#honestly they could probably get a workshop to fix things and call it that for work

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Market

I am back again! Are you guys ready for more domestic fluff? I hope you are!

First Drabble (with original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Ready for the guys to be trying to settle more and get used to things? I hope you are!

*---------------*

Horror leans back to look at the new gate with the newly made attached sign. The name Haven proudly displayed on it. Horror nods. All stable and ready.

A honk of a truck and Horror looks over his shoulder. Seeing the familiar truck of Crop and Straw. Horror raises a hand and leans against the post. Waiting.

They stop the truck nearby and Straw grins widely "Looks amazing! you guys made quick work of it."

Horror shrugs "Aside from Dust we are all jobless. We had free time." he snorts at the looked both brothers wear as he turns back to their house. It is still very empty with only a few necessities but that didn't matter to them.

Crop coughs before grinning "Either way. We had a bit of a question for you guys regarding that and Dust's job situation."

Horror stops and shoots them a look "What about it?" he still leads them back. Even so today is suposed to be a relax day and Dust had taken the time to pull Nightmare close and read with him. Horror would feel terrible about ruining that.

Crop follows along "You guys probably don't know but this week is kinda a festive thing going on in town. All the farms collect some goods to have a big sale and trade and everything. Some people set up games and competitions. We may be a small community but we are far spread and it brings people."

Horror nods slowly "So... why need Dust?" it does not sound like a place Dust would enjoy. At all.

Crop rubs his neck "the cooler broke. The big big cooler in the big barn we use to meet up. the city service is being difficult about coming to fix it and is asking for extra for the short notice and some excuse about some unknown holiday."

Horror frowns and turns "That sounds like active sabotage."

Straw waves his hands "we know we know we all know but that isn't the issue. wihtout that working we are either going to have to cut things short as produce kept there won't be kept fresh long enough."

Crop nods "Not to forget the actual fire hazard it makes. We were setting up there when we heard about what was going on and were wondering if Dust could come fix it."

Straw nods and looks hopeful "And it will be great for you all to partake too!"

Cross joins them looking confused "partake in what?" he looks messy and covered in mud. Which is fair as he and Killer have been trying to figure out their terrain and make it safe. They haven't had much progress so far.

Straw gives the same explanation to Cross and Cross looks troubled as he glances at the house "I mean... he and Nightmare were kind of having a break day..." Cross must have made the same conclusion horror had in mind.

Cross frowns "on the other hand... that place may be a good place to get more information on the whole farm thing and see more options for us..." he shoots him a look.

horror thinks before shrugging "I will ask Dust and Nightmare. Can you ask Killer?"

Cross nods and just shouts for the other down the terrain. Knowing Killer will come then. Horror goes inside the house.

The house is still rather empty and aside from a very large comfortable nest by the downstairs fireplace they really have hardly anything. It was to be expected as it was their first week even living in here. Maybe they can even see some stuff for their house at this market thing?

Horror pauses and smiles as he watches Nightmare just lean fully against Dust, clearly looking half asleep as Dust slowly reads a story out loud. Holdign Nightmare against him as he lounges in the nest with their babybones.

Horror feels terrible for breaking the peaceful scene as he quietly joins them and tells them the situation.

Dust thinks it over and looks at Nightmare. Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters that it is fine. They don't need to stay there long.

Dust thinks it over before agreeing. Just to quickly fix stuff and then he will come back as soon as possible.

Horror shakes his skull "We can all go together. We will look around and look for usefull things for the house while you fix it." with someone watching his back. Horror does not like the timing of which this thing broke and how difficult those people in the city are being. better stay alert.

Dust mutters stuff about it being fine but easily enough agrees to make it a group outing.

They meet up with the farm brothers and get all get in the truck.

They get to the town and the whole main road has been filled with stalls and people getting ready.

Cross agrees to stay and help Dust fix the things that need fixing while Horror takes the hold on Nightmare over. He can see the anxious look Dust shoots Nightmare before looking at him "don't put him down."

So Nightmare had been feeling a bit sore when he woke up. easy enough. Horror nods and makes sure to have a secure hold on Nightmare and that his spine stays fully supported.

Straw grins and quickly leads Dust and Cross towards where the electrics are being set up for the big market.

Killer looks around as he stretches "Well... guess we can walk around and ask people about farm stuff?"

Crop is nice enough to help and show them around. They introduce themselves and people keep looking excited when they realise they are the new group of people. Killer grins and seems to like the excitement until people glance in Nightmare's way.

Either way they talk with people and learn about what each farm specialises in. And how the introduction of magic make it possible for a lot of small farmers to survive and really keep producing without a lot of the complicated mechanism.

All around it is interesting. The meet up wiht Gerson and confirm that he can come visit one of these days to see how the house ended up looking and wave at Ellie and Dani who are clearly hard at work with trading some logs with others already. Clearly most of their work will be early in the event.

They end up playing some of the games. They find an axe throwing ring and Killer grins madly at him.

Horror sighs "No Killer."

Killer whines "Come on H! You cna win this easy peacy!"

the person manning the stand laughs "That is what everyone thinks! But the axe is a lot harder to throw and aim than people think. But! If you hit the bullseye you get to pick a prize from the highest plank!"

Killer looks at Horror "Come on H! looks at those plushies!"

Horror sighs as he shoots Killer a look before looking up. They are big and soft alright. He notices Nightmare staring at them with slightly shiny eye lights. But he just turns around to snuggle closer.

mmh.

Horror looks at Killer "Do not put him down."

Killer immediantly understands and nods as he takes Nightmare over and coos and nuzzles his tiny skull.

Horror walks over and pays enough for one game. It is expensive and normally a scam. luckily Horror has some very unfair advantage.

The man grins widely clearly thinking he won this. "Okay! You get three chances to get as many points as possible or one chance to hit the bullseye for the large prize!"

Horror takes the axe "one throw." and goes to the right spot. He feels the weight of the axe and throws it up and down a few times in his hand. Not as balanced as his own axe and the blade looks dull. So even if you aim right there is a large chance the axe won't even stick to the bullseye.

Crop looks uncertain "Guys? It is fine. We can look around first more." Crop obviously know they are still low and money "These kinda games are often scams-"

the man manning the stand huffs "They already paid for it. just be quiet." Crop glares as he huffs.

Horror nods and listens to the intructions where he is allowed to stand. Then he takes aim and throws the axe, just using pure strenght.

The axe hits the bullseye and plinters the wood as it sinks in. and it sticks.

horror slowly pulls his arm back and looks at the man "Hit the bullseye and the axe stuck. just like you explained in the rules." he takes Nightmare back and nudges him gently to look up "Which one do you want?"

Nightmare looks at the plushies and ends up picking a very large and round plush bat.

the man stammers but takes the prize down for them. Nightmare hugs the plushy and purrs softly in his hold. Horror smiles. very much worth the money. Horror is sure that Dust will agree.

Moments later they see the lights on the big barn, an old barn that got remodelled into a community center, lights up with fairy lights all along the roof, windows and large open door.

Killer grins "Seems like Dusty pulled off a miracly fix again!"

Crop grins widely "I know! lets go see and share the great news!"

They meet up with Dust and Cross and see Dust cleaning his phalanges as he speaks. something about salt and sugar in the engines of the generators and while a mess it was an easy fix once eh figured it out.

Horror nods. So it is what he thought. clear sabotage. Fitting if some large corperation wants to buy these farms out it is fitting they try to ruin one of the few large markets they have. especially as there are used to trade and show off goods and probably get more customers.

Straw rushes off to no doubt share the great news that everything can continue as planned as Horror hands Nightmare back to Dust. Dust sees the large plush bat and shoots them a look. Horror rubs his cheek sheepishly "Killer really wanted me to play the game..."

killer grins widely and speaks about the axe throwing and everything.

Dust snorts and nods as cross looks more anxious "Guys! those things are always scams!"

Killer grins widely "we scammed the scammer! Wlel not scam as Horror won fair and square but still!"

Cross groans "It was probably so expensive..."

Dust shrugs "Just money." he just looks at Nightmare as Nightmare holds part of the large bat, that Horror is still holding for him, as he leans against Dust.

Cross blinks but nods "okay i guess... and the market?"

horror half listens as Killer gives Cross and Dust an update on what they saw and what type of farms are around. Dust however seems more interested in a group of people speaking on their phones after shooting the barn shocked looks. Seems like Dust located the saboteurs.

Luckily after a quick check with the mayor the area gets locked off. The mayor gives their deep thanks to Dust and reassures him something about payment coming their way. Dust shrugs but Killer catching on and quickly explains they are from the new farm Haven and that they can be generally found there.

The mayor thanks them againa nd goes about his way.

Cross tilts his skul as he crosses his arms "Who knew that they way to get people to like you is just to fix all their stuff."

Dust shrugs before looking around "We staying or looking?"

They end up taking the time to look around and meet some more people as they are there anyway. Also get a general idea how expensive phones are in this universe and what their own options for a farm are.

Before they know it is it time to eat and they eat out at the market before gettin Crop and STraw to drive them home.

The day had been busier than they had all expected but all in all not bad.

*---------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[dear-wonderland]

Chapter 1

‘Is this love?’

Kenji Kishimoto x reader

<this takes place before shatter me>

<Contains some cussing><just in case someone needs it… (y/n); your name, (l/n) last name>

Your the adopted daughter of the Supreme Commander Anderson, you were brought in at a young age due to your intelligence when it came to tinkering with machines. Now you are know as Aaron's right hand, someone to be feared, creating all sorts of weapons for the Reestablishment, over time you have learned to keep your emotions in check and hardly ever smile... but what happens when an annoyingly cute new soldier is constantly trying to get your attention? Will your emotions start to spark again? Or will this mess of a world shatter your love story until it becomes nothing but a lost dream. Only time will tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know what time it was or how long I had been down here and honestly I didn’t care.

I was mindlessly tinkering with whatever I could find trying to cure my boredom, lately that seems like all I do, wake up, eat, work, and sleep, it feels like my life is constantly repeating itself, nothing ever changes, I feel like I’m slowly losing my god damn mind…

With a sigh I put down my equipment as I look at the Ak-47 I was building, I get up from my seat as I stretch looking at my surroundings, I was currently in my workshop, a giant room located under the main building in sector 45.

I take a quick look at my many projects, from pistols to tanks I have fixed and improved them all, of course I’m not the only person working in this section, but I am the one who fixes the things that no one else can, in other words I am irreplaceable to this sector, something I have worked my ass off to accomplish, Anderson might have taken me in but that doesn’t mean I got any special treatment I know damn well if I am to fail at my job I won’t go unpunished, that man has always been good at keeping everyone in there place.

I am quickly snapped out of my thoughts when I hear knocking at the door

“come in!” I say,

a soldier steps into the room

“good afternoon Miss (l/n)” the soldier gives a quick bow as a sign of respect

“Is there something you need?” I ask, the soldier was quick to answer my question,

“Sir Warner has called for you”

“has he now… for what purpose?”

“to welcome the new recruits Miss, he wants you to be ready in 8 hours”

this answer surprised me, I didn’t expect to welcome recruits so soon after the last bunch,

“very well, tell him I’ll be there”

the soldier gave one last bow as he left the room, it was quiet for a while before I decided to go to my private chambers, ‘I should probably prepare…’

—————————

After a shower I dressed into elegant clothes, just like Aaron I enjoyed looking presentable, especially when it came to important matters, I tidied up my hair as I gave myself one last look in the mirror.

After assuring myself that everything was in place I walk towards the location in which the assembly is taking place, I spotted Aaron waiting for me in the hall, once I approached him he gave me a small nod and walked into the auditorium, i quickly followed behind him.

I looked around the room towards the thousands of men, Aaron quickly found his place in front of the podium as I took my place next to him.

While he started to give his welcome speech I took the opportunity to give a closer look at the soldiers trying my best to memorize all the new faces, none of the soldiers where looking at me all to focused on the speech my brother was giving,

that was until i made eye contact with one particular man catching me a bit off guard, the man had a defined jawline and eyes as pitch-black as his hair,

for a second i wasn’t quite sure how to react so i sort of just froze, the man noticed this and i realized that he started smirking at my reaction, this pissed me off, ‘just who does this guy think he is?’,

a threw him a glare, there was no way I was going to let this guy look so damn smug for absolutely no apparent reason, unfortunately he didn’t look to intimidated by my stare and his smile only grew bigger, ‘fuck this guy!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally chapter 1 is out! I’ll try and make the next chapters a little longer but first I wanted to get the introduction out of the way!

<Just a little note! Reader is older then Aaron (you can decide by how much I won’t specify a number) I just wanted to make her closer to Kenji’s age who if i recall correctly is 20.>

[irondad-defensesquad]

Sorry seems to be the hardest word - Chapter 2

Read chapter 1 here! (Also posted on AO3)

I'm sorry I took a while to finish this story, but here we are! I do hope this is a satisfying conclusion. I also don't write Happy often, so I apologize if he's OOC.

TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter) - alcohol abuse and past child abuse

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

He doesn’t get any texts from Peter.

It’s already night.

Tony knows he doesn’t have the right to pity himself after fucking up this badly. He already feels guilty for the ferry incident, even if Peter did make mistakes. But this time is different. Peter didn’t do anything wrong. He could tell Tony wasn’t feeling great, so he just wanted to help, to fix the already broken car part. And Tony didn’t bother seeing that. Hell, he didn’t even praise Peter for acing his test. He just reduced him to an annoyance in his workshop that had to stay quiet in the corner.

At the same time Tony didn’t want to tell Peter to go away, he still made him feel like he didn’t want the kid there.

Imagine how Peter must be feeling. He’s probably not going to show up at the Compound anymore. He must think Tony hates him. Or he’s going to expect Tony to blow up and maybe do something worse than yelling.

Tony has long since abandoned the workshop. He’s at the lonely kitchen all by himself, if not for the bottle of scotch he hasn’t touched in forever, and his silent Stark Phone. Pepper is coming home later tonight, which is honestly a relief. After what he did to Peter, the last thing Tony wants is to hurt anyone else. Especially Pepper.

(Now that he thinks of it, he’s even surprised that Pepper wanted to get back together with him.)

His own hateful words that he threw at Peter replay in his head like a broken record. But most importantly, Tony replays the exact moment the kid’s innocent puppy eyes were tainted, all the insecurities he already dealt with becoming reality, his childhood hero turning against him like that. Peter definitely still feels guilty about the ferry, and Tony only threw more gasoline in the fire.

Why? God, why? How could Tony fuck everything up so badly?

Tony has been crying since Peter left. He hasn’t cried this much in years, decades. It’s like everything is coming back to him: Howard threatening his younger self not to cry, Rogers and Barnes leaving Tony in Siberia, all of the Avengers leaving him, Vision disappearing most of the time, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy nearly dying… Hurting Peter, then, one of the most loyal people Tony has ever known, was the last straw.

It’s like that whole storm, that once released only thunder that hurt Peter, has turned into heavy rain. The rage remains there, but now it’s washed over by the grief, the knowledge that Tony fucked up big time, and he won’t be able to fix it.

He’s sobbing quietly, hiding his bloodshot eyes. He hasn’t moved from this chair for quite a while. Besides taking sips of scotch, Tony only checks his phone obsessively. No new messages. No lost calls. Not even Karen letting him know Peter is patrolling.

Tony just wants to know if Peter is okay. But he doesn’t have the courage to text him. Tony doesn’t want to look desperate. Even if all he wants is to find Peter and hug him the tightest he could. He can’t.

He wishes he could throw the phone away.

…

There are footsteps coming to him.

(Peter?)

“... Tony?”

(No. Of course not.)

He barely looks at Happy, not expecting anyone to show up.

“Hey, Hap,” the pathetic, drunk man swallows his painful sobs. “You want a drink?” When he senses Happy’s concerned frown, Tony sighs. “Oh, right, you’re going home. Sorry.”

He takes another sip. He’s probably nearing half of the bottle at this point.

“... Did Peter get home okay?” Tony wonders.

“Yeah.”

“Did he… say anything?”

Happy shakes his head. “He was very quiet on the ride home. He sent me a text just now telling me he won’t patrol tonight. His aunt is home with him.”

Tony nods, still relieved to hear Peter won’t be alone in his apartment. Of course, he’s the reason why Peter won’t go out as Spider-Man, and he hates that.

“Tony… what happened?” The driver asks, taking a seat next to him but keeping some distance. “I’ve never seen either of you like this.”

The other man inhales, tearing up.

“I said the absolute worst things to him,” Tony recalls. “I called him stupid, I didn’t bother to give him attention, I didn’t praise him for doing well in school… I just told him to do his thing in his corner and not bug me. Like he was just a nuisance and I didn’t want him around.” He pauses. “I was having a shitty day and I forgot that he was coming over. I didn’t want to tell him to go all the way back home, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. Instead I was more concerned about my stupid tech than him.”

Happy listens in silence.

“Then when he broke something I was trying to fix but without any results… I got so angry. I was already angry I couldn’t fix it, but then he dropped it, and I exploded. Everything that came out of my mouth just became worse. And even while I yelled, I could tell Peter was scared, and I didn’t stop until I realized I was stepping towards him, like I was going to do something to him. God, Happy, the look he gave me… and Peter ran away from me. He ran away the fastest he could. It was like I was seeing myself run away from my dad, after I failed to do what he wanted.”

Tony sniffs, already feeling the migraine pestering him.

“... it feels like my worst nightmare became reality,” Tony admits. “I became my dad. And I hurt my kid.” He sobs without any filter. His chest hurts so badly, it’s like those scraps of metal are still there stabbing his heart.

For now, Happy doesn’t say anything, but he does put a hand on Tony’s back comfortingly.

“He means so much to me, Happy, and I screwed everything up again. He must think I hate him. That he’s just some obligation, and not a real person. What am I going to do?” What will my life be without my kid? He would’ve added.

His friend takes a while before breathing in deeply, perhaps thinking of what to say next.

“Tony… I’m sorry I don’t have a lot to say to make you feel better. I wish I could say everything will turn out okay and Peter will come around, but I don’t really know that. However, I will say that you need to give the kid some time. In the heat of the moment, no one’s going to think properly. You are both going to need some space to breathe. You’ll have to focus on yourself. I know that’s easy to say, I know you’re feeling a lot of guilt and you wish you could fix everything… but give it time. Punishing yourself is not going to help. It’ll make you feel worse in the long run.”

It’s the kind of thing everyone has told Tony, Happy included. But in moments like this, Tony tends to forget. Even then, Happy is not tired of saying that. He’s ready to remind him whenever Tony needs.

The latter attempts to dry his soaked face with his arm, to no avail. Happy hands him a napkin that Tony didn’t remember was also on the table.

“When you screw things up, when you hurt someone… you hate yourself for it. Those thoughts can be too much,” Happy continues. “It’s hard to remember this after all the things you survived on your own, but you’re not alone, Tony. You can count on me, Pepper and Rhodey. We’ll be here for you when you need us.” He grins.

Tony is able to listen to Happy instead of the alcohol or the guilt. They’ve known each other for so long that Happy is pretty familiar to all of this. He’s seen the worst of Tony plenty of times. And he’s still here.

The other man finally wraps his arms around his favorite forehead of security, who readily allows it. They don’t have to share any words right now.

Eventually, Happy lets go, silently taking away the bottle of scotch. Then, he returns with a glass of water for Tony.

“Will you stay?” The latter asks, a bit insecurely. After everything Happy must have dealt with today – and on a daily basis, honestly –, he expects him to go home as he should.

“Sure,” Happy answers without hesitation.

Tony doesn’t have a lot of strength to smile. If anything, it makes him want to cry waterfalls again. Happy still reads the gratefulness and relief that Tony won’t be alone with his spiraling thoughts tonight.

Happy even cooks him dinner. Obviously nothing much, considering the amount of alcohol Tony drank. He only takes a few bites, mostly drinking water.

They watch TV together. One of the channels is airing Star Wars, which brings back the pain in Tony’s heart. He doesn’t need to say anything for Happy to switch to a silly sitcom. It’s stupid but it’s light. Happy just makes comments about the show, which does bring a weak smirk to Tony's face.

Eventually, Tony falls asleep without realizing. Happy must have carried him to bed.

When the former wakes up in the middle of the night, hoping for the previous day to be a nightmare – which unfortunately isn’t the case –, Pepper is spooning him.

Tony, albeit heartbroken, is able to breathe again.

