialka.

I am partial to Scully angst. And the Emily storyline just kills me, so when authors take those elements and write a kick-ass story, I am there for it.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

How awful is it that I had to look up my fics to answer this question? I don't know that I have a favorite. That's like asking a mother which child she favors. Maybe One of the Damned.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I won't say never, but I don't think so. I've tried to start one or two with some ideas I've had, but I haven't gotten far with them.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

No. I don't even have time to read as often as I would like to.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Usually what if scenarios - I try to work out different ways the story could go in my head. I would usually have the guts of the story written in my head before I typed the first word.

What's the story behind your pen name?

There was already a well-known Rachel posting fic when I got started, so I just decided to go with a nickname - Rae.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband is crazy supportive and tries to convince me to write again All. The. Time. I never hid my XF obsession from anyone, but I don't think I told many people about my writing.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I am on tumblr and twitter, but like I said above, I don't really post. All of my stories are at Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 9, 2021)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #rae

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vickyvicarious · 4 years ago

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Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about.

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

#leverage fic #leverage ff #leverage ot3 #hardison/parker/eliot #thiefsome #my fic #anonymous #replies #aah they are hard to write much as i love them

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

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Okay you mentioned Kohga having the hots for king Rhoam. I'm sorry, but can we see something with that???

I make ONE fucking joke, and Ya'll take it to the next level. Fuck you, let's get this over with.

"Kingie! Long time no see big guy!"

Kohga was planning on just hanging out at the hideout today, when he was given a summon by the king. Not that Kohga minded a trip to the castle, he was always fed pretty well. He dove in for a high five with the king, but from the way he glared, he could tell he was NOT in the mood. Even the blade master he brought with him had to cringe at the rejection. Sooga joined him too, but seemed unfazed by the rather cold attitude.

"I'm glad you came at such short notice. I have something very important to discuss with you."

"Oh is it about the fact that we're buying up all the bananas? Look, we still gotta do SOMETHING evil to-"

"It's NOT."

His voice was steely, firm. Someone was NOT happy. His glare was so menacing, his boys took a step forward, as if the king was about to try to beat his ass. Kohga patted their shoulders, making them ease up a bit.

"Easy boys, easy. Look, you two wait out here, imma have a chat with Kingy here."

Sooga of course held protests, but Kohga held his hand up, silencing him.

"Trust me. You two hunks can dash in and protect me at any time. Not that I need it. Though I DO like the attention."

His men bowed, keeping their place. Kohga followed King Rhoam, right to his secret study, in the library, beyond the metal book case. He hated royals, but he had to hand it to Rhoam, there were so many sneaky spaces to hide and explore (and coming from the chief of the Yiga clan, that was high praise). Rhoam shut it behind them both, and Kohga took a look around. This was way different from the main rooms in the castle. Much more personal, snuggly even. A few crates of supplies, a desk full of scattered books, a few chairs, and even a few weapons hung on the wall besides them.

"Nice spot. How many people know about this little place?"

"The ones who built it, and my daughter."

"Well, aren’t I special?"

Kohga chuckled, pulling up a seat and helping himself to the surprisingly comfy chair. He might steal this, honestly. King Rhoam took a seat in front of him, clearing his throat.

"I suppose you're wondering why I summoned you?"

"If it's not about the bananas, then no not at all."

Kohga was already kinda bored, and he started to hum, playing with his hands. He found it easier than just sitting there and looking someone in the face.

"It's about my daughter, Zelda. She complained about you."

Kohga stopped, finally looking at his face. He was about to ask if he was serious, and apparently he was.

"Whaaaat? ME? What did I do?"

He sighed, before folding his arms across his chest.

"She is growing tired of your men. Apparently you give them permission to try to court her."

Kohga wanted to argue with that, but then he thought about it. He was kinda at fault, getting whatever clan member interested to hit on her. Flowers, treats, poetry, even just getting a few smooth talkers to try their hands at getting her attention. He just shipped Mipha and Link so hard, he decided to boot out the competition. Not that he hated her, of course not. Kohga shrugged.

"How is that a problem? I'm throwing HUNKS at her! No clue how that makes ME the bad guy! It’s because they’re Yiga, isn’t it?”

“It’s because she’s already in love with her knight. I’m already planning on giving him my blessings, should they finally decide to wed.”

Kohga should’ve expected it honestly, this old fashioned kinda ranting. Sure they were both kinda up there in age, but they were NOT alike. Kohga shook his head, standing up from his seat.

“Look, I don’t have kids, so I dunno what it does to ya, but you’re taking things WAY outta proportion here. You’re already ready for your daughter, seventeen, to get married.”

King didn’t seem to get it, as if this was a totally normal thing.

“Well yes. Royals marry around this age, why dawdle?”

Kohga put his hand on Rhoam’s shoulder, who didn’t seem to love it, but didn’t exactly push Kohga off.

“Look, let the girl have a little FUN before she gets hitched! She’s got the rest of her life for that stuff, if anything I’m just giving her choices.”

“I’m...not following.”

“For the love of- look. If she wants me to back off, I’ll tell my guys to heel. But I don’t really think she’d complain about me. She only really clams up about you. So it’s why I’m thinking SHE’S not complaining. YOU are.”

He knew by the look in his face that he was right. Kohga chuckled, hands on his hips.

“You don’t gotta lie like that! Makin’ me think I was a bad guy here! If YOU have problems, say you do. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen, but at least you wouldn't be a liar.”

His brows furrowed, but Kohga found it hard to take him seriously at this point.

“I am saying this for the sake of my daughter. If she is to remain pure-”

“Oh great, purity culture bullshit. Look, Kingy, don’t blame her for the fact that you haven’t gotten any lately.”

He put his hand over his chest, as if he had something just terribly hurtful.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You heard me! You know If I didn’t know any better, you’re just mad because everyone’s gettin’ some lovin’ but you.”

Kohga leaned against the King’s chair. This was some juicy shit, you bet your bananas he was gonna milk it for all it was worth.

“When WAS the last time you got off? Few months?”

King Rhoam looked at him as if he had gone insane, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Almost nineteen years, roughly.”

“Holy-you haven’t nutted since your kid was born? Fucks sake, I’d be grumpy as hell too, no wonder.”

He wasn’t even expecting him to answer, honestly. King Rhoam scoffed, as if regretting giving him a response.

“We’re derailing the topic at hand-”

“Now now, I’m not done yet.”

Kohga moved in front of him, one hand at the chair, and pinning Rhoam between the seat, and Kohga’s face.

“Look, I get it. You wanna take care of what you have, you’re constantly stressed, I can only imagine how bad you have it. And knowing I was the cause of some of that stress? Selfish of me really. Let me make it up to you there, Kingy.”

Rhoam looked perplexed at his choice of words, like he figured he would be. Kohga always did have the hots for the clueless ones.

“I’m saying, let me end your streak.”

Still nothing. Holy hell, he forgot he loved idiots. He sighed, pointing down to the king’s crotch.

“Let me polish the royal scepter. Take a gander at the royal jewels. I’m essentially saying let me get you off.”

THAT seemed to get a rise out of the king, given the way he damn near jumped out of his chair.

“That is NOT why I summoned you here! In the SLIGHTEST! The AUDACITY!”

Kohga let go off the chair, putting his hands on his hips.

“One, you have the audacity to NOT immediately say yes, I’m a goddamn treat. Two, why the hell not? You ever fuck anyone that WASN’T the Queen?”

No response. So that was a no. Oh this was going to be some fucking fun. Kohga put his hands on his knees, leaning in so his mask was so close to touching his face.

“Tell you what, because I like newbies. You let me do my thing. And if you don’t like it, you just say the word. In exchange, I’ll tell my guys to heel. Eh? Cool offer?”

King Rhoam didn’t immediately say no, like he expected him to. He seemed stunned at first, but hey, you miss every shot you don’t take. He was going to get a no any-

“Alright. Fine. So long as this does NOT leave this study.”

Holy SHIT. This guy did NOT just say yes. Kohga fumbled a bit, clearly not knowing how to react. He wasn’t bluffing in the slightest, he just had no clue that the king would ACTUALLY take him up on that. He chuckled, poking Rhoam on his nose.

“Well look at you! Growin’ outta that royal shell, color me surprised! Alright, stays between us. Now, you just sit right there, and let ol’ Kohga do his thing.”

He made the king tilt his head up a bit, so he couldn’t see him. Not letting him see what he was doing would make him freak out a lot less, and he could be in denial about the fact that a dude was gonna suck him off. Kohga pushed aside his mask, just enough to reveal his lips, before he got down on his knees. He parted the King’s legs, taking but a moment to massage them. Lot’s of clothes made the guy look almost fat, but Kohga knew better. Those were some toned muscles under that, just how Kohga imagined. He kept massaging for a moment longer, getting him used to being touched, before he un did his belt, and pulling him free of his cloth confines. And holy. Shit. King Rhoam was a dilf dream down here. He wasn’t absolutely massive, but he certainly wasn’t a pipsqueak. He was long, thick, with plenty of white pubic hair. Kohga softly stroked the length of it, and watched as Rhoam seemed to freeze upon the contact.

“Right right, been a while. I’ll go slow, I’ll go slow. Easy does it.”

He had a rather lovely curve downward, and Kohga could only picture how well it’d go down his throat. He kept his motions nice and slow, till he noticed the King’s grip on the armrests loosen. Then he started to up the ante, just a little bit. With his other hand, he cupped his balls, lightly rubbing them in his palm. Then he heard him groan. It was faint, but Kohga caught it. That was the sound of a man who hadn’t been touched in a long, long time. Even by himself, apparently. He was already getting stiff in his hand.

“You’ve...done this before.”

“Not with a royal at least. But yeah, Kohga’s seen a few bananas in his day.”

Rhoam clearly had some kind of retort, before he seemed to jump upon feeling Kohga kiss the head. Kohga tried not to snicker, finding his sensitivity just hilarious. His age seemed to not affect his need for attention. Especially given that a few kisses around the base was enough to get him nice and hard in his hand. He made his touch a bit firmer on his balls, and his stroking a bit quicker on his length. And Rhoam was LOVING it. His head was tossed back, his breathing got all nice and fast, and he could see, past that beard, him biting his bottom lip.

“There we go, all nice and comfy. Any chance you want me to stop here?”

Rhoam was so out of it, he couldn’t do anything but shake his head. Kohga chuckled. He was gonna love this. Feeling him start to throb in his hand, he decided to really wow ol’ Kingy here. He pulled his hand away, using it to palm at himself, before he put the head right in his mouth. Rhoam’s breath hitched, and Kohga loved that. Love how he was making a royal so weak. He pushed himself to make more, stopping shy of halfway down his length. It was enough to make Rhoam squirm in his seat, and even put his hand right on top of Kohga’s head. How cute. Kohga groaned as he pushed his head back and forth, really getting a feel for that thick cock. Then he pulled away, nice and slowly, drool still connecting them.

"Why did you-"

"You were about to cum. I could tell. I want this to be REALLY good for you, so you're going to wait."

"I DEMAND you-"

He was halted when Kohga took a hold of his balls. Nothing too hard, just enough to get him to shut up.

"No no no. You don't get that attitude with me. You rule Hyrule, I rule your cock. I decide when you cum. And because you wanna act up, you get a punishment. Look at me."

Rhoam looked, despite not wanting to, at all. Kohga kept massaging him, tediously and slowly.

"You wanna cum? You wanna shoot your load down my pretty throat? You gotta ask for it like a grown up. No tantrums. Go on. Ask."

Rhoam clearly didn't want to, but Kohga’s lips (and throat) was a blessing, not a right. So he sighed, and made himself obey.

"I...would like to orgasm-"

"Try again. Cum. Make me WANT it."

Rhoam swallowed, before trying again.

"I would...like to cum. In your mouth."

"There we go, much better. Knew you could be a polite boy."

He took a minute to suckle at his balls, really coating them in drool, before taking Rhoam fully in his mouth. That's right, every bit of that royal cock found it's way into his mouth, and Kohga gagged. It was intentional, and it made Rhoam moan desperately. So close. Kohga wasted no more time, and acted like the perfect dick sucker he knew he was.

Kohga was relentless. He groaned loudly as he bobbed his head back and forth, practically fucking his own mouth from the force. Rhoam was really getting into it now, cursing and panting under his breath, especially when Kohga pulled away to aggressively suck at his tip. Kohga was absolutely, and positively cock hungry, and he wasn’t afraid at all to show it. Kohga slurped, and gagged, slurped and gagged, grumbling as if he was an animal, greedy for the chance of tasting cum. Then he got it.

King Rhoam came, and Kohga gulped it down, only pulling away to smear it against his throbbing length. It was a big load, just how he thought it'd be. Ribbons and ribbons of cum littered their clothes, the floor, and the insides of his stomach. He pulled away once he knew no more would be cumming, feeling no more reason to. King Rhoam was a SIGHT to behold. A shaking, panting, cum covered mess. Kohga chuckled, taking a quick second to clean up. A good cock sucker could clean himself up in a flash, as if nothing ever happened. He stood back up, pulling King Rhoam’s face by his beard, and he kissed him. Not because he liked him, nor did he think he was cute. It was because there was something humiliating about making the King himself, taste his own load. He pulled away, wiping his lips, and putting his mask right back down. He could see that little bit of cum on his lips, and it was so goddamn funny to him.

“Glad we had this little chit chat, Kingy wingy. You ever need to get a load of your chest, you know who to send for. Though, I don’t do anything for free. Can I take the chair?”

Rhoam just sat there, looking bewildered, before he gently nodded. Kohga clapped his hands a bit, grabbing the chair, and giving Rhoam a little bit of a wave. He managed to meet up with Sooga and the Blade master, who didn’t even get to say hello before he made them carry the chair he was holding. Sooga looked at it curiously, turning to Kohga.

“Are we stealing this?”

“Nope! Said I could have it! It’s a real nice chair.”

“Why would he give it to you?”

“We had a nice long chat. Wasn’t something I saw...comin’”

Kohga grinned behind his mask. He was an absolute STUD, no doubts about that.

#asks #kohga #king rhoam #lemon #Just hang a sign on kohga #'will suck dick for nice furniture'

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #238: Unlimited Vision

December, 1983

He is Oz, the great and terrible. And he can see ALL.

So what’s going on here? Has Vision been in a tube-coma so long that they just decided to replace him with a giant hologram?

Dunno, but he sure is filling the room with too much pink energy and kirby crackle.

So, there’s been a bit leading up to this.

In Avengers #233, Vision and Scarlet Witch were called in as reservists to help the team with an invisible dome Annihilus was using to destroy the universe, as ya don’t do. When Vision intangibled into the dome, he immediately fell onto his face inert. After the crisis, Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic examined the synthezoid and said that nothing was actually seriously wrong and that Vision would be able to repair himself.

Despite that, he’s been inert in a tube since #234, moved into the Avengers Mansion so they could keep an eye on him. Maybe Reed doesn’t know shit because it’s been several issues!

The Avengers have been taking shifts watching Vision and the least suited to sitting still and watching an inert synthezoid is on duty as this issue opens.

“But being an Avenger, he’s discovered, doesn’t mean saving the universe every waking moment. Sometimes, it requires a lot of sitting... and watching... and waiting!”

Hahahahahah!

I might sympathize more if it weren’t for his full page rant.

Like this goes beyond bored and into ‘UGH I have to do something not immediately entertaining??’

