#never letting her in my room again overnight jesus maria

[lilamala]

started the day off right by rolling over at 7 am and planting my ass right in a puddle of cat puke

[saadiestuff]

A Dying Man, He Asked For You (Malex fic)

Summary: Alex in pain is breaking Michael's heart - and not in the way that he’s used to. (AKA yet another future fic post-1x13 getting Malex back together. Can't ever have too many!)

For the prompt from @hannah-writes: “I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.” - Post finale Malex, happy ending obvs, Michael's attempts at moving on failed miserably and Alex is still waiting because Alex is a gift?

“Are you Michael? Michael Guerin?” Both Michael and Maria are startled away from attempting to squint through the drawn blinds of patient room 305. “Yeah, I’m him,” Michael says, turning to face the doctor who’d spoken. He was old, with kind, well-lined, eyes. “Good. My resident is in there with Alex right now, but you can go in as soon as she comes out.” “Is he… is he okay?” Michael asks weakly, “You said I’m his emergency contact? Do I need to decide something--?” “No, no,” the doctor says, brows furrowing, shaking his head, “Like I said on the phone, he's pretty roughed up, but stable and awake.” “I’m afraid he didn’t hear much of what you said on the phone,” Maria explains, remembering watching Michael’s face turn pale as he’d received the news that Alex was hurt and in the hospital a town over. Just then, the door to Alex's room opens, and a young resident comes out. “There, now you can go see for yourself,” the doctor says, grinning. But Michael had seen as the door swung. He’d seen Alex lying on the bed, curled on his left side to face the door, looking small, with a large cast covering his entire right arm. "He hates me," Michael blurts out, eyes wide, when the door clicks shut. The doctor sighs. “Son, when he came here, he was in a lot of pain, losing just enough blood to be scared, really scared, and he was trying to be a brave soldier - I can see he’s been through worse - but he was asking for you . He was asking for you in a way a dying man doesn’t ask for some friend of his whose name he slapped on a medical form a few months back and then forgot to take off when they got into a fight.”