--

The next few days aren’t easy.

Tony keeps pacing in front of Peter’s room, as if he were there. He knows he isn’t. Tony keeps the door closed, not wanting to remember the emptiness that he caused, nor the neatly organized, untouched bed.

Tony eats breakfast for one person. However, he finds some positive sticky notes lying around, which is what he usually does for Pepper when she’s home. When she has time, she texts him to ask how he’s doing. Rhodey does the same, sometimes complaining about work to cheer Tony up. Happy, of course, keeps in touch with him as they usually do.

The mechanic hasn’t been in the workshop lately. The rare times he does go inside, it’s only to check on his bots. DUM-E looks sad. He misses Peter, too.

Tony drinks water. He watches meaningless movies. Just those he can distract himself without thinking too hard. Sometimes he goes outside to get some air.

He’s aware that Peter is going on patrol these days. Tony avoids checking the Baby Monitor 24/7. If anything, Karen and F.R.I.D.A.Y will let him know if the kid is in trouble. Fortunately, Peter doesn’t get badly hurt, and Tony could not be more relieved.

The boy is still giving his reports to Happy. Peter seems to be doing well overall.

Tony does freeze when he gets a text from May. He thinks he’s screwed, but she doesn’t appear to hate him. She doesn’t ask what happened, and Tony doesn’t know what Peter must have told her. Still, May hopes he’s doing okay, and that he and Peter figure things out, even if it takes some time. Tony appreciates the kind words, though he also apologizes to her. He tells her she does a great job raising Peter.

A week goes by. Peter doesn’t stay over the weekend. Nothing goes wrong in patrol. He seems okay.

That’s all Tony wants.

Even if he’s not part of Peter’s life.

--

It’s the second week without directly talking to Peter.

It’s almost the same as the last one. The difference being that Pepper, Rhodey and Happy came over and they ordered burgers. They shared a lot of laughs and old stories. Tony hasn’t been as flamboyant as he usually is, but he feels much lighter, even if the melancholy and loneliness persist.

At least Tony isn’t glued to his phone or any other screen to check on Peter. He’s doing better, trying to focus on himself like Happy suggested.

The weekend comes along again and he’s not even really thinking about his plans, when he hears a familiar ringtone. The Ramones song that he hasn’t heard in a while. Tony thinks he’s just hearing things, only to see the contact on the screen. The goofy face Peter chose as his contact photo… Tony never thought he’d see it again.

“Peter?” He picks up. He hates how shocked he sounds. Tony wonders if something went wrong and Peter needs help. Why else would he call him?

“H-Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter replies. Although a little shy, he doesn’t sound to be wounded.

Tony strives not to sigh in relief. “Hey, kid.”

“Hi.”

The man snickers, “Hi.”

“Uh, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much, really. What about you?”

It’s pretty awkward, but it’s not forced, if that makes sense.

“Ah, I just got out of school. I was, um, talking to Happy, but I thought I might ask you first…” Peter is anxious. “Is it okay if I go upstate today?”

Tony wasn’t expecting that. He tries to sound as casual about it as he can. “Of course.”

“Great! I mean, uh, cool. I think Happy is already on his way here.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiles. “See ya, kid.”

“See ya, Mr. Stark.”

If Tony isn’t hearing things, Peter seems relieved, like he was expecting Tony to still be angry with him…

Obviously, the car ride is long, so Tony paces a little from room to room. He wonders why Peter decided to come over. Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to forgive Tony? Is he not going to forgive Tony? Is he going to say goodbye? But then why would Peter sound so excited to come back?

Oh my god, Tony’s mind won’t shut up. He’s trying to take deep breaths, but it’s hard. The anxiety is rising in his chest. Tony has no idea what’s going to happen next.

When Happy texts him he’s near, Tony considers waiting for them outside, unlike all the other times Peter stayed over, as Tony was usually in the lab. The man doesn’t want to face the workshop for now, and he wants Peter to know he’s welcome here. He hopes it doesn’t make things somehow more awkward, though.

Tony is a literal mess.

Anyway, here he is, outside of the building, waiting as though he’s that same kid expecting the black car to pick him up from school. Only Tony is waiting for the boy, he supposes.

Happy’s car arrives. The passenger door opens…

Peter looks the same bright kid, wearing the blue school uniform. He doesn’t come too close, but he grins at Tony, as if he’s genuinely happy to be here.

“Hi!” The boy says.

“Hi,” Tony replies, with so many emotions battling for control.

“Thanks for the ride, Happy!” Peter turns around and waves.

“Sure, kid.” Happy is smiling at them both, especially Tony. “I’ll see you around.”

Tony smiles back. Thank you for everything.

With that, the car drives away once more. Tony and Peter are still standing there, turning to each other and not knowing how to approach. Tony is afraid of casually touching Peter like he does, not wanting to disrespect any boundaries, so he just gestures at him to follow.

Their way inside is quiet. So many unspoken words that neither of them are able to express. When they get there, Peter goes to his room first, probably to leave his things there. Tony drinks coffee but with milk this time. He notices how long Peter is taking to come back. Maybe he’s changing into something more comfortable. Or maybe he’s preparing himself to talk to Tony. The latter has no idea.

After a while, Peter comes back, having not changed clothes, but holding one of his school notebooks.

“What’s up?” Tony asks, hoping not to pry.

“Oh, um…” Peter looks down nervously. “Well… I guess I just wanted to… apologize for not, y’know, really talking to you.”

It just breaks Tony’s heart, really. “No, kid, you… you had the right to take some time for yourself, okay? You don’t have to be sorry.”

Peter is fidgeting with his notebook.

“I mean, I was… worried about you. You weren’t having a good day the last time I was here, and I felt like I made things worse. That’s why I didn’t text you or call you, but Happy kept me updated, and I’m glad you weren’t alone this whole time.”

“Peter…” Tony approaches but doesn’t get too close. Even after the horrible things he said, the kid still worried about him…

“I’ve been… thinking. A lot.” (Tony braces himself, for some reason.) “A-About what you offered before I left,” Peter says. “Like, us fixing what I broke. But I remembered you said that it was already broken and you couldn’t fix it, and I could see how that was upsetting you. So I thought… what if we built something else out of it?”

What?

“A-Actually, I had some ideas.” Peter opens his notebook, skimming through the pages, until he reaches a couple of drawings. “I sketched them in class, but, um, they wouldn’t really serve any purpose. It would be more like arts and crafts. Not sure if you’d like that…”

Regardless, he hands Tony the drawings. The man carefully analyzes each one. There are many written notes in the middle. Although they’re simple sketches, Tony could see how much thought Peter put into them. One of them even looks heart-shaped.

“I just thought… it could be fun, y’know? You love building things. It doesn’t have to make you unhappy. I know you wanted to fix it exactly the way it was, but sometimes… it’s good to make something new out of it.”

Tony has been trying so hard not to cry in front of Peter, but… this kid went this far to make his mentor feel better. He doesn’t even have to say he forgave Tony. Or maybe he never resented him. Maybe Peter wants Tony to forgive him.

“I-I mean, we don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” Peter suddenly grows anxious, maybe noting Tony’s stunned silence. “I just thought it could help, but maybe you don’t want me coming up with stupid ideas and ruining everything all over again. T-That’s okay. This is silly.” He laughs nervously. “And maybe I should’ve considered you might have thrown that car part away, so I guess these are useless, haha! You can give them back and I’ll just go to my room–” He’s ready to take the notebook back and hide his ideas forever, and pretend they were never mentioned.

“No, no, Peter… these are…” Tony can’t help the sniff. “Kid, you’re a genius. A literal genius, you know that?”

Peter looks surprised to hear those words, and it kills Tony inside.

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark,” the boy blushes, dismissing the praise. “They’re so dumb.”

“No, they aren’t. I love them, they’re brilliant. And I still have that car part, by the way. Even then, they could never be useless.”

“Oh.” Peter doesn’t seem to believe the compliments.

And it’s not his fault.

“Peter, you’re not useless. I made you feel like that. I ignored you, I wasn’t honest with you, I just told you to stay in the corner. And you did nothing wrong when you broke the car part. Whether or not it was already broken, no tech of mine could ever be more important than you,” Tony tells him. “I was unfair to you by bringing up the ferry, after everything you did to be better… and here you didn’t need to be better. You don’t need to prove that you’re worth my time. You don’t have to be perfect. You’re you, and… I love you.”

The boy seems to be listening now. His eyes start glowing.

“I love you so much, Peter,” Tony no longer can hide the tears that roll down his face. “Just being with you is worth it. We don’t even have to build anything. The days I get to spend with you, they’re my favorite of the week. I love getting your calls, your texts, your voicemails, you can tell me literally anything and I’ll want to know. You have no idea how much you mean to me, kid. I hope I never, ever make you feel otherwise again.”

Peter launches himself towards Tony, hugging him tightly, like he’s wanted to do this the whole time. Tony just squeezes him in return, hiding his teary face in Peter’s shoulder.

“I-I love you, too, Tony,” the kid whispers.

Their hug is a mess. And that’s okay.

There’s so much relief, after believing the other hated them this whole time. It’s such a joy to be together again.

Finally, going to the workshop seems to attract the sunlight it deeply missed. Tony and Peter start building one of the latter’s ideas, without any deadline. Tony remembers a happy memory this time, when he built DUM-E back in the MIT days. Something no one gets its “purpose”, but one of Tony’s most treasured inventions.

DUM-E is happy to see Peter again. He does his best to help.

Tony gets to build something with someone he loves. No expectations.

That’s all he could ever ask for.

[hekate1308]

And That Special Quiet On Christmas Morn, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 6

Read it on AO3

Masterpost

At first, Dean, in this new weird part of his life, didn’t realize that no one could hear Castiel but him. This was mostly because the painting only ever talked when they were alone, probably because he didn’t want to shock anyone else the way he had Dean. But then Sam came to visit, as he often did in the evenings.

“Are you still working?”

“I was just finishing up” he told him honestly. He was very aware that otherwise, Sam would have told him off. He had already been quite angry when he had heard about the roof since he had seen it as another proof that Dean didn’t pay enough attention to what had to be done when he was in his workshop.

As he put his tools away, he looked at Castiel and wondered if he should introduce them, but he took the decision away from him when he said, “Hello, Sam.”

He didn’t react. Dean looked at the painting again, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sam couldn’t hear him which most likely meant no one else could either.

He was very aware that this was another point in favour ofd the losing his mind theory, but on the other hand, his brother clearly hadn’t noticed anything amiss, and he was the one who knew him best, so he probably didn’t have to be too worried yet.

So he continued to be the only one Castiel had ever spoken to, that was something he supposed. He threw him another glance.

“You do not have to apologize”.

Castiel might not have known much about how the world worked, but he got Dean. It was a really weird thought, especially because he’d rarely clicked with people like that in real life.

“Dean?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Was thinking about stuff.”

“You work too much.”

And of coruse said old discussion would rear its head.

“You really do spentd a lot of time ihere.”

And now Casti9el was in on it, too. Wonderful. Sam would have appreciated it if he could have heard him.

“I have orders, and the Christmas market is coming up.”

“As if you don’t have enough stuff already.”

“Still… wouldn’t want to disappoint people.”

“Dean, you’ve never disappointed anyone in your life.”

It was one of those things that Sam now and then said that made him uncofmrotabel so he didn’t reply anything, chosing to focus on putting the rest of his toold away.

“And you’re sure the roof is fixed?”

“You know Crowley, he wouldn’t bring anyone but the best.”

Sam frowned, but that was nothing new – his brother nad friend had never gotten along, as a matter of fact, Sam kept telling him that Crowley was sure to eventually go full supervillain because he didn’t get him.

“Woulödn’t let me pay” Dean therefore continued.

He would say that – it was always fun to see Sam struggle to comprehend that Crowley could do a decent thing if he wanted to. “That was nice of him” he forced out.

“Yes, well, mostly I wiush he wouldn’t keep doing that kind of stuff. He just shows up, does what he wants, and leaves.”

“Isn’t that how Crowley operates?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. Anyway, want a beer?”

As they left the workshop, he had to suppress the urge to tell Castiel goodbye, as he had grown used to over the past fgew days.

He really was going insane, wasn’t he.

And yet, after he’d handed Sam his beer, his brother said, “You look well.”

He couldn’t help but blink at him before saying, “I am?”

“That’s not what I meant. You don’t look so run down.”

Once more, he didn’t knbow what to say. “Well, I’m having fun. You know I love my jobn. And Christmas is coming up.”

Sam’s eyes softened. “I know.”

Thesy wer esilnet for a moment as they both remembered the Christmases of their early years that perhaps should not have been called Christmases in the first place. Dean had always tried his hardest to make sure that Sam got a few presents, not that this meant much when one was only seven years old and didn’t understand why one’s dad wouldn’t just go out and get them a tree…

Well, they always had one now, and a big party because if you asked Dean, he had earned that much, and so far people had never complained.

He suddenly wondered what they would say if he announced that he had a magical painting, but decided it was not a good idea.

“Anyway, so what are you up to? I assume there’s another very complicated case you have to deal with.”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“Close nough for me.”

Sam gave him a bitch face and Dean laughed.

[dragon-subway]

you said heist crew first and thus, humbly holding these guys up. in order theres Marcus, Bon, Thistle and Makk - theres also a kx droid who i havent drawn yet (K-1o3). will say they're not just a heist crew n honestly take most jobs that their skillgroup can work for but heists tend to be the most common.

(edit: realised this is probably super long for mobile users so putting it under a read more)

Marcus would be the unoffical leader as the one who brought them all together and the main negotiator and handler for what jobs theyre taking. He's fairly relaxed, sometimes to a fault, but ultimately very reliable.

Bon is.... a major jerk. All of the time. Easily the least agreeable of the group. He's in charge of getting all information that could be useful for a job - schematics, gaurd scheduels, you name it. Also the best at stealth and the largest of the group. Can have and will pick the slowest of whoever is there when they have to bolt but only because he doesnt want them to sell him out should they get captured or so he says.

Thistle is the mechanic, splicer and driver. Also the one who has the most legitimate job. She's very much a be kind but take no shit kind of lady, forever fascinated by a challenge in her feild. very competitive. Despite not being in the feild she's the hardest hitter after K-1o3 and keeps a close gaurd of the ship, dealing with problems herself.

Makk..... exists. He's got a lot of weird but useful information and skills he usually gives a non-answer to explain. Able to squeeze through vents and smaller crevises than the rest of the group. Very affectionate to Bon's dismay, who is also makk's favourite target of teasing until he gets thown off of him

K-1o3 is their droid, a reprogrammed and fixed up by thistle after being thrown out as a broken gaurd. often used as their cover story to break into places and the main fighter of the crew. his ultimate loyalty is to thistle and generally sticks to her side like her personal bodyguard despite the fact she can absolutely take care of herself.

They all originate from Coruscant and thats where their homes and main base (thistle's workshop) are. sorta kinda knew eachother around town, especially in the underground scene. marcus would ask them all for odd things n they were all curious as to what he was using them for so he proposed they all work on one job together since they'd all have the skills needed n that sort of thing steadily increased until they got comfortable around eachother enough to call em friends

Timeline wise, theyre mostly acitive in the late-ish clone wars through the reign of the empire. honstly the switch from the republic didnt really change much for them motivations wise.

As for connections, Bon has semi regular contact with Essie and Fen (the main jedi ocs) to trade things for important information. Also how Essie found out about that fighting ring in the first place though honestly the whole group (minus K-1o3 since he's post o66) have met with at least someone from the 792nd and 793rd. They also end up interacting with the bad batch quite often, especially in the working-for-sid era since they'd be out on a lot more odd jobs - their relationship being best described like this:

btw guys. guys. can you tell me about your star wars ocs? guys.

[soulsxng]

🎮 for Io and Luvi?

@desiderium-eden | Details about ocs | Accepting!

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

Io

- Wood carving: Mostly started as something he did to keep his hands busy, so he wouldn't fidget too much. Io has a hard time staying still for very long if he doesn't have something that he can keep himself focused on, and this helps him a lot with that.

- Theatre: Watching, that is. Because really, what's a play if not dramatic story-telling? He's picky about the kinds he goes to see, though.

- Going out with/being around friends: Honestly this is probably the top of the list. Io is just...an outrageously outgoing and social person, honestly. He thrives when he's around other people-- especially his friends! That's why even when he's not actively working, he can usually be found hanging around in Rhezar's. He's just hanging out because he enjoys it. Swapping stories and catching up, listening to other people talk, watching what kinds of shenanigans people get up to...he really just enjoys that kind of stuff.

Luvi

- Crafting: I...really wasn't sure what to call this. He just likes being able to make, or fix things. And he's actually really good at it! From building a table from scratch, to sewing a patch on clothes, it kind of started when he was younger, and Zahine would let him help with fixing (the plethora of) broken or malfunctioning things around wherever they were calling their base at the times. After all, their group was pretty infamous, so it wasn't like they could usually risk just running out as they pleased, and grab fancy new things to replace the old ones when they broke or wore down. Anyway, I think something that he could probably get into, is having a little workshop where he can make/repurpose things as he pleases. - People watching: SImilar to Io, and yet also the exact opposite of Io, at the same time. Luvi is definitely not the most social person in the world, but he doesn't really do well being alone for very long, either. Instead, he prefers to just sit back while watching and listening to whatever is going on around him. He finds it relaxing, to the point where he actually tends to use clips of people talking about different things, or just like...general people moving around and doing things types of noises, when he's going to sleep.

- Gambling: ...Yeah. They both kind of have a problem. Luvi's isn't as bad as Io's though, which is why Io can't really go to any gambling establishments these days, while Luvi can. (It's also why gambling can be listed as a hobby on Luvi's and not Io's, haha) He's especially good at card games, but also tends to have good luck with things like roulette!

[weatheredleatherhat]

Could I request a Heis x Reader where the Reader’s like a takes-no-bullshit, badass and outspoken person and Heiseberg has heart eyes for someone for the first time ever. He constantly tries to get their attention and loves that they play hard to get. Maybe it turns into some rough! smut if you’re comfy with it?

((Honestly I love the thought of Heis getting whipped by someone even mouthier than him. Here you go!! I went a lil ham, and basically made it smut with a sorta plot if you squint. Also added a bit of fluff at the end, because Karl and Reader deserve nice things. Hope you like it!!))

Content warnings: Smut, rough sex, reader has a vagina, unprotected sex (use a condom kids!), fingering, fluff at the end

18+ MINORS DNI

“KARL HEISENBERG!!”

Ah, shit.

For a second, he was tempted to make a break for it, hide himself somewhere that you couldn’t find him. Whenever you called him by his full name, it probably meant you considered him to be in deep shit. To be honest, he’d first kept you around as nothing more than a novelty; he enjoyed the fact that you refused to bow down and kiss his ass like so many others would. You’d yell at him like he wasn’t able to snap your spine in half, and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind whenever he did something that displeased you. But most of all, you laughed and joked with him. Treated him like he was just a normal human being, not some monster he was used to thinking himself as all these years. Your smile could light up a room, and he found himself wanting to hear your laugh so badly he’d go out of his way to get you to do it.

Then again, he also quickly remembered this was his own damn factory, and he wasn’t gonna hide from shit.

The door to his workshop slammed open, and if looks could kill he would have been struck down on the spot. In your hands were what looked to be the remnants of a radio, wires spilling out of the body like guts. Leaning back in his chair as he puffed on the cigar in his mouth, a wide grin spread across his face as if nothing was wrong. He looked smug as he always off, hat placed on the table and cigar in his mouth. “Buttercup!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘Buttercup’ me, you son of a bitch,” you snarled, stomping over to his desk and slamming the radio down on his table, crumpling the blueprints underneath. You heard him swore in protest, but you ignored it. “This was my goddamn radio, and yet you decided you needed a receiver and just took it apart?!”

He frowned at you, shrugging as he looked down at the remains of the machinery. “I couldn’t be bothered to find one through the damn scrap pile.”

Your fury seemed to increase tenfold as you rubbed a hand over your face. You started laughing, but there was barely any humour in it. He knew his response had struck a nerve, and he was in even deeper shit. Then again, you were kinda hot when you were enraged.

A finger was pointed at him as you jabbed it towards his chest. “You’re either fixing it, or finding me a new radio.”

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow towards you. “Or what?”

“Or that,” you gestured your head towards the radio, “is going over your fucking head.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, calmly stubbing out his cigar in the ashtray before standing to his full height. He took careful strides towards you, his face unreadable, though a spark of savage want flickered in his eyes. You stood your ground, arms crossed as you craned your neck up to look at him, your jaw squared and posture strong. “You really think it’s wise to threaten me, doll?” he asked, voice low with a gravelly edge that caused heat to pool in your core. Lifting a hand, his fingers tangled into the ends of your hair, giving a playful tug. He couldn’t help but notice the pink to your cheeks, and he wondered how far he could go with this. “You get a little thrill out of it? That it? You yell at me because you get off on it?”

You rubbed your thighs together as subtly as you could, but he noticed, his grin widening to levels of near lunacy. “I-it’s not like that,” you stammered, dropping the eye contact to look down at the floor. The grip on your hair moved to grab more purchase at the base of your skull, forcing you to look back up at him. He stepped forward, making you move back until your ass hit the edge of a workbench behind you.

“Oh, but I think it is,” he cooed, using his free hand to take off his shades and carefully tossing them to the corner of the bench. Now you could see his rust coloured eyes, vivid in their intensity as they scanned every feature of your face, your breath caught in your throat as he lowered his face towards you. You could feel his breath fanning over your face, and could smell the tobacco and whiskey he liked to indulge in. It was a heady scent, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity if you weren’t careful. “If I were a betting man, I would wager you’d want me to punish you a little for that filthy mouth of yours.”

Your mind whirred at what he meant by punishment. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of it before, when you were alone and needy for release in your quarters. Him taking you roughly from behind while you were bent over the nearest surface, smacking your ass hard while he pulled your hair for leverage. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly while he watched your eyes roll back in their sockets as he fucked you hard into his bed. You realised you’d lost a few second at all the possibilities when he was staring at you with amusement, head tilted as his eyes raked over your body. Your mouth opened, but closed quickly as the words escaped you. As per usual, he decided to fill the silence for you. “Went a little quiet there sweetheart,” he murmured mere inches from your lips. “Wondered what your filthy little mind was thinking, hm?”

This was the closest he had got when it come to rattling you, and he found it addictive. Sure, he had tried the usual routes of shameless flirting and playfully smacking your ass when you were comfortable with it, but you’d rebuffed each and every advance with a little quip of your own. But he had always seen that glint in your eye when he was flirty, how a little colour came to your cheeks that you tried to desperately hide. Truthfully, you were beginning to become something of an addiction to him that he just couldn’t quit. Didn’t want to quit.

“Maybe I wasn’t thinking of anything,” you mumbled, hating how small you sounded. It wasn’t the best comeback, but it was all you could think of.

“Sure you weren’t,” he scoffed, letting go of you for only a moment before he gripped your waist and all but threw you on top of the workbench. Your little squeal of surprise fuelled him, and the way your eyes widened with lust blown pupils at the show of strength caused his erection to strain painfully in his trousers. He slotted himself between your parted legs, hands gripping your waist as he rolled his hips against your core. Your eyelids fluttered, hands flying up to the lapel of his jacket for support. He ducked his head down so his lips grazed your own, desperate to kiss you but not wanting to cross a line you didn’t want to. “You don’t have to do this with me sweetheart,” he said, barely above a whisper. Dear God, he desperately begged to whoever was upstairs that he read the room right, and you were as desperate for him as he was for you. “If you wanna stop, no hard feelings.”

The thought of this moment ending caused a whine to catch in your throat, threatening to overspill any second. You’d fantasised of this for so long, and you were desperate to find out if it would match your expectations. You were the first to initiate, giving your consent wholly as lips crashed against his. It took him a moment for him to return it, but when he did it was overwhelming. The kiss was full of desperate frensy; all teeth and tongue, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure they would bruise. You returned it with vigour, breathing small moans into his mouth that he growled in lust whenever he received. You pushed off his jacket, and his hands were only off you long enough to let it fall to the ground. They found the straps of your overalls, pushing them off in a frantic need and letting them fall to your waist. You felt him grip the front of your shirt, and with one strong tug it was torn to shreds. You let out a breathy sigh as that fire in your stomach was fuelled by the action. You could be mad at him for fucking up what little clothes you had later. Right now, it was hot as fuck.

“Fuck, Karl,” you breathed into his skin as you kissed the junction between his neck and shoulder, feeling his grip on the waistband of your overalls as he tried to pull them off. Ever since you found out his first name, you barely used it. He was always Heisenberg, Heis, or some form of creative insult. It didn’t escape your notice that when you used his first name, his need for you somehow grew even more than it already was, became frantic to see you naked. As you toed off your boots, he took the time to pull off his shirt and tank top, leaving him topless and leaving you panting at the sight.

He was back all over you, tugging off your overalls and panties in one movement. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as you felt his fingers at your core, swiping up your slit in a movement that made your legs quiver. “So fucking wet,” he growled, diving back in for another intense kiss as his finger sunk into you. He pumped into you and tested which angle, which curl of his finger made you moan the loudest into his mouth in a way that made his cock strain at the sound of it. Another finger was added, his thumb circling around your clit in time with his movements, and your head fell back with jaw lax as your eyes rolled backwards. He dove to attack your neck with his mouth, teeth clamping down on the soft flesh as his tongue teased, adding to your pleasure. If he kept this up, you were going to lose it, the tension deep in your stomach threatening to snap. “Fuck me already,” you pleaded, an edge of feral need in your voice.

He huffed out a laugh as he felt your hands trail quickly down his chest, moving to fumble with his belts. “So fucking needy, aren’t you?” he murmured against your neck, though he found himself getting impatient too. A low growl escaped him as you finally freed his cock, wrapping your hand around it with widened eyes as you stroked it. You always wondered if he was big, but you never expected it to be like this. The length was a little above average, but he made up with it in thickness, the girth making you swipe a tongue over your lip in need. In the back of your mind, you wondered if you needed more prep, but that logical thought was blown away by feral lust. You could deal with the ache later; for now you needed him.

You pulled him towards you with your heels dug into his thighs, but he held fast, holding your chin tightly in one hand while the other gripped his dick and teased your entrance with it in a way that made you whine. “Beg me for it,” he growled, pressing lightly into you. “I wanna hear it.”

“Fuck, please, don’t you dare fucking tease me,” you snarled, pressing yourself forward as much as you could without falling off the table. When he quirked an eyebrow, you knew for a fact he’d leave you here needy when he pulled away, teasing you for as long as you could hold out for if it meant getting his way. The dam broke; fuck, you needed him, and you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth. “Karl, please, I need you,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes. “Please, fuck me.”

The grip on your chin loosened and fell away, the arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed his length into you, going as fast as he could without hurting you. Heavy panting from the both of you was the only thing that could be heard over the thrum of the factory. Your brain short-circuited from pleasure; you clung onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling, and he held on with just as much intensity. When you finally opened eyes you didn’t realise you closed, he was looking right at you, eyes flickering over your features as if he was watching everything, taping it to memory. You’d never seen him like this. Blissed out with pleasure, yet the intensity still remained. There was something else too, that you couldn’t quite place. A look of… Adoration? Maybe you were just imagining things in a lust filled haze.

You rolled your hips to urge him to move, finding that your mind had too much space to think. You ran your hand through his hair, gripping the back as you bucked against him, matching the intensity as you picked up speed. You heard a sound from somewhere, though you had no idea where it came from, and at that moment you couldn’t give less of a shit. You panted as you kissed him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth, which he devoured eagerly as he pounded into you. All the nerves in your body came alight as you reached your edge, threatening to come apart at the seams if it wasn’t for his strong grip around your waist, anchoring you to the table as objects clattered off the surface from the intensity.

Your soft staccatos of gasps, ending with an intense scream as you tightened intensely around him while you came hard caused him to fall headlong into his own release, gasping for breath as his hips stuttered from how hard he came. “Fuck, Jesus…” He ended his growled words with your name falling from his lips, his head falling to rest on your shoulder as he caught his breath. You were both left in the afterglow, both trying to get your brains into gear again from the fuzziness as you recovered. He slowly slipped out of you, his cum starting to leak onto your thighs as he tucked himself back into his trousers and looked around for a rag you could use. When you looked down, you realised that the sound you heard earlier was Karl’s hand warping and breaking the table with his harsh grip. You forced back a smile at it; at the fact you’d made him lose control with his need for you that much.

You exhaled a forceful sigh, rubbing your face with both palms as you grinned through them. Yeah, this was worth it. And it was ten times better than you thought it would be. He caught your smirk when he turned around, handing you a small piece of clean cloth as he quirked an eyebrow while picking up his clothes. “What’re you smiling about?” his asked, his tone amused. “That good, huh?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, leaning forward to snatch his tank top from him before you pulled it on and cleaned yourself up. He opened his mouth to complain, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that shut him up when he saw you wearing his clothes.

“I’m smiling because I’m assuming you think you’re getting out of getting me a new damn radio,” you answered as you found your panties, pulling them on. He laughed at that, shaking his head as he continued getting dressed, now without undershirt.

“Even fucking your brains out isn’t gonna stop you from being a brat, is it?” he drawled, picking up a cigar from the small box he kept on his desk and lighting it up as he took a few puffs.

You chuckled, stepping over on bare feet to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Absolutely fucking not, and you love it.”

He snorted, but deep down, he knew you were right. He was elated that you still treated him exactly the same, even after your passionate encounter had taken place. In fact, this was probably going to make you even mouthier. But he found himself not minding that one iota.

~

“Oh honeybun!” you heard him boom out in a singsong voice from outside your workshop door, kicking it open for effect though you knew full well he could use his powers or God forbid, use the fucking handle. You barely looked up from the welding project you were working on, waiting until you’d finished with the bond that took most of your attention.

You flipped the visor you wore upwards, looking up to focus on him with narrowed eyes of suspicion. He had something behind his back, but you couldn’t see what. To be honest, you’d got used to working in silence without music the few weeks since the ‘incident’, but you had been fucking pretty much every night since then. That was all worth it, to have him rather than a hunk of junk whose stations you didn’t even particularly like.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working on those reactor cores? I’ve been sweating my ass off getting these leg frames made.” You tried to keep the amusement from your voice, but he probably heard it enough to warrant that laugh he gave in return.

“Almost done doll, I promise. But I thought this would be something better to use my time with. Close your eyes for me.”

You looked puzzled. “Why?”

He sighed in exasperation, tilting his head back in frustration. “For fuck sa- Just trust me, alright?”

You sighed dramatically, making a show of placing your gloved hands over your eyes. You heard him shuffle around your workspace, mumbling something to himself in German like he usually did when he was concentrating. It sounded like he was doing something at your desk, though you weren’t quite sure.

“Alright, you can look now.”

When you let your vision adjust and looked towards him, he held his hand with a flourish towards something new on your desk. It took you a minute to figure out what it was. A large rectangular box, the time of day shown in the middle on a screen. It had buttons on the top of it across the edge, and a strange metal thing that looked like a charging cable sticking out of the middle. Your eyes widened as you realised what exactly you were looking at. “Holy shit,” you breathed as you ripped your welding mask off, setting it down as you joined him at his side. “Is that an iPod dock?!”

He looked a little puzzled as he shrugged. “Iunno. I found it, did some fiddling and found out it plays radio stations sorta decent.” He rubbed the back of his head as a slightly sheepish look crossed his face. “I didn’t forget, you know.”

You squealed as you threw yourself at him to hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. He chuckled, arms encircling your waist as he looked down at you when you pulled away from the kiss. “I take it I did good?”

“You did good,” you echoed, pulling away to look for something in your upper desk drawer. To be honest, you’d completely forgotten about it ages ago. You considered it a remnant of your past; of your old life, and had retired it to live anywhere other than your pockets since you started working at the factory. The old iPod nano, screen slightly smashed and green metal scuffed from your tribulations of surviving your journey into the village was nestled right at the bottom, and you held your breath as you stared at it in your hand. Would it even work? God knows what it went through, but you had to try. It’d lost it’s charge a couple of weeks into you working at the factory, and you’d slightly mourned the loss of listening to it through headphones whenever you could. But now? If this worked, you didn’t have to worry about that.

Karl looked thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was you were doing, as he usually did whenever something new technological wise caught his attention. With a little prayer to the machinery Gods, you fitted the iPod into the dock, holding your breath to see if it would power on. To your surprise (and joy), you saw the darkened screen as the apple logo popped up, and then switched to the main screen.

“What is it?” Karl asked from beside you, but at first you ignored him, looking through the song list. They were all still there. All your favourite tracks, ready to play. You decided on your favourite to listen to first, pressing play and keeping your finger on the volume up button until it filled the room with its melody.

Karl looked fascinated as he listened, his mind figuring out what was happening to the best of my abilities. “Huh. I’ll be damned,” he murmured, tilting his head as he listened to the first few beats. He watched as your hips swayed to the music, and you softly sang along to the lyrics. A grin spread across his face as he leaned against your desk. “You listened to this shit?” Though it was a jab, there was no malice behind it. Just amusement.

“You shut your mouth, this is a classic,” you answered back with a smirk, slotting yourself between his legs and looping your arms around his neck as you swayed. His hands found your waist, and he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

“So, I’m off the hook?” he asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

You nodded. How could he not be? He’d given back something you thought you’d lost, without even realising what he’d done. He’d given you this, but he’d also given you a home. He’d given you protection. And even if you didn’t know it yet, he’d given you his love and adoration.

“Yeah,” you murmured as you kissed him again.

“You’re off the hook.”

[iam93percentstardust]

Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

~

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

~

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

~

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

~

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

[sunjaesol]

because your kiss is on my list

alternatively: four times juke snuck up on each other for affection and the one time they didn’t have to | based on the achingly beautiful fanart by @lovelyrugbee

1. 

Luke was being manic again. And not in a cute: “Oh my God, he’s so passionate about music!”-way, but in a: “He might actually tear his eyes out from these infuriating lyrics that aren’t working”-way. Every once in a while, songs didn’t flow out as easily as they usually did. The topic was a bit trickier, or the instrumentals didn’t mesh, or something was just off. Julie wasn’t too stressed about it. They had plenty of time to rework and fix things before the gig in two weeks. 

Unfortunately, Luke didn’t have the same mindset. 

He has been holed up in the studio all day, cramped on the windowsill to the point of submitting himself to a hernia and scrapping writing scrapping scrapping scrapping. The sound was infuriating, Alex being the first to poof out and Reggie following soon after when Ray became far more interesting than a guitarist going haywire. Which was sad, cause her dad was just unloading groceries. 

Alright. She had to do something. Standing at the doors of studio with a somewhat amused expression, she took in as her boyfriend was oblivious to the world and her. In any other situation, he’d notice and compliment the orange dress she was wearing. She thought about calling his name, maybe singing or jamming her fingers on the piano, but then a better idea came. A fun one.

Quietly slipping closer, a mischievous grin crawled on her lips. Thank God she was barefoot, or else her sneakers would’ve squeaked against the cement floors. He still hasn’t noticed her, the pinch between his brow so deep and lost in thought. 

Three, two, one... 

“Ah!”, she cried out like a warrior, snapping her arms around him from behind and snatching the damned songbook from his grasp. Before he could react, she smacked a wet kiss on his cheek and added a “Mwah!” for good measure. 

The startled Luke began chuckling, trying to get his book back, her peppering more kisses on his cheek in retaliation. He had to get out of this funk! Breathe a little! Turning his cheek to look at her, he smirked. “Sneaking kisses now, Jules?”

Julie hummed against his skin, eyes sparkling. Whispering in his ear, she said: “Stop breaking your head over these lyrics and relax. We have time.” 

His smile softened, gaze tracking the way she hugged him and then- “I like the dress you’re wearing.”

Ah, yes. There he was. 

2. 

Julie Molina truly made the afterlife less boring and a whole lot more bearable. Which became really apparent whenever she had an avalanche of homework and couldn’t hang out. Luke loved his boys, but damn did he miss his girlfriend a lot now. If the situation were different (you know, had he not been head over heels in love with her), he’d poof up to her room and annoy her until she came to the studio. Alas, he respected his girlfriend and her interest in getting good grades, so he had to deal with it. 

Bleh. “Dealing with it” was like a curse word to him. 

He hasn’t seen her all day though. She left early for school and didn’t pass by the studio when she got back. All he needed was a quick look and talk and maybe a hug and then he wouldn’t be so antsy. 

(What he’d give to wrestle her into cuddling right now. He was honestly blessed he found a girl who saw all of his need for affection and then gladly gave triple the amount.)

Yup. Screw homework. He had to see her. Without telling the boys, he stood up with a huff and poofed out. The offended “hey!” from Alex he ignored. 

Dropping into Julie’s room, a smile instantly bloomed on his face at the sight of her. She was on her bed, textbooks and notes splayed out in front of her while her curls danced with each breath she took. Even when tired, his girlfriend was pretty as hell. 

“Hey,” he grinned.

She didn’t look up and mumbled: “Hey.” A page turned. “What’re you doing here?”

Luke sat down on the edge of her bed, far enough so her pens wouldn’t roll away. “Haven’t seen you today. I missed you.”

This time she did look up, her weary eyes softening and smiling. “I missed you too. I have homework though, so...” The implication was there: please leave so I can finish. His hope for a hug quickly dwindled.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not ready to go back and get slapped by Alex. “Uh...” His eyes fell on her right hand, slightly more outstretched then the other. It just... laid there. Teasing him. Freaking tantalising him when he knew how good it felt whenever those fingers brushed his cheeks or raked his hair. 

It happened before he thought about it. Crawling onto the mattress, he snatched her hand and pressed soft kisses on the knuckles. Julie caught his gaze again, that smile he loved so much melting into an adoring puff - like she couldn’t believe this idiot was her boyfriend.

He didn’t mind being her idiot.  

3.

Sometimes, Julie was just that more adorable. Like now, with her hair spread around her shoulders and that small smile stuck on her lips and her eyes that seemed impossibly soft today. All for him, only for him. 

Sure, it was probably because they were working on one of their personal songs, but the fact remained that his girlfriend still left him rendered speechless months into dating.

“What if we try it in a lower key?”, Julie proposed, nodding at his guitar. 

The song in question was a song about them. It wasn’t so lovey-dovey that it would turn the guys off, but it was still blatant. Only they would write about ‘the sea glass green of his eyes’ and ‘the smile that put Mona Lisa to shame’. 

He did what she asked, her singing the same verse again. It held more depth now, soulful and lively. The rasp in her tone made it playful and egged him on to join, like it was truly banter between lovers put to music. It was them. It was her. It was-

Luke abruptly stopped playing, pushed his guitar aside and grabbed onto her. She hardly had time to chuckle as he pressed his lips onto her forehead and held her as tight as possible. Warmth filled his chest, that strange sensation of being loved and loving back twice as hard, as she clutched his body. He almost got choked up. Here he was, in the sundrenched studio with the girl he adored playing the music they created together and she was singing it in such a quintessentially ‘them’ way. No one but them would ever truly understand the magic they conjured. How it was only explained through grins melting on skin and the giddy skip in his heartbeat. 

“What’s that for?”, she smiled. 

His hand trailed from her back to her cheeks with an elated shrug. How could he explain to her her ‘Julie-ness’ was dialled up to two hundred without sounding insane? Caressing the skin, he murmured instead: “I guess you’re just irresistible today.”   

Her eyes squeezed shut at his words, like she was embarrassed how much delight it brought her, and pressed her face back in his shoulder. 

Letting that giddy skip in his chest kiss her again, he gently pulled away to sent her a wink. “Let’s finish ‘Wicked Love’, yeah?”

4.

“So, Flynn’s been thinking-”

“Mh-hm.”

“-about a new poster for the gig we’re playing. The old one is a little amateur and she made some new concepts. Wanna see?” Julie held her phone at his face, his hand leaving the strings of his guitar to gently push it back. Falling back on the bed, she frowned. 

“Maybe later, I’m figuring out this progression...” His back bend over his guitar again, only giving her a view of the black muscle tee. 

When Luke told her he wanted to hang out that Saturday afternoon, she had hoped it would be a bit more ‘Julie and Luke’ and not ‘Luke and His Guitar’ - alas, the girlfriend was competing with a piece of wood and some metal. While texting Flynn about graphic design was fun, it was time for Luke to start doing what he promised her.

Then again, she was a sucker for music talk. “Why don’t you try switching up the chords? Start with G instead of C.”

He tried it out, a grin crawling on his cheeks. “Yeah... yeah, that works. Thanks, Jules.”

“So?”, she sang. 

“Hm?”

With a sigh, she grabbed onto the strap of his guitar and gave it a tug. Luke’s neck rolled backwards in surprise, catching her playful smile.  

Chastely pecking his forehead, she said: “Your head is in the clouds.”

The teasing look of his matched hers. “You’re kissing my head right now.”

“Mh-hm,” she mumbled, loving the way his hair had that perpetual scent of apple and something inherently Luke. Kissing the locks, she added: “And you’ll be getting a lot more if you actually start hanging out with me.”

His book and instrument slid off his body just like that as he speared her into hug. Luke collapsed onto her body with the cutest grin and she knew she caught him. Their laughs chimed throughout the house for the rest of the day. 

+5.

Luke poofed onto her bed with a grin, his girlfriend automatically snuggling into his side and finding each other’s lips with ease. For a beat, they’re cherished the quiet passion shared between them. They didn’t need to do a lot to feel loved by the other. 

He pressed his nose into her curls. “How was school?”

“Good,” Julie whispered against his neck. “How was the studio?”

“Chill. Reggie scared a spider.”

She giggled, the sound making his grin widen and hide his face so she wouldn’t see how ridiculously giddy she made him. Turning her head so she’d see him anyway, her nose scrunched. “I know you’re smiling.”

“That’s my line, Molina,” he huffed, the teasing glint shimmering in his eyes. 

A signature brow quirked. “You got that on paper?”

He didn’t miss a second. “I love you.” He didn’t need to ponder or linger or rewrite or scrap or workshop the thought. It wasn’t even a thought. It was a truth and he’d repeat that truth over and over again until the universe knew it too and kept it in their books for centuries to come. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. 

The smile that came was worth the truth, how her love for him broke through without a moment of hesitation. Now she’d say the same, over and over and over again, so the universe knew they were talking about each other and would always keep their names together in said books. 

Julie kissed him again, long and sweet and as easy as breathing. Her utters were barely audible, but his heart caught it. “I love you too.”

Locked in their embrace, they shared earphones listening to their favourite music until they fell asleep. (How Luke could fall asleep, but only when in her loving touch, he wouldn’t question. Some oddities of the universe were best unsaid.) 

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @bluefirewrites @willexx @ourstarscollided @alexjulies

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 24: Slip of the Hand

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, stitching/medical instruments, knives, sickness, light body horror

Summary: Juniper picks up an old hobby while Heisenberg makes a big mistake while working on a long-standing one.

Feedback appreciated, 18+. Sorry it’s slower everyone I’ll start posting a bit quicker next month

Juniper sat on the balcony, the sunshine warming her enough to be comfortable. In the recent weeks she and Heisenberg went back to damn near normal, or as normal as their life had ever been given the circumstances. She was fully healed and feeling bright and chipper.

Heisenberg even started to call her newer nicknames more often: like wifey, love and his Mrs.

Juniper got back into making sketches. She was very rusty and most pictures looked little more than doodles but it brought her joy. Heisenberg even found her a whole stack of empty notebooks.

She was using one of them, drawing a sketch of a raven. The bird of interest was sitting on the balcony ledge, watching her with bright eyes.

It cocked its feathered head, making curious gurgles as she looked between it and the paper.

“You are such a pretty bird.” Juniper complimented, earring a throaty little trill in return.

Juniper’s pencil scratched against the paper, “Just like that.” She cooed, “You’re being such a good bird.”

She concentrated on the drawing for a short while longer, looking up at her muse. Eventually she was happy with the finished product, shading in the feathers with the pencil.

She turned the notebook around, showing her work to her subject. “Do you like it?” She asks, holding it before the Raven.

The bird gave a little hop, almost in surprise, leaning in a bit to look over the portrait. It gave a throaty croak of approval, ruffling its feathers.

Juniper giggled, “Thank you!” She turned to look at it again, happy with her work. She closed the sketchbook, standing and stretching a bit.

“You were radiant.” She complimented the bird, reaching out a hand slowly towards it. The raven allowed her to give it a soft stroke down its onyx feathers, closing its eyes in contentment.

Juniper said her goodbyes to the bird, collecting her supplies and heading back into the factory.

The raven sat for a long moment, watching the closed metal door before hoping off into the air. It gave a few strong wing beats before it disintegrated into a moldy cloud, done with its tasks.

Unaware of anything amiss Juniper put everything away, tiring her hair up in preparation to find Heisenberg. She knew he was finishing up a Soldat, so wanted to give a hand if needed.

~

The smell of blood and oil stung Juniper’s nose as she neared the lower workshop. As she opened the door the smell grew so strong it almost fogged her senses for a moment.

Her stomach clenched, taking over the scene.

The most recent soldat was on the floor, head crushed into a bloody pulp. Dark liquid oozed out of it, mixing with the iridescent swirling of oil and the bright crimson of fresh blood.

Fresh blood?

Juniper’s eyes widened, seeing blood drip from one of the creature’s many drills. Her eyes followed the splatters until they found the source.

Heisenberg sat in a chair, eyes dilated and chest heaving in short strained breaths. His arm rested over the nearest desk. A deep gash ran the length of his forearm, alabaster peeked through the flesh of the bone within.

The wound welled blood across the table, staining papers and dripping onto the floor. Juniper saw medical supplies haphazardly around his vicinity, where he attempted to mend himself before the shock set in.

She rushed over to him, touching his face, trying to keep panic from overtaking her.

“Heis..honey can you hear me?” She asked, “You need to breathe.”

His eyes flicked over her face, jaw tight as he huffed out of his nose. She saw blood pulse from the wound as his muscles twitched.

Scrambling to get clean gauze she soaked it in healing fluid before pressing it over the wound.

Heisenberg took a sharp intake of air, pain rippling through him.

“Hold this.” Juniper took his free hand in her own, guiding him to press the gauze over the worst of the wound.

He complied, still looking forward, almost unseeing.

She looked around the mess, not seeing what she needed. Rushing to one of the supply cabinets she found thread and a medical needle. She’d only done things like this on dead bodies, never being taught the intricacies of mending living flesh.

Juniper hoped that her lack of skill would be enough for his healing abilities to take over.

Returning to him, the pressure he’d placed on the wound slowed the bleeding slightly.

“Still with me?” She asked, moving his hand away to clean the wound.

She saw his pale eyes shift to look at her for a brief moment before returning to their ordinal position.

“This is going to hurt.” She warned, threading the needle. She tried to pull the ragged flesh back together the best she could, sinking the needle in to make the first stitch.

He groaned, moving a bit. Juniper angled herself to hold him still as she worked. With shaking hands, she kept stitching up his arm, it becoming more difficult as she neared the worst of the wound.

“B-Butter…cup?” Heisenberg’s voice wavered, shifting a bit.

“Stay still.” Her tone was warning, “I’m trying to fix you up.”

She was able to close the wound, frowning at the divot left in his arm from the loss of muscle in the area.

Juniper cleaned the area more thoroughly, dabbing more healing salve over it.

The stinging sensation sobered Heisenberg’s mind ever so slightly.

“Breathe.” Juniper instructed, finding clean gauze. When she began to wrap his arm he was able to speak a bit to her.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Ba-bastard woke up…” he managed, “…too fast, di-didn’t real-ize…”

“It’s alright.” Juniper soothed, taping down the end of the wrapping, “Can you walk.”

Heisenberg swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Juniper stood, helping him to his feet. He swayed heavily, leaning on her. She grunted, getting his arm around her shoulder for support. It was hard getting to the elevator, his feet like concrete. But she was finally able to get him back to the apartment, sitting him on the bed as she took off his necklaces and boots. His glazed eyes watched her wordlessly.

She helped him lay back, covering him up so he could come down from the shock. His good hand clutched the wrappings of his opposite arm.

Juniper sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to smooth hair from his face.

~

Heisenberg woke up in the bed, it was dark and his arm ached terribly. His memory was hazy at best, the soldat scraping his bone was the last clear thought. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d endured, but he honestly expected to wake up on the shop floor like so many times in the past.

His hand found his injured arm, fingers tracing gauze.

How the fuck had he managed that?

He tried to sit up, a painful spike jolting through his head. His mouth felt dry and a migraine was threatening him.

“Fuck.” He cursed, falling back onto the bed.

Soft hands found his face, and under the blanket of pain he didn’t realize their owner right away.

“Karl?” Came a sweet voice.

“I’m…f-fine.” He answered, blinking up into glowing green eyes. He winced as another ripple of pain wracked his brain.

“You’re a lying bastard.” Juniper’s lips pursed.

He tried to give a tight chuckle, “Tell me something I don’t know sweetheart.”

He felt her leave the bed, his mind clearing slightly.

Her finger lightly tapped him, rousing him to look. She offered him a glass of water.

“You’re dehydrated.” She said matter-of-factly.

He sat up enough to take the glass, downing it thankfully.

The liquid helped, allowing him the small mercy of thought. “Did you?” He gestured to his arm.

“Mhm.”

“Damn…thank you.”

“I cleaned a lot of the blood, but I couldn’t do much about the soldat.”

“That’s fine, I’ll toss him to the Lycans.” He shrugged. He sat up more as she settled on the bed near him. She made a sound as he ripped the gauze away from his arm. He looked over the rough stitching, “Well it’s together.”

He lifted his hand, one of the kitchen knives whizzing through the air, one of the lights flicking on.

“Hey!” Juniper’s stomach clenched when she saw him angle the tip of the knife into the stitching, “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, snapping the stitching, pulling them out with small winces. After he was done he showed her his arm. She made a small mummer of surprise.

The gash was now bright pink, in the earliest stages of scaring. It would be a bit more ragged than most of his but it was definitely healing over.

“Already?” She almost gasped, reaching out to delicately touch the new tissue.

“Ain’t my first rodeo, buttercup.” He gave her a toothy smile, “And ain’t my worse fuck up.”

“I didn’t think it would be so fast.” She admitted, meeting his eyes again.

He set the knife on the side table, “It usually is as long as it’s not too extensive. If you help it along with what you did, for example, even bad shit can heal within a day or two.”

“Like can you regrow limbs?”

“I’m not a fucking lizard!”

“If you still had the limb?”

“If you're fast enough, and get it back together right, it would probably heal.” He frowned, “I’d rather not test it….my intestines hitting the floor was the worst I’d like to deal with.”

Juniper’s eyes were the size of saucers, making Heisenberg bark with laughter.

“It was a long time ago, don’t worry about it.” He shrugged again.

“Don’t worry about it??”

“I was younger and thought my cock was big enough that I didn’t need to be careful.” He smiled, “I learned my lesson….mostly.”

“Hmmm.” She frowned.

Heisenberg eased back into the bed, his muscles still aching. He’d lost too much time with the current soldat now being a wash. Juniper watched him, knowing that look of determination that spread across his feathers.

She clung onto him.

“Rest for a bit longer.” She nuzzled into him, “You’re still healing.”

He snorted, “I don’t need rest for healing.”

“Please stay.”

“I’m behind schedule already, kitten…”

“Just a few more hours?” She begged.

He gave a deep sigh, feeling the tug of the warm bed and Juniper’s even warmer snuggles. “Just a few hours.” He pressed.

Juniper wiggled with victory, cuddling deeper into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, smiling when he felt her relax into the contact.

They settled into a much more restful sleep.

Something felt wrong the moment she woke up that morning. Heisenberg had long since gotten to work, he had to trash the old soldat and start prepping the next. But him being gone was not unusual.

Juniper went about the beginning of her day normally, trying to ignore the churning in her gut. The feeling worsened as she descended the elevator, the heat making her head swim.

As she came through the door to the workshop, the smell of organs and old blood hit her nose. It was a smell she was long since accustomed to. At least she thought she was.

Her stomach suddenly clenched and before she could react she curled forward, vomiting onto the shop floor.

Heisenberg looked up with alarm, dropping the liver back into the cadaver’s abdominal cavity.

“Shit, are you ok doll?” He asked suddenly, ripping off his soiled gloves.

Juniper’s head pounded as her body shivered with another round of vomit. Saliva dripped down her chin as she looked shakily up at Heisenberg, tears burning her eyes.

He helped her into a chair, handing her a bucket.

“What’s going on?” He questioned worriedly, putting a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t hot, no fever.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, holding the bucket to her chest, “I felt queasy when I woke up.”

“Hmm.” He frowned, “It’s probably the cadou.”

Juniper remembered the night she stayed by Heisenberg’s side when he was sick.

“What do I do?” She asked, feeling another bout of nausea wash over her.

“Wait it out.” He said frankly.

She gave him a narrow look before retching again.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly until she was able to speak again.

“Let’s get you back upstairs.” He helped her stand.

Once she was back in the apartment, Heisenberg got her a fresh bucket and a glass of water. “You take it easy ok.” He pointed to the bed. Before she could protest he placed a walkie talkie on the bedside table, “If you need anything just call.”

The rest of the day she focused on staying hydrated, the feeling washing back away like the tides of the sea. It never quite left her, however, not being a brief bout like Heisenberg was accustomed too.

It was all very puzzling to Juniper…

[wanderingsoul6261]

Curtain Call (Jacob Frye x Maxwell Roth)

Author’s note: This is a oneshot between Jacob Frye and Maxwell Roth from Assassin Creed Syndicate. This game is al around an amazing one and I absolutely loved the story. Honestly, I don’t normally ship characters of the same sex (I don’t hate same sex couples. In fact, a lot of fanart I see of these types of couples are wonderful and really adorable.) But something about these two just really fucking intrigue me. 

P.S- I hope nothing I said above offends anyone. I just have a hard time finding the correct words for certain topics without causing offense. If I had said something that offends anyone, please let me know and I will fix it. 

Warnings: Character death-angst

additional information: this oneshot does feature my own Assassin Creed Oc, Ava Layton, an Assassin from the American Brotherhood that has befriended the Frye twins after they came to help her and Green stop the Templar regime. 

DISCLAIMER:This probably isn’t the best writing. But being a college student, I kind of rushed it a bit and I don’t have to time to go back to edit it, so please bare with me on this one. Another oneshot with Starrick and reader should be coming soon, so If you are interested, be on the lookout for that as well. 

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Darling, darling, oh, turn the lights back on now Watching, watching, as the credits all roll down Crying, crying, you know we're playing to a full house, house

Jacob stood in silence on top of a building in The Strand Borough. He clenched his jaw as he stared down at the theater before him. He was inside, Jacob knew that part very much. Sometime inside of him told him to walk away. Forget the mission that he had set himself to do and let the man inside of that theater live to see another day. Maybe he would convince Evie to do it instead. 

Jacob closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. No. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. This was Jacob’s mess and he had to fix it himself.  As much as he was felt something for Maxwell Roth, his enemy and someone he didn’t think was possible to catch feelings for, he had to end it. He opened his eyes and looked at the female cloaked figure next to him, crouching as he assumed she looked for a way in. Jacob had asked her to help him infiltrate the theater without too much hassle and she was there on Jacob’s last mission and interaction with Roth. 

Jacob watched as Roth was about to order his men to blow the house to smithereens, just as Ava pointed out the children walking towards the workshop. He had immediately turned on Roth. 

“Wait!” He held his arm out towards Roth, who looked back at him in slight confusion. 

“What in heavens for?” 

“There are Children in there.” Jacob pointed down at them, as Ava readied in case they needed to jump into action to save them. It was something the two friends were adamant about. Keeping the kids of London safe and out of harm’s way, and this moment was no exception. Roth chuckled and shook his head, advancing towards Jacob. 

“Jacob, my dear.” he started. “Starrick uses child labor to manufacture goods. We must put an end to his production line.” 

“Yea but not like this!” Jacob argued softly. 

“Why not?” Roth argued, his voice raising slightly as he argued with the man before him. “I can do whatever I damn well please. Soon you will understand what it is to be free, as I am.” Roth walked over to the ledge and shouted down to the Blighters below them on the ground level. “Light’ em up boys!” 

Jacob ran past him, screaming “NO!” as he jumped over the ledge, tackling the larger man of the two and slicing his throat. He turned and looked up at Roth. 

“What the hell are you doing!” Roth shouted down to him, as Ava finally scaled the side of the building and down and meet with Jacob. Jealousy seemed to flash in Roth’s eye as he watched the female stand behind Jacob, who obviously agreeing with Jacob as well. 

“We’re not playing games anymore Roth!” Jacob shouted up to him. Jacob nudged Ava and the two burst into a sprint towards the workshop. 

“Jacob, we have to save those children before he does something.” Ava cried out, feeling anxious as she worried for the state of the children. On most days, she cared about the children more then she did herself. 

“Working on it Ava.” He answered back quickly, just as Roth blew up the dynamite himself.

No heroes, villains, one to blame While wilted roses filled the stage And the thrill, the thrill is gone Our debut was a masterpiece But in the end for you and me Oh, the show, it can't go on

“Jacob.” The young assassin was pulled from the flashback by his female companion. Ava had pulled her hood down, looking up at him. “Are you okay?” she asked. Jacob stared blankly at her, wondering the same thing. His eyes darted back towards the theater, but he knew the truth. He didn’t have to say anything for her to know what he was thinking about. Ava was good that way. 

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Jacob mumbled as he scaled down the side of the building. Ava watched as he did so, her heart breaking for him. He had been betrayed by someone he obviously cared deeply for. She leaped down, meeting him on ground several moments later, the two walking towards the theater. 

We used to have it all, but now's our curtain call So hold for the applause, oh And wave out to the crowd, and take our final bow Oh, it's our time to go, but at least we stole the show Least we stole the show Least we stole the show Least we stole the show Least we stole the show

It didn’t long for the two to make their way inside. Ava had went got them masquerade masks so that they could gain easy entrance without causing a ruckus and alarming their target inside. 

“Are you sure you want me here to help you?” Ava asked as they finally got entrance, looking up her friend. He stared blankly ahead over the balcony and at the stage. She searched his face for anything that might tell her that he didn’t want her here. That he wanted to do this by himself. Jacob finally let out a sigh, his eyes falling to the floor before finding her own behind the mask she too wore. 

“I want you here...” he trailed off, looking away from her before he continued, swallowing thickly once more. “In case I can’t follow through with the mission. You don’t have an emotional attachment to Roth. It would be easier for you. He needs to go.” He explained softly so that any surrounding guests or Roth’s men didn’t overhear him. Ava nodded in understanding. 

“I understand.” Ava said softly. “Are you ready?” Jacob let out a deep exhale. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” 

Least we stole the show Darling, darling, you know that we are sold out This is fading, but the band plays on now We're crying, crying, so let the velvet roll down, down

At this point in the mission, the two have successfully taken out the doubles that looked like Maxwell. The two now stood on separate side in the rafters back stage, watching as Roth advanced out onto the stage. Two Blighters had torch like sticks that when they blew on them, the fire expanded and lit the curtains of the theater stage on fire. 

“You’re move, Jacob, My dear!” Roth laughed as he watched the guests watching the performance scatter and run towards the entrances as the theater continued to catch ablaze. 

Ava glanced across the backstage area at Jacob, who watched Roth with sadness and what appeared to be longing. 

“If only.” Jacob said softly. 

“Burn!Burn! Burn!” Roth exclaimed loud enough for the two assassins to hear over the crackling of flames. Jacob finally looked over at Ava, giving her the signal. She nodded in understanding, leaping down and darting towards the two blighters that surrounded Roth. 

“Ava, my darling! I expected to see Jacob.” Ava glared at Roth, her eyes flickering briefly to the figure walking through the smoke behind him as she assassinated one blighter, throwing a knife at the other. 

Jacob watched as Ava darted across to the other side of the stage, taking down the last Blighter as he advanced on Roth. Thoughts invaded his mind again about how things could have been different had it not been for Roth’s morals. Jacob never had watched those kids die. He wouldn’t have been to live with himself. all this time he was seeking validation from someone after his father and the moment he finds the one he hoped could give it to him and reciprocated his romantical feelings, they turn around and betray him. Jacob closed his eyes, hearing the metal swishing as the hidden blade in gauntlet came to life, before plunging it into Roth’s back. 

No heroes, villains, one to blame While wilted roses fill the stage And the thrill, the thrill is gone Our debut was a masterpiece Our lines we read so perfectly But the show, it can't go on

“Why did you do it? All of it?” Jacob had asked, as he now cradled Roth’s body to his own, the two sitting on the stage as the fire burned around them. At this point in time, Ava could not be found and apart of Jacob feared the worse for his friend. Roth only looked up at Jacob, a hand coming to Jacob’s cheek. Jacob found himself leaning closer to Roth’s hand, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. 

“For the same reason I do anything.” Roth answered, before he pulled Jacob closer to him, capturing Jacob’s lips in a kiss. The young assassin was caught off guard at first, being overwhelmed by shock. But as the seconds flew by, he found himself kissing the Templar below him back with passion. Then Roth’s hand fell from his cheek and his body went limp in his arms. Tears pricked the corner of Jacob’s eyes as he sat there, his lips quivering before he was interrupted. 

“Jacob!” Ava scream cut through the air as the man looked up frantically for his friend. He bid one last heartfelt good bye to the man he was once loved below him, before moving to where he heard. She cried for him again, sounding from the second story, and in pain. 

He found her near the entrance, underneath a beam of wood that had fallen. Jacob hurried and helped her out from underneath, pushing her out the front door as the rest of the theater continued to collapse. The two friends flew into coughing fits, hacking up their lungs because of the smoke they inhaled and fighting for their breaths back. 

“Are you okay?” Ava finally broke the silence as she looked at Jacob. Jacob went silent, apart from their continued coughing as their breathing slowly went back to normal and they cleared their lungs of smoke. Was Jacob okay? Of course he wasn’t. His thoughts went back to the kiss he shared with Roth before the older man passed. 

After several moments, he looked back at Ava, who’s face and hands were covered with soot and held her midsection, obviously still in pain, waiting for an answer from him. 

“I should be asking you that. You look horrible.” He answered, not wanting to talk about it, and he knew Ava wasn’t going to push for an answer from him. 

“A warm bath sounds good right now.” Ava said and Jacob agreed with her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to prop herself up against him. She winced in pain at the littlest movement, wondering if she broke or bruised her ribs as they walked. 

However, before the theater was out of sight, Jacob looked back one last time, which definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Ava. His heart hurt just as much as her ribs did, but he knew that all of this was for the better. Roth wasn’t going to change and he was only in the way of getting to Starrick. However, no matter how many times Jacob told himself that, it all still hurt him just a little bit more. 

We used to have it all, but now's our curtain call So hold for the applause, oh And wave out to the crowd, and take our final bow Oh, it's our time to go, but at least we stole the show Least we stole the show Least we stole the show Least we stole the show Stole the show Least we stole the show Stole the show Least we stole the show

[summonerscenarios]

Hello I was wondering if it would be okay if you can write headcanons on how Hephaestus, Kurogane, and Takemaru would react to body swapping with reader and since they're all hard muscle how would they feel about having a soft chubby body. Sorry if this is a weird ask I just think this fanfic trope is funny. By the way I want to say that like your work. You have such a way with words it's actually really impressive on how you can capture a scene. I hope I can be that good! 😊

sdfgghgfd time for some fun shenanigans to spice things up lmao. Thank you so much for the kind words! it really means a lot to know that I do an okay job with these lil ideas that you all take the time to come up with~! And I’ve got all the faith in you hun, I hope your writing endeavors go well~!

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Hephaestus

Hephaestus’ reaction to swapping bodies with you is probably what any child’s reaction would be to getting tossed into their parents body. Pure panic. He’s suddenly incredibly conscious of everything that’s going on as soon as he wakes up, and once he catches sight of ‘his’ hands, the realization that he is in fact not in his body hits him like a freight train. His shout of surprise is what jolts you awake as well, and at the sight of Heph’s own body standing up and looking around about as confused as he is, he just about wants to faint right there and then.

You’re perplexed about the sudden change of events, more surprised than anything about how strong this different body feels. Heph’s incredibly muscular, you can feel as much in his arms never mind the rest of his body, but with how meek and reserved he can be sometimes it’s easy to forget, so being in his body now is a reminder of just how tempered his body is. The first words out of your mouth are about how cool this is, as your hands squeeze your arms and pat down your new chest, thoroughly entertained by the hard muscle that you’re greeted with as you survey all the little details that come with Hephaestus’ body. You don’t think poor Heph could make your bodys face look any redder than it already is as he tries in vain to silence the praises, stammering over his words each time you voice out another detail about his body that you’d never noticed before.

One of the first actions that Hephaestus takes once things have calmed down (and he’s got you to stop messing around), is instructing Talos to take care of you and stay by your side the whole time that you’ve swapped bodies. However, that order soon becomes conflicting once he realizes that while you may be in his body, he’s in yours, so he’s either asking Talos to choose whether to watch over your body or your consciousness when both need protecting. The solution is an easy one however - so long as the two of you stick together Talos can take care of both, right?

If he had his way, Heph’s more than happy to hole the three of you in his workshop away from everyone else until you’re able to switch back into the correct bodies. You, on the other hand, are already halfway out of the door and striding up the stairs eager to test out some of the things you can do in this body. The flames take some getting used to - you’ve figured out that they flare up and ease down in response to your emotions, so with how excitable you are as you dip from room to room, you two end up with more than a few close calls with the fire as he chases behind you.

The Crafters, needless to say, get quite a shock at how lively ‘Heph’ seems to be as they spot the commotion. You don’t think to tell them what’s happened, instead excitedly greeting them with pats to the back and shoulder squeezes as you go, leaving them all slack jawed and trying to wrap their heads over what’s just happened. Thankfully, Talos at least lets them know what’s happened, as Hephaestus is too preoccupied trying to convince you to slow down (and failing miserably while he’s at it because you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try and test these muscles out).

Kurogane

All things considered, Kurogane takes the whole body swap issue in stride - it’s actually kind of amusing just how readily he accepts that this has actually happened once he comes to and realizes that he’s looking at his own body through your eyes. Maybe it’s because of how chill he is about it that you don’t find yourself panicking either, at least not at first; however the panic does set in a little later once you realize that you don’t have much of an idea about how you’re even going to switch back with him. That worry gets put on the backburner for now, namely because you’re quickly swept up in Kurogane’s excitement over the current predicament - if you have to wait to fix this, then what’s the harm in testing out everything that swapping bodies entails!

The first thing on either of your agendas is figuring out exactly how much of you swapped with one another - is it just physical appearances? Or did your powers swap over too? Your rule and role? Can you summon your sacred artifact while in his body and vice versa? Can you still feel everything from your original body? It becomes a rather entertaining science project, one that all too quickly devolves from a serious question to fun tests that get progressively sillier whenever one of you comes up with a new one. 

The other Crafters are confused seeing the pair of you running around together, but that’s only because in your rush, neither you nor Kurogane filled them in on the fact that you had swapped bodies. The ensuing conversations as each of the Crafters come to the realization that something’s amiss is a mixed barrel of reactions. Some of them take it in stride (Amatsumara); others have got more than few questions about what the hell you two got into this time (Takemaru and Tvastar); and others give none-too subtle warnings for Kurogane to take absolute care of your body while he’s in it to make sure you’re safe(Heph). 

Just because the pair of you have swapped bodies doesn’t mean Kurogane gets out of his usual tasks - you find that out when Amatsumara’s clapping a hand onto ‘your’ shoulder and steering you off to join in on his and Kurogane’s training. On the bright side, being in Kurogane’s body, you’re able to keep up a lot better than you thought you would. Bad side? In your body, Kurogane fares a lot worse than you do. It turns out his endurance didn’t cross over into your body, and by the time the two of you are about halfway through he’s leaning on the nearest solid surface, panting up a storm and nearly keeled over trying to catch his breath. You try not to laugh at how his overeagerness got the best of him, gently patting ‘his’ back as you assure him that, hey, at least he knows what your body’s limits are now!

Kurogane really doesn’t mind swapping bodies with you, though the loss of muscles does prove to have a couple setbacks, more than he anticipated - but he’s nothing if not adaptable! And it’s actually rather fun for him to find workarounds to some of his usual solutions for things! Plus it makes him think outside of the box, which to Kurogane is always important. You’ve got similar feelings about everything going on; once the initial shock wears off, having all of the extra muscle proves to be way more fun than you’d thought it would be. The only real thing that you have to be mindful of when it comes to Kurogane’s body is his arm - you can still feel everything through it, but at the same time you can distinctly recognize that it feels different. Fortunately, any time the limb needs maintenance Kurogane’s nearby to take care of it; watching him leaning over his arm, tinkering away with expert skill even in the new body, gives you a new kind of respect for just how much work goes into all the details that go into his craft.

Takemaru

Switching bodies with Takemaru was definitely an experience. For one, there wasn’t any kind of grand flare about it - no blaring noise or warning signal to let you know that something was going to happen. Instead, it was just a sudden flash of light, and in the next second you were coming back to a body that most definitely wasn’t your own. You’d taken a couple seconds to look yourself over, feeling ‘your’ face and running your hands through your hair only to be greeted by horns - if it wasn’t the body that gave it away, the horns definitely confirmed that this was Takemaru’s body. You hear Takemaru shout in surprise when he comes to too, and you don’t know what’s weirder - hearing your own voice, or watching as your own body stood up in front of you, looking up at you with a dawning horror that suggested Tak’s far less used to these kinds of situations than you are.

Takemaru’s absolutely baffled, even more so by how relaxed you’re taking all of this in - the carefree smile and relaxed demeanor coming from his own body makes the whole thing even more bizarre, and for a hot second he has to just stand there and let his brain catch up on everything that’s happening. He paces the room, rubbing circles into ‘his’ temples to alleviate the headache that he can feel coming on just trying to wrap his head around what was going on. Occasionally he looks over at you, as though to make sure that you are in fact in his body and this isn’t just some wild dream that’s gotten out of hand, and when he sees you waving nonchalantly back at him each time, you can practically see the cogs in his head overworking all over again.

Being in a body of pure muscle is, in all honesty, an entertaining change. The physique definitely takes some getting used to, but to top it all off you had a lot of Takemaru’s physical powers as well, namely the pure strength that he’s got both from being an oni and from years of hard manual labor that comes with being a carpenter. You’re living for this honestly, and you’re eager to test out all of the cool things you can do while you can. Carrying increasingly heavy objects, seeing if Tak’s carpentry skill carries over (he’s got the memory in his fingertips, but you’ve found that it, unfortunately, doesn’t carry over) are just a few of the things that you try. The horns are the only real problem you have - with the shape of them, it’s easy to forget about them until you’re squeezing through a narrow gap or ducking under something, only to get yanked back because they’ve gotten snagged on something. (It’s like getting your sleeve or earphones caught on a door handle, except having your head tugged back over and over again gets really damn annoying after a while.)

With Takemaru on the other hand, it’s a learning curve that takes a little getting used to. Your physique is still strong and you’ve got more than a bit of energy that makes him wonder if this is why you’re so energetic, but even with your abilities and strengths you’ve still got human limits, and he feels like your body is a lot more fragile than his is now that he’s actually living in it. The softness though is what really catches his attention while you’ve switched bodies - when he brings a hand up to ‘his’ cheeks, the skin beneath his fingers is soft to the touch and it’s...a surprisingly nice change. The lack of solid muscle on your body compared to his own makes him acutely aware of just how soft and squishy humans can be, and he admittedly gets caught up in feeling this new body that Tak doesn’t quite realize exactly whose body he’s touching. 

At least not until he hears you clear your throat and stick him with a pointed look, brow raised as you watch the realization dawn on his expression - you have to admit it’s funny watching your own face turning beet red as Tak practically chokes trying to explain that he wasn’t up to anything - he was just curious, he swears! Needless to say, you get a significantly bigger kick out of the body swap than Takemaru does, and he’s more than a little relieved once the two of you are actually able to switch back into the right bodies.

[anarchyduck]

Peas in a Pod

Day 20 Alt Prompt: De-Aged 

(posted it on AO3 yesterday, forgot to post it here oops) AO3

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

“So let me get this straight,” - Tony massages his temple in effort to soothe his growing headache - “There was a wizard.”

“Yeah,” Ned nods. “And he was shooting off fireballs, like real fireballs, and it was awesome and kinda scary and-”

“Ned. Ned. Find the shortcut to the point. Because nothing explains” - Tony gestures towards the couch - “that.” 

Ned blushes with embarrassment and nods . “Right! Sorry, sir. So, uhm, Pete was fighting the wizard guy and he was doing really good! Was totally kicking his ass! And then the wizard like, shot him with some kind of purplish black energy ray stuff? Like it shot right out of his hands. Then the wizard was gone and Pete was… like this.” 

Tony eyes the kid on the couch. Same curly brown hair. Same doe brown eyes. It’s everything else that’s wrong. Peter is sixteen, a teenager, and this kid looks like he’s no more than five years old. 

As for Peter, well, he looks content watching videos on Ned’s phone. Some children’s cartoon about dogs or something, Tony didn’t quite catch it. But the kid likes it and he isn’t crying anymore so Tony counts that as a win. Judging from the confused state the kid was in upon arrival, it’s safe to assume Peter’s memories are wiped. Or, rather, memories of his life in the present day which is a problem in and of itself.  

“So,” Ned’s drawl catches his attention. “What are we going to do?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “We?” he shakes his head. “No, no, you are going home.” 

“What about Peter?” 

Yeah Stark, what about Peter? 

“He’ll go with his aunt.” Tony says simply. Easy enough solution. 

“You mean you can’t like, fix him?” Ned asks. “What if he ends up staying like this forever?” 

Tony waves off the teen’s concerns. “He won’t.” he assures. “Whatever the wizard guy hit him with will probably wear off in a couple hours. Easy peasy.” After all, the kid couldn’t stay like this forever, could he? That is just absurd. 

----------

The effects don’t wear off. 

Two hours later and Peter is still a child. Ned is gone, reluctantly dragged out by Happy who also delivered clothes that fit the kid better so he’s no longer swimming in the Doctor Who shirt Tony assumed belonged to one of the boys. During that time, Tony contacts May to fill her in on what’s going on. The woman is stuck at work (“We’re incredibly short staffed today, it’s ridiculous.”) and unable to leave before her shift is over. 

It leaves Tony in charge of the kid which, while normally wouldn’t be an issue, he suddenly finds himself out of his depth. Teenagers, he can handle. No problem. They could be reasoned with. But small children? 

“Mr. Tony?” 

Tony jumps, spinning on hell with his hand pressed firmly against his heart. “Holy shit!” he gasps.

Peter flinches back, eyes wide and looking as startled as Tony feels. Then his bottom lip begins to quiver. 

“No no, don’t cry.” Tony says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to scare you, kid. You snuck up on me. Ought to put a bell on you someday.” 

That earns him a giggle which washes away the rising guilt. “Uncle Ben says that too.” Peter says. “Says I’m really good at sneaking.” 

“You are good at sneaking.” Tony affirms. “What are you doing down here anyway? Thought you were watching TV?” Least that’s where Tony left him. Kid was content with watching the cartoon with the dogs and he figured he could get some work done tracking down the wizard guy. 

“I was, but it’s over now.” Peter says dismissively, his eyes already wandering the workshop. Then he actually begins to wander. Tony watches him, contemplating on whether it’s a good idea to let a four year old wander his workshop. It isn’t exactly kid proof and if he knows anything about kids (which is very limited) it’s they like to touch everything. And put things in their mouths. 

“What’s that?” Peter asks and Tony leans to the side to look past the monitors and equipment to see what the boy is pointing at. 

“Oh that’s DUM-E.” 

The robot chirps in response, clicking it’s claw as it peers curiously at the boy. Tony takes a couple steps towards them, immediately thinking Peter might fear the robot. Much to his relief, the boy’s mouth is agape with wonder and eyes equally wide. 

“Wow!” he gasps. “Hi DUM-E. I’m Peter.” Peter reaches up to pet DUM-E’s extended arm, giggling as the robot chirps at him. “So is he a robot?”

“Yep. I made him.” 

“You made him?” Peter gives him the same look of wonder and amazement. “Wow. Are there other stuff you’ve made?” 

“I’ve made a lot of stuff.”

And so Tony gives the kid a proper tour of the workshop. Like his older self, Peter is sharp minded and incredibly smart. He asks questions Tony doesn’t think a four year old would know to ask and hangs onto every word Tony says. When he introduces Peter to FRIDAY, the kid is so ecstatic he can’t sit still. It warms his heart to know Peter keeps that same excitement as he aged. 

After the tour, Tony brings him into the kitchen to feed him a late lunch. The kid sits on the kitchen counter next to him, watching Tony’s every move. PB&J sandwiches are the easiest thing he can fix and turns out to be the kid’s favorite.

“So you’re a superhero?” Peter asks curiously. 

“Sometimes.” Tony replies as he spreads the peanut butter onto the bread. 

“Like Batman?” 

“Kiddo, I am way cooler and richer than Batman.”

Peter giggles and Tony thinks it might be the cutest goddamn thing he’s heard all day.

“My daddy is like you.” the kid says suddenly.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Tony asks, finding himself equally curious. He knows through his early research into Peter Parker that the boy’s parents are deceased. Father worked for OsCorp, mother worked for some type of law firm. Aside from the atrocious choice of working at OsCorp, both of them seemed relatively normal. 

“Because he makes stuff. B-But not robots like you do. He makes other stuff and-and he white wears a coat and he helps people.” Peter gives a long, wistful sigh then and adds, “I want my daddy and mommy.” 

Tony freezes, butter knife stuck in the jar of jelly. Quite suddenly he remembers something else about Peter’s parents. 

They both died in a plane crash. 

When Peter was four years old.

The man internally panics, mind going blank on what to do, what to say because what can you say? 

“Mr. Tony?” Peter’s little voice draws him from his internal crisis. He tilts his head, looking at him curiously and, dare Tony say it, concern. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Tony sniffs and finishes up the kid’s sandwich. “Yeah, totally fine kiddo. A-OK. So you want this cut up?”

“Yes.” Peter replies, apparently moved on from the incident. Yet, as Tony puts the knife to bread in order to cut, the kid shouts, “No! No no, not like that! You have’ta make the X.” 

“Huh?” Tony looks a little helplessly from the kid to the bread.

“The X!” Peter leans over and traces an X on the sandwich. “Like that!” 

Tony cuts it up according to the kid’s desire and it’s only then that he sees what the kid means. “Yeah, guess it does look like an X when you cut it, huh? Well, here you go kiddo. Eat up.” He slides the plate to the boy’s side. 

Peter takes a large bite and hums with approval as he chews. “‘Ood yob!” he says around his mouthful. It’s the additional thumbs up that makes Tony chuckle. He grabs a juice box from the fridge for the kid, something teenage Peter would have rolled his eyes and grumbled about. Toddler Peter says a polite ‘thank you’ and picks it up with fingers covered in grape jelly. 

He decides to capture the moment for May and pulls out his phone. “Heads up, kiddo.” he says and takes a picture. Peter is caught in a half smile, peanut butter smeared on the corner of his mouth. There’s a glob of jelly on his shirt that’s run down the image of Thor’s hammer. 

“I wanna see! I wanna see!” Peter instantly demands. 

Tony moves to stand next to him and flips the phone for the kid to see the picture. Peter grins and immediately reaches for the phone. “Uh uh, sticky fingers.” Tony says, which gets the kid giggling about being called ‘sticky fingers’. He moves the phone out of reach and sends the image off to May. 

“So,” Tony says. “What do you want to do after lunch? TV? Go play with DUM-E? Whatever that wannabe Merlin did to you took away your powers, or maybe just suppressed them. Maybe we ought to run some tests to figure that out.” 

On second thought, maybe not. Teenager Peter detests needles; he imagines little Peter hates them just as much. 

“DUM-E!” Peter says excitedly. 

“You’re going to spoil that bot, kid.” 

---

“Thank you so much, Happy.” May says as she steps into the Tower’s elevator. “You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have drove.”

Happy directs FRIDAY to take them to the penthouse then shakes his head. “It’s no problem.” he says. “Boss wanted to make sure you got here quickly and with that guy who attacked Peter still running around-”

“Right.” May sighs. “Well, guess he could have done worse things than turn Peter younger. At least him and Tony seem to be hitting it off.” She smiles fondly as she recalls the image Tony sent her. She only hopes Peter has been good while they wait for her.

“Yeah, well, the kid’s grown on him.” 

“I feel a little jealous, honestly.” May admits. “Peter was so cute when he was little.” 

The elevator comes to a stop, the doors slide open to the entrance of the penthouse. It’s oddly quiet inside and the lights are dimmed. “Tony?” Happy calls out as he and May walk through the foyer into the living room. 

It looks like a tornado hit it. There are papers thrown about with childish drawings covering them. A sheet covers the kitchen table which has been pulled away from the dining area and there are mini marshmallows covering the floor with some sticking to the large windows that overlook the city. A device that looks like a mini catapult sits on top of the table next to a pile of marshmallows and markers. 

May follows the chaos, finding the TV on with the Incredibles playing on a low volume and both Tony and Peter fast asleep on the couch. Peter is still a toddler in every way May remembers, sleeping with his head on Tony’s chest. There are stickers on their faces and she spots marker smears not only on Peter’s arm but also on the hand that’s resting on Peter’s back. 

“Did you find-” Happy starts, quietened as May shushes him. He comes to her side, expression softening at the sight. “Least they kept each other busy.” he remarks. 

May nods in agreement as she pulls out her phone to take a quick picture of the two. “Like two peas in a pod.” 

[starryknight09]

Unforeseen dangers ch 9

Summary:  As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“How you holding up?” Tony asked Peter as the car pulled into the Tower’s private garage.  

Peter shrugged in answer.

His kid had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entirety of the car ride, but Tony didn’t know what else he’d expected.  Tony had been raised in the spotlight.  It was all he’d ever known, so he found it oddly difficult to put himself in Peter’s shoes and figure out what he was feeling.  Instead of prying like he wanted to, he squeezed Peter against his side in a half hug.

“We’re here.” Happy announced unnecessarily as he put the car in park.  As much as his current Forehead of Security liked to grump, Tony knew the man hated tense silences just as much, if not more, than he did.

Tony wasted no time opening the car door and stepping out, but he had to duck his head back in when Peter didn’t automatically follow behind him.

“Come on kid.  Time to go.  As comfy as my car is, you can’t sit in it all day.” He said to Peter who was staring straight ahead, spaced out.  Peter blinked and slowly turned his head to take in Tony standing outside the car.  Only then did he seem to notice that he was the sole person still left in the car.

“Oh.” Peter said and blinked again before finally climbing out.  All his movements seemed slower than usual.

Tony didn’t call him on it.  He rested a hand loosely on Peter’s shoulder as they walked over to the elevator together where Bruce, Nat, Happy, and Steve were already inside waiting.

“Penthouse FRIDAY.” He ordered as they stepped in.

“Thanks guys.” Peter finally spoke, although he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground.

“You don’t need to thank anyone.” Tony said before they had a chance to respond.

“You’re dad’s right.” Steve agreed.  “We were happy to do it.”

“I needed to get out and get some air anyway.” Bruce added in a transparent attempt to lighten the mood.

Natasha just gave Peter a small smile while Happy let out a noncommittal grunt.

“Where’s everyone else?” Peter asked after another few seconds of silence had passed.

“Meeting us back here.  Actually, they probably beat us.” Tony answered.

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble just to pick me up from school.” Peter frowned.

“Nope.  No trouble.  Everyone missed you and wanted to take their turn to come and get you.  We tried rock paper scissors but since everyone on the team’s a sore loser I decided to let them all tag along.” Tony knew he was rambling and so obviously lying, but he didn’t want Peter to know the real reason everyone had shown up to get him, or the way his heart had started racing the moment he found out Peter’s identity had been discovered.

He’d been down in his workshop when Rhodey had come running in yelling his name.  “Tony!  Tony!”

When he’d heard the fear in Rhodey’s voice, he’d sat up so fast he’d smacked his head on the armor he’d been working on.  Rhodey was one of the most unshakable people Tony knew.  He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the man truly panic.  He didn’t even want to imagine what had happened to add this moment to one of those times.

“What?  What happened?” Fear swirled in his gut, visions of someone seriously hurt or dead flashed through his mind.  Someone who could make Rhodey look like that.  Peter.  Pepper.

“Have you seen the news?” Rhodey asked as he held out a hand to help him stand from the floor.

“No.”

“It’s Peter.” Rhodey came right out and said it.  He was never one to beat around the bush.

Tony’s eyes widened.  “Peter?  What about Peter?  Is he ok?” His greatest fear brought to life.  None of it made sense.  Peter should be in school and completely fine.  And he didn’t understand how Peter connected to seeing the news.  His brain felt like it was trying to reboot, to sort out the information coming at him through his sudden panic.

“He’s fine, but it’s all over the news.”

“What is?”

“He is.  Peter.  They figured out his identity.”

His first instinct was to panic, but he knew he couldn’t.  He had to stay clear headed and figure out what to do.  For his kid.

He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and forced himself to think.  When he opened them again, he caught Rhodey staring at him, waiting for his decision on what to do.

“What exactly do they know?” Tony asked.  He needed more information in order to work through the problem and figure out what to do next.  “That he’s the kid from all the pictures with me?”

“Yes.  That…” Rhodey said, but Tony could sense there was something else.

“And?  What else?” He prodded, letting his impatience through.

“That he’s your son.  That you adopted him.” Rhodey winced as he said it.

That was when the panic returned.

“Fuck.” He sprinted toward the elevator, Rhodey hot on his heels.

“Ok, now just for some perspective, don’t forget he’s Spiderman.  He’s not some helpless kid.” Rhodey said as the elevator doors closed behind them.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He spat and pushed the button for the garage three times in succession to make the elevator drop at its fasted velocity.

“Yes.” Rhodey said as if it were obvious.

“Well it doesn’t.  My kid’s still in danger, because of his connection to me.” He growled, glaring at his friend.  He knew he was displacing all his anger and frustration on Rhodey who didn’t deserve any of it, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to reel himself in at the moment.  Besides, as his oldest friend, Rhodey was definitely more than used to taking the undeserved brunt of his mood swings.  

“What are you doing?” Rhodey asked as the doors opened and he jogged toward his fastest car.

“What do you think I’m doing?  I’m going to go get my kid!” He yelled, anger starting to override his fear.  He was angry at the world for doing this to his son.  Angry at himself for not doing a better job of preventing it.  He called himself a futurist, and yet, he hadn’t been able to see this coming soon enough to stop it.  

“Wait!” Rhodey called out from right behind him.

Tony ignored him.

“Just wait a minute!” Rhodey grabbed his shoulder.  

Tony spun around, fury written on every line of his face.  “What?”

“Stop and think Tony.  What?  You think you’re just going to march in there, grab him and come home?  Like it’ll be that easy?  The entire world knows he’s your son.  They dug into everything they could about him before breaking the story ten minutes ago.  They know his parents died and then his aunt and uncle.  They know he’s a straight A student.  They know he’s on the decathlon team.  They know where he goes to school.”

Ice ran down his spine.

“They’re going to be camped out just waiting for you to show up.  Waiting for him.  For the spectacle of it.  You know it. And god forbid, what if more than just the media is waiting?  I know you like to joke about it, but you have a lot of enemies and as far as the world knows, your kid’s just a normal kid, completely unguarded at school right now.  I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but if I wanted to hurt you, this would be the perfect opportunity.”

The hell of it was, he knew Rhodey was right, and not only that, but he couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it before.  This whole thing had shaken him more than he’d realized.

“All it would take is a sniper rifle and a good vantage point, and it’d be all too easy to tag the kid as soon as he stepped outside the school.  Just like that.” Rhodey snapped his fingers.

Tony clenched his jaw at the image the words conjured.  The logical side of his brain told him that Peter had that sixth sense that would keep him safe from something like that, but the dad side of his brain worried about it not working or worried that even with the warning Peter still might not react fast enough to get out of the way.

“With enough money it wouldn’t be too hard to get a hired hand in place in such a short time frame.” Rhodey continued but his voice had softened.  “It’s what I would do.”

Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over them.  “Ok.  So what do suggest we do then?  Not get my kid?  Leave him alone and unprotected at school?” He channeled all his fear and anger into sarcasm.

“Of course not.” Rhodey gave him a scathing look.

“What then?”

“We bring the team.” Rhodey said as if the answer were obvious.

So they had.

Within thirty minutes of the news breaking, Clint had positioned himself as a lookout on a nearby roof near the school and Sam and Rhodey had taken to the sky, flying around the area to ensure that all the other rooftops remained clear while Tony made his way to the school entrance along with Bruce and Steve, two of the most invincible Avengers, given Rhodey’s imagined threat of a sniper.  

While Happy and Natasha waited in the car, the trio forced their way through the hoard of press already waiting like vultures outside the school.  Tony cursed the fact that there was no other entrance near a street because it was going to make getting his kid out a nightmare.

Tony was honestly surprised Peter hadn’t called or texted him yet, but he remembered him mentioning something before about the teachers being strict about cell phone use during class, so maybe he just didn’t know yet.  

Inside, the hallways remained quiet and desolate.  Kids weren’t running around, excitedly talking, and getting ready to mob Peter at any moment, so class must’ve just started when the news broke.  He figured that was the one lucky break in all of this.

The sound of his own phone ringing cut through the heavy silence.  He gave the screen a cursory glance, intending to ignore it until he saw the caller ID.  Pepper.  One of the few people he’d answer a phone call from at a time like this.

“Hey Pep.” He said as he pressed the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.  The last thing he needed was some errant student recognizing him.

“Tony?  Have you seen the news?” His heart warmed a little at the panic in her voice.  She obviously cared about Peter too, which shouldn’t surprise him.  The kid was like a puppy.  Everyone he met seemed to fall in love with him, and Tony knew the two of them had grown closer over the holidays when she’d helped Peter file the adoption papers for his surprise Christmas present.

“I have.”

“Oh my god.  Where are you?”

“I’m at his school.  I’m picking him up.”

“By yourself?” He marveled at the way Pepper could make her voice shrill without actually reaching a high pitched decibel.

“No.  Of course not.” He decided she didn’t need to know that was what he’d almost done until Rhodey had intervened.  “I brought the team.”

“Oh thank god.  Just get him back here and then we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Stay safe.” She ordered, stern but worried, a tone with which Tony was all too familiar.

“I will.” He said, the corner of his mouth turning up as he hung up.  It was times like these when he remembered what he and Pepper used to have, and he missed it.

He didn’t know what kind of expression was painted on his face, but whatever it was, it was enough for Steve to remind him, “Focus Tony.”

“Trust me Cap,” he said as he pocked his phone, “I’m as focused as anyone could possibly be right now.”

Steve nodded and within another ten steps they were standing in front of the office door.

Tony turned back to Bruce and Steve as he grabbed the handle.  “Let’s go get my kid.”

He swung the door open like he owned the place and did exactly that.

Tony almost couldn’t believe that had all happened within the last hour.  He still felt like he was doing catch up with trying to process everything.  He couldn’t even imagine how Peter felt.

The elevator finally reached the penthouse and the doors opened, revealing a scene Tony hadn’t been expecting, although in retrospect, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.  Pepper had kind of warned him with her phone call earlier, but he hadn’t been thinking about it.  He’d only been thinking about getting his kid to safety.  Which he’d accomplished.  

But now he needed to figure out how to approach this entire mess of a situation because it wasn’t going to fix itself.  Thus, the reason for why the penthouse was currently filled with his PR employees.

They stepped out of the elevator and into a maelstrom of chaos.  It was a scene reminiscent of the time he’d told the world he was Ironman and the resulting backlash.  Or the time he’d supposedly asked some Russian model to marry him.  He hadn’t.  Or the time he’d been quoted as saying he was anti-gun, which hadn’t been true.  At the time.  Or the time he’d gotten plastered in Vegas and apparently forgotten to clothe his bottom half before stepping out onto his balcony.  But all of those things had happened years ago.  It’d been quite awhile since he’d been at the center of this kind of media shitstorm.

Pepper noticed him the moment he stepped into the room.  She gave him a small smile as she walked over, but she stopped in front of Peter instead of him.

“Oh sweetie I’m so glad you’re ok.” She said as she pulled him into a tight hug.

He seemed a little surprised but didn’t hesitate to hug her back.  “I’m fine.”

“I know.” She said as she released him and grasped his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes.  “And don’t worry.  We’re going to figure this out.  We have people whose entire job is dealing with stuff like this.”

“What?  A secret son?” Peter joked but it fell flat.

Pepper graced him with a wry smile.  “Well, no.  This is definitely a first, but you’d be surprised by what we’ve had to deal with when it comes to Tony.”

“Hey.” Tony acted affronted even though he knew she only spoke the truth.

Pepper arched an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject.  “Anyway, what’s the plan?”

“Now that you’re here, we can do a sit down and plan out our immediate next steps.” Pepper said, all business again.

“Uh-huh.” He said, distracted by the shell shocked look on Peter’s face as he took in the room and the dozen or so strangers bustling about.

“But I really think the first thing we need to do is hold an emergency press conference, so we should put together a statement for that as soon as possible.” Pepper continued.

“Yeah.” He frowned and then held up a hand when Pepper started to speak again.  “We will definitely do all of that, but first I need a few minutes with my kid.”

Pepper blinked and looked over at Peter, her eyes softening at the obvious distress she saw there even as Peter did his best to try to hide it.  “Of course.  How about I get everyone together and we meet in the conference room at,” she checked her watch, “3:30PM.  That’ll give you fifteen minutes.  Is that enough time?”

“Should be.” He nodded and then gripped Peter’s shoulders.  “Come on Underoos.  Let’s go sit down for a minute.”

Peter let Tony guide him through all the pandemonium to the hallway and into his bedroom.  Tony pressed him down to sit at the end of the bed before grabbing the desk chair for himself.   He flipped it around and sat, letting his forearms rest on the chair back, going for nonchalant even though he felt anything but.

“So.” Tony said, not quite sure how to start the conversation.

“So…” Peter echoed back, not making it any easier.

“I know this is a lot, so I thought we should just take a little time out.  A little breather.  And you can tell me you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” Peter’s eyebrows pulled together like he didn’t understand what Tony meant.

“Yeah.  What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

“I-I don’t know.  This is all…  This is crazy.”

“It is.” Tony agreed.

“I…I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“There’s nothing I want you to say.  I just want you to talk to me.  Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling about this.”

“Um I don’t know.  It’s a lot.” Peter shrugged.

“Care to expound on that a little?” Tony asked lightheartedly.

“I guess it’s kind of overwhelming, but it doesn’t really feel like it’s real at the same time?  Does that make sense?”

Tony nodded, staying silent to encourage Peter to keep talking.

“And now there are all these people here and there were all those people waiting outside my school and I know everything’s going to change forever and…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Peter trailed off and met his eyes, and Tony hated the fear and desperation he saw there.  “It’s just…a lot.”  He repeated.  “And I guess I didn’t really think this was going to happen.  Or if it did, I didn’t think it would be this soon.  And I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  He didn’t know what to say to make it better, because there really wasn’t anything he could say, or do, to fix it.  The horse was out of the barn.  It was done.  Over with.  Now all they could do was deal with the fallout, and he knew it wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant for him or Peter.

“I’m sorry.” He settled on those two words even though they didn’t have the power to fix anything.

“It’s not your fault.” Peter shrugged.

“Still.  I never wanted any of this for you.”

Peter hung his head and picked at the fraying hem on one his sleeves.  The kid had a closet full of expensive, brand new, clothing but for some reason it seemed like he always chose to wear whatever he had that was tattered or fraying.

“What’s going to happen now?” Peter asked, looking up at him again.

“Now I’m going to go meet with all those people out there and try to come up with a game plan.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means first I’m going to find out how all this got out and how much everyone actually knows.”

“Ok.”

“And then I’m going to draft a statement to read at a press conference I’m guessing Pepper has already scheduled, probably to start within the next hour.”

“Really?” Peter seemed surprised.

Tony nodded.

“What are you going to say?”

“Depends on what the media has already spilled the beans on and how good their sources are.  If they don’t have any proof you’re my son, and it’s just conjecture, then there might be some wiggle room and I may be able to spin this a different way, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.  I’m guessing they have some solid sources if it’s already out there like this, since everyone knows how much I like to sue for slander.”

Peter snorted.

“So, how about this?  You sit tight in here and I’ll go deal with all of this, and as soon as I know more about the plan, I’ll let you know, ok?”

“Ok.” Peter agreed softly.

Tony hummed and drummed his fingers along the chair back as he studied his son.  He hated the idea of leaving him alone right now, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice.  He had to go deal with all of this, and he didn’t want to bring Peter along and subject him to everything that entailed.  That would only make it worse.  

It was a no win situation.  As soon as he left, his kid was going to be on his computer or his phone googling himself, and he’d start falling down the proverbial rabbit hole.  As a media veteran, Tony knew self google was never a good idea, but he could only guess at what was being said and written about his kid.  He hadn’t had any time to check yet, so he couldn’t even prepare Peter for it.  He definitely wasn’t winning any parenting awards today.

“Listen, I’m going to do something, and you’re not going to like it, but you have to trust me that it’s in your own best interest right now, all right?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed.  Yeah, this wasn’t going to go over well.

“FRIDAY be a dear and restrict Peter’s TV, phone, and internet access until further notice.”

“What?  No!”

“Just,” Tony said as he held up a hand, “let me deal with this stuff first, and then we’ll deal with the rest of it together.  Ok?” He tried for calm even as a storm cloud passed over Peter’s face.  At least it was better than the sick, pinched look he’d had ever since all this went down.  Silver lining.

“You’re not being fair.” Peter protested.

“I know.” He agreed and Peter didn’t seem to know what to do with that easy admission.  

“So I’m just supposed to stay locked in my room alone with nothing to do until you come back?” Peter asked skeptically.

“No.  Of course not.  You have plenty to do.” He gestured to the partially finished Y-wing Lego set, the stacks of DVDs, and the video game consoles.

“You just said I couldn’t use the TV.” Peter huffed.

Tony sighed.  “FRIDAY, Peter can use the TV for watching movies and playing video games, but nothing else, capiche?”

“Yes Boss.”

“There.  All good.  And you’re not going to be alone.  I’ll send you some company.”

Peter screwed up his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

“And I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He said as he stood and ruffled Peter’s hair, smirking as Peter tried in vain to straighten it back into place.

On his way out, Tony paused at the door to turn and look at his kid.  Peter had a desolate expression pasted across his face as he stared straight ahead at nothing.

“Hey.” Tony said to get his attention.   As soon as Peter made eye contact with him, he said solemnly, “It’s going to be ok.”

“I know.” Peter mumbled and gave him a ghost of a smile, but Tony could see the truth in his eyes.  His son didn’t believe him.  Tony always knew he was too smart for his own good.  Just like his old man.

“I love you.” Tony said with a soft intensity.  Maybe he couldn’t keep the world from crashing down around them, but he could love his son.  Always.  It was one of the easiest things he’d ever done.

“I love you too.” Peter said back and that finally got a real smile out of him.  It gave him some hope that maybe this would all turn out ok.

The door closed behind him with a click, and he made his way back out to the living room.  Pepper, along with the rest of his SI team, had left and were probably waiting for him in the conference room, but the room was far from empty.  Apparently none of the Avengers had wanted to go back to their quarters.  The show of concern both irked and warmed him at the same time.  Regardless, he didn’t have time to chit chat.  Except for the one thing he had to do.

“Hey birdbrain.” He said as he spotted Clint sitting in one of the oversized chairs in the corner of the room.  “Do you mind hanging with Peter?  I told him I’d send someone in to keep him company.”

“Sure.” Clint agreed easily.

Tony gave him a nod of thanks and made his way toward the elevator.

“Tony.” Steve said from where he and Natasha were standing in the direct path to the elevator, obviously waiting for him.

Tony stopped in front of him and raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Steve to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say.

“How’s Peter doing?” Steve asked, concern crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

Tony sighed.  He had no idea how to answer that question.  “He’s…dealing.”

Steve nodded as if he understood everything Tony wasn’t saying.

“Well, if that’s it, I have to go figure out how to deal with this disaster.” Tony said after a few seconds had passed and it didn’t seem like Steve was going to say anything else.

He took a step away but Steve reached out to grab his arm.  “Wait.  We want to come with you.”

Tony turned and frowned.  “You want to come with me where?”

“To the conference room.”

Tony just blinked.  “Why?”

“Maybe we can help.”

His face must’ve shown his skepticism because Natasha added, “We care about Peter too.”  As if Tony had ever doubted that fact.

“Fine.” He must’ve acquiesced too easily given the looks of surprise on Steve and Natasha’s faces.  But he had neither the time nor the energy to argue, and if they wanted to spend their time being tortured in a meeting, then that was their prerogative.  “Let’s go.”

Steve and Natasha followed silently as he continued on his way toward the conference room.  The truth was, he didn’t even know what kind of shitstorm awaited him, but the look on Pepper’s face when he’d stepped into the penthouse had clued him in to the fact that it was bad, along with the dozen or so PR employees milling about with their cellphones attached to their ears and their faces buried in their laptops.  Thinking about it made his heart thrum a rapid staccato in his chest.  Usually he didn’t care about his image, or whatever the media said, but this was different.  This time it was his kid.  He couldn’t help but care.

As he approached the glass walled conference room, he could see everyone waiting for him.  He’d never gone into a meeting so wholly unprepared.  After he’d gotten the news, he’d gone straight to his kid.  He hadn’t taken the time to check any media outlets to see what was being said, so besides what he’d already been told, he honestly had no clue what he was dealing with yet.  He gripped the handle of the conference room door and took a bolstering breath.  It was time to go find out.  

[cockasinthebird]

419 please?

I hope 26 is grown up enough for you!❤️

419. “Spend the night with me?”

Thank you so so much for requesting a mystery prompt, and celebrating my 500 followers with me!!! I am so happy that people are wanting to participate in this! And I hope that this is to your liking 💕

It got long, as in, 5.8k long, which was not at all my intention, but when inspiration strikes, go with the flow, right?? So here we are! Enjoy~

--

They had kept in touch over the years. Or at least tried, although it did become near impossible to find time to chat after graduation.

Billy went off to college and afterward started his own quite successful workshop, where he with a charming smile and abundance of personality has wormed his way into high society, and old women’s lust for young and rowdy guys covered in oil and tats as they fix their expensive porches - shirts not included.

And Steve moved to Chicago to begin his “training” as an heir to the Harrington Construction empire, where his current title as COO is simply a pretty facade, as his role is nothing more than to put up appearances and give orders originally from his father’s lip.

  Today’s headache comes from a stack of papers towering like a city on top of Steve’s desk. He flips through page after page after page of permits and legal shit, trying to understand what any of it means; if he’s to ever take over as president of this company, he must know what a “nonconforming structure” is, and learn to read a site map.

Thankfully he gets interrupted when the intercom dings, and his secretary speaks; “Mr Harrington, there’s someone on line two for you. Says he’s an old friend.”

It’s kind of weird how he just immediately knows who it is, and it brings forth a deep and exasperated sigh. He rubs his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers up energy, before reaching for the button that allows him to say, “Thank you Claire, you can go home for the night.”

Out the window he has a gorgeous view of the cityscape, drenched in black and dotted with night lights, proving to him that it is far later than he anticipated.

He then brings up the handset and, in a company approved tone, says, “Harrington Construction, this is Steve Harrington.”

“You’re a hard man to get to, Stevie,” a voice that sets his soul aflame drawls out every single syllable.

Steve’s heart beats a bit faster, a bit wrong, at the thick tone of his high school “sweetheart”. The “one that got away,” and all that painful jazz they make movies out of.

“Hey Billy,” he sighs and thuds his head against the back of his expensive leather chair.

���Don’t sound so excited now, princess,” the grin on Billy’s face all too apparent in his tone.

To think, 8 years has passed since he called Steve “princess” for the first time, and even at the ripe age of 26 he keeps up the same old front. Yet it still makes Steve blush all the same, a curse or a blessing, that depends entirely on who you ask. Some things never change.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, sounding just like his father, and that realization makes him sick enough to call a doctor, or a therapist, either one is good for him.

“Woah, bad timing?” 

“No…” Another of a thousand sighs escapes. “No, just… work, you know how it is.”

“Actually I do!” and Billy sounds all too chipper for Steve’s taste in energy levels right now. “I’m in Chicago this week for a fancy car show downtown; going to schmooze with some rich folks to get sponsors for my shop in Cincinnati.”

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that some time ago, I completely forgot.” Steve peers at the haunting sight of papers stacked nearly as tall as himself. He’s been too busy lately and forgets all too much. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m sure your work is way more stressful than mine.” Billy has become more forgiving with age, and it is something to get used to. “You busy now?”

Steve takes a second to respond, stares at the papers on his desk in hopes they’ll catch fire, but settles for a more realistic solution, and spins around in his chair for as long as the wire of the phone allows, till he can’t see his obligations any more.

“Nope, I’m free, what’s up?”

 -

He should have expected this. 

Sure Billy spends his days flexing in front of the rich ladies whose Wall Street husbands give all their attention to their secretaries and assistants, where he no doubt has grown accustomed to champagne, scotch, and what else these lonely housewives might bring him as a “thank you”, but he still manages to choose one of the seedier bars in all of Chicago, Illinois. Some things never change.

Low ceiling, even for a basement, half-circle booths in dark leather, a bar that can maybe fit 7 people, and walls decorated in probably stolen road signs. It reeks of sweat and cheap beer, successfully assaulting Steve’s senses.

He definitely doesn’t fit in, sticks out like a sore thumb immediately in his custom tailored suit and tie that draws everyone’s attention to him, staring like he just insulted their mothers. 

“Hey! Harrington!” Billy calls out, barely audible over the old school rock music, and all Steve sees is his hand waving in the air near the back where the lights can’t quite reach.

Being raised proper like he was, by the hand of babysitters and maids, Steve apologizes the entire trip from the front door to the last booth, as he pushes his way through the more sleazy and possibly dangerous looking crowd. He wouldn’t stand a chance if even one drop was spilled on any of these men’s shirts.

When he sees Billy his heart does the same dance as it did last they saw each other, years ago at the kid’s graduation, where they got drunk and reminisced about “the way things used to be”, about the way they used to be, and being reminded of that now makes it a bit hotter under his white collar.

Billy’s slumped against the seat, arms full of tattoos and spread across the back of the booth, legs as wide apart as the skinny jeans will allow. Some things never change. But he has. He’s gotten thicker, more muscular, which is awfully apparent in the way his white tee hugs his torso. His hair is longer, curlier too somehow, but still it’s good to see he kept the mullet. Oh but that wicked grin carries the same charm that led Steve into the lion’s den way back when.

“Good to see you could find the place,” Billy says and gives Steve a very obvious once over, taking in how sharply dressed he is, smoothly shaved, hair short and slicked back.

He doesn’t move further in to allow for any room, hogging all the space except for a bit at the end where Steve won’t be able to sit without them being inappropriately close in such a public setting.

“My driver knows his way around, thankfully.”

Steve unbuttons his jacket and takes a chance; sits down and hopes that Billy will move once he sees that Steve isn’t afraid to push boundaries anymore, isn’t afraid to challenge the retired Keg King.

But he doesn’t move - stays firm in his placement on the seat, planted even, biting his tongue as their thighs press together.

“Still living on daddy’s dime, huh?” 

“Kinda hard not to since I work for him,” Steve laughs.

Even through the fog of alcohol and cigarettes, he can smell Billy’s strong cologne, and it triggers something in him he hasn’t felt in damn near two years. Some things never change.

“Ah yes, good ol’ nepotism,” Billy chuckles, low and gravely, eyes staring too long at Steve’s lips before going up to meet his gaze.

“It’s a family business, a dynasty if you were to ask my father, so it is only to be expected,” Steve says with a smile, exhausted in a sense that is all too clear despite the low lighting.

“Mhm, sure, listen,” Billy mumbles out with disinterest, then leans in closer - not that there was much space between them to begin with. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about work or your father, if I cared for that I’d have simply called.”

Billy hadn’t called in close to half a year before today.

Steve hasn’t called in over half a year.

Neither had bothered finding time to “hang out” in two years, both had tried to move on from their past, yet they’re here now, together, and maybe Billy is tired of trying to forget, and maybe Steve is willing to remember.

“Then why did you ask for us to meet here?” Steve whispers, certain that Billy can hear him, and the way his eyes go dark beneath heavy lids proves he’s right.

And Billy licks his lips before pulling the lower one in to bite at it suggestively. “I think you know exactly why.”

His hand brushes against Steve’s neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps across his skin, his entire body perking up at such a simple and gentle touch. Steve can’t look away from those deep pools of desire, won’t even try, honestly.

He takes a stuttering breath before saying, “Not getting enough from your aged clients?”

Billy huffs a laugh and smiles rather than grins at that. “Come on, Stevie, you know me better than that, don’t you?”

“Do I?” the response quick through a teasing smirk.

“You should. I don’t sleep around with married people - their sons and daughters, however…” he trails off, well aware that Steve understands, but Billy isn’t exactly subtle, ever.

“Is that all I am to you?” Steve coos and pushes his knee against Billy’s. “Some rich married man’s son?”

“Is that all you want to be to me?” Billy moves in to ghost his breath across Steve’s lips.

“Billy…” Steve whispers cautiously.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy, it’s a gay bar, no one here will mind…”

And perhaps that’s why people stared at him like that when he came in… or at least some of them.

Steve’s hand rushes up to feel the slight stubble of Billy’s jaw as he kisses him with such eagerness that only grows from missing another person this much, a touch that Steve didn’t know he had been craving so bad till he walked into the room.

Billy’s tongue dives in as he pushes to deepen their kiss, a hand on the back of Steve’s head to pull him closer, proving just how needy Billy is as well for this, as if there’s nothing else he could want for in the world but the taste of Steve’s mouth.

And it makes him breathless, lungs wanting air but lips wanting to touch. When Billy pulls away Steve tries to move along, to stay connected like that, but Billy dodges every attempt, to groan out,

“Spend the night with me?”

Steve can’t help but laugh, gaining him a rather inquisitive look from Billy. “Why didn’t you just ask me to your hotel room right away?”

“Well I thought you’d be more likely to agree to go to a bar with me than my room!” Billy can’t help but laugh, too. 

“You’re not even gonna buy me a drink first then?” 

“Oh baby,” Billy purrs and nuzzles his nose against Steve’s neck, kissing him softly and dearly. “You can order all the room service you want at my hotel - wine, champagne, scotch, vodka, if that’s what you want.”

“Mmh,” Steve hums and tips his head aside to allow Billy better access. “Are you sure you can afford my expensive tastes?”

Billy reaches forth to loosen Steve’s tie and frees the first button of his shirt. “I’ll write it off as a business expense, anything for my princess.”

“Fuck,” Steve lets out a breathy moan as those words shoot straight through him; jolting his heart and waking his dick. Some things never change. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 -

Maybe it’s because he grew up with old money, a house full of expensive and dark furniture, ornate and vintage, but the hotel is not what he expected.

It’s so… modern, with white furniture, large windows, and polished metal. It all looks impeccably clean.

The couch faces a large fireplace, a TV mounted in the wall above, glass tables on either side of the armrests, and behind the seating is a set of glass doors that open into the bedroom that holds a king sized bed with no doubt real silk sheets, and an en suite bathroom. It’s a small and generally scarcely decorated hotel room, a plant over in the corner to bring some color, a pretentious painting with only a streak of red, but it’s upscale and no doubt rather expensive.

And the trust fund kid in Steve wonders how the hell Billy can afford all of this and room service, but he’s not going to ask nor complain. Pretend he’s on an all paid trip where he can do whatever he wants, far far away from his father and his duties. Even if it is just for one night, he can relax and enjoy himself; leave his baggage at the door.

“It’s paid for by one of my ‘sponsors’,” Billy says while taking Steve’s jacket off.

“What?” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking around thinking ‘How the hell can Billy Hargrove afford all of this?’” Thankfully Billy doesn’t sound offended by the notion that he’s still just a poor man.

“And who is your sponsor that allows you to live so lavishly?” Steve turns to Billy with a smile, who offers a smirk rather wide.

“Mrs. Howard.”

“Ah,” Steve huffs as if it was what to be expected.

“Yeah, ah,” Billy mocks him and brings his hands to the Armani belt, unbuckling it and smoothly slips it through the loops of Steve’s dress pants. 

Steve toes his way out of his shiny oxford shoes as Billy expertly unbuttons his shirt, only to find a tee beneath, and he expresses his irritation with a clear groan.

“Why do all you suit monkeys always wear a shirt beneath your shirt?” he complains lightly yet shoves rather hard for the button up to fall past Steve’s shoulders.

“I don’t know if you know, but white fabric is often rather sheer, and I’m not a fan of my subordinates seeing, well, more than they should,” Steve explains rather matter-of-fact, but doubts that Billy actually cares for the reason of it.

Instead he throws off his own tee before pulling at Steve’s, caring for something far more carnal as is evident in the way he goes to kiss and bite up and down Steve’s now fully exposed neck.

“Didn’t you- ah- didn’t you promise me something like room service?” Steve asks as he pulls Billy away by the luscious mullet, earning him a snarl and exposed teeth that want nothing more than to taste his flesh.

“Can’t it wait?” Billy growls lowly. 

And Steve wants to say no, wants to tease and make the other wait for it, if not perhaps beg a little, but when Billy grabs his ass for leverage as he grinds them together, all Steve can say is, 

"Fuck," as his brain short circuits.

Billy grins like he knows what he does to poor old Steve, like he remembers the kind of power he has over him. Some things never change. 

He licks a hot stripe up Steve's neck, and nibbles at his ear. "Come on, pretty boy, let's get you into something more… Comfortable." 

Hand in hand, Billy leads them both through the glass doors to the bedroom, and before Steve can even think of anything to say, he’s shoved onto the silk sheets where he lands with a loud poomf.

As he lies there flat on his back, he gets a good and proper look at Billy, and finds time to appreciate just how much he’s changed, how out of place he is here, inked skin in stark contrast to the white and dull background the suite offers.

His arms have been decorated with more skulls, which is no real surprise. A crown wrapped in thorns on top of one skull, another seemingly choking on rose petals. On his left bicep sits a gorgeous, topless mermaid on a rock, looking out over the horizon, surrounded by an ornate frame as if she were a painting.

Billy stares all the same down at Steve, who’s gotten a bit softer with age, his very legit excuse being that practicing sports in high school was what kept him fit then, and now he’s barely ever got time to hit the gym. But Billy looks at him like he doesn’t care, like he enjoys it, like he did back then.

Steve is incapable of looking away as Billy’s strong hands unbuckle his own belt and zips down his jeans, and…

“Are… are you not wearing any underwear?” He gawks and stares at the full, veiny cock jumping to attention as those jeans fall to the floor.

“Thought it was unnecessary,” Billy says with a grin all too alluring and knowing.

Steve wants to say something; feign protesting that Billy shouldn’t “assume I’m that easy,” but isn’t he? About an hour ago he was in his office, flaccid like a eunuch, accepting of his status as celibate what with his luck in the dating pool. Now he’s so fucking hard words fail him.

Billy wants Steve.

Steve needs Billy.

Some things never change.

Fingers calloused from hard work drift down Steve’s chest and stomach something so reverently and grateful, and as they hitch themselves in the waistband of both trousers and trunks, Steve lifts up his ass to allow for Billy to strip him clean.

“Mmmmm,” Billy, pleased with the sight of Steve’s lengthy erection and flushed skin, hums like he’s just been served his favorite meal on a silver platter.

And he drops to his knees by the end of the bed, kissing his way up the inside of one thigh, hands on the outside of either, guiding Steve’s thighs over Billy’s broad shoulders, around his head, feet locking together on his back.

Steve props himself up on his elbows for a better view, as Billy’s warm, soft, wet lips get closer and closer to his throbbing cock that hasn’t been touched proper for months, and even that one time at the office Christmas party wasn’t all that fulfilling.

The further up Billy goes, the more he sucks on the skin, drawing forth purple marks to leave as a reminder for Steve - not that this is something that will be forgotten anytime soon. And when he finally reaches the end of his short journey, he wraps his fingers around Steve’s dick, firm and confident in the grasp as he moves his hand up and down at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Fuck,” Steve sighs with appreciation, well aware to the fact that it’s because it’s Billy, specifically, that makes this all the more enjoyable - all the more formidable.

Because Billy knows what he’s doing with Steve in his hands, and he makes use of old tricks as he lets out his tongue to tease at Steve’s taint, licks his tongue flat over his balls, to the base of his shaft, making the entirety of Steve’s body twitch and writhe as waves of euphoria rush through his muscles.

“Shit, Billy!” Steve moans and is quick to entangle his fingers in golden locks, as Billy starts a slow climb up his aching dick.

He can’t resist the way his back arches, abs flex, hips stutter, as he involuntarily thrust into the hand aided by a wide and sensational tongue, that eagerly laps up the pre cum that dribbles down.

And when Billy closes his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock, the poor brunette chokes on his own sounds and presses his head hard into the mattress, eyes screwed shut tight, as Billy immediately goes as deep as he can before Steve hits the back of his mouth, prodding at his uvula as he gags and swallows the best he can, making Steve practically cry and tremble with self restraint as to not just shove his lengthy prick all the way into that gorgeous heat.

Not that Billy isn’t trying his best to do just that, gagging and drooling all over Steve’s cock and his own hand working at the start of hard flesh, all of it a wet mess as he starts bobbing his head, looking up through his lashes to see how those erotic gasps and curses drip from Steve’s open lips. He keeps a calm and trained rhythm, tongue out where his lips can’t reach, throat contracting around the leaking head, hand moving along with every bow.

It’s driving Steve mad; the sweet wetness of Billy’s mouth, cheeks hollowing, the ecstatic humming and moaning sending vibrations down his pulsating cock, it’s everything he’s been craving for years.

“Billy… Billy, stop,” he tries to warn him, “Or I’ll- ah-”

But it only makes Billy more eager, somehow - keeps his lips locked around the head, tongue twirling at that weak spot beneath, as he jerks Steve off fervently, effectively pulling him undone.

“Shit, ah- fuck, Billy, I’m- I’m-”

The heat in his gut reaches a fever point, and he’s powerless as he cums into Billy’s mouth, dick kicking as he empties out, voice so loud the neighbors must be hearing it, but he can’t be bothered to care about that, as satisfaction soothes across him, like sinking into a Jacuzzi and letting yourself drift away on the soft bubbles.

Gingerly, and with what could be misconstrued as honest affection, Billy licks Steve’s softening cock clean of what he might not have initially swallowed, then leaves a trail of affable kisses up his torso as Billy climbs onto the bed, situating himself comfortably between Steve’s shaky legs.

“Hmmm good?” Billy whispers with a well deserved, self-satisfied grin. He continues kissing the soft and pale skin, along the jaw, the moles on Steve’s cheek, the corners of his lips as he smiles and nods.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles warmly and with a full heart, “Good.”

“Don’t think we’re done just yet, pretty boy.” And the grin grows wider, grows more salacious; rousing in the way he licks across his teeth.

“I’d hope not,” Steve just barely manages to mumble out before pushing their lips together, quick and brief before Billy pulls away from the needy embrace.

He takes long and hurried steps from the bed to his open suitcase, where his hand dives straight for a bottle of lube and a condom, and the sight of it jolts Steve right awake, because oh god oh yes does he want nothing more than Billy’s steely cock inside him.

The bed dips beneath Billy’s weight as he kneels between spread legs. “Think you’re ready for more?” his breath a ghost on Steve’s desirous lips, who leans in for a kiss, but Billy pulls away with a shitty little smirk.

“Please,” Steve whines and brings a hand to the back of Billy’s head. “I need you to fuck me, Billy; haven’t had a good dick in years.” He nuzzles their noses together and carefully kisses Billy’s astonished expression.

“Jesus Christ, princess,” is all he can groan out in response, sounding like he’s never been more turned on, which might just be the case. “Such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.”

And the electricity in the air courses through Steve as Billy kisses him again, deep and sensuous, lets out his tongue to feel how Steve’s own writhes around the vivid little sounds he makes.

While Steve tangles his fingers in that mane, Billy pops open the bottle and slicks up three digits before swiftly bringing his hand down between them. Their lips break apart as he teases the tip in a circle around the rim, because Billy wants to witness the way Steve’s face shifts, and with gazes locked tight and assuredly, he pushes in, slow, courteous. 

Steve bites hard at his lip when Billy smoothly dives past the first knuckle, then the second, and a slight “Fuck,” escapes as he fights to keep his eyes open, keep himself raised and near where Billy watches him with fondness that can only come from absence. Or maybe that’s just what Steve wants that look to mean. He moves his hips down to swallow up what’s left of Billy’s middle finger, keeps eye contact with intensity that begs for more.

When the finger curls together inside it knocks out a little “Ah,” that interrupts his steady, heated breathing. He licks his lips before leaning in to meet Billy again.

He was never one for a quick fuck, something hard and rowdy and crude, which took some confidence to tell Billy way back when. No, Steve wants it nice and soft and gentle and loving. Wants to hold hands, kiss and lick at salty skin, wants to be kissed, bodies flush and sticky with sweat as they rock together, held dearly. Some things never change.

“You think you can take another?” Billy asks, kind and considerate, pulling Steve back from where his mind was drifting off to.

“Yeah, please,” Steve coos and refocuses on those gorgeous baby blues.

Billy chuckles like thunder on a warm summer day, and he smiles just as charming. “You don’t have to say please or beg for it, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Steve hopes to find a glint of a lie in his eyes, because the truth will only make saying goodbye all that much worse, and when there’s nothing but honesty there, his voice cracks dangerously as he whispers, “Billy…”

As Billy presses in a second finger, Steve lets his head fall backwards with a pliant moan, arms wrapped around Billy’s broad shoulders to keep him up and close. Close enough for Billy to kiss and nibble and bite playfully up and down his neck, feeling the vibration of his voice and rhythm of his pulse as Billy pumps his fingers in and out.

It doesn’t take long for it to not be enough, making Steve whisper out, voice going hoarse, “More, ah-”

And Billy raises up his head to try and read Steve’s expression. “Already? You sure?”

The tenderness to his tone makes everything better, makes everything worse. Makes Steve want to beg him not to go, please.

“Yes, fuck-” Steve wets his lips and meets the inquisitive gaze. “Billy it’s been so long, I just need to feel you inside me so bad.”

There is no resisting the magnetic pull between them, as Billy eagerly kisses Steve, to taste how sweet those words are, how needy they are. With their lips locked he adds a third digit and swallows every sound Steve makes like he’s starving for his attention.

“God, you make me so fucking hard, baby,” Billy growls out and moves his hand faster, going as deep as he can with every thrust, making Steve whine. “Can’t wait to feel how tight and warm you are again.”

To even his own wonder and amazement, Steve’s cock is starting to fill out again already with only a few minutes break from his last orgasm. Two years since he last felt this good, felt Billy’s thick fingers open him up, felt Billy’s veiny dick brush against his thigh, eager and wet with pre.

The stretching burns faintly, but the pure pleasure of it all is making him impatient for more, and he kisses Billy with breathless enthusiasm. “Billy, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna go insane.”

Billy chuckles, awestruck and joyful in a way that makes his eyes crinkle, lips stretch wide, Steve’s heart ache for the good old days. So he leans away, retreats his fingers and reaches for the condom he dropped on the bed before, but pauses with it in hand, staring down.

“What?” Steve asks, his stomach turning in some way at how those eyes adore him like he’s a marbled statue behind velvet rope.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Billy reaches up with his dry hand to push away brown locks from Steve’s face. “You’ve grown so handsome over the last few years.”

And Steve should have known- he should have known that that was what that look meant, should have recognized it from the way they’d watch each other in secret back then. He wants nothing more than for this moment to grow into eternity. Moving on was painful and he should have said no to meeting, because now he’s facing another half year just yearning and pining and wishing.

He returns to reality as the condom wrapper gets torn open, and watches how Billy slips it on with a perfected roll of his hand, how he strokes himself with the excess lube, how he lines up with Steve’s fluttering hole.

Billy grabs the underside of Steve’s knees, spreading him out and folding him in half to properly expose everything, allowing Billy a splendid view as he slowly pushes the head of his steely cock in.

Steve’s arms give up beneath him and he falls onto the sheets; a long drawn out “Fuuuuuck,” escapes with a moan as Billy fills him out, satiating his hunger, stretching the muscle till he’s panting for air with a stutter.

“Oh Billy,” he gasps and sends his hand in search for another, blindly skipping across silk till he’s found.

Fingers lace together and Billy leans down to kiss each of Steve’s digits. He settles in between wide spread thighs and sits still there for a moment, appreciating how well his cock fits, how Steve is clenching around him.

His lips travel down Steve’s arm, up his bicep and past his shoulder as he moves down and closer to whisper in a blushing ear, “You feel so amazing, princess. Warm and tight and perfect, like you were made for this- made for me.”

Words that could make him cum untouched, if Steve were to be honest about it. He had love once. They had love once. But life pulled them apart, and it was always a struggle to find their way together again, only for brief moments, a day or two, before they’d have to abandon that warmth and feel the pain of separation again.

And Steve wonders if Billy feels the same way as he does.

With their bodies drawn together, chests flush and warm and sweaty, Billy starts moving gently, pulling almost all the way out just to bottom out in a slow motion, and Steve adores how the head of his cock drags against each muscle, massaging every inch in reach.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Steve moans softly and relaxes fully underneath the heavy weight of Billy’s sweaty, tan, inked up body.

“Ahh, me too, mmh-” Billy whispers back, voice thick and luscious in Steve’s ear before finding his way to his mouth.

Fingers entangled, hips thrusting tenderly, tongues dancing a well practiced waltz, it just proves that-

“Some things never change.”

Steve had gotten lost in the euphoria of their tryst, and barely even heard Billy’s words, wouldn’t have believed he had spoken at all, if when he opened his eyes he wasn’t met with such a caring look from heaven's own gaze. He can’t help but smile at Billy’s talent for knowing exactly what’s on his mind.

They both smile into the kiss, but falls into bawdy ‘o’s as Billy sets a faster, more shallow pace, encouraged completely by the way Steve moans more and louder, and when his prostate is found he arches his back.

“There- ah! Billy!”

“I got you, princess,” Billy grunts out, going for soft but sounding too fucked out.

He kisses as far down Steve’s chest as he can, running a hand over his twitching stomach to reach for the leaking prick-

“N-no! Don’t!” Steve utters through whimpering lips. “I-I can cum without- wanna cum without.”

Billy’s quick to remove his hand again. “You sure?”

“Y-yeah, I’m- mmh- I’m close-” With his free hand, Steve reaches up to push off of the headboard and deeper onto Billy’s cock sliding in and out.

The devil’s grin smooths across Billy’s face, and he licks his lips. “Already?” his tone low and desirous, “You really needed this, huh? Needed me.”

“Ah- shit- yes, you! Only you, Billy,” Steve calls out loud and turns his head to press kisses against Billy’s wrist.

“God, that’s so fucking sexy, Stevie,” Billy groans roughly, like tires on wet gravel. He grabs Steve by the hip; angling him up so that he can thrust deeper, grind harder. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, strangling my dick with your tight little hole.”

Every movement lights sparks inside of Steve, the fuse to the fireworks burning faster and faster every time Billy’s incredible, fat cock pounds into his prostate, every touch scorching and phenomenal, overstimulating to a point where he won’t last much longer.

And it truly takes no more than a kiss to his collarbone, Billy’s hand squeezing at his hip, before he’s cumming again, body tensing up, emptying his lungs towards the ceiling as Billy fucks him fast through his orgasm that sends fireworks loose behind his lids.

“Fuck, yes that’s so fucking good, arrh, Steve-” Billy spills into the condom, hips stuttering involuntarily with a few too hard and crude thrusts as he buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

They freeze like that once all energy has drained, sweaty and heaving for air, pressed together in a mindless haze of unadulterated pleasure. Steve almost forgot how good he can feel, how satisfaction feels, to be completely and fully blissed out, happy.

He’s the first to move in a while, as he wraps his legs around Billy and snakes one arm across his back and up to hitch on the opposite shoulder, keeping him as near and close as physically possible, hoping to lock them together forever.

Billy kisses him gently, tasting the salt that runs down Steve’s neck, humming content and ending with a happy sigh.

“You know…” he breathes out, voice so faint it’s as if he’s barely there at all. “I’m staying in town for the week.”

“Mmmh, yeah,” Steve coos, sleepy and exhausted. “For the car show, you’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah, but also…” Billy raises himself up on his elbows.

He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, removing the locks that’s plastered to his forehead. It takes him a moment to continue, thoughts clearly processing something, as is evident in how concentrated his brow furrows.

“I’m… considering relocating my shop, keep the old one running but make headquarters in a bigger city.”

And Steve’s no fool, he catches on immediately, knows exactly what Billy is barely insinuating, and his heart is going rampant, close to exploding maybe as it jumps around his chest, making him truly speechless.

“Was hoping you’d, I dunno, help me look around? Find a shop for sale or something. Some place here in Chicago.”

“Billy…” Steve whispers, hoping that his tone conveys every single thing he’s feeling right now, and perhaps the way Billy smiles at it proves that he hears it all. “Yes, I’d love to help you out.”

Billy leans down to kiss him, lips portraying something new and hopeful.

Maybe… maybe some things are about to change.

[saltlampsasuke]

Unfortunately, You Are Experiencing Symptoms of Falling in Love: Part 6

Having your long-term boyfriend cheat on you is pretty bad, but you're lucky enough to have a rich, pro-hero best friend who lets you move in with him until you get a new apartment. Except lockdown happens. And you can't look for a new apartment anymore, and you can't go anywhere anymore, and neither can your best friend, and you think you might be falling a little bit in love with him. Or maybe you've been in love with him all along.

The story of how it takes a nationwide lockdown for you and Bakugou Katsuki to finally get together, part 6!

taglist: @stargazerunlimited @luna-bloodrose​ @lov4kbg

haha I totally just realized I needed to post this on tumblr! (I’m spidersasuke on ao3 and I usually post there first). Anyway, it’s been a while, long story short this semester was awful and I didn’t have any spare mental energy to work on this but I hope to get a good chunk done before I go back in February! I'm really sorry to keep you all hanging for so long. Anyway, thank you all for your patience and support and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

It took you a while to truly absorb the seriousness of what he was saying. It was hard to imagine the scale he was speaking of, not just your country, but the whole world would be affected. But also, on a smaller scale, your world was being rocked. Of course, it wasn’t like living with Katsuki was hard. Honestly, it was like a breath of fresh air, and your life had been easier these last few weeks than it had felt in a long time. Even though it was just small things, you had forgotten how nice it felt to be cared for; to have someone consider your needs as well as their own. But even so, at the moment you didn’t see Katsuki all that much, considering the time the two of you spent at work. But now, he wouldn’t be working at all. Maybe you wouldn’t be either, considering how you shared your workshop space with a couple of other support techs to avoid taking huge chunks out of your commissions to use the more advanced gear. But also, it wouldn’t really be fair to the heroes you worked for if you just stopped. You only worked for a couple, including Katsuki, but even taking him out of the equation still left you with people who relied on your services. You had to ask.

“What am I going to do about work?” you asked carefully. “Even if you’re not breaking your gear left and right to keep me in business, there are still other heroes who might need me.” Katsuki shook his head.

“Not happening. All of your people have already been talked to.” He took a deep breath, and you prepared for what he was about to say. This was one of his rare, completely serious moments, and you knew he wouldn’t back down from what he said. “I’m sorry, but since you live with me it just can’t happen. The hero commission really does not want to risk me getting sick, hence the quarantine. I’m still not letting anyone else touch my shit, so they’re gonna try and set up a place for you somewhere in the building but that might take a bit. And if I’m not breaking my shit on the street constantly there’s not really any need for you to work. I know how much your job means to you and I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

Katsuki ran his hands through his hair with frustration. He was already so tired, and dealing with so much, and he was still thinking about you. You opened your mouth to thank him, but he cut you off.

“And don’t even think about trying to move out now. You’d have to be the dumbest person alive if you thought I’d let you pull that shit right now,” he barked, starting to return to the Katsuki you knew and loved. You shook your head with a smile.

“I was just going to say thank you, dummy.” He blinked a few times, taken a bit aback.

“Of course you were, dumbass. You’re the dumb one around here. Saying dumb shit. Whatever. I’m fucking tired.” He had been up late last night, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little bit more.

“I thought you wanted to make breakfast, Katsuki! You want me to starve?” you said with a laugh. Fuck. Seeing that smile on your face after such a long night was really all he needed. Maybe he was tired, if he was letting thoughts like that come this easily.

“You deserve to starve after all you put me through, shitty woman. I open my home to you and this is how you repay me?” You gave him a gentle pat on the head.

“You need to get some sleep, Mr. Pro Hero. Let me make breakfast for once, or finish it, seeing as you already did most of the work."

“Damn right,” he interrupted, nodding slowly

“Seriously, just take a nap or something. We can do breakfast later.” When he didn’t respond, you peered at him curiously only to find that he had fallen asleep in the middle of your conversation. He was that tired. You gently pushed him so that he was lying in a somewhat comfortable position, and grabbed a nearby throw blanket to cover him. You’d finish breakfast yourself, and let him sleep as much as he needed.

Katsuki woke up around three hours later, grouching about how you never should have let him sleep that much, and how dumb you were, but you knew he was feeling much better. Of course, you also knew that you would probably have to work out some sort of schedule so that you two could coexist. The more you thought about it, the weirder it seemed. Sure, you had thought that you saw Katsuki a lot, after all, he did make you breakfast, and drive you to work, and you had hung out at night a few times when he wasn’t too busy, but to be honest it wasn’t that much when all was said and done.

The life of a pro-hero was a busy one, and since Katsuki was Number 2 he had to deal with press conferences, fan events, and keep up with appearances. It had taken him a while, and you had heard more than your fair share of complaining from him over the years about overzealous fans, but he had gotten a lot better when it came to the social parts of hero life. Of course, he was still grouchy and barked at people constantly, but that was part of his charm. You were sure he definitely wouldn’t miss all those events. The point remained, you were about to be spending much more time with him than you ever had in your life, and while his apartment was big, you were a bit worried.

“Do you want to maybe set up a schedule or something?” you asked carefully. “And since I’m not really going to have any money coming in from work, how do you want to deal with paying for groceries and utilities and stuff?” That got his attention quick. He sat up from his relaxed position on the couch, and threw off the blanket you had so kindly provided for him.

“Are you seriously dumb enough to think that I was ever going to let you give me any money? Job or no job, I’m not taking shit and that’s final, princess,” he said, arms folded with sincerity. You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. It was the answer you expected, but it was so funny how even when he was being incredibly kind he had to call you dumb.

“Ok, even still, I don’t want to wind up getting in your way if we’re both home all day. I mean, I won’t really have anything to work on, maybe I can get some small tools up here or just work on something fun, but I don’t want to get in the way of anything you might want to be doing.” Unlike you, Katsuki was fully willing to roll his eyes at you.

/p>“What I going to be doing? I’m not working either. If anything, you should stay in my way so I don’t get bored out of my mind. Although I’m probably going to have to get some more machines and shit in here so I can stay in shape. Might have to put stuff in the living room. Not sure,” he mused.

Well, he was right. There really wasn’t much else he would be doing but working out so you wouldn’t really get in his way. Although, did you want to be around Katsuki when he was working out? Sure, you had seen him fight criminals before, and you had to measure his stats every so often when you were fixing his gear but for some reason your mind kept going to weird places whenever you thought about it. Would he wear a shirt when he worked out? Probably not, right? Wait a minute, why did you care if he wore a shirt or not? It didn’t matter, and you had enough close calls what with you two sharing a bathroom. And you were a grown woman! You had seen people with their shirts off before! This really wasn’t a big deal at all!

“What’s going on in that big nerd brain, princess? I see your gears turning,” Bakugou asked, poking your forehead. You felt your cheeks heat up. God, he had really caught you thinking about him- no, you weren’t even going to say it. Quick, what could you say?

“Just thinking about how crazy this all is. I mean, a global pandemic? It barely seems real!” Katsuki nodded understandingly.

“Yeah, it’s fucking weird not being able to do anything about it either. I mean, when was the last time either of us had any actual time off? Had to be maybe a bit after graduation, but I think that was it.” He was right. When was the last time you had genuinely taken a break? It had been nothing but constant work for you, especially once Katsuki started getting in serious fights on a regular basis. And of course, you had other heroes to deal with as well. Taking a break was just never really a thought that crossed your mind.

But now? You genuinely had no work to do. Nothing. For the first time in years, you could relax. Sure, you couldn’t really leave the apartment, but the apartment had a private pool. It could be so much worse. And the more you thought about it, the better you felt. Sure, it would be weird seeing Katsuki so much, but he was your best friend!

And wouldn’t it be better to have someone to talk to anyway? You would go crazy left to your own devices eventually, and you shuddered to think at how antisocial Katsuki might become if he didn’t see anyone for however long this lockdown lasted. Which might be a while. It was a good thing you were here. And with any luck, you could get Katsuki to cook for you more often. Yes, this was definitely a good thing. You flopped backwards onto the couch, spreading your body across the plush cushions.

“Want to put on a movie, since our afternoon appears to be free?” Katsuki nodded.

Interlude from Katsuki’s point of view

The minute he got the message about the meeting, he was nervous. And he was never nervous, but being a hero for this long meant he had developed a pretty good gut sense of when things were about to go south. And his gut was ringing a 5-fire alarm. Still, he put on the suit and wrestled with his hair to get it to some level of presentability. This meeting was rushed, but bound to be some level of televised. At the very least there would be photos, and the more put-together he looked the more at-ease the public felt.

As some doctor he didn’t know started to explain the circumstances, his mind kept going back to you, probably already asleep in his apartment. Maybe he had been too strict about the apartments you had been looking at, but damn if he wasn’t glad you were still there. And there was no way he was going to let you move out now. Catch the virus in some loser apartment, where he probably couldn’t even make you his get-well soup? Not fucking lightly.

“Ground Zero?” He was pulled away from his thoughts as someone called his name, sounding like it wasn’t the first time they had done so. Was this the doctor at the beginning? No, he recognized this lady. Some woman from the hero commission.

“Uh, yes?” Damn it. That wasn’t smooth at all, not befitting the number-2 hero.

“You do understand what this means for you, correct?” What? How was he involved in this? He wasn’t dumb enough to think he could blow up a virus. Maybe if he was 16, but surely not now.

“Of course I do.” Of course, he didn’t.

“So you’re fine with staying in your apartment for as long as we deem necessary? Again I must stress that it is of the upmost importance that we preserve the health of our strongest heroes,” replied the woman. Damn. He really needed to pay more attention in these meetings. He had to respond, quick. Sure, he was fine with that. He’d iron out the details later. And of course, it was still flattering to know that he was powerful enough that he had to go to such extents to avoid getting sick.

“Yeah. We’ll need to work out a training regimen and everything but if it’s gotta happen it’s gotta happen.” The woman nodded, pleased with his compliance, and soon the discussion moved from him and the other top heroes to people with quirks that might help with the virus. Yeah, he could probably stop listening now. And the people at his agency would help iron out the fine details.

Damn, it was getting late. You kept invading his thoughts. There was no way you would be leaving his apartment either, which meant it would be just the two of you alone together for who knows how long. Just how he liked it. The secret part of him he always tried to ignore was telling him that this would be just like a vacation (no, he needed to stay focused and work hard in case something happened), that he could show off his cooking skills to you every day (ok, good idea, secret brain), that no one else would be able to see you for months, least of all that bastard you used to live with, hah, he would get to spend so much time with you (why was he so happy about this?) Clearly he was overtired or something. The rest of the meeting dragged on into the morning, and he made sure to meet with his agency afterwards to take care of a few things, but all he really had on his mind was sleep.

Of course, the minute he walked through the door and saw your shoes on the floor, he stopped. He had to talk to you, explain everything. He started making you breakfast almost on autopilot. Then, maybe he explained things to you? Yes, he did that, but then somehow he was asleep on the couch. You shouldn’t have let him sleep so much. Although, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go.

Now what? You wanted to talk schedules? He wouldn’t have let you in his house if he didn’t want you there, like hell you were going to leave. And you weren’t paying for shit either. He was going to take care of you like that bastard never cou- no, why was he comparing himself to him? And sure, he had the workout room and all, but maybe he should get some extra weights to put in the living room. That wouldn’t be weird, he still had to work out. Ok, now you were staring. Were you thinking about him? He hoped so. He had to tease you, at least a little.

No, this was going to be good. You and him and all this free time. Not like he could stand anyone else anyway. This was going to be good. As long as he stopped thinking all this weird shit. Felt like it was getting worse every day. No, this was going to be fine. He’s a grown-ass man, he’s the number-2 hero, he’s dealt with a ton of crap before. This lockdown would be a breeze.