Wait, I’m like that sometimes...

Starfox: “I just don’t understand! My father’s computer assured me that the Earth would be teeming with excitement and adventure -- and from previous experience, I knew that the Avengers invariably became involved in such adventures. But I haven’t seen a bit of action since we saved Project Pegasus from total destruction. That was more than a day ago! Now with Thor off on a mission in space... Captain America away on a personal mission... and the lovely ladies of the Avengers taking the afternoon off, naturally it’s the ‘trainee’ who gets stuck with keeping watch over the Vision!”

“By Chronos, is there no justice?! Where are the thrills, the challenges?!? Am I never to know satisfaction? I didn’t come all the way to Earth just to stand watch over some infernal android in a life-support-tube!”

“Ah, forgive me, friend Vision. I should not make you the object of my resentment. You were, after all, injured to end the threat of Annihilus. It’s just that sitting around and playing nursemaid to a comatose synthetic man is hardly my idea of fun!”

Vision: “I sympathize... but it has not been enjoyable for me either.”

HAH!

Imagine complaining so hard about having to go a day without an adventure that you wake a robot from a robot coma.

Over in a scene shift, there’s Monica “Captain Marvel” Rambeau trying out a boat in the Gulf of Mexico. The salesman is trying to close the deal but Monica finds herself distracted by the events of the previous issue.

Even though she saved the day from lava men and then stopped a nuclear meltdown, she still feels crappy that Moonstone and Blackout escaped AND that Blackout was able to capture her.

When the salesman finally gets her attention again she says she needs a bigger boat!

I’m still wondering what her new career is going to be! She’s taken out a small business loan and looking into buying a boat.

Possibly shark hunting?

Good on her for building a life away from avenging. You never know when you have to retire from superheroing and take up a civilian career.

Back at the Vision tube, Starfox sets up a voice amplifier on Vision’s tube so Vision can talk more easily.

It transpires that he didn’t just wake up in time to deliver the ultimate dunk on Starfox, he’s been conscious for several days. He’s been able to hear and see what’s been going on around him but he hasn’t been able to move or talk.

Starfox apologizes for his rant but Vision doesn’t actually mind.

Vision: “No offense taken. I found it entertaining in a way... I hadn’t heard such vitriol since the time the Beast found himself on monitor duty during the opening night of a Roger Corman film festival. As a matter of fact, I’ve enjoyed all of the one-way conversations that have gone on about me. Captain America’s war stories were most informative -- and the She-Hulk’s stories were quite amusing... If a bit tawdry!”

Amazing.

I actually like that the Avengers have been talking to Vision like a person in a meat coma and not ignoring him like a dysfunctioning fridge of a Jocasta.

He’s their buddy and they kept talking to him in hopes that somewhere he heard them. And he did!

Even all the dirty jokes!

Vision tells Starfox that he’s mostly confused about all the paralysis and that his repair systems haven’t restored his movement. He wishes that he could more fully analyze his condition.

Which gives Starfox a wonderful idea! A wonderful, terrible idea!

He calls up Jarvis on the video-intercom and asks what the range of the Avengers communication system is. Like. In terms of... interplanetary?

Jarvis: “All equipment is state-of-the-art, sir. I dare say we could make contact with any corner of the Solar System!”

I know that the Avengers deal with a lot of space nonsense so it makes sense that they’d need that range. Starcore-One and all.

Anyway, Starfox uses a tight beam signal to communicate allll the way to the master computer ISAAC on Titan.

Meanwhile, the three whole women on the Avengers (She-Hulk, Wasp, and Scarlet Witch) are on a mission together. A friend mission. A friend mission of find She-Hulk an apartment mission because that’s been a subplot for a while and She-Hulk deserves nice things.

Huh! If you ever wondered what the relative heights of some Avengers were here we are.

She-Hulk is most tall. Scarlet Witch is pretty tall. And Wasp is a short.

Comics being comics and not big on consistency, I’m sure this is contradicted a dozen different places. But its fun.

Of course, in the innocent 80s (??) people just weren’t used to seeing tall green woman a-walking down the street and gawk.

But it doesn’t bother She-Hulk like it used to.

She-Hulk: “I must be getting used to this town, Waspie! The gawkers don’t faze me in the least anymore. In fact, I’m starting to have fun, staring back!”

Wasp: “Uh-huh! I’ve noticed you practicing on our dreamy new trainee! Starfox is really something, isn’t he, She-Hulk?”

She-Hulk: “You know it!”

Scarlet Witch: Starfox does have a certain something in the way he carries himself...

She-Hulk: “I’ll bet that Starfox even does something for an old married lady like the witch!”

Scarlet Witch: “Wh-what?! Why, that’s ridiculous! I mean... that is... the Vision is the only man in my life!”

She-Hulk: “Aw, come on, Wanda! You’re married, not dead! ‘Fess up, don’t you like the way Starfox just sort of... stands around?”

Scarlet Witch: “Well, if you put it that way -- !”

Just some gals being friends and talking about how hot their new co-worker is.

Just objectifying a foxy guy... from space.

I like She-Hulk someone immediately sensing Wanda thinking about how hot Starfox is. She has a sixth sense for it.

And I fear because Janet “Aesthetic Appreciation for Every Man” Van Dyne now has a comrade in arms in Jennifer “What are inhibitions?” Walters.

The three arrive at the apartment building Jan found for Jen (not confusing at all). The rental agent isn’t around but Jan basically does whatever she wants and the door is open so they go in to look around.

And its a good apartment! Its got a terrace, high ceilings, deep carpeting! Its perfect for She-Hulk! The long subplot is finally at a resolution!

Alas.

The rental agent comes in and when he learns that its Jen who wants to rent the place. Really wants to rent the place. “You can draw up a lease -- I don’t care how much the rent is!” wants to rent the place. He has one (1) concern.

Rental agent: “My lord! You... you’re green!”

She-Hulk: “Yeah, and you’re a pasty shade of pink! So what?”

Rental agent: “I... I can’t rent to you! What would the other tenants say?”

Oo buddy that’s illegal under the Fair Housing Act. Especially if you just come out and say it. Granted, I don’t think it foresaw this exact scenario so let me rephrase. Oo buddy she is not shy about hurting people who annoy her.

She-Hulk: “Outta my way, Jan! I want to turn Mr. Pink black-and-blue!”

Wasp: “Forget it, Jennie! We’ll find a better place!”

But since Wanda doesn’t have any patience with bigotry, she uses her magic-science mutant magic to set off the fire sprinklers above Rental Agent.

I guess he’s allll washed up.

Back over in New Orleans, Monica returns to her apartment still hung up on Blackout and Moonstone getting away.

I guess it is her first failure as a superhero? It’s a very minor one but if you were on a winning streak before, it could knock you for a loop. Monica seems like the sort of person who holds herself to very high standards.

She considers calling the Avengers on her bracelet radio to see if there’s any leads on the two loose ends but then realizes that she can travel at the speed of light. She may as well just pop into the mansion!

Monica has cool powers.

But when she arrives inside the mansion, she sees a bunch of electronic components just floating through the mansion.

Soooo she follows them. Gotta see what’s going on.

She finds Starfox in the medical room constructing some apparatus around Vision’s tube.

Starfox explains that stuff be floating because ISAAC is using an attractor beam to assemble an apparatus. ISAAC being the Titan computer Integral Synaptic Anti-Anionic Computer.

It sure is cool that some Eternals that went to live on Titan before modern English existed still managed to name their computer ISAAC.

And its cool that ISAAC can apparently influence things like this halfway across the solar system.

Anyway, ISAAC is linked up with the main computers of Avengers’ Mansion to build a more specialized medical computer to get a better idea of what’s going on with Vision.

Vision: “It sounds complicated, Captain, but the principles involved are actually quite simple.”

Captain Marvel: “Vision? You spoke!”

Vision: “That seems to surprise everyone... pleasantly, I hope.”

He explains that if everything goes well with this apparatus, he hopes to be ambulatory again before tomorrow. And also, because he’s a class act, thanks Monica for the stories of New Orleans she shared when she was on Vision duty.

In a funny continuity nod, Vision notes that he and Wanda went to New Orleans once (in issue #152) but didn’t have time to sight-see. Because there was a lot of voodoo nonsense going on.

The Avengers tend to go all over the world but they also tend to be involved in nonsense and can’t enjoy it.

Monica isn’t sure whether they should go ahead with this without consulting the other Avengers but Starfox shrugs that it’s Vision’s decision.

Vision: “In that case, I choose to begin analysis immediately!”

In fairness, I’m sure he’s fed up with lying in a tube staring at the ceiling. Bring on the untested science! My god, just anything novel!

Starfox activates the devices, showing Vision’s body with unearthly energies whiiich makes him twitch and spasm and then a tiny Vision head pops out of his forehead gem.

Mazel tov?

I don’t think that was the intended outcome.

Outside, She-Hulk, Scarlet Wanda, and Wasp are returning from Apartment Quest.

Wanda mentions that she didn’t mean to be away from Vision this long.

Wasp: “Don’t worry, Wanda. I’m sure nothing’s gone wrong!”

Giant disembodied Vision head: “WRONG? ON THE CONTRARY, EVERYTHING’S GONE JUST FINE!”

Oh my god, he got Oz’d.

Imagine coming home to that! You go on an errand with a friend to take your mind off your coma robot husband and you come back and he’s a giant holographic head!

The three Avengers rush inside and find a more reasonably sized Vision hologram and Starfox protesting that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Yeah, I suspected.

But Vision is thrilled with this turn of events!

Vision: “Evidently, the internal dysfunction in my body caused a data feedback-loop which overloaded my brain with ISAAC’s energy-information matrix. Simply put -- I have become as one with ISAAC and our own computer systems! The ability to project this holographic construct is a fortuitous side-effect!”

Huuuuuuuuuh!

Vision merged with some computers. This is fine. Is this fine? Is Vision fine? Starfox wants to know and so do I.

Vision: “ALL RIGHT?!? I’ve never been able to think more clearly. Even with my body temporarily out of order, I can be of great help to the Avengers! I can out-think, out-deduce any computer system in the world! All the information in our files is mine -- instantly! For instance -- I see there’s some unfinished business pending! Two opponents escaped us recently! Those two must be found!”

Well, Monica will be happy with that at least.

Geez, Vision is kind of... manic? Maybe its just the contrast to how dour he tend to be. But he definitely seems keyed up. Like he’s running high on having all these computers running through his brain.

Is this robot drugs?

Wait, no, vibranium is robot drugs. Is this other robot drugs? Connect to a super-computer and scream I’M THINKING SO FAST! ?

MEANWHILE, those very two miscreants!

In a hideout in the Bronx, Blackout is ranting paranoid about how they’re out to get him and are going to merge him with the light spectrum and destroy his humanity. Which is fairly unique paranoid ranting.

Of course, while he’s focused on glaring out the window, he’s not paying attention to Moonstone who prepares a drugged cup of coffee for him.

Blackout: “You’re the only one, Moonstone... the only one who hasn’t betrayed me!”

Moonstone: “That’s right! You can trust me! Now, drink it all down!”

Womp womp.

The drug makes Blackout trance out and Moonstone uses this to start interrogating him about his origin. And... maybe trying to help him? She did start off as a therapist. And even as a villain, she sometimes does therapy.

For some damn reason, Hank “Good Ideas” Pym got her to look over Avengers Academy kids down the line and offer her thoughts on them.

Anyway. Moonstone asks how he got this way:

Blackout: “Well... I ‘spose it all started when Dr. Croit set me up so I’d have to be his guinea pig. He... charged up my body with the power of a black star! That’s why I... *yawn* ... had to punish him!”

Moonstone: “Shh! I want you to listen closely... there are no black-star energies... There’s no conspiracy against you! Let your mind drift back! I want you to tell me what really happened!”

So what really happened is here’s how a Mark Daniels became a man with a lightning bolt mask. He was a lab assistant to Dr. Croit.

Blackout: “He always wanted to be everyone’s big daddy!”

Um. Okayyy?

Anyway, Mark Daniels was helping Croit build an experimental device for tapping energy from other dimensions. And, at least according to Blackout, Dr. Croit liked Mark Daniels because he was a dummy who didn’t understand the experiment at all.

Then one day, while he longingly caressed it, the device blew up in Mark Daniels’ face, somehow making his body a control surface for tapping into another universe’s “dark force.”

Dr. Croit wanted to cure Mark Daniels who took exception to the idea of having his newfound power taken away. So he killed Dr. Croit and the other assistants.

But the power was running out of control (shouldn’t have killed the doctor, ya dingus) and before Blackout could use the stabilizer to save himself, he got stuck... somewhere. Its a bit fuzzy to him until he popped out in Project Pegasus.

Moonstone believes that his mind couldn’t cope with what happened to him so he made up the black star nonsense to be An Explanation.

Moonstone: Imagine... all of that power at the command of a raving paranoid! Yes, but he’s a paranoid who trusts me! Now that I have a handle on his power, I should be able to manipulate him into doing just about anything I wish! Why, with the dimensional-warping potential of a power like his, we could be unstoppable!

“Blackout, we have a very bright future ahead of us!”

And then Vision pops in from nowhere and gives Moonstone a startle.

She fires some of her hand pew pew at him but he’s a hologram and just sasses back.

Moonstone runs to wake up Blackout while Vision can’t help but show off how smart he is now that his computer brain is overclocked.

Vision: “It was, of course, clever of you to seek refuge in a hideaway of your former ally, Egghead! Unfortunately, with all the cross-referenced data instantly at my disposal, tracing you here was child’s play!”

Blackout wakes up and Moonstone basically points at Vision and tells him ‘get ‘im!’ and Blackout gets ‘im.

He uses the same imprisoning black sphere move on Vision as he did on Captain Marvel.

And it probably would have worked. If Vision was really here. He’s just a hologram. And, sure, the light of the hologram would probably be trapped in the sphere too. It trapped Captain Marvel when she was light. But Vision is being projected from elsewhere so he can just turn the projection off and then turn it on slightly to the left.

Vision: “I’m sorry, but that won’t work either! You see -- I’m not really here at all! But my friends are!”

Oh, Vision, you sassmaster.

Moonstone’s ‘knows when to fold them’ kind of lapsed when she was attacking Vision instead of remembering ‘hey doesn’t that guy hang with the Avengers?’ but a whole bunch of Avengers busting in reminds her.

She blasts the floor beneath her and Blackout to try to escape and has Blackout seal the hole behind them to buy time.

But Scarlet Witch is still a great counter to... maybe anyone? But especially Blackout.

She waves her hands at the black barrier and it turns into goo and drips all over Blackout and Moonstone, ensnaring them before they can even try to run.

The Avengers storm after the two villains.

Trapped, Moonstone tells Blackout its up to him to stop the Avengers!

Moonstone: “Concentrate on your power! It’s greater than you realize! If you try, you can control it completely... make it do anything! Concentrate... make this 'dark force’ release us! Yes... that’s it! You’re doing it! But you can do more than just reform the darkness into a protective sheath! You can turn it back on the Avengers... you can make them merge with the darkness! And then we can get out of here!”

Vision warns the Avengers that the dark-force is a manifestation of another universe but She-Hulk is skeptical so goes to grab Blackout out of the black goo but her arm goes right through him.

And not in the gory way that you’d see these days.

Blackout and Moonstone are pretty perplexed too.

Apparently, he done goofed and merged him and Moonstone with the darkness and the two get sucked into a singularity and disappear.

Vision: “This may be a first... Our enemies have actually imprisoned themselves!”

Geez, Vision, these assholes might be dead.

-google- Huh. Nope. They’ll be back to menace.... Dazzler? Huh. It be like that sometimes.

Sidenote: I do like that Captain Monica Marvel, as the newest to this superhero life, is the one that most visibly shows shock and consternation at two villains being sucked into an unknown fate.

It’s a nice touch.

Even though the villains maybe got away? Or got sent to the next dimension? She-Hulk congratulates Vision on finding them. And then notes, seconded by Wanda, that Vision is becoming more of a vision.

Scarlet Witch: “Darling? Your holographic projection is starting to fade!”

Vision: “So it is! I seem to be having some difficulty maintaining the transmission over the distance! Perhaps I’ve overextended myself a bit.”

He decides to switch off the projection to run a systems check.

Later, back at the mansion, the Giant Floating Head of Vision reassures everyone.

Vision: “I was just explaining to Captain Marvel that there’s nothing to worry about! As I’d already guessed, the strain of the long-distance transmission was a bit taxing. A few days of rest, and I’ll be able to transmit myself almost anywhere. Of course, by then, I hope to be physically mobile, as well.”

Scarlet Witch: “Vision, you must be more careful! It’s not safe for you to consider using this power again... not until you’re fully healed!”

Vision: “You mean ‘repaired,’ Wanda. But, yes, a certain amount of caution is required. I must adjust to this extra power in stages. Once I’ve mastered it, I’ll never be so helpless again. I’ll be able to do anything... anything!”

Well.

That’s a massive red flag.

Being locked in a tube has not done wonders for Vision’s emotional state that he always pretends he doesn’t have.

(Side note again: I like that Wasp’s costume has an open back, for her wings. It’s another nice touch.)

Starfox asks if Vision has ever had ego problems but Wasp says he’s never had a swelled head like this.

Nah, not exactly. But can you imagine!

But yeah, no, she says he’s never showed ego like this before.

Its actually such a massive red flag that everyone present seems to pick up on it.

But there’s no time to address that because they get an emergency call from Tigra.

Ah, Tigra! You were fun the short amount of time you were here. What wacky hijinxes do you have going on now?

Tigra: “I’m at St. Anthony’s Hospital in San Francisco, Jan. No, I’m fine -- but a friend of mine is literally at death’s door. She may not make it if we don’t get some help fast... and I mean big help! It’s hard to explain over the phone, but... do you believe in ghosts?”

!!!!

Why, Tigra! I didn’t know you and Spider-Woman were friends!

So next time.... uh. We won’t be addressing this right away. The next Avengers’ issue is an infamous offering from Assistant Editor’s Month and before we can even get to that, we need to look into what Hawkeye has been up to because it’s kinda relevant. Or will be relevant soon. When Marvel decides to give this liveblog a headache by splitting the party.

Oh yes, West Coast Avengers looms in the near future. As does Secret Wars. As does David Letterman!

Good grief!

Follow @essential-avengers because I’m going to try to cover all these things. That’s a good reason to follow, probably. Also, like and reblog if you like to reblog.

#avengers #Moonstone #Blackout #the Vision #Scarlet Witch #She Hulk #Starfox #the Wasp #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Essential Avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #Starfox has a big influence for a guy who is so Starfox #Vision the Great and Powerful #the continuing mishaps of Apartment Quest '83 #Moonstone commits an error

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all1e23 · 5 years ago

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Aeipathy

Pairings: Hades!Bucky x Persephone!Reader

Summary: You wandered into the forest on your own and met a handsome stranger.

Warnings: Um, none for this chapter I don’t think? General series warnings: angst, death, bloodshed. Ya know, fun stuff. Bucky is still sappy. It is what it is.

A/N: This is my entry for @itsbuckysworld Summer Writing Challenge. My prompt was Enchanted Forest AU. This was going to be a series but it will not be continued. It’s my own take/spin or whatever on Hades and Persephone and I am making shit up as go because I’m the writer and I can. 😉 Send me love, write me a song or come scream at me if you like it. Pic Credit [x]

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

“Y/n!” Steve hissed through his panting. He was running as fast as his small legs could take him, but you were still quicker. “We can’t go into the Enchanted Forest. It’s forbidden! Everyone knows that."

"When have you ever cared about the rules?” You asked and slowed your pace to allow Steve the chance to catch up; his breathing was labored but nothing you needed to worry about, yet anyway. You wiggled your toes in tall strands of grass, you’ve always liked the way the soft grass felt against your bare feet. The gentle blades turned sharp the closer you got to the edge of the treeline, the shadows that lurked within enticing you as they always did. For as long as you could remember you’ve been told to fear the darkness before you, but now that you were standing on the edge of it you couldn't see why.

It was beautiful; even the shadows.

Steve rolled his eyes, stopping a few steps behind you to catch his breath. This was becoming your new normal. You had an obsession with finding out what was beyond those trees, and Steve had a feeling it was going to get you both in trouble. “That’s not the point. There’s a reason it’s forbidden. No one knows what lives in there. It’s been centuries since anyone has gone inside.”

You turned back to look at your best friend with a mischievous gleam in your eye. "Doesn’t that make you a little curious to see what lives in there?”

“Not even a little,” Steve answered you, dryly and slightly annoyed. “Come on. We need to get back. Your mother would have a fit if she knew we were out like this.”

You sighed but linked arms with Steve and allowed him to direct you back towards the castle. You smiled, amused as you listened to Steve, complain about the grief you were going to get from Sam. It was not the first time you ditched your personal guard and would not be the last. Before your mother agreed to let, Steve stay in the castle -- after you agreed to her terms, of course. Steve had to be by your side for your good, and you had to let a new girl, Wanda, be your lady in waiting -- before that happened, you often snuck out of the castle and out from under Sam’s nose so you could spend time with Steve.

He should be used to it by now, but by the look on his face as he waited outside the gate for your return, he was not used to it.

Sam raised his brow and pursed his lips the second he laid eyes on you, disappointment was oozing off him, and you couldn't help but smile. “I thought we had moved passed the sneaking out, my lady?”

“You don’t like to lie, Sam. I was saving you from having to lie for me.”

You continued right on by Sam, spotting the smile he wanted to hide from you. As much as he adored your adventurous spirit, it wasn’t safe for someone of your status to be out by herself. You weren’t royalty, but you weren’t nobodies either. Your family had enemies as did all prominent families you supposed.

“You don’t have to follow so closely, Sam. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what you said this morning.”

Steve snorted from his place next to you, and you shot him a playful glare. “You know what they say, Y/n. Fool a man once…”

“Hush, Steve.” You muttered under your breath as you approached your panicked mother.

“No.” Your mother said in a harsh whisper. “It’s best if that stays between us. You know what Heimdall said about her and that... thing. This stays here--” Her guard - Brock Rumlow, a terrible man, one that never failed to make you feel uneasy, cleared his throat and nodded behind her where you were approaching rather quickly, avoiding the man’s glare as you did.

Sam wasn’t fond of him either from what you gathered over the years. He stood a little closer to you when Rumlow was around, but when you asked about it in private, he would never give his reasons, and you suspected he had plenty.

“Where have you been?!” Your mother's shout filled the bustling hallway startling nearly everyone walking nearby, enough to draw their attention.

“I was out picking flowers with Steve.” You pulled a small bundle of wildflowers from behind your back for proof, and Steve frowned. You saw the question in his eyes without him having to ask, when did you pick those? A small shrug of your shoulder had Steve narrowing his eyes. Your mother, on the other hand, simply nodded -- content with your answer. “Fine, but next time Samuel is to stay by your side and for the love of the Gods, change out of that dress before dinner. You have grass stain all over it.”

You glanced down at the blush-colored fabric and grimaced at the dark green and brown marks covering it. Another dress ruined then. Perhaps you should start wearing black, no need to worry about grass stains when everything you own is black. You opened your mouth to give another feeble excuse behind the stains, but she pointed to your bare feet covered in mud, and your mouth snapped shut.

“Honestly, Y/n. You’re not a teenager. You can’t expect to win over suitors running around with bare feet.”

“I don’t want to win--” Your mother lifted her hands, silencing the same argument you’ve had for months now, and ushered you towards your chambers.

Steve was quiet as he walked a few steps behind you like he was supposed to when you were in public. He waited until the hallway was empty and your room was within sight before he jogged up to your side and asked in a whisper, careful for any spying ears. “Where did those flowers come from? You didn’t have them when we walked through the gates.”

You grinned and linked your arms with the smaller man before placing a small sprig of lavender behind his ear. Your grin widened watching the blush on his cheek spread down his neck, turning his ears bright red.

“We are not supposed to talk about it, Stevie. It’s a secret.”

--------

The sun rose too early for most. Not for you. It was your favorite time of the day. Early morning, just before the sun had a chance to warm the air and spread its light over the olive-colored bushes that rest along the castle walls. It was rare that people were up and moving about the halls, so it gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak out, no Sam and no Steve to watch over you.

You loved them both dearly, but sometimes it was nice to have a few moments alone to be yourself, and it happened to be the perfect time to make your way into the Enchanted Forest. What could be so scary about a few flowers hidden amongst the trees?

That was the very question you asked yourself as you stood at the entrance once more -- alone this time, no one to tell you to go back or run and find Sam after you entered, who drag you back to the ‘safety’ of your home. Maybe you spent too much listening to whispers, there was a voice in your head telling you to go back, but the pull to go in was stronger. It felt as if there was a string wrapped around you and someone was pulling, pulling you into the dark. You pushed your fear aside and ventured into the blackness, passed the trees and thorny vines covering the only entrance for hundreds of miles and the sight before you sucked the air right out of your lungs.

It was beautiful.

Dreary, yes. The trees were nearly on top of each other, and they were so tall you could have sworn, now that you were standing under them, the tops had to touch the clouds. There were vines of some kind tangled from branch to branch connecting every tree you could see for miles. It was strange you couldn’t place the flowers that littered the ground under you. You knew every flower in existence but these, sweet-smelling purple buds had you falling in love with each petal you came across, and you didn’t even know its name.

You were so taken with the beauty surrounding you that you had not realized you wandered so deep the entrance was merely a speck behind you. You should turn back, stay near the edge of the forest but… were those steps? Yes, those were stone steps in the middle of what you knew was the trunk of a dying tree. You could feel it from where you stood, but your curiosity was outweighing the ache. A hundred questions were swimming in your head; how could the steps lead down to anything? And who put them there? Where they did lead to? What was… under all of this?

A preliminary step towards them had your heart racing, and the pull you had felt at the treeline was stronger than ever before. Before your feet could touch the stone, a sparkle caught your attention. You looked up to see what it was, and the darkness was glittering with hundreds of bright blue lights floating in the air.

You grinned and whispered into the quiet, “Fireflies…”

You leaned back against the closet tree, and a soft hum left your lips as you watched the light show above you before it disappeared with the rising sun.

"Do you hear that?"

It sounded like humming -- the most beautiful humming to ever grace his ears. He didn’t know the song, but the siren that was singing it certainly had his attention. That was a first. Well, the first in a very long while.

"No, my king." The redhead didn’t even glance up. She had no interest in whatever James was talking about, but she could sense he had something on his mind. “I’ve told you over and over I can’t hear anything that happens up there unless I want to and right now, I do not. I’m assuming you’re going up to investigate whatever it is?”

He didn’t answer her question, only listened to the sugary melody drifting down. He liked the way there was no pause, the tune carried on as if she was unafraid of who would hear her. It was fascinating. No one stepped foot into the forest, let alone wandered this far into the middle near his home.

Perhaps he had been gone for too long if people are no longer scared of what lies within. It might be time to change that.

He pulled his legs off the arm of his chair, and gracefully rose to his feet, gently tapping the nose of the orange cat that laid next to him. “No, you stay, Goose. No eyes to scratch out.”

The melody in his head was getting louder, and by the smirk on his face he had made up his mind, he was heading towards the surface. Natasha watched until he faded from her sight, but that didn’t ease the worry on her face. She leaned back against the chair she was resting in and took a deep breath, letting her bright green eyes fade to a foggy white. If he was going to the surface, she was going to keep a close watch over him.

It didn’t take him long to find the source of the humming. You were standing right on his doorstep, disturbing his rest and his underlings. Had no one taught you manners? Taught you of him? He watched as you leaned over an old tree trunk that was full of water, you let your fingers skim delicately over the top of the water. Manners or not, he was memorized by you. Your hand froze over the water, and you turned to face the trees he was watching you.

“Hello?”

He smirked but not unkindly; he liked the strength in your voice and the look of awe in your eyes as you took in your surroundings. Your eyes landed on the shadow he was hiding in as if you knew he was there and he watched as you took careful steps towards him -- fearful of scaring whoever or whatever was lurking nearby.

“Is someone there? You can come out. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He chuckled to himself, amused by your gentle words as if you could hurt him, even if you came with the intention to, you wouldn’t succeed. Your fingers were inches from finding him, and he decided to make himself known for if you inched any closer your hands would be pressed against his chest.

He wondered how long it would be until you were frightened.

"What's your name, sweet thing?" You startled at how close the voice was to you, and you quickly pulled your hand back from the shadow. Whoever it was, they didn’t sound scared of you.

"Y/n. What's yours?"

‘That is not her given name, but she’s unaware.’

The man grinned, and you swore something red glimmered in his eyes, but he spoke the red faded away to nothing, and you were back to staring at a shadow. "I'm afraid my real name would scare you. Didn't you hear about the dangers lurking within the shadows of this forest?"

There were dangers everywhere. What made this forest anymore threatening than the castle you grew up in? There were plenty of threats hiding behind those stone walls. At least out here, none were masking themselves behind pretty clothes and well-practiced smiles.

"What makes you so dangerous?"

The man laughed and slowly stepped out from behind the shadow of the century-old oak. He didn’t look frightening now that he was in the light. He was dressed in all black, dark brown hair tucked behind his ears and bright blue eyes that crinkled when he laughed at you. Only... his left hand, it looked black -- a glove perhaps.

"You don't think I'm dangerous?" He asked, amused, and humoring you no doubt.

Distracting? Yes. Dangerous? No, you would bet your life on it.

"You don't look like it to me."

He grinned.

"Even roses have thorns, sweet thing."

You stood quietly, your fingers toying with the sheer black fabric of your gown as you watched him. You’ve never seen him before; you would have remembered him if you had. So where had he come from? He met your eyes and quickly averted his gaze; he did not like the way he reacted to feeling your eyes on him. His heart thumped against his chest for the first time in centuries, and it made his skin crawl.

Natasha’s voice in his head rang loudly in his head once more, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. ‘You’re far too interested in her. Let her go and back home where you belong.’

"I know all about roses and their thorns.” You finally told him, still watching him curiously. “They don't scare me. Thorns can be just as pretty as the petals or haven’t you heard? There’s a bit of beauty in roughness.”

Bucky smirked, and this time she saw the red in his eyes thanks to the sun catching the burning flecks through the holes in the tree canopy. As much as you wanted to stay, you needed to go. The height of the sun meant you had stayed longer than you intended. Steve probably sent himself into an asthma attack looking for you.

"I overstayed my welcome. My friend will be looking for me. I should find him before he panics."

‘Let. Her. Go.’

Bucky snapped the fingers of his left hand, severing his connection to Natasha. He would discuss this with her later. He can only tolerate the Fate interfering in his affairs for so long. She was lucky he entertained it at all. Friend or not, his patience for her games only lasted so long.

"Will you -- will you come back?" He grimaced at the weak, stutter in his voice. He did, however, like the way it made you smile.

"Would you like me to?"

"I'd like you never to leave." He answered, honestly.

You’ve only talked for a few seconds, and he was wondering when you would return? And where would you stay if you decided to? Sleep in the trees it would seem. It was an odd thing to say to someone you just met. Yes, you’ve met with lords and princes and soldiers, and yes, many were very forward with what they wanted from you, but not one sounded like that. None were a desperate plea to be in your company, and it made your insides warm.

“I can come back tomorrow. At the same time. I only have a few minutes before they realize I’m missing, but I… I can come back tomorrow.”

You pulled a deep red rose that appeared to be pulled out of thin air and held it out for him to take. He reached out with his right hand, leaving the left tucked safely into his side. Showing you his left arm now would only ensure you never came back and that would be a terrible, terrible waste.

“Be careful of the thorns. They pinch.”

He smiled at your worry and nodded towards the edge of the forest. “You better run along. I believe your.. friend is looking for you.”

You couldn’t hear any shouts or see much of anything thanks to how deeply you wandered, but you knew the stranger was right. Steve would have come here once he saw you were nowhere to be found in the castle. You started towards home with tentative steps because truthfully you did not want to go. You turned to peek back at the distractingly handsome man one more time, but he was already gone, and it felt like a hollow pit in your chest.

You hoped you wouldn’t have to sit with it until sunrise tomorrow.

The rose in his hand began to turn black as it slowly burned from the inside out, stemming from where his fingers were gripping it firmly. He watched as the flame delicately worked it’s way up the steam and turned the petals black, and it hardened to a dark stone. A thorn that had yet to turn stuck into his thumb, letting a bit of blood trickle down. He peeled his thumb away and gently sucked the blood from his thumb as he held up the rose to examine it.

He knew every inch of the forest, and this particular rose was not a resident. You just happened to have one at your fingertips.

Intriguing, but everything about you was very intriguing.

“What did you mean it is not her given name?” He asked into the empty surrounding him. A stretch of silence meant Natasha was still mad at him. She would answer him when her anger settled. He waited, staring at the stone flower in his hand as he progressed down the stairs, brick crumbling under the pressure of his feet. The light from above was stamped out by the darkness he carried with him and the screams of those trapped within his walls, and still, the flower in his hand consumed all of his thoughts.

‘Persephone. Her name is Persephone.’

#hades!bucky #hades!bucky x perdephone!reader #ibworldsummer19 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #alternate universe #Enchanted Forest AU #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

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writingwithbella · 4 years ago

Text

Old Scars/Future Hearts: Salty Like A Summer’s Day

series summary; one summer. one tour. six people. touring with your older brother and the band he manages is supposed to be fun. you get to be with all of your favorite people, go to different cities, and jam out to shows every night. so why is pope so set on making your experience a living hell?

pope heyward x routledge!reader

2.4k words (👁👄👁we really went off with this first chapter ngl)

a/n: yay! first chapter in @bricksatanakinswindow and I’s new fic! We are both very excited to share this with you and would love to hear what you have to say on the first chapter! this fic is definitely going to be a wild ride, but one we hope you enjoy as much as we do!

JJ Maybank sees you first.

He’s booking it across the parking lot, his hat close to flying off his head and his backpack slapping violently against his back as soon as you step out of your car. You’re too focused on tugging your charger from the port to realize he’s barreling towards you at full speed. When you finally look up, you have less than ten seconds to brace yourself before JJ is slamming into you, squashing you between him and the car.

“y/n!” he shouts, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “JB said you were coming but I said I wouldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it. You know how flaky you can be, right?”

You roll your eyes and shove JJ off of you, a grin making its way onto your face. “Fuck off, Maybank. I always keep my promises.”

Before he can answer you, another voice sounds from the other end of the parking lot in the same tone of elation as JJ. “Thank god!”

Kie’s making her way towards the two of you, a radiant smile on her face. She looks as beautiful as ever, her hair falling behind her shoulders in curls. Her skin is glowing, and her eyes are bright. You move from JJ’s grip in favor of pulling Kie into a bone-crushing hug, a small giggle escaping your lips when she gasps.

“If I had to suffer through this tour without you or Sarah, I’d go insane,” she says, moving to drink you in. “You look good, y/n. When did you start wearing so much black?”

You laugh a little, shaking your head at her. The last time Kie had seen you, you were going through your pink phase. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, really, except for the fact that it wasn’t your style. You had experimented different styles over the past few years, deciding that a mixture of pretty much everything suit you. “Just recently. I decided it’s the right vibe for now.”

“Well, I, for one, don’t care about clothes. Let’s go back to the bus,” JJ says, grabbing two of your bags. “John B. says he misses you. Surprising, right?”

“Shut up, JJ!” you and Kie say at the same time, falling into a fit of giggles as he rolls his eyes at you.

Kie links her arm with yours, guiding you towards the tour bus that would house you for the next four months. You had been excited when John B. had called and asked you to help him manage to band on tour. Your summer was originally going to be spent in your hometown, pretending your brother wasn’t traveling the country while you worked a minimum wage job.

But this option was much, much better.

You see John B. and Sarah before they see you. You can tell right away that your brother is smitten with Kie’s best friend. His attention is fully on her, a smile brighter than the sun painted on his face. You knew your brother like the back of your hand, having watched him fall in love with girls time and time again.

“Ah, so JB is already making moves?” you ask teasingly, resting your hands on your hips.

“Sarah Cameron does have that effect on people,” Kie comments.

You snicker, shaking your head at your brother. He is a hopeless romantic through and through. You could only hope Sarah possessed some of those traits.

“I was hoping JB was lying when he said you were coming along for the ride.”

Pope’s voice turns your blood into ice. He was the last person you wanted to see – the person you were dreading seeing. Pope wasn’t nice to you. There was no way around it. For some god-awful reason, Pope Heyward fucking hated you. And because you weren’t one to back down, you reciprocated those harsh feelings.

It was exhausting being around him, always being so angry and rude. But you weren’t going to let him push you around.

You turn on your heel, catching Kie’s eye. She sends you a pleading look, one begging you to be nice. You can hear her voice in your head; C’mon, y/n, it’s the start of the tour. Let’s not do this right away.

“I promised,” you say stiffly, your eyes raking over him lazily. You ignore the tug at your heart when you see him. He always looks attractive, but today especially, he seems to have turned up the heat. He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a Nirvana tank top, and his hat backwards. He looks like a tall glass of water, begging to be drank on a day as hot as this one.

But then he opens his mouth.

“We all know how hard it is to keep your promises,” Pope says dismissively. “Kie, did you see where JB left the keys? I want to get the AC going so we don’t all heat case.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” She replies offhandedly, gesturing towards the love-stricken boy. Pope rolls his eyes, but not frustratedly like he had with you. Rather, he seems amused, humored by the older boy’s antics. You scoff, but rather than begin the argument again, you turn to face Kie and JJ who are trying to ignore the obvious tension in the air.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” JJ mocks, to which you and Kie laugh raucously, catching John B’s attention and breaking him out of his Sarah-Cameron-centered trance.

“Alright, alright, calm down kids. Let’s get on the bus, I feel like I’m dying.” He pulls the keys out of one of the pockets of his cargo shorts and begins walking towards the bus. The rest of them follow after, lugging their suitcases and duffle bags behind them as if they had been walking for miles. Under his breath, Pope mutters.

“That’s such a great idea, John B. I wonder who literally said that not ten seconds before?” You can’t help the snicker that you make at his words. He looks over at you, but before he can make whatever snarky comment had come to his mind, John B interrupts, opening the door to the bus and gesturing to the ample space within.

Note your heavy sarcasm.

“Welcome to your humble abode for the next four months. There’s a living room, a kitchenette, and in the far back, behind the curtain, the bunk space. Bunks are first come, first serve, so if you want a top bunk, I suggest you claim it now.” His words spark a race within the group and the six of you push and shove each other out of the way to claim your ideal bunk.

You are reaching to seize the top bunk for yourself when a dark arm moves past you and places an olive green duffle bag on the undressed mattress. You turn to look at the owner of said arm and, unsurprisingly, find it attached to Pope, who is smiling innocently.

“That’s my bed.” He laughs slightly, to which you cross your arms and stare him down with your most intimidating look. He laughs harder.

“Really? I didn’t see any stuff on it saying that it was yours. No sign, no luggage. In fact, the only stuff on there is mine, so I think this is my bed. Sorry.” You can tell by the smile on his face that he is in no way sorry. But, it doesn’t matter. JJ and Kie are giving you both wary looks as if waiting for a fight to break out and this is going to be a four-month long tour. You will have plenty of time to annoy and argue with each other later.

For now, for them, you’ll just grit your teeth and bear it.

“Fine. I’ll just take this one. But, if I hear a single snore from you, I won’t hesitate to smother you with a pillow.” You place your stuff on the next bunk down, ignoring Pope’s looming presence behind you.

“Fine, but one peep from you and I won’t hesitate to push you onto the floor.” You scoff.

“Fine.”

It’s hours later that you find yourself alone with Kie, JJ and Pope having left to get either groceries or something they’d forgotten to pack, while John B is still attempting to woo Sarah by taking her to some park nearby. A sort-of goodbye to the Outer Banks before they depart for their four-month venture.

“It’s so weird,” Kie mutters, sipping on a can of beer she’d pulled from the minifridge. The boys may not know how to pack the basics like a toothbrush or enough socks, but they’d remembered to stock every cool place in the vehicle with alcohols of all types from cheap beers to hard liquors.

“What’s weird?” You reply, sipping on a cold beer of your own and staring out the tinted windows into the nothingness of the parking lot beyond. There really isn’t much to do on the bus when it’s just the two of you, resigning you to talking or staring—you at the outer world and Kie at her phone.

“I feel like, I don’t know, we should all be at a dinner, celebrating us leaving for tour. Instead, we’re just sitting here, doing nothing, while everyone else does whatever. Just feels like a shitty start to tour.” You shrug, looking away from the window, and turn to face her, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in the entire time she talked.

“Well, there’s still time for us to do all that. Maybe not a celebratory dinner, but we leave at 11 o’clock tomorrow. We could have a nice breakfast send-off.” She scoffs lightly, jokingly, and finally looks up from the screen to meet your eyes.

“Very funny. I’m just saying, I thought tonight would be going differently, that’s all. I thought maybe we would all be sitting around a table and drinking and laughing and talking about all the things we want to do on tour. I thought we’d be trying to keep you and Pope from killing each other and be separating John B and Sarah so they didn’t try to fuck right there in front of us all. Instead we’re all separated and we’re drinking and I don’t know. I just thought things would be different.” You could definitely see where she was coming from. This isn’t how you thought tour would be starting off either, though you couldn’t say you were surprised. The group had never been very well-organized, so the idea that they are all on different pages doesn’t surprise you.

“Well, there’s still enough time left in the day for me and Pope to start arguing again, so don’t discard that idea yet. But seriously, if you want to have a celebratory send-off, I can goad my brother into a breakfast thing tomorrow. I’m sure they’d all love to eat before the four-hour drive to Raleigh.” Kie shakes her head amusedly, looking down at the can in her hand.

“Nah, I don’t want to force the boys to do anything they don’t want. If they want to start on a low note, that’s on them. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of group meals on the road, it’s kind of inevitable. Speaking of low notes, what the fuck is up with you and Pope?” You suspect that this was the motive behind the entire conversation—to get you to talk about Pope, but you can’t find it within yourself to be surprised.

The tension between you and Pope has always been a point of contention within the group. No one within the group seems to know how it started, not even you. All you can remember is Pope meeting you and immediately treating you with hostility, which you returned because you didn’t know what else to do. Now, because you both possess deep friendships with every other member of the group, you are forced to tolerate each other's unbearable existences. But your friendships with the others doesn’t mean you won’t still make comments and pick fights with each other every chance you get.

“Nothing new. He’s still an asshole and I still don’t know why. But I’m trying to be nice, for you and JJ. He just makes it so difficult. He keeps making little digs at me and stealing my bunk? He just keeps acting like a child! I don’t get it, what did I ever do to him?” Kie shrugs, but before she can reply, the door opens and the topic of your conversation enters with JJ, carrying multiple bags. At the sight of you, Pope’s expression sours.

“Hey, so we got some basic needs for the road so we aren’t just eating junk all the time.” JJ tosses a bag to you, which you examine with an amused expression.

“This is exclusively gas station junk food. There’s not a single healthy item in here.” JJ laughs, swiping the bag from your lap as he and Pope move past you and Kie to the kitchenette. Pope refuses to look at you.

“Okay and? Fresh fruits would rot so fast, it doesn’t make sense to have them. At least these things will last.” JJ says, pointing at you.

“Yeah, but my waistline won’t. We have to eat healthier, even if it means buying fruits and veggies and eating them within the day,” Kie speaks. Pope rolls his eyes, but jokingly, like he’s amused by what she said. You’re sure that if you had said the same thing that he would be going off on you or making comments. It’s frustrating to you that he held you to a different standard than his other friends.

“I’m going to bed, guys, you all have fun,” you mutter, chucking your empty beer can into the trash can in the kitchenette and maneuvering past the confused boys. You just don’t have it in you to deal with Pope at the moment and it makes more sense for you to just remove yourself from the situation entirely rather than listen to Pope make snide remarks towards you all night.

You dress quickly for bed and ensure the curtain is closed before you slide into your bunk, covering yourself with the blanket you had packed, not realizing the beds wouldn’t come with any sheets. You’d have to buy something soon if you were going to survive the next four months.

As you lay still in the bunk, eyes open despite your pleas for sleep to come quickly and easily, you hear Pope’s voice cut through the silence of the bus despite its hushed tones.

“What’s her problem?” It’s said jokingly, a mockery at your expense, but the reply you issue within the depths of your mind is serious: you are.

taglist; @sarahcxmeron @northcarolinanative

#pope heyward x y/n #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fic #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward fanfiction #enemies to lovers #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank #pope heyward #outer banks fanfiction #john b routledge #outer banks x reader

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, so you reblogged my post about bnha fic recs and I also looked through the ones you linked and I LOVED THEM. If its alright to ask, would you happen to have more Protective Aizawa or possibly Dadmic or Protective Present Mic? Also Protective Midnight or Momnight? Only if you have! Thanks! -bnhastanning

I somehow stupidly lost my reply to this ask, not once, but TWICE. at the end, when i was almost done. im so sorry but this will be the crappiest version yet... (also! hello, fellow batfam fan... *spiderman pointing meme*)

I read a lot of fic and i loooooove sharing them with people, so thanks for giving me an excuse to do this!! :D

lots of fics, so im putting them under the read more! One of these days I’ll get around to making more organized fic rec posts...

Dadmic: only a couple, and tbh i think they have more dadzawa in them?? Secondary Colors by NaoNazo

"You got pushed down the stairs... and you're apologizing for it," he stated blandly. "That seems counterintuitive." "Um... sorry?" Izuku whispered. He was starting to shake a little, adrenaline flooding his veins and leaving him cold. He had no idea what Purple was going for with his blunt statements and the hand reaching toward his shoulder as if to steady him, but apologizing was generally safe. "You don't have to apologize, dude. I don't know your name, but I doubt it's actually Deku." "Um. Midoriya." Izuku peered sideways at Purple as they rounded the corner. "Izuku Midoriya. Deku is just, um, just what my... friends call me." He winced. "Sounds real friendly."

and Cat Days by Griffinrose

Izuku has a shapeshifting quirk. He's not the best at controlling it, especially under stress. So when tragedy strikes and he gets lost in the city, he's stuck as a cat. At least he found a nice underground hero to take him in?

Pied Piper by Blackholeca has some really great concerned Dadmic in recent chapters!!

If they wouldn’t give him a chance then the solution seemed simple, he’d give himself one. He’d force the world to see him, force them to recognize his hard work. He wasn’t missing a quirk, it was simply that everyone else had been given an advantage. He wasn’t broken, or useless, or incapable, and he’d prove it by outrunning all of them, he who was quirkless, he who had started in last.

As for momnight, there are also only a couple, and im also not caught up with these either. i have a little bit more of an excuse with these, as Indefinite by OwlF45 is really REALLY long, as well as intense. Worth the read though! I just gotta catch up! So much mindblowing stuff in that, and the Momnight is really sweet.

It comes with the package deal of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Midoriya gets another chance at life, but he must throw it away when that dreaded day comes. After all, a life for nineteen is more than a fair trade.

Or: the world will rise or fall, and it depends on one boy protecting Class 1-A to prevent the inevitable.

The other Momnight one I have is A Single Reason by TheDeepSeaWitch. Also really good, but really intense and I’ve had to take a break because I was getting a bit depressed, whoops. But I liked it!

Training begins the next day, and doesn’t stop for any reason. They wait for heroes, then for police, then for anyone to save them, but nobody comes.

It’s only a month before Izuku forgets their names. It’s a year before he forgets his own.

It’s only a chance meeting with an impassioned soul eight long, painful years later that saves them.

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

They thought they were lost forever, that there was no future out there for them with their scars so visible and the blood on their hands still pungent and red. But if they have the strength to try, then perhaps, one day, they may yet find their forgiveness, and rediscover themselves along the way.

The Reforming Villains AU nobody asked for.

For Dadzawa:

Flare Signal by achievingelsium, of course! Annie writes some of my absolute fav dadzawa content, so definitely check it out!!

AU. Midoriya Izuku shouldn't be surprised he ended up like this: hiding the secret of One for All from his own father, the notorious villain Dragon. The path to being a hero is a hard one.

Or; Izuku is an aspiring hero forced to work for his father’s villain organization. Then he runs into All Might.

Izuku Ya’broker by Dreamillusions, is a fic i loved a LOT.

Perhaps you should actually listen to the news every once in a while, so you wouldn't end up in these kinds of situations. What kinds of situations? Glad you asked. Look at Izuku, for example. You would think Izuku would be at home after school, safe and sound from anyone attempting to, you know, kill him. But no, Izuku decided to roam around. Because of a bet. This is the kind of a situation you shouldn't end up in. Don't be Izuku.

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner, is rightfully popular! It has some horror/suspense themes though, so if thats not your style, try one of Blade’s other fics!! She’s a seriously good writer.

The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

A House Divided Against Itself by BeyondTheClouds777, another one of my fav fics by a great writer!

"Become a villain," they said.

“I’ll be a villain,” he said.

He lied. He’s only there so he can tear apart the League of Villains from the inside out.

The scars we carry by Banana_Ink is a great AU with plenty of Dadzawa

Aizawa rescued Izuku from the league of villains and takes care of the child for now. Izuku has two quirks in this AU, one natural - Forced Quirk Activation - and one that AFO 'gifted' him with - Self-Heal. He has a pretty big handprint-scar on his face and started as a problem child, scared and wary of people. But Aizawa managed to help him slowly heal.

This AU is just some silly little thing I came up in my freetime and like to add to it as I go, so I don't have a plan at all. Mostly I write for fun so I hope you might enjoy this as well :D

Ticked Off by Xenolis is a fic that I just want to rec all the time,,, for some reason...

~ ON HIATUS/OCCASIONAL UPDATES ~ Midoriya Izuku attracted trouble. It was just a fact of life – the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Izuku constantly found himself in an absurd number of deadly situations. He was okay with that. Mortal peril was an average Tuesday afternoon for a Pro Hero like him. Being kidnapped was practically a holiday. Saving civilians as a building collapsed around him was easier than facing his worried mum afterwards. He had dealt with All Might's disappointed dad stare and only cried for two hours afterwards. A serial killing villain with an unknown Quirk would be no problem! ..but even Izuku had to admit that being sent back in time to his first day at UA wasn't on the agenda. Still, there was no-one more spitefully determined than him – he was going to make the most of it. Yeah, good luck, heroes and villains alike! Deku was here to cause mischief and love his friends!

Toward A Bright Future by LazyRainDancer holds a special, soft place in my heart. I always want to go reread it after watching the show and I always want to rewatch the show after reading it. it never ends

You wake up at UA, the highest ranked hero school in the country, with no recollection of how you got there. Unfortunately, those aren't the only memories you're missing. Still, you can't let a little amnesia get in the way of you warning the school about the attack you know will happen during Class 1-A's field trip to the USJ. After you deliver your warning, you're beyond shocked when the principal offers you a position as a TA for Class 1-A. You accept the position in hopes that you'll be able to use your Quirk to help protect the students. It'll be far from easy, but you're determined to do whatever it takes to change the students' future for the better.

The rest don’t really have Dadzawa? But theyre really good so I had to rec them anyway

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh, good writer for multiple fandoms

“Yes,” All for One agreed. “This will be the final resting place of All Might.” “You,” Midoriya Izuku said and paused, thinking over the words. He sounded taken aback. “You want me to help fight All Might.” “Of course,” All for One nodded along. “I can offer you double of whatever my counterpart is paying you currently, along with anything your little heart could desire. Of course, you would get to help out drastically—" “Did you happen to check what world you were pulling me out of when you did this?” Midoriya Izuku interrupted and it was said in such an incredulous tone that had the situation not been as critical as it was, All Might would have laughed. Also known as: number one hero Deku has been through a lot of things, but being thrust into an alternate reality where he’s All for One’s Successor is a first. He has to navigate this world when his alternate self is a villain dead-set on killing him and all of this version of class 1-A. All the while, his friends search desperately for a way to get him back.

Office Space by Caelismylife quirkless izuku gets a job at UA analyzing quirks, HECK YES

It took a little time, but he eventually found himself with a job at UA. The revolving door of heroes was not in the contract.

To Repair with Gold by TitleUnwanted FEEEEELS

AU. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, biggest lie in the world. Tattoos, which appeared when quirks did, are when a person feels an impact on something they are told and it becomes inked on their body, the closer they show to your heart the deeper the impact it has on the person.

For Izuku this is a blessing and a curse.

An Accident at Workstudy by Galactic_Jax been enjoying this one!

Izuku is working hard to prove himself at his work study, but it's hard when Sir Nighteye has made it clear he's not wanted. But what happens when Izuku is caught in a villain attack on his way to the agency? Will a few revelations about his most recent intern's past be enough for Sir Nighteye to change his mind about All Might's successor?

Nice to Meet You? by Allwalkfree didn’t know i needed this until i read it

Kirishima introduces Bakugou to his favorite senpai. In which over several encounters Bakugou and Amajiki learn to become tentative friends.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7 dorm shenanigans AND feels

There’s a first time for everything. The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed. The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off. The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch. The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating. The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal. The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it. The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls. The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle. The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene. It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Hero Class Civil Warfare by Roguedruid extremely satisfying to read

Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.

A Fleeting Smile by AnonymousTwit good bakugou content

Or a collection of fifteen Bakusquad one shots where someone outside of the Bakusquad catches a rare glimpse of a friendlier side of Bakugou Katsuki, and one time that is specifically reserved for the four people that he hates the least.

Hope this gives you something to work with!!! I have more(and am always adding) in my bookmarks on AO3, but this should be a good start! Hopefully you’ll find at least one that you love! have a great day!!!! -Ani <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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the-mad-starker · 5 years ago

Text

Valentines Day Fic: Slow Hands

Written by @the-mad-starker and @still-lovelygarnet for @castronomicaaal in @starker-valentines! We hope you enjoy the fic and know that we're so grateful for your help and patience.

Mads: We teamed up thinking we can get this prompt out fast! Instead, we pulled a purely Mads and Garnet move and ended up doubling the word count. Woops! But it's worth it. We had a lot of fun writing this.

Garnet: As always, writing with Mads is too much fun to stop. This is a Valentine's gift for the amazing Castro, but it also was for me too, since writing it made me beyond happy. Happy Valentine's day ❤️

Notes: established relationship, first time, fluff, safe sex, Valentine's Date

WC: 11.290

(AO3 Link)

Summary:

Tony loved kissing Peter and the thought of doing more sent an almost terrifying thrill rushing through him. He would do everything in his power to make Peter feel as loved as Tony felt.

"It's a date then, sweetheart," Tony confirmed, "Dinner with the most handsome man in the world and then after… Whatever you want, baby. I'll make it happen just to see a smile on your face."

💗💗💗

Tony had an entire theater system on one of the floors in the tower. And yet, here he was in the privacy of his own penthouse, watching Wall-E on his big-screen TV.

The reason for this was the young man curled up in his arms. They had just finished a long day in the lab, several hours of shop talk, upgrades being planned then put into motion.

Put into words, six hours sounded way too long for a lab session but for Tony, the time had really flown.

He had never met anyone quite like Peter and yes, people could argue that they were very much alike. Both geniuses in their own right and both striving for the good of the world.

Well, Tony strived. He was pretty sure that Peter was just good incarnate but that was an argument for another day.

The point was, Peter was his reason for doing a lot of things. And if his boyfriend wanted to watch Wall-E just because Tony hadn't seen it before, then they'd watch Wall-E even if his arm was going slightly numb from Peter laying on it.

It was still a bit chilly during February so a nice, thick blanket kept the warmth trapped between them. Tony shifted a bit to get some of the blood circulating but then resettled his arm so it curled around Peter's waist. Problem solved.

"This is actually pretty… cute," Tony remarked. "You know, we can probably build our own version of Wall-E. Dumm-E and U would be ecstatic about having a little brother. And FRIDAY and Karen could be big sisters."

The young man next to him remained unresponsive for a short while. Big brown eyes were glued on the huge screen, yet looks were quite deceiving since his thoughts were focused elsewhere.

"Hm?" Peter's eyebrows climbed up a little as he finally came back to the present.

A smile spread across his soft lips upon realizing Tony's entertaining proposition. Even more than that, Peter was delighted that his boyfriend was enjoying the movie he had picked.

It was easy for him to draw out the parallels between Wall-E and himself and, of course, EVE and Tony.

The man was the definition of amazing, he was brighter than the sky's brightest star. A hero to all. To Peter. And way, way more than that.

"Glad you like it," His smile curved wider, perfectly white teeth flashing with his grin. "Getting all kinds of ideas, are you?" Peter's eagerness for Tony's creative projects was painfully obvious, always had been.

This time he was distracted, however.

Valentine's was only a few days away and they hadn't spoken a word about it. Maybe Tony didn't like that stuff. Maybe he was busy. But Peter, being the hopeless romantic that he was, was sweating bullets over it.

They had been on dates before, sure they had. But this date… this date would be different.

Nervously, he cleared his throat before attempting to go on.

"Uhm… What about EVE, though? Can we make her, too? I think Wall-E would be… lonely without her."

Instead of a facepalm, he let his eyes slip shut for a moment too long. Was he really trying to talk his way to a Valentine's date with Tony like this?

Real smooth, Peter. Real smooth.

"We could–" Again, he had to clear his throat since it was getting so dry from the nervousness. "We could… brainstorm about it. On… Friday?"

His eyes darted back to Tony.

His effort at being nonchalant and discreet only made the layers behind Peter's words exceedingly apparent.

Friday…

Tony hummed at the thought, mind already whirling with possible schematics and cozy little workshop dates. It wasn't unusual at all for the pair to have multiple lab days. Maybe they wouldn't go so hard at it on Friday since today was rather long.

He could take them out to eat, somewhere a bit private so people wouldn't sneak pictures of them. It was the least he could do considering what he had planned for Valentine's Day–

Wait. Valentine's Day. When was that again?

It was on… Friday.

The older man had at least ten different reminders for the things he needed to do. Double, triple check his reservation. Make sure his gifts were still ready to go. So many things but then…

Tony brushed aside a stray curl as he considered.

Was Peter hinting at just staying in for Valentine's Day? It wasn't Tony's original plan but he could roll with it.

"We can if that's what you wanna do on Valentine's Day," Tony mused. "Don't wanna do anything special? Maybe a candlelit dinner, a breathtaking view of the city… We can talk about making Wall-E and EVE there, too."

Peter's eyes grew from wide to wider as he listened to Tony speak, ears perked up, fully engaged antennas. With his breath caught somewhere in his throat, Peter was certain that if he tried to answer only an excited squeal would come out.

The older man shifted a bit so that he could look Peter in the eye. He was surprised to find the normally giddy man looking anxious. Another thought crossed his mind.

"Wait– Did I not ask you about going to dinner with me on Valentine's Day?" It was with a startling sense of mortification that Tony realized he did exactly that.

They had been together for almost a year, just shy a couple months actually. And Tony… Tony, the futurist, Tony the person who tended to go overboard and plan things way ahead, had made reservations for Valentine's Day six months in advance.

The only problem was, he had forgotten to clue Peter in on it.

Heat had crept up on Peter's cheeks when he finally managed to shake his head at the man. His eyes were still big and his lips agape. And then, slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up to form a perfect smile; a smile full of delight, of fuzzy feelings that had his heart skipping a beat and his belly fill with butterflies.

"I want that!" He erupted, glowing with excitement, "A-a… a candlelit dinner!"

Taken by surprise, Peter pushed himself against Tony until the man laid flat on the couch and he, on top of him.

"I can't believe you forgot to tell me!" His chest vibrated with joyful laughter even though the tone of his voice resembled a whine.

Tony was surprised by the strength of his reaction. The boy had gone from shy and a bit cautious to being a ball of energy.

It was no wonder though if Tony had made such a blunder.

He smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend, pushing himself up so that Peter straddled his hips.

"Sorry, kiddo," Tony said. He cupped Peter's cheeks and leaned in to gently kiss his forehead. When he pulled back, he joked, "Can't even blame my old age for this one, I've always been like this. Skipping to part 8 without checking in on part 1, 2, 3."

He wanted to do better though, needed to do better because his actions had caused Peter some anxiety.

Peter looked back at the man of his dreams. His sparkling eyes roamed freely along the beautiful, breathtaking features that he adored.

His heart struck gaze paused here and there, on the deep wrinkles that formed close to Tony's eyes, on the grey hairs of his beard and mustache… On his soft, desirable lips.

"I, uhm…" Peter was clearly lost, captivated by the man before him. His eyelids fell a bit as the color of his cheeks deepened. "I was thinking… maybe afterward, we could come back here."

This time, Peter's voice was quiet. Too quiet. Full of significance that was too much for the young man to phrase.

With that, Peter's gaze fled to look at his fingers that fidgeted with the small buttons of Tony's shirt, close to his collar.

"I was thinking… maybe we could spend the night together." He meant more than he was saying, trusting in the flickering hope that Tony understood that.

With his bottom lip caught under his teeth, Peter peeked at the man again to catch his reaction.

There was no denying just exactly what Peter meant by those words. And with the younger man pressed against him, it was a temptation unlike any other.

Tony had to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. His initial reaction was to shout for joy, to tumble Peter onto his back and kiss him. Give kiss after kiss after kiss until they were both breathless from it.

When he opened his eyes, the desire was there but he kept himself under control.

This was a serious matter and even though such talk usually made his skin crawl, the last thing Tony wanted was to fuck up what they had. He didn't want Peter to have any regrets.

"I would want to," Tony said, first and foremost. There was no way he'd let Peter think he didn't want him in any shape or form. "But we don't have to, baby. Just because it's Valentine's Day… We don't have to do that. I'd be happy if you just wanted to do this… You can sleep in my arms, just let me hold you at night and that'll be more than enough for me."

This… Just being together. Laughing. Talking. building amazing things together. Watching silly and heartfelt movies about robots.

Peter nodded; a gentle gesture, despite the fact that his heart was pounding so loudly that he wondered if Tony could hear it.

They had been together for almost a year, Peter was well past the age of consent and yet… they hadn't been intimate past a certain point. It was not because Peter didn't want to, but perhaps, there had never been the right place for it, the right time.

Or perhaps, he was too nervous. Intimacy was a complicated thing, even a kiss was enough to overwhelm Peter.

But Tony had been so patient. Never pushing for more, he always took care of him.

"I know," Peter replied softly, as he cuddled closer. He rested his chin on Tony's shoulder and his fingers caressed the nape of the man's neck, rubbing a little rougher into the skin.

"But I… I want this," he whispered and his lips touched just under Tony's ear. "I'm ready."

Was he? A deep, aching desire surely told him as much, but his heart pounded frantically at the very thought. It was almost frustrating that Tony could be so patient and composed when his own body was going haywire.

But at the same time, this calmness, this control, was what drew Peter in. What ultimately lulled the craziness and made him feel safe.

Tony's arms tightened around Peter's waist and his hand came up to stroke through his thick curls of hair.

"Leave it up to me," Tony told him sincerely. "I'll take care of you, baby. We can go as slow or as fast as you need."

He gently nuzzled against the other's face, then turned so their lips could brush together softly. It was far from their first kiss but it was still just as sweet, just as exciting. Just as addicting.

Tony loved kissing Peter and the thought of doing more sent an almost terrifying thrill rushing through him. He would do everything in his power to make Peter feel as loved as Tony felt.

"It's a date then, sweetheart," Tony confirmed, "Dinner with the most handsome man in the world and then after… Whatever you want, baby. I'll make it happen just to see a smile on your face."

As if to make Tony's wish come true, a smile spread across Peter's lips. Those tender words, those touches they shared were so deeply treasured. Powerful enough to soothe away all worries.

"You are not the most handsome man in the world," he liked to counter Tony's jests about vanity.

Looking deep into his eyes, with his own, overly honest, he answered with a smirk.

"You're the most handsome in the universe, in all the universes."

Peter left another chaste kiss on Tony's lips, soft and sweet, making it known that he meant every word.

At that, Tony let out a truly genuine laugh.

Then he did exactly as his desires urged him to. He tumbled Peter onto his back, almost losing balance himself. With his boyfriend vulnerable and laid out beneath him, Tony leaned close and– booped him on the nose.

"I was talking about you, underoos," Tony chuckled. "But if you're happy to share the title, I'd be more than happy to take it up."

A bit startled, Peter looked up at him with dewy-eyed innocence. It didn't take long for him to catch up, though, and soon he was smiling widely, blushing warmly at the man above.

There it was again, his hammering heartbeat. Tony's weight on top of him sent every inch of his body in overdrive. His lower half had no quarrels, no ounce of hesitation or regard over his embarrassment. In a second, his pants were becoming tight and uncomfortable.

"Yeah…" Peter answered hazily, brown eyes focused on Tony's lips in a silent plea.

Another soft, gentle kiss followed, then Tony smiled and sat up.

"I'll get us some more snacks. Rewind the movie a bit? Gotta finish it if we wanna be serious about building our own."

He'd brave the cold for more snacks and maybe the chill would help cool off some of his growing desires. With that, Tony got up but he made sure to keep the blanket tucked around the younger man.

Peter was thankful for it, as he sat up too, following Tony around with his adoring gaze. Thankful because the tent in his jeans was still successfully hidden.

He squeezed a pillow into his arms to release some of the tension. Raging hormones were very often the reason these hugs had to be cut short. But Tony never embarrassed him for it.

"Don't be long," the young man waved a hand while still trying to calm down. "Or I might come looking."

He gestured with his chin, and once Tony left, allowed his lungs to empty the heavy, love struck sigh that he had been keeping in since the start of the movie.

Tony's laughter could be heard from the kitchen but he returned quickly enough with a refilled bowl of popcorn. He kissed Peter's temple and passed him the bowl.

He rejoined him under the blanket and casually laid his arm behind the other's shoulder.

"You keep making threats like that and you'll see where it gets you," Tony grinned, then he turned back to the movie. "Okay, Friday, baby, hit that play button."

He had so many plans in motion leading up to Valentine's Day. He could only hope those plans weren't overkill, but as far as he was concerned, Valentine's Day was the perfect excuse to shower Peter with love.

---

Tony had always been a generous person and towards those he kept close to his heart, that meant he'd shower them with gifts.

Holidays like birthdays, Valentine's Day, and Christmas were all excuses to do so. Truthfully though, he didn't need a holiday to show his appreciation. If he saw something that made him think of them, he'd buy it. If he thought up of something he could build, he'd build it.

It was that simple.

Peter was different though. No matter how many thoughts were crowding in his head, how many plans or schematics pulling themselves together in his mind, Peter Parker was there in the center of it all.

Tony had a plan for Valentine's Day and the last few days leading to it were very much included in them.

He sent roses. Not just the traditional red, but pinks and whites, yellows… Basically, a whole rainbow of roses. Each one had a note, handwritten personally by Tony and reminding Peter just what he adored about him. His smile, his laughter, his sharp, brilliant mind. Even just the way he pouted or grumbled when things didn't go exactly as planned.

Tony loved it all.

He sent chocolates and treats. Made sure Peter and May had nice breakfasts waiting for them in the morning. And during lunch, when Peter was studying or getting out of class, Tony would drop by and spend time with him.

One of those evenings, Tony took Peter to get a nice suit. It wasn't the first time Tony did it since there were plenty of events the Avengers had to attend, but this was more personal.

This was just for them.

Tony guided Peter through the process and together, they picked out a nice form fitting suit for their date. The look in his eyes was more than enough to convince anyone that Tony Stark was well and truly gone over this man.

And after, he took Peter out on the town. Nothing too fancy and nothing too exhausting. Their big day was on Friday so these were just small little things that Tony did to ease the building anticipation they both felt.

Thursday night, he dropped Peter off at the apartment. The suit had been tailored and ready for use. Tony may have helped to choose it, but he hadn't seen Peter wear it yet.

Tomorrow.

"Get some rest, sweetheart," Tony said. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay?"

Peter was glowing, a glow that many chased after in their life but only few were lucky enough to achieve. It spoke of things too dear for words, of having everything when his young heart was only in need of Tony.

That's what Tony was, his everything.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, boss." Peter grinned at his own little tease, and reached for the handle but stopped.

His eyes darted back, gravitated towards Tony. Playful and full of admiration, they said those three words that the two had shared plenty of times. Yet it was not enough, it would never be.

He watched the man go down the few stairs and before it was too late, Peter ran after him.

"Hey, you forgot something!" He called out to attract Tony's attention. As the older man turned, he was met with a sweet kiss on the lips.

"I love you," Peter whispered gently into it and just as quickly stormed back up the stairs, grinning to himself so widely that his cheeks were hurting.

That same night Peter was too excited to sleep. His palm rested on his chest that raced while he stared up at the dark ceiling. It was still decorated with little stars from when he was younger. When going to space was still a dream and nothing more.

He laid there for hours but it felt as if it was minutes. Tony held all his thoughts captive, their date and… what would follow.

Despite getting little sleep, Peter's youth gave him enough freshness the next day. He couldn't keep still through the morning and afternoon, and when it was still far too early he started getting dressed.

The suit was a marvel. A beautiful cream color that they had picked out together, its fabric one of the most expensive and finest in New York.

And yet, in some mind blowing way, while wearing it Peter managed to make it look like clothes hanging on a hanger.

"Oh no…" he palmed his cheeks while checking himself out in the mirror. "No, no, no…" The reflection stared back at him, full of rising doubts.

A clown, that's what he looked like. The resemblance was uncanny and Peter would rather hide in his room than let Tony see him this way.

Just then, when he was about to shed the jacket of the suit, his aunt came through the door.

"Oh my!" She gasped with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"Nonono, don't say a word," Peter rushed to object, but his aunt had other plans.

She circled around and adjusted the suit on his shoulders. It fit like a glove - she could see it even if Peter's eyes refused to do so.

"You look stunning, dear. We just need to push your hair back… look at that," Without waiting for his permission her fingers work his curls back to give him a more sophisticated look.

A scoff pushed up Peter's lungs, but he gave in a little. "I just… I need everything to be perfect." he sighed, "Tony deserves perfect."

"Then he's lucky to have you, don't you think?" May smiled warmly and rubbed Peter's tense shoulders. "Are you sure there isn't something else that is bothering you, dear?"

They both knew she could read him like an open book, yet Peter shook his head. "Thanks," he answered quietly, a way for him to ask for his privacy back.

Once alone, Peter rubbed his sweaty fingers together, he was so excited that his blood raced, pumped full of adrenaline. The time was getting nearer and anticipation grew greater and greater inside his heart.

But, what if nothing worked out as planned? What if aliens came down and ruined their dinner! What if… what if he was a disaster in bed? Was it really a good idea? Was it really the right time?

The doubts were like a storm of crows and not before long, Peter was taking the jacket off again. Convinced of how absurd it looked, he left it on the bed.

His eyes caught glimpse of the photo he had printed, Tony and him, in their superhero suits, posing for a selfie. It was strategically attached on the headboard of his bed, near his pillow.

Warmth flooded his chest and without even knowing it, a smile shone on his face.

There was a knock on the door, the sound pushed him right out of his daydream.

"–Said I'm good, thanks!" Peter shouted to be heard, presumably talking to his aunt but he wasn't.

The door opened and Tony took a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks.

His lovely Peter was unaware of his arrival so he was able to drink his fill without feeling too embarrassed over his gawking.

In the shop, the color and material of the suit had caught both their eyes. Tony knew right away that it would be perfect for the younger man but Peter hadn't been so sure, despite looking at it with such longing.

Looking at him now, Tony was in a daze, stunned by how absolutely gorgeous his boyfriend looked. He managed to pull himself together and save his reputation.

In an attempt to look casual, he leaned against the door, a lazy but appreciative smile on his face.

"You look stunning, Pete," Tony complimented him. "My only regret now… is that everyone at the restaurant will get to see just how handsome you look. But I can't complain, can I? Nope, not, at all. This is me not complaining because… because I'm just so damn lucky you chose to be with me."

At the sound of this beloved, familiar voice, Peter turned back around with a surprised expression. A word was about to come out his lips but it got choked back into his throat.

Tony was breathtaking. Literally.

"H-hey, hey, hi. When… w-when did you get here?" Peter stumbled through the sentence.

The clumsiness was a unique quality of his, but Tony only found it endearing and entirely adorable. The older man gave a teasing smile, cocking his head and pairing it with a casual shrug.

"Just now," he admitted, "just in time to get the best view in the house."

Tony's compliments sank in after the young man blinked hastily for a short while to take in the heart stopping, smoldering hot looks of his date.

A blush heated his cheeks and Peter pushed a stray lock behind his ear.

"Thanks," he managed a polite response now that finally his brain was mostly back in working order.

Peter strolled forward to get closer.

"You don't look too bad yourself," he teased in return and quickly glanced behind Tony's back to make sure May was nowhere to be seen.

Satisfied, he took yet another step and pushed himself up to plant a kiss on Tony's lips.

Kissing Peter was as natural as breathing and Tony found it hard to pull away. His arm slipped around the younger man's waist, more than happy to have this sweet kiss linger.

Almost reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Just need one thing, then I can spend the whole night romancing and wooing you."

Tony gave him a cheeky wink before he went to retrieve the jacket. He held it up towards the younger man to help him put it on.

Peter's eyes moved from Tony to the jacket and back again. In some extraordinary way, the man put all his worries to rest. All insecure thoughts were silenced, leaving behind rosy cheeks and a beautiful smile.

He extended his arms and twisted his body accordingly so that the sleeves could slip back on. Firm and experienced hands straightened his jacket down the middle, leaving the few buttons open to show off the delicate, flowery pattern that adorned the inner lining.

"Consider me ready to be wooed," Peter said with eagerness aplenty while looking up, deep within the other's eyes.

Out of both need and habit, he caught Tony's hand to intertwine their fingers together. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice how sweaty his palms were.

The older man gave him a warm smile and before they set off on their date, Tony brought their clasped hands up. He pressed a tender kiss over the younger man's knuckles. The look in his brown eyes was just as earnest, full of sincerity and wonder.

"Plan has been set in motion," Tony said teasingly. "Be prepared, I'll knock your socks off."

Tony kept the mood light while always making sure there was a smile on Peter's face.

The dinner was… perfect. Not perfect in the sense that everything went according to plan, but perfect in that whatever problems they bumped into, they both overcame it.

Tony had insisted on driving them into the city. He had wanted the date to have a personal touch and he knew his boyfriend was still a bit self-conscious about being driven around. A limo wasn't exactly the most low key ride ever, and he liked the idea of personally driving them.

Their reservation for the dinner had been entered incorrectly. It was set an hour after they arrived and the staff had been nervous about upsetting the great Tony Stark.

It was Valentine's Day though, and while the restaurant was packed with dining customers, Tony didn't want to ruin the mood.

They spent the hour away at the bar, their two heads leaning together, murmuring casual conversation like secrets. Peter's brown eyes were mesmerizing in the dim light, seeming to glow with pleasure.

The hour went by quickly, lost in soft chatter and casual touches. They had appetizers to soften their appetite. A drink or two accompanied the food, the amount of alcohol way below their limit but just enough that the world softened around them.

By the time their table was ready, Tony almost suggested they go back to his penthouse right then and there. But seeing the beautiful smile on Peter's face, Tony made himself wait.

He had promised his boyfriend a candlelit dinner and even though he was sure Peter was well and properly wooed, he wouldn't stop there.

The candlelit dinner was a success and it was the best memory both would ever have. The picture taken then would be one of the favorites that Tony would ever come to possess.

The city was lit up in all its colorful glory in the background. Peter was rosy cheeked from Tony's sweet whispers, a shy but pleased smile on his face. And Tony had such a goofy but genuine smile that stretched from ear to ear. His face was slightly tilted, parted lips brushing against Peter's curls.

It was them, Peter and Tony, immortalized forever in digital data as the loving and silly couple they were.

Tony loved it.

And when they arrived back at the penthouse, Tony's scarf was curled around Peter's neck. It was damn freezing for February and just that small gesture showed how he truly cared for his boyfriend.

He slipped an arm around Peter's trim waist, tucking him close to his side as they rode the elevator up.

"Thank you for this," Tony couldn't help but express, "For… For being with me. Here. For talking sense into me all those months ago."

He kissed the top of Peter's head.

"I don't know where I'd be without you, kiddo," Tony murmured.

Tilting up, Peter's eyebrows showed a bit of surprise. Yet the young man's eyes were soft with adoration over this man that made all of his dreams come true.

Throughout the night he had been smiling so wide and so often that his cheeks were hurting. A small price to pay for happiness. Led by Tony's careful planning, by his calm and controlled demeanor, nothing could have possibly ruined their date. Not even aliens.

All that worrying had been a waste of time. Or, well, there was still something left to do. Something that Peter was looking forward to since the very start of their relationship. Before that, even.

He nodded, a wicked gleam playing in his big brown eyes.

"You're welcome," Peter couldn't keep a straight face and scrunched up his nose while fighting back a grin. Finally, he shook his head, curls bouncing around with the movement.

"No, I thank you, for everything you've done for me… and for tonight. It's… it's the best night of my life." The lingering traces of humor faded entirely from his face as he looked up at the older man with silent longing.

Peter held a tissue in his hands and for the duration of the elevator ride, he was twisting it around and around, essentially shredding it to pieces by the time they arrived at the penthouse.

With Tony's palm gently touching him over his lower back, the young man stepped forward. He had been here before countless times, yet there was nervousness in his step as if he was entering a place unfamiliar.

This was finally it. His heart swelled and pounded, close to erupting. Waiting one more minute would be a minute too long, so Peter twisted around to grip Tony's hand with his own that was cold and sweaty at the same time.

The lights of the city created a glowing mist outside the huge windows of the living room, behind Peter's dark form that pulled Tony in.

"Tony…" he let out with a wanton little tone and caught his lips for an urgent kiss.

The kiss took Tony by surprise but he had wanted to kiss and touch Peter all night. The sudden urgency was what caught him off guard but he rolled with it.

It was the easiest thing for Tony to wrap his arms around the younger man. Even easier to kiss those soft lips he'd been glancing at throughout the night.

It would've been so easy to forget himself and just take and take… Let his desires run rampant and truly lose control.

But.

But this was Peter, the love of his life.

Tony took control of the kiss. His fingers slipped into those wild curls he loved so much and with a tilt of his head, slowed the kiss to a much slower but sensual pace. When he pulled back, they were both breathless with pounding hearts.

He stroked a thumb over Peter's lips and cupped his face as he looked into his eyes.

"No rush, sweetheart," Tony said softly. "C'mon, as much as I loved seeing you in this suit, let's get you outta these, hmm?"

Tony led him into the bedroom and as he did, he loosened his tie and let it hang casually around his neck. Once inside, he turned towards Peter and let his eyes really take him in.

His Peter was so handsome. So breathtaking.

Tony couldn't help but get close again, backing him up until the door pressed against his back. He stole more kisses, hungry with increasing desire. Each one still maintained that slow, passionate pace, a buildup for what was to come.

Peter kissed back, still getting impatient from time to time, but Tony's touches didn't let things get out of hand. He was thankful that his partner took control, there was safety in it.

With his back against the door, he gripped the man's loose tie to drag it down just slightly so that their lips would stay connected. Their combined hasty breaths melted into one another.

Gradually, with the efforts of two sets of hands, Peter's jacket was coming off, slipping down his built yet slender arms to touch the floor.

The lights were on but dim, and Peter could see the way Tony was looking back at him, with the same unapologetic desire.

Next, his shaky hands tugged at Tony's jacket, a roll of the man's shoulders helped to shrug it off. Peter gasped softly into the kiss as the anticipation rose inside him to the point that it was making him dizzy.

"I want you, Tony," he whispered even though they both knew it.

The heat of his body had already skyrocketed, his pants had gotten tight.

"You got me, sweetheart," Tony replied in between kisses. "All yours–" Another kiss, another hungry sound. "–as long as you want me…"

"I don't… I don't want to wait anymore," Peter's voice was nothing more than a whisper. If it was just a little bit louder, it would break.

Tony didn't want to wait either, but he didn't want to rush either. It was becoming harder by the minute to continue this slow pace, but he wanted this moment to last. He wanted to watch the pleasure fill those honey brown eyes and catalog all the different sounds his Peter made for him.

"Here–" Tony slipped a muscled thigh between Peter's legs and pressed it right against the hard outline he felt earlier.

At the same time, his hands slipped from Peter's waist down to that sinful ass he'd been teased with for the better part of the year. He gave it a nice squeeze, satisfaction bubbling from deep within when it pulled a shocked, but delighted gasp from the younger man.

He massaged it and soft groans reverberated against Peter's mouth as he used his grasp to pull their bodies tight.

His own cock was half hard in his pants, undeniable proof of just how badly Tony wanted him.

"Just like this," Tony murmured, voice dropping low with want. "Let me feel you, just like this…"

Peter always got like this, even when they were doing nothing but kissing. Having his senses dialed up to eleven all the time came with consequences, it messed with his libido. Tony messed with his libido, he was to blame just the same.

"Ah…" his fingers dug deep into the man's button-up shirt, fabric wrinkling under blunt fingernails.

Slow and sensually, their bodies moved together. Tony's thigh gave him enough friction for his eyes to squeeze shut in pleasure, for his own hips to spring into motion without concern or shame.

"That's it, baby," Tony groaned, warm breath ghosting along the sensitive skin. "Just like that… God, you're so gorgeous like this… Wanna make you feel good, Pete."

Tony's touches and hot whispers led him on. A curse was about to break free from Peter's lips but it got swallowed down. A little more and his feet were barely touching the ground.

Silent whimpers met Tony's skin, as Peter bared down, pressing so hard against him while his tight body shuddered over and over again.

"I'm sorry- I'm so sorry-" Peter gasped before it was even over, muscles trembling still with the intensity of his climax.

Regret, he felt so much regret, he didn't mean to ruin it. Panting, he kept his forehead pressed against Tony's shoulder, the only available hiding place at the moment.

Tony knew what it meant the moment he felt Peter shudder and fall apart against him. Why did that turn him on so much?

He felt even more fever hot than before. It was the knowledge that he had given Peter pleasure that had done it.

To stop the litany of apologies, Tony kissed him again. Even if Peter came, his cock was still hard, still pressed against the other's thigh.

"You're beautiful when you come," Tony told him with a soft groan. "Don't be sorry, I love seeing you fall apart for me. This isn't the end, baby, unless you want it to be?"

The last bit was asked sincerely, no pout or even a hint of teasing.

A frantic shake of Peter's head was all that he got as a first response. The young man clung onto him, refusing to let go.

Tony nosed along Peter's jawline, just breathing in the scent of his skin.

"We can take a nice bath, soak in the hot tub and clean up," Tony suggested just in case Peter was done for the night. Then because he wanted to remind Peter that he was perfectly fine with whatever pace he wanted. "Maybe we can watch another movie and cuddle up on the couch?"

"No, no, please no," Peter used words now. The last thing he wanted was for this to end.

He still felt so hot but that was not important. Tony… He was right there before him. After this amazing night, he had to have more of him.

The man that embodied all his hopes and dreams was right there, he only had to reach out and touch him.

"I want to keep going… Want to… feel you." Peter panted, flushed still while his hands slid down the man's shirt, over the muscles of his chest and stomach.

"Can I?" With his head tilted down, he turned his wanting gaze back up to find Tony's.

Tony nuzzled against his jaw and then pressed a kiss to his panting mouth.

"You can do anything you want," Tony allowed, "but let's clean you up first."

He led the younger man to the bed. His hands slid to the front of Peter's body, pausing only for a moment until he got the green light to unbuckle his belt. He helped him step out of his clothes and kissed each available stretch of skin.

His shoulders, his collarbones, his hip bone. His knee. They all received a kiss.

Then when it was his turn, Tony stood and asked, "Do you want to, or should I…?"

An audible little gulp came from Peter's throat while he knelt on the bed, all naked, staring at Tony. The faint lighting cast soft shadows on both their bodies, illuminating them with an orange glow.

"I–" Peter's voice broke, too much excitement rushing through his veins. So much, in fact, that his spent member was once again taking an interest.

"I want to do it," He was already shuffling closer to the edge of the bed to reach him.

There was something so intimate about undressing another person. Tony felt a thrill at the thought that he'd get to experience this with Peter.

He stepped closer and let his hands drop so that Peter could take over.

One last time, Peter looked up at him to get his permission, before all his attention turned to what was in front of him.

His curled fingers reached out, hesitant yet eager at the same time. The suit jacket was long gone, but the tie slid off of Tony's shoulders with a soft hiss. The button-up was removed next, each button slipped carefully from its place.

Tony had long since gotten over any form of body shyness. He knew he was desired by many, but under Peter's gaze, he felt a small fissure of doubt.

Peter was fit and in the prime of his life. So beautifully sculpted and hard panes of lean muscle. Tony's body had been through a lot and the number of scars was a testament to that. The years had also started to take a toll and while he still had defined muscles from all his hard work, they weren't as defined as that of his boyfriend's.

His shoulders tensed the tiniest bit when the shirt was pushed open, conscious of the little bit of fat that had formed around his middle. Stubborn thing, human bodies, but Tony kept his eyes on Peter's face and found only curiosity and wonder as he explored.

Tony's shoulders relaxed and his eyes slipped halfway shut in pleasure, happy to know he was giving Peter what he needed.

There was no force strong enough in this world that could stop Peter from exploring Tony's lower half.

Slowly, he rubbed over the bulge, he couldn't make out much like this and his imagination ran wild. He had felt Tony's erection before, seemed to be big, bigger than him.

The sound of the zipper was almost as loud as Peter's hammering heart in the quiet of the bedroom. Dark underwear was revealed underneath, the shape and size of Tony's cock was even more defined.

Peter touched him, focused and biting his lip so damn hard that it was turning crimson. Fondling him over the fabric, he didn't make a peep until he gripped the waistband of Tony's underwear.

"I… I'll just…" Peter mumbled, looking back up again for a split second. His cock was fully erect between his pressed close thighs, a pearl of precum glistening at the very top of his tip.

"Go on, sweetheart," Tony encouraged.

He was using every bit of his will to stop himself from chucking his pants right off. It felt as though their roles were reversed and Tony was the one eager for things to progress. A slow, deep breath helped calm those rioting emotions.

"It feels good when you touch me," he said reassuringly. He then leaned down and kissed him, something he felt he needed to do.

His pants slipped down his legs and pooled to the floor. His underwear was the last thing left and he was leaving it to Peter to remove.

Carefully, the young man pulled it all the way down, letting Tony's cock spring free. Peter must have stopped breathing as he took in the shape of him, it was so gorgeous. Full of defined veins that trailed down the shaft to the finely trimmed dark hairs that climbed up Tony's belly.

Gaping, Peter blinked slowly, so slowly and so half-heartedly that his big brown eyes were never really fully concealed behind his eyelids.

"I'm gonna join you in the bed now, okay?"

"Mm? Mhm," Peter muttered a response as his thoughts got back in gear.

Tony enjoyed the slow tease of having Peter's hands on him but he couldn't help wanting to return the touches as well. He wanted to entangle himself in the other's embrace and enjoy Peter's sweet mouth in his.

With a nod, the young man shuffled aside so that Tony could climb up in the bed with him. As soon as he did so, Peter pulled him in to feel his lips.

Tony moaned at the contact, freely showing the pleasure he got from this simple act. He leaned in, one knee on the bed to help him balance as he chased after Peter's lips.

"I take it back…" Peter let his murmur into the kiss, "You're not the most handsome man alive, you're… no man at all," It was embarrassing to say that stuff but Peter's need was so great that he didn't care for Tony's likely teases.

The blush that warmed his cheeks was steadily spreading down his neck and up to the tip of his ears.

"You're unreal, Tony, it's not fair, not fair," he let himself go, pinned under Tony's weight, legs spread apart.

There was nothing between them, no clothes, no underwear. Bare skin rubbed over bare skin, exciting them both. Before he got too excited, Peter pressed his soles into the mattress and pulled them closer to his body.

"I'm ready, I want this, please," Even as he said that, his heated frame was shivering under Tony, a testament to Peter's unbearable impatience.

Tony kissed him softly and ran his hand up and down Peter's side. His fingertips slipped over the bumps of his ribs, up and down, in a soothing caress.

"Soon, baby," Tony promised him. He kissed him once more before he reached into the bedside for the lube and condoms before falling back into Peter's embrace. "Still gotta get you ready."

"Ever done this, baby? Even just during some solo time?" Tony asked, just so he would know how to pace himself.

He still wanted to be careful, still wanted to take his time, but Peter's answer would help him figure out what his young lover was familiar with.

With a shake of his head, Peter gave him a silent answer. For reasons foretold, Peter never had the need to stimulate himself more than, well, a little. This was his first time with another man but also, his first time exploring the great pleasures his body could provide.

Peter kept his eyes on Tony, never leaving him, not for a second. Theoretically, he knew what was about to happen, so he shuffled back on the bed to lay back down with a couple of pillows nudged between him and the headboard.

"I'm- I'm really clean, you, uhm, don't need to worry about that," he mumbled, clearly referring to the nether regions with which Tony was about to play.

Peter's heart couldn't wait.

His legs were quivering as he forced them apart.

Tony had no doubt that Peter was telling the truth. He, himself, had been very meticulous in grooming himself for their date tonight. Beard trimmer, hair styled perfectly, even though now it was ruffled from Peter's touch.

With the bottle of lube on standby, Tony really looked at his soon to be lover and noticed how nervous he was. It was understandable. His brave and courageous boyfriend found it so easy to throw himself in the face of danger in their everyday lives as a superhero, but this was different.

He was trusting Tony with his heart and his body.

Tony got on his knees and settled himself between his beloved's legs. Leaning over the younger man, he took the time to kiss him soundly, one hand caressing up and down his side in a soothing manner.

The heat between their bodies was enough to make him melt and his hard cock rubbed against Peter's erection. With one large hand, he was able to encompass them both, giving slow, almost teasing strokes.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart," Tony promised. "It may feel a bit uncomfortable but it shouldn't hurt. You tell me right away if you need me to slow down or you want to stop, okay, baby?"

Quick nods came in confirmation. Peter's eyebrows were already pinched together, his lip sucked in while pleasure erupted through his lower half. Already, his fingers wrinkled the sheets and they were nowhere near getting started. Or so Peter's inexperience declared, unaware that even now, he was amidst making love with his one and only.

Tony's hips started to thrust, slowly and sensually, their cocks rubbing together. He got a bit of lube to slick their lengths and with a soft groan, Tony started to move against his lover.

"Want you to relax for me," Tony whispered against his gasping mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good again, Peter. Let me?"

He could tease and work Peter up all night if this was all Peter wanted. Just seeing the pleasure transform the younger man's face into a look of pure ecstasy was more than enough to have Tony feeling on edge.

How did he get so lucky to have this man in his life?

Peter's head pushed back into the pillows as his lips parted, letting out gasp after gasp.

"Tony… Tony…" he chanted, wound up to the fullest under the older man. "I'm getting close again," he let out breathlessly and peeked up at Tony with a hint of desperation.

Features shaped by pleasure, forehead shiny with sweat, Peter couldn't deny himself the sight of his cock pressing against Tony's.

"Oh… ah… I'll relax, I will, I want it," Words pushed out of his lungs with difficulty as he was doing anything but relaxing.

Tony slowed down, attentive to Peter's needs.

"Too much? Not enough?" Tony prompted. "Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you."

"You! I want you!" Peter had no answers other than the obvious. Swept up by desire, the world around him, around the both of them, had seized existing.

It was too much and yet not enough. Was it ever going to be enough?

Tony trailed kisses down Peter's jaw and nuzzled beneath his ear. His beard scratched against Peter's skin, leaving faint lines of pink in its wake.

His tongue peeked out, licking teasingly as he headed his way down to the younger man's collarbone. He released his hold on their erections as slippery fingers trailed down between Peter's legs over his hard cock and past his soft testicles. Tony gently rubbed against his lover's untouched hole, slicking it with lube.

"Breathe, Pete," Tony instructed, "Not gonna push in yet, but I need you to breathe for me. The more relaxed you are, the better."

He nuzzled against him once more then kissed the excited ticking of his pulse right at his throat.

"Bear down for me and it'll be easier…" Tony murmured, still circling… massaging… just letting his lover get used to the feeling of being touched there.

It was good. Peter mewled at the cold lube but before long, it warmed up, drawing heat from Tony's hot fingers and Peter's sizzling skin.

The tightness in his belly eased, encouraged by Tony's whispers that were leading him through this carefully. Peter felt kept, adored. He felt atop the highest mountain peak.

Under his arms, Peter's hands dove to grip around Tony's back. Right into his shoulder blades, his fingers rubbed red lines.

And he kept on breathing as Tony instructed, in and out, slowly. A perfect contrast to the pounding of his young heart. Another breath and ah–

"Tony," he called out into his loved one's lips. "It's good, feels good, doesn't hurt. Is it… is it good for you too?" Whispers full of need came, accompanied by cut off little breaths and a hopeful smile.

"Yeah, baby," Tony promised him, "you're making me feel so good right now… Feels like heaven when I'm with you."

One more circle before Tony decided to continue on.

"Gonna put a finger in, okay, sweetheart? Just bear down for me and breathe just like you're doing now," Tony told him before he nudged his fingertip inside.

With lube, it slid in nice and slick. He felt it the moment Peter's body clenched down, a natural response. So he waited, just letting Peter adjust to this new sensation.

"Does it feel okay, Peter?" Tony asked, nuzzling against his sweat damp curls. "You're doing so well for me, baby, doing so good already…"

For a moment, Peter laid there, surprised by the weird sensation. He nodded to ensure that Tony didn't pull back, yet soon after, shook his head as well, for nicely convoluted conclusions.

"It's weird," Peter admitted with a gasp, but Tony's murmurs reassured him once more, helped him relax just enough to not clamp down on the man's finger.

"Feels tight," Even as he said that, the feeling was already shifting. His tight rim adjusted around the digit, allowing for it to sink in further.

Rapid breaths followed, and Peter didn't need to speak for Tony to know he was starting to… like it. A gentle nudge of the young man's hips sought to push down, to take more of his finger until the tightness returned.

Then Peter's belly clenched all over again, his loose grip flexed.

"I didn't think… it would feel like this…" he even managed to spare a little laugh while drowning in Tony's kisses. Just as quickly, the humor drained from his eyes that looked up at the man pleadingly.

"More…"

Tony smiled into the kiss. He didn't want to deny him, but he didn't want to rush him either.

He gave him more, anyway. More friction, more sensation. Carefully, he started to pump his finger in and out, attentive to every minute change in Peter's expression.

It also filled him with awe to see the way the younger man's face flushed and grew lax with pleasure.

"So good…" Tony continued to praise him.

Once he was confident that Peter was ready to move on, he slipped his lone finger out, added some more lube, and then pressed two digits inside.

It was a time consuming effort but it was worth it. More than that, it was necessary because Tony wanted this to be perfect for Peter. It was almost a desperate desire, his need to make sure his young lover would look back on this time and just know how much he meant to Tony.

Sex was supposed to feel good. Body shyness and maybe some weirdness because it was new, but Peter was supposed to feel good about this. Everything Tony was doing was for him.

Two fingers became three and here, Tony had to pause. They had worked up to it, but it was still a lot. He could tell from the little crease that appeared between Peter's brows.

"Still good, sweetheart?" Tony asked.

He tipped the younger man's face towards his, brushing aside sweat damp curls and smoothing away the troubled line.

"I- I can't anymore, Tony, I can't anymore," Breathless and desperate, Peter's voice was rendered thick with his protests.

The words were almost like a splash of cold water. Tony was ready to fly off the mattress, about to do anything to make his boyfriend comfortable again.

But the worry faded as he realized the words meant something else. His tense shoulders relaxed and he slipped his fingers out of Peter's slick and loosened entrance.

The slow and careful process had tipped the young man's impatience into its breaking point. Rationally, it was what was best for him and for what was going to follow. But there was no sliver of logical thinking left in him.

He wanted Tony, he wanted him now. He yearned for him with such untamable passion that ache was a welcome trade off if it meant he could feel him sink inside.

"Please, I don't want to wait anymore, I'm ready, please," he begged in Tony's ear.

As much as Tony would rather prepare him for another thirty minutes, there was just no waiting for that long.

"I want to feel you, I want us… to become one," Peter's words come from deep within, from the most sacred place in his heart.

Tony couldn't deny him anymore. If anything, he'd take it nice and slow for him in the beginning and adjust to the situation. His own cock throbbed between his legs, an ache he had successfully ignored until now.

"We already are, Pete," Tony told him, but he still gave the younger man a grin.

He knew that Peter might retaliate for this. The careful preparation wasn't intended as teasing on Tony's part but he wouldn't blame his younger lover for seeing it that way.

He leaned in close, kissing him hard, before he pulled away.

"You know I can't say no to anything you want," Tony smiled, "And… and I admit, I was torturing myself there too. You're so handsome and perfect, Pete. It was like torture touching you like that, knowing we both wanted more…"

He retrieved the condom, effortlessly tearing a corner to open the package. Slick with lube, he pinched the tip before he rolled the condom down the length of his cock. A quick, measured stroke made sure it was properly slicked with lubrication and then he turned back towards his lover.

It felt so natural to slip between his legs and it felt so good to rub against him.

Tony's hands ran over his thighs and legs, hooking behind his knees and leading them around his hips.

"You want it like this?" He murmured against Peter's mouth. "Or you can ride me if you want. Let you control how much you take in."

He gave in to the desire to rub against him. His hips gave languid little rolls, providing the perfect amount of friction to tease his cock along Peter's erection and balls.

"Like this–" Peter whispered with no breath to spare. "Just like this."

Lips brushed over lips, chasing kiss after kiss.

There was silence, and then there was this, a moment of frozen time before an irrevocable change. It was the culmination of all their moments, all the happiness, all the sadness, all the emotions that ranged in between. But it wasn't an end, it was just the beginning.

Two hearts thumping hard and fast, triumphantly and yet with hints of despair. Perched at the very precipice of completion.

The sound of breaths that could never hope to suffice accompanied them.

"This is perfect," He needed Tony to be the one leading the action, because he knew, he would soon get lost in it.

Tony took just a moment longer as he memorized Peter's features. His curls were spread out on the pillow like a halo and his mouth parted, inviting. The warmth between their bodies and the warmth of their love… It truly was perfect.

Tony pressed closer, urged on by Peter's hungry hands and his trembling smile. He sealed his lips over his lover's as he nudged his hips closer. The tip of his cock nudged in as well, slipping slowly but surely into Peter's body.

Tony's name climbed all the way to his lips from the bottom of Peter's lungs as they emptied, but it didn't make it out. Dull ache stretched inside him, the same tightness and burn he had felt earlier only greater.

Yet, this was barely a fraction of what he was feeling. The discomfort was so closely intertwined with the surge of pleasure that he thought them to be one and the same.

Tony, his Tony… The fling that had turned into a firestorm through the years of watching him from afar, was finally allowed to combust.

With little noises and whimpers resembling too close the sounds he made during an orgasm, Peter clung on, toes curling mid air to release some of the tension.

Tony made sure not to rush. Even with his body's base instincts pushing for more, for faster, his muscles obeyed his mind as he took his time. He paused about midway, breathing coming out in shallow pants.

Tight heat surrounded the length of his cock and he paused, seeking reassurance from the younger man beneath him. Another soft kiss was pressed to the corner of Peter's lips.

"This okay?" Tony murmured as he rubbed some warmth into Peter's raised thighs.

"Yes- yes-" Peter gasped as sweat dribbled down his body. He nodded, words just weren't persuasive enough. They were coming out too desperate.

Tony breathed out some of the tension he felt. He could see it though, just how much Peter was feeling. The way his dark lashes fluttered told Tony that the experience was just on the right side of overwhelming.

He nuzzled close, hiding a silent groan against Peter's neck. Even though Tony was the more experienced one, being with Peter was just as overwhelming for him. Because… because he loved his funny, smart, and drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend.

He loved him and they were just… so good together. The next words that came out of Peter's mouth told him just how in sync they were.

"I love you, Tony, I love you," Peter's words came out like a prayer, whispered just between the two of them.

Tony erased those few inches that separated them and kissed him soundly. Peter's words rang in his mind, filled with the weight of his love.

His hand curved around Peter's cheek and he locked eyes with the younger man. Brown met brown, two souls connecting in body and soul.

"Love you, Pete," Tony told him, "Love you so much, baby… so much…"

Peter was so pliant and inviting beneath him. His lips were soft and sweet, and his arms, strong and assuring.

Tony moved with soft, gentle rocking motions, still mindful of how novel this experience was for Peter. He basked in the warmth of his body, all the while murmuring how Peter was so good and so perfect for him. A million words fell from his lips to describe the handsome brave young man he was so lucky to call his.

Just as he was Peter's.

Soon, Peter was able to take all of him and Tony groaned at the tightness that surrounded him. He still wouldn't let it fog his mind and he continued his work. It was a process but he found all those sensitive places inside of Peter that made the younger man's breath hitch and his toes curl in pleasure.

The strange sensation within Peter's body was swiftly shifting into something else. He thought it had been good this far, but the more Tony moved, the more gratifying the feeling became. Pleasure obtained so many layers.

Soon, his eyes were flying open, his mouth stretched apart as a rush of heat flooded his belly.

"Ah…! Tony…!" There was safety in knowing Tony's actions were deliberate. The man knew what he was doing to him, easily leading him up to that high and holding him there.

Tony moaned when he felt Peter tighten around him. He pushed back in, just like that, to stroke that sweet spot that rewarded him with such encouraging moans.

"There, baby?" Tony chuckled, eyes hooded with satisfaction.

"There-! It feels… so good!" The gleam of tears in his eyes never gathered enough room to grow and quickly dried.

"Mm…" Tony grunted and did it again and again.

The pleasure was clearly written on Peter's face and the older man hungered to do more, to give him more. The bed shook as he increased his pace, adding just a bit more force as he started to give his lover what he needed.

Sweat dripped from his hairline, cooling heated skin. He tossed his head back, ignoring the sweaty tendrils of hair that clung to his forehead. His focus was entirely on Peter and the way his mouth trembled, shaped into a blissed out 'O' as Tony made love to him.

He could feel Peter's cock pressed between their bellies and with one hand, he reached for it.

"Peter…" he sighed against his mouth, "You feel so good, baby… Wanna make… you feel so good…"

He started to stroke the hard length in sync with his thrusts. The amount of precum Peter was leaking by then was more than enough to slick his entire length. Tony's hand pumped, up and down, up and down, steady with just the right amount of friction to make Peter squeeze his eyes shut as the pleasure doubled, then tripled.

Tony's fingers tightened around his cock and with it, Peter's body clenched uncontrollably. He was seeing stars, squealing for air while his fingers dug into the back of Tony's neck.

Pleasure felt like a torrent, flooding him more and more with every rub Tony gave him, every thrust in his tight hole.

"Tonyy…" The young man keened next to his ear.

Peter had never called out to Tony this way before. Higher in pitch and fueled by an unbearable need, the name ripped from his burning lips when he came.

His cock pulsed in Tony's hand, squirting out spurts of cum even if Peter had come not that long ago. All his senses were consumed with lust and love.

TonyTonyTony…

Moans of fulfillment pushed out from his shuddering form. His mind went blank for that split second when he felt Tony pushing in the deepest. Squeezing him the tightest.

Peter needed to look at him. Too heavy to fully open, his eyelids danced softly, eyes made into narrow slits making it possible for him to glimpse at his lover.

Objective accomplished, Tony allowed himself to be fully present in his pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut with the threat of rolling to the back of his head and with lips parted, Tony chased after his own orgasm.

It didn't take much effort. Peter was warm and tight around his aching cock. Every thrust into his lover had Tony groaning harshly and unrestrained.

He could no longer hold himself up, consumed as he was by the need to press close. Peter's heart hammered against his chest, his own heart beating back against his ribcage in an answering call.

His name, spoken by his love, only stroked the flames inside him.

"Pete…" It was exhaled right against Peter's neck, lips brushing softly against sensitive skin.

Tony came with a harsh shudder as he sank in deep. He held Peter close in an almost bruisingly tight grip as he gave his all, emptying into his lover's body with stilted thrusts.

In the aftermath, his eyes opened, dazed for just a moment before they focused on the vision beneath him. Tony smiled and turned them on their sides. The cleanup was quick and efficient, the condom disposed and a spare washcloth used to wipe them down. Once done, he nuzzled against Peter's face, fingers curled in Peter's hair.

"How you feeling…?" Tony murmured. He stroked the edge of a cheekbone, lovingly and full of tenderness.

Next to him, nuzzling in close, so close that his nose was touching Tony's, Peter murmured sweet nothings in response. It was downright impossible to describe how he was feeling but he didn't really have to.

Glistening with sweat, his flushed face was glowing with the most spent, blissed out smile. All his adoration and amazement poured out his sparkling eyes, and after each breath, a little sound of astonishment followed.

"Tony…" he let out and pressed his lips on the other's, pulling back just as quickly to suck in a breath.

Peter was so happy that a small chuckle escaped his lips while he was still unable to answer Tony's simple question.

It took a few moments before he could look him in the eye and say, "Incredible… incredible… When… when can we go again?"

Tony had worried for a moment that it hadn't been what Peter was expecting but those words… The older man chuckled and buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck.

"Nap. Or cuddles, first," Tony demanded with a hint of laughter. "Then… Yeah, maybe we can do more."

He tilted his face to kiss Peter's jaw and then settled in, arms wrapped around the other. He didn't think he'd be able to resist for long, but then again, it wasn't like he wanted to.

"Second thought," Tony said as he sat up. "We can continue this in the shower. If you're feeling up to it?"

Peter grinned widely. His chest and heartbeat were still too rapid from the high that slowly drained away, leaving behind a fuzzy glow.

"No… You're right…" The young man gave in, eyes softening as he playfully tugged Tony back close to him.

"Cuddles first."

"Cuddles first," Tony agreed and kissed Peter's forehead before settling right back where he belonged.

#starker #madstarker writes #garnet is amazing #StarkerXOXO-2020 #fluff #moody mads #first time #NFF

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