Michael feels like he might be sick. He doesn’t know why. He just wants to be in that room and he wants to be as far away from it as possible - at the same time. The doctor continues, “So you see, I told him, what I hoped was reassuringly, that he was not dying and would be able to call you himself.” “He didn’t,” Michael gulps. "That’s why I did,” the doctor says quickly, “Now, would you please consider going in there and trying to convince my patient not to leave against medical advice? I’d like him to stay overnight for monitoring, and so he can relax with stronger pain relief and heal, and he’s having none of it.” The doctor smiles, claps Michael gently on the shoulder and leaves without another word. Maria turns to him. Michael looks like he's about to break. He puts his face up to the window of Alex’s room and stares, even though the blinds are still drawn. "Guerin..." Maria says softly, reaching for him and turning him around. He stares at her, wide eyed, tears pooling. "Guerin, you need to go in there.” She speaks calmly, but it’s a order. "I-- I-- can't--" Michael stutters. "Pull yourself together. The doctor said he'll be okay. Have you still not heard that part?" she says a little briskly, hoping to get his attention. "I don't want to hurt him again. I can't. He’s already hurt and I’m just going to go in there and...” he trails off, drawing in on himself, hating that he’s back, yet again, at this place of not trusting that he won’t hurt someone he loves. Beside him, Maria takes a deep breath. Then her words rush out. "You and I are over." "What?" Michael asks, casually, like he hasn’t understood. “I’m breaking up with you,” she says firmly. “What?” Michael says again, this time his voice is soft and high, cracking over the single syllable. "You'll go in there, hold him, and forget that I even exist," she says explains calmly, "And that’s how it should be. You should be with someone who chases the whole world away. And that someone isn’t me." "Maria--" “I want you to be there for him and I don’t want you to feel guilty for loving him while you do it,” she tells him. "Alex needs you right now. And you need him. You've been needing him all these months.” It’s not an accusation, it’s just facts. Michael stares at her, his mouth opening and closing against words refusing to form; words of pleading, the kind you’d expect to say when being dumped by someone you genuinely like. Instead, a feeling like relief overwhelms him. “You don’t have to deny it. It’s okay,” Maria assures him. “It’s not okay,” he manages to get out. “It’s not,” she admits, “But that’s why we need to end things. Because it probably never should have started, especially not the way it did.” “It wasn’t meaningless.” He offers her the one truth he can. “I know. We care about each other and we work strangely well together,” she smiles sadly at him, her tone tender and wistful, “But there was never enough there.” Michael hangs his head, silent tears roll down his face. Maria knows it's not for mourning their four-month relationship. It’s about him realizing that he’s hurt Alex for this thing that isn’t even real, and that maybe they’ve only lasted as long as they have because they didn’t want to admit that. And it’s about him releasing his pent up terror of the last few hours since finding out Alex was hurt, that yet another of his small family might have died on him. Maria feels crappy about the whole thing, but the timing sucks especially. There’s no room for the debrief they probably both need, and now there never will be. But it’s more important that she get Michael to Alex. “I wish there was a better moment to do this, but every day longer I wait is just worse isn’t it? There’s so much more I wanted to say, but--.” “Wanted to?” Michael says slowly, a smirk nearly crossing his face, that annoying involuntary one that creeps up like a shield when he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the state of his life, “How long ‘you been planning on letting me go, DeLuca?” “I never really had you,” Maria says with a small shrug. It's sad, but she won't let the tears fall, not here. "I'm sorry,” he says, because she’s right, if he’s honest. And that was never fair to either of them. "No,” she shakes her head gently, “Let's save our apologies for Alex, okay?" Michael nods, with a sniffle. Maria reaches up to raise his chin, and wipe a tear off his cheek, knowing it's the last time she'll ever touch him like that. "Guerin, we're not going to talk about this later," she tells him, turning to walk away. ~~~~~ Michael forgets the entire world the moment Alex's room door closes behind him. Alex hasn’t moved since Michael had caught a glimpse of him a few minutes ago. Lying on his left side, curled almost up against the bed rail, one hand gripping it tightly, the other in a cast along with much of his arm, extending past his elbow. His eyes fly open at the noise of Michael’s cowboy boots on the hard floor. “Gu--Guerin?” Alex stammers, in groggy surprise. “Your doctor called me. You could probably sue him breach of privacy,” Michael jokes feebly. Alex huffs, and Michael isn’t sure what that means, so he moves closer, pulls up a chair next to the bed, and settles into it. "Hey," Michael says softly, resting his chin on the bed rail. Alex squeezes his eyes shut. He feels exposed, and it's the only way he has to hide. Michael thinks for a moment he's being dismissed - that the nice old doctor had it wrong - and that he is in fact the last person Alex wants to see. But then Michael notices Alex struggling to uncurl his shaky hand from the railing. Michael reaches for it and takes it in his, and with the other folds down the railing, allowing him lean in closer. Michael strokes Alex's sweaty hair, mindful to avoid touching the cut and bruise at the side of his forehead. Still, Alex flinches at first and clutches Michael's hand tightly, but he quickly calms as Michael continues with slow consistent movements. “Jumpy,” Alex says by way of explanation. "What happened?" Michael asks softly. “For the record? Fell down some stairs.” “Off-record?” “Beaten up,” Alex says weakly, knowing Michael will hate that answer if he still feels anything for him, and Michael's tear-stained face says that he does. Hot anger flashes through Michael's whole body. He’s going to tear apart whoever did this. “By who? And why?” Michael asks, managing to keep a lid on his emotions. “Three goons. I got too close to something I’m not supposed to know about, and someone wanted to scare me. Left me alive - even called me an ambulance - because they’ll be back asking for favours. They were impressed with my skills, I guess.” “Jesus, Alex.” Michael hates that Alex is making new enemies. Jesse Manes is enough. “Who are these people? What are you looking into?” “Shouldn’t talk. Not here,” Alex says, sounding tired. “Okay,” Michael drops it, though he doesn’t like it. “Are you in a lot of pain?” Alex tries to shake his head, not finding the energy to speak a convincing lie, but that hurts. He winces, and lets out an involuntary whimper that just about breaks Michael's heart. “Easy, easy,” Michael soothes, “Just relax.” Alex bites his lip against a groan as he shifts, trying to get passably comfortable again. “Look, I already know you’re a total badass. You can let it out,” Michael says, smiling fondly at Alex, trying to hide his own pain. Alex nods once, barely perceptible, and closes his eyes again, forcing a few tears through his eyelashes. Most run straight into the pillow - the others Michael wipes off the bridge of Alex’s nose. “So, what’s the damage here?” Michael tries, uncomfortable in the silence, “Broken arm obviously--” “Doesn’t need surgery.” “Head injury - I’m guessing concussion.” “Yeah. And twisted my knee and broke the prosthetic. Broken rib or two. Nothing much to be done about those.” Michael breathes deep. “Doc said you bled a lot?” “Head wounds will do that. And I gashed my back on something when I got pushed down. I don’t even know what. Nothing serious, just enough blood to be… concerning…” “Fuck, Alex, they could have killed you. You could have died,” Michael says, voice strained. “I’m fine. I’ve had plenty of close calls over the years.” “You can't just say that,” Michael starts, voice cracking, “You can’t just say that all casual like it’s nothing.” Alex smiles unexpectedly, “And here I’d thought I’d gone soft.” “What?” Alex’s smile fades, he drops his gaze, the hand clasped in Michael’s shifts to play absently with Michael’s fingers instead. “A few bruises and broken bones, some blood, a little light headed, and I'm babbling to some random doctor about needing you? Never happened before.” “Before?” Michael’s mouth is suddenly dry. “When I nearly died last year,” Alex continues, somehow feeling bold in the knowledge that he’ll blame the pain meds later, and it won’t matter whether Michael believes him. Still, his voice is quiet. “When I nearly died… I wanted you. I wanted you and no one else. But I didn't ask for you. We'd ended off so badly the last time I'd been in town… It wouldn’t have mattered anyways ‘cause my dad was hovering around my hospital bed, pretending like he gave a damn about anything besides another Manes family medal. And even in my drugged-up state I somehow knew I couldn’t ask for you. I couldn’t have what I wanted.” Michael shakes his head, “No,” his voice trembles, “You could’ve. I would have come. You can always call me if you're in trouble. No matter what. And if you think--” “Doesn’t mean I should,” Alex says, cutting him off, “You have your own life. It's not fair for me to--” Michael ignores that, “And if you think you're weak for asking for what you want? For taking what you want? It's the opposite, Alex,” he says forcefully. “You can't just take people, Guerin,” Alex answers softly. “Fine. But you get my point,” Michael says more gently. “And what about if-- what if what I want might hurt me?” Alex counters, voice a little stronger now as he meets Michael’s eyes again. Michael knows he's talking about him, but he takes his chance to steer the conversation far away. “You mean like wanting to go home now, against medical advice?” Alex sighs. “Your doctor asked me to convince you to stay the night for monitoring. And so you could have the good drugs.” “No. I don’t want to sleep here. I don’t want to wake up here.” “You’ll be safe. I’ll be here.” “It’s not that… I just don’t want to be in a hospital.” Michael frowns at him. “Don’t make me crawl in that bed with you,” he says, playing it off as a joke, though desperately hoping Alex will take him up on it, knowing it will make them both feel a little safer, despite everything. Alex's heart clenches. He hates how weak he feels for wanting Michael to do just that. He hates the thought that Michael might be doing it out of guilt. But he doesn’t care. Earlier this morning he got jumped by three guys and thought they were going to kill him - and now he wants to be held. That, he wouldn’t hold against himself. That he wants it to be Michael and only Michael? Fuck. He wants it. He still won't say it. “You can’t,” Alex tries instead. “Why?” “Maria.” Now is not the time to tell Alex about the breakup, Michael decides, rightly or wrongly. “Maria drove me here while I freaked out, and then she ordered me to get my ass into this room and cuddle you, so…” “Oh.” “Yeah. So I’m going to put this railing back up, first…” which Michael does, before walking around to the other side of the bed, kicking off his boots, and taking off his belt, which he knows from experience does not make for comfortable snuggling. The bed dips as Michael crawls in, spooning behind Alex. It’s cramped, but they’re a little bit used to it from the airstream, like never fading muscle memory. Alex's hospital gown gapes open at the back, and Michael can see a long bandage running up Alex’s back, the bottom disappearing under the sheets, and the top ending at Alex’s shoulder blade. There are bruises everywhere; it looks like he got kicked a few times. Michael’s anger threatens to boil to the surface again - a fury that could start an earthquake - but he touches Alex with such a gentle caress, hot fingers ghosting over Alex’s bare skin, and nothing could be more disparate. He wishes Max were alive so Alex could be healed, so he wouldn’t have to suffer. Much as it hurts to move, Alex sinks back into Michael, seeking his warmth. Michael does his best to arrange himself to envelope Alex without putting pressure on any of his injuries - it’s a tall order. “I'm surprised the doctors bought your fall down the stairs story,” Michael says, breath tickling the back of Alex’s neck as he speaks. “They didn't really…” Alex admits, “Especially the old guy. Asked me a ton of questions. He’s a real meddler.” “I dunno. I kind of liked him.” “Me too.” ~~~~~ The next morning, they take a cab to where Alex had left his car. On the hour and a half drive back to Roswell, Alex explains what he’s been investigating, why he’d taken a trip to this town, how he thinks his assailants found him, and what they want. “Why are you doing this? There’s no reason for you to risk your life for this shit. It’s not even your job, it’s like it’s your hobby!” Michael half shouts at Alex. “There are things in this world that aren’t right! Things I can expose,” Alex barks back. “Dammit, Alex, you’re too brave and righteous and smart for your own good,” Michael says through gritted teeth, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Alex slumps against the window, exhausted. “Just drive, Guerin. Please.” Michael does mostly only that, when he’s not trying to convince Alex not to go back to his cabin where he’ll be easy to find. “If they wanted to kill me, they would have,” Alex reasons, when Michael tries one more time as they pull up the driveway. “Thanks, that makes me feel much better,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as he puts the car in park. Michael gets out and goes around to help Alex. With a broken arm on the same side as his bad leg, and missing his prosthetic, the crutch the hospital gave Alex is pretty useless. It had been fine for keeping up appearances as Michael had helped him both physically and, secretly, with the aid of his powers, from the wheelchair into the cab, and the cab into Alex’s car. But now there is no audience. “I can just float you to the door this time,” Michael offers, as Alex slides off the seat and tries to balance on the ground. “Um, sure…” Alex says, but immediately regrets it as the strange sensation of floating hits him again. He grabs at Michael’s arm. “Actually, I think I’d rather hold on, like before.” They make their way into the cabin, Alex clinging tightly to Michael’s side, the crutch floating aimlessly behind them. Michael settles Alex in his bedroom, following Alex’s instructions to dig out his old prosthetic from the closet. Alex says it’s too big - it had to accommodate swelling - and he’ll have to make some modifications, so Michael leaves him to it and goes to make them some food. Michael is just turning off the stove when he hears a crash from down the hall. He drops everything and runs towards the noise. He finds Alex crumpled on the ground, next to his crutch and a large painting that been pulled out of its bearings when Alex had lost his balance and reached out blindly at the wall for support. “Alex! Are you okay?” Michael calls out as he rushes to his side, “Why didn’t you wait for me to come help you?” “Because you’re not always going to be here!” Alex shouts at him, lashing out, pushing Michael away with his uncasted arm, yelping as he makes contact and quickly pulling his arm back and drawing it against his body protectively. Alex’s push was nothing. Michael moves two feet away entirely of his own accord, recognizing his touch isn’t welcome right now. “Alex--” he starts slowly. “Stop! Just stop. Just leave me alone,” Alex cries at him. “Alex, please, let me help you. Just tell me--” “No! I know how you feel about me. And that’s nice for you that you can lock that away and move on. But I can’t. I couldn’t even be angry properly. So I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed. I failed miserably,” his voice is still shaking, but it softens, “So thank you, for coming to hospital. I appreciate that I can call you, I do. But you, here? Cooking at my fucking stove? Helping me? It just hurts. Knowing you’re going home to her? So just go. I’m asking for what I want. Go home.” The obstacle of Maria has acted like a protective layer between them, making sure nothing can happen, no lines get crossed, bad habits avoided. He knows it’s time to shed that shield. “Maria and I broke up,” Michael says gently, “We broke up because my home is you. Always been you. Always gonna be you.” There is resignation in his voice, but no hint of regret. “I understand if that doesn’t change anything right now, and you still want me to go…” But Alex’s face does change as he takes in Michael’s words, a glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes so bright that Michael almost panics, until he hears a quiet voice inside his head, calling to him with an unfamiliar name that used to be his. Hope is not the enemy. “Guerin?” Alex calls to him softly, because Michael’s eyes have lost focus and gone impossibly wide. Alex then tries to pull himself to sit up and lean against the wall. He regrets it immediately. “Fuck!” he gasps out a sob. Everything hurts. “Michael,” he whines. That broken sound from Alex’s throat snaps Michael out of it. He scurries over to Alex, touching him gingerly as he checks him over. “Shit, I think you ripped your stitches,” he says as he observes blood on the back of Alex’s shirt, “And this wrist might be broken...” The dam breaks. Hot tears, sharp of pain and bitter of frustration stream down Alex’s face as he buries into Michael. “It’s going to be okay,” Michael whispers against his hair, pulling Alex in as tightly as he dares considering his injuries, “Do you want to go to the hospital? Or should I call Valenti?” A sob. Michael feels a surge of emotion. Alex is breaking his heart, and not in the way that he’s used to. His hand on Alex’s newly-broken wrist feels suddenly hot. Then there’s the telltale glow. “Holy sh--” Michael starts, shocked, then too mesmerized to even finish the sentence. Alex knows what’s happening, but also, what the fuck? It takes a few seconds for it to really register with either of them. Then, Alex feels a twitch in his leg and-- “Stop! Stop!” Alex shouts, pulling away, because they could never do it - there’s no point in even knowing if it’s possible. It takes Michael a moment to catch up and let go. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t even know I--” “No, no, it’s fine. I feel good. It’s good,” Alex smiles as he mentally surveys his injuries, and finds they’ve vanished, “It just started to feel weird is all.” It’s not a lie - it did feel weird. “We’ve got to call Isobel and Liz and tell them I-- ‘m gonna be sick.” Michael barely gets the words out before he pukes. They make quite the pair, Michael too woozy to stand, Alex with a now-pointless cast on his arm and his old, ill-fitting, prosthetic abandoned. Together they crawl down the hallway to the washroom. Alex pulls a jumbo bottle of nail polish remover out from the very back of his sink cabinet. It’s too heavy to even comfortably hold up to drink. “Why’d you ‘ve that?” Michael slurs out between heaves into the toilet as Alex strokes his back. “So I’d be prepared… maybe helpful, even, if you ever got in some trouble. You know... in case you asked for me."

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here: Interlude (History)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 4600

Rating: M. Language, and that’s it. 

Author’s Note: I don’t own Billy’s character. I’m just writing this for fun.

This chronologically takes place after chapter 12. It needed to be written, but I didn’t want it to be a chapter of the main story, just inserted to build the relationship more. I may do more of these excerpts down the road, but we’ll see. 

Parts 1-12 can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)!

Summary:  Billy Russo doesn’t know how to take care of someone else, but he’s going to try. 

** 14 months out from the events of  DD S2 **

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @dylanobrusso @ilkaeliseb@editboutique @marauderskeeper @delicatelilyflower @drinix @likethetailofacomet @king4thesirens @ymariejp @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ethereal-heavcns @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @zaffrenotes @audreychaz @jovialyouthmusic @yesixoxo@blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @swiftyhowlz @introvertedlibrary @littlemermaidprobz @ladyblablabla @writing-for-achance 

Roughly 16 weeks after Billy’s return home

He hadn’t had a chance to check his messages until after he’d finished with his last client of the day, but Billy was worried because you weren’t answering your phone. He’d texted back, tried calling… even tried FaceTime, knowing that you could never turn down a video call with him. But there had been no response, which surprised him. He didn’t like to admit it, but you were on his mind a lot these days, and lack of contact - especially from you - was concerning. Your series of unanswered texts had started at noon with a simple “Hey you” followed twenty minutes later with “Guess you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi.” A little after 1 pm, you’d sent a third message. “I’m not feeling the greatest, I’m thinking of leaving work early.” He knew how much you hated ducking out of work, and he’d been surprised. Bet she went home and fell asleep. Billy sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his floor’s button in the elevator. I’ll take a quick shower and head over there, make sure she’s OK.

 He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside, ready to flip the light switch but paused almost immediately. Someone’s in here. Shutting the door quietly, Billy moved to the kitchen, opening the smallest drawer and grabbing his gun, holding it loosely at his side as he moved through the apartment, his attention focused. Bedroom. Finger hovering near the trigger, Billy slowly approached his partially open bedroom door, hearing a rattling sound that grew louder as he got closer. What the hell? He stopped a foot outside of the door, peering around the frame and into the room - which was darker than the rest of the house, as the blinds were completely closed. Oh shit. He froze as he realized what he was looking at - the pile of blankets on his side of the bed wasn’t an intruder… it was you. She used her key for the first time.

 Relaxing his grip on the weapon, Billy took a deep breath and frowned as he stepped into the room, placing the gun on top of his dresser. “Hey.” He spoke quietly, not wanting to startle you and although he could only see the shape of you under what looked like every blanket in his house, he smiled. “Making yourself at home?” He heard you groan as he approached the bed, sitting down on the edge and reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “You alright?” It took a moment, but you pulled the blankets down enough to peer at him in the semi-darkness, and Billy was shocked at how pale your skin was, how glazed your eyes looked. “Jesus, do you need to go to the hospital?” You shook your head slowly twice, staring at him. She looks awful.

 “‘ I… ‘m sorry, I just wanted… I thought that since your bed would smell like you, I’d feel better, even if you weren’t here. I must have fallen asleep.” She wanted to… I’d make her feel better? Your voice was weak and a little hoarse, and Billy immediately felt worse, but at the same time better. I’ve never… she’s…  “My germs are all over now, I shouldn’t have…” You coughed, squeezing your eyes shut and Billy froze at the sound - it was a wet, thick cough. “I don’t feel good, Billy.” Without hesitation, he reached out, flipping his hand to press the back of it to your forehead. Hot. She’s got a fever. “Felt fine this morning, but…” Another cough. “Chest hurts. Head hurts. I’m hot.” You cleared your throat, blinking a few times before closing your eyes. “But I’m so cold.”

 “You’re always hot.” He grinned, but when the joke didn’t get any response from you, he frowned. “You should go to the hospital, or to a Minute Clinic or somethin’, you don’t look good. I mean, you look sick, not that you don’t look good, because you do, I’m just...” You shook your head, opening your eyes again and looking at him.

 “No.” You drew your knees up to your chest - he watched the blankets move as you curled up into a ball. “I took medicine at work already, I just want to sleep, I…” You coughed again, and Billy stared at you, helplessly. “I was going to get food on my way here, but I was too…” You trailed off. What do I do? Go get food? Make her go to the doctor? I don’t know…

 “I can go get you food, just tell me what you want.” He reached out again, putting his palm against your cheek, thumb moving slowly over the skin beneath your eye as you automatically leaned into his touch. “Whatever you want.”  You didn’t respond, and Billy just stared at you as he listened to your breathing even out, though it still sounded… well, wet, and slightly wheezy. Damn. What the hell do I do?  “I’ll be back, OK? I’ll go get you soup or somethin’, somethin’ warm and…” As he pulled his hand away, your eyes shot open again and his name left your lips weakly.

 “Billy...no. Don’t leave. Please.” You coughed again, moving your arm under the blanket as if trying to push yourself into a sitting position and Billy immediately, responded, leaning back in, his hand moving down to your shoulder to keep you from getting up. For once in my life, someone needs me and is trusting me to take care of them.  

 “Hey, no. Just stay here.” You stopped, still staring up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes locked on yours. Ok, so I order. “I’ll go order something for you, it’ll just take a minute or two, OK?” You sighed but settled back onto the bed, muttering under your breath about how much you hated being sick. He leaned down without a second thought and pressed his lips to your cheek and then to your forehead, the second kiss lingering against your feverish skin. “Then I’ll come back and take care of you, I promise.” You sighed again, the corners of your lips curving upward slightly.

 “Ok, Russo.” You swallowed and he stood, sliding off of the bed. By the time he stepped out of the bedroom, he had his mouth set in a firm line. I’m going to take care of her. He looked around, tapping his foot against the floor, thinking. What first? Billy took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He bit his lip as he stared at the screen, completely at a loss. No one had ever cared for him while sick - it had all been up to him, and his idea of “recovery” was hoping that each morning when he woke up, he’d miraculously gotten better overnight. That wasn’t going to cut it with you, though - Billy had a chance to truly help, but in order to do so, he needed some help.

 He took a deep breath and thumbed through his contacts before pressing the call button. One ring. Two. Three. When he heard a voice on the other end of the line, Billy finally sighed, sinking down onto the couch, his eyes closing and his free hand moving to the back of his neck. “Hey, Maria… I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help. What do you… what do you do when someone’s sick?”

---

Ten minutes later, Billy was back in the bedroom, listening to your breathing as you slept. Maria had advised him that it would be a good idea to get you into warmer clothes, and to ensure that you were drinking fluids. “Lisa came home from school yesterday and said she felt crappy, too.  Sounds like the same thing. Might just be a 24 hour bug, could be broncihitis.” Billy had leaned back on the couch, his eyes still closed as Maria spoke, mentally going through what was in his cabinets. “She needs to eat. She needs sleep. She needs… Bill, she needs to not be alone. It helps. Just do what feels right.”

 After hanging up with Maria and placing a call into his favorite deli for soup and sandwiches, Billy had made his way into the bathroom, gathering up the medication that he had on hand - non-drowsy Robitussin, some cough drops, Advil Cold and Sinus - along with a bottle of cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the edge of the sink. She needs me. Someone needs me. Blinking in the harsh light from the over-vanity fixture, Billy sighed. Maria’s words had comforted him, but he knew it was likely going to be a long night. He’d shot a text to his boss, explaining that his girlfriend was sick, a smile on his lips even as he typed the word, and said that he likely wouldn’t be in the following day.

 Billy moved quietly in the dark, reaching into his drawers and pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and a hoodie before he stripped his clothes off, stretching. “Not fair.” He turned to the side, one eyebrow raised at the you-sized lump in his bed. “I feel like shit and you’re nearly naked in front of me.” There she is. You coughed again and Billy bent down, tugging one of the pairs of pants up over his legs, settling them low on his waist before he walked to the bed, the rest of his clothes in hand.

 “We’re gonna get you changed.” He nodded, watching as you pulled the blankets down, revealing that you were still in your work clothes. “That’s what I thought.” He smiled at you, reaching out to touch your face again and you smiled weakly back. “I ordered us some dinner, too. But… it’s going to be a while, they’re down a delivery guy, and they said close to two hours.” You nodded, still staring up at him. “Can you stand?” With a deep sigh, you nodded again, and he reached out, pulling the heavy pile of blankets down more. “Hold on.” Billy stood, holding his arms out to you and you placed your hands in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. She’s burning up.

 He made quick work of your clothes, waiting until you’d braced your hands on his shoulders as he bent down to pull the pants up your legs, thumbs gently running up the sides of your thighs, his lips pressing to your abdomen briefly before he stood. “Hmm, Billy.” Your voice was quiet but pleased, and as he was much closer to you, he heard the congestion in your chest with each breath you took. You took the hoodie from him, slowly putting it on, but allowed him to tug the hem of it down, completely covering you again. As if the entire interaction had drained you, you sat back down on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with the saddest eyes in the world - at least in his mind. “I hate being sick, Billy.” Swallowing, you shook your head. “I felt fine this morning.” He sat next to you, reaching out for the medication that was on his nightstand.

 “Well. I called Maria, and asked what I could give you.” He picked up the water, twisting the cap off and handed it to you. “Drink.” You took a long sip, and he watched as you swallowed it. “She said you could double up on the Robitussin and the Advil. She and Frank do it all the time.” You laughed - weakly, which caused another coughing fit, and Billy wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you toward him. “You’ll be OK.” You sighed. “Medicine first, and then I’ll cover you back up -”

 “Will you stay with me?” He nodded without thinking, leaning over to press his lips to the top of your head.

 “Of course. I’m not… I’m not the best at taking care of people,  but I’ll stay. Anythin’ you want.” He poured you a capful of the Robitussin and handed it to you, using the spare moments to shake out a dose of Advil into his palm, which you took from him, too. The medicine taken, you took another long drink of water before handing him the bottle. “OK, back under the blanket.” You nodded gratefully as Billy stood, waiting until you’d stretched out to pull the blankets back up around you - but not all of them because you were about to have something warm that you hadn’t previously: his body next to yours.

 Billy slid into bed next to you, slipping under the blanket and putting his arms around you as he propped himself up on the pillows. You moved closer to him, and he felt your hot cheek against his chest and heard you sigh as an arm went around him. It felt different to him, different and much more personal than any other interaction with a woman had before. Not only were you in his bed, wearing his clothes, but you were with him, dependant on him, waiting and hoping that he could make things better for you. Both of you were silent for long minutes and he listened to your breathing as it changed - your upper body was elevated slightly, and it sounded as if you were breathing easier. Good. “I…” You swallowed, and he felt your fingers moving across his chest, stroking absently against his skin. “Tell me something about you, Billy. I just… I wanna hear your voice.” She’s not usually like this, she must be really out of it. He thought for a few moments and then cleared his throat.

 “So I’m not good at… this.” He paused. “I’ve never had a … girlfriend to take care of, and no one really… when I was younger, it was just me, you know? No one was there to hold my hand in the group home, and the few homes I was placed in weren’t much better.” You sighed, but didn’t speak, scooting closer to Billy and hooking one of your legs over his so that there was no space left between you at all. He tightened his hold on you. “I never thought I’d… You bein’ here, askin’ me to do this for you, it’s really… you trust me.” Humming in agreement, he felt you nod against his chest. “I like that. I like that you trust me.” His eyes scanned the room, locking on the gun that was still on top of his dresser. Despite everything, even the things I did over there.

 “I didn’t know it was you in here, when I first got home.” He scoffed. “But when I saw that it was, it made me happy. You didn’t feel good, and you came to me to make it better. I never had that. I never had anyone to go to before. Maybe Frankie and Maria, but…” He trailed off, realizing that your breathing had evened out, your shivering less pronounced. “But never like this. You can come to me whenever you need, and I’ll be there for you. I’m here.” He swallowed, feeling a lump rising in his throat. She’s sleeping, keep talking. “I know what you did for me when I was drunk. I know that you took care of me and listened to me tell you about Megan and my first…” He sniffed, remembering the dark haired girl’s disdain for him as he disappointed her, the speed at which she’d told the story to the other teens in the home. “And you didn’t laugh. You… tried to make me feel better.” Billy closed his eyes, feeling tears begin to well in them. Crying, Russo? She’s good to you and it makes you want to cry? “There was nothin’ in it for you at that point, you didn’t even... We hadn’t even kissed more than that first night, and you already knew. You already knew what you thought ‘bout me. I shoulda known then, you know?”

 He looked down as you cleared your throat, but your eyes were closed. “That wasn’t even the first time you did somethin’ nice for me. You came when I asked you to with Kate, and we hadn’t seen each other in almost a month. We barely knew each other, and I... “ He took a deep breath. “I called you because I… liked you, and I wanted to see you again, but knew if I invited you out, you’d say no.” He stopped, looking down. “I thought you’d say no. But now I think I was wrong.” Was I? Would you have actually gone out with me back then? You tried so hard to just be my friend. “I wanted you.” He licked his lips, using his palm to rub your arm through the material of his hoodie. “And you were just out of reach, so I broke a rule, even back then. I… was your friend. And it… it was… worth it.” You sighed and Billy did, too. “We got here, to this point, and you keep… you keep proving over and over that I am worth something.”

 “Y’are, Billy…” You were whispering, and Billy froze, realizing that though he’d thought you were sleeping, you had in fact been awake for at least some of the conversation. “Worth every minute.” You turned your head, kissing his chest just below his collarbone. “I keep telling you…” You trailed off, and he felt himself growing warmer, trying to take in your words. He knew you cared, and he’d told you that he cared about you, too, but this was different. You had no reason to conceal your emotions - and he didn’t even know if you were able to. She means it. He shook his head, removing one arm from you and bringing his hand back up to run through his hair.

 “And even with Anvil, you’ve been… I donno, so supportive and so willing to just help me, to be there for me, to…” He licked his lips, lowering his face to your hair and inhaling. “I want Anvil. I want it bad. And you keep reminding me, keep pushin’ me forward. You…  I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve someone like you in my life, and yet here you are.” He closed his eyes and went silent. After the bank had turned him down, you’d been just as supportive as ever, trying to help him figure out ways to raise the money, to change the perception of the bank, to come up with ways to reach out to the community and gain support. “You believe in me. You.. always have.”

 “Someone has to.” You took a deep breath, tightening your hold on Billy, clearing your throat before you spoke. “You’re not alone, Billy Russo. You might think you are, but…” You laughed again, the sound still weak but he heard you in it. “As soon as you caught my eye at that dinner, Billy, you had me.” No I didn’t. I didn’t have you until I proved that I wanted something different from you. They were both silent for a few minutes, your breathing the only thing he could hear in the room. “You’re good at this.” He looked down, noticing that you’d opened your eyes and were staring at him. Though there was very little light coming in from the living room, he could see enough.

 “At what?” You raised an eyebrow. “At taking care of you?” A small nod, and he just shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “Nah. I’m just… tryin’ to think about what I’d want someone to do for me.” Talking about your failures? Real nice, Bill. He could almost hear Frank’s voice in his head, and Billy smiled at the thought, a radiant smile that he knew would melt you - and it seemed to work, because he felt you inhale sharply, eyes never leaving his. “Warm and fuzzy isn’t my style, it’s kinda hard to -”

 “Tell me some...something about your mom.” Billy froze. What? “I know you were really young, Billy, when she… when you went into the system.” He nodded, his heart still beating rapidly. “But you have to remember, there has to be something that you held on to.” You coughed, finally tearing your eyes away from his for a moment as you brought your hand up to cover your mouth. “Just something, Billy. Even something small.”

 “Why?” He pressed his lips together. “Why d’you wanna know?” I don’t want to talk about my mother, I don’t… not with you, not … she doesn’t get to taint this. “I don’t -”

 “There has to be something good, Billy.” You cleared your throat. “One good thing, one… memory that got you through the foster homes and the bullshit.” I… He was silent, eyes again focused across the room as he thought. It’s not really… we’ve been together for four months, but she’s been my friend for… there’s not…. Goddammit. “Forget it, Billy. I’m sorry.” You took another deep breath, the wheezing louder and Billy tightened his arms around you again. Without prompting, a memory popped into his head and he felt his chest get tight. Fuck me, I haven’t thought about this… Billy took a deep breath and swallowed, moving one of his hands up to press the fingers of his hand against the back of your neck, thumb tucked behind your ear.

 “So.” He licked his lips and took a deep breath, sweeping his thumb slowly back and forth as he leaned down, cheek pressed against the side of your head, lips close to your ear. “So when I was real little…” Are you doing this? “I had Chicken Pox when I was six or seven.” Your hold on him tightened, and Billy continued. “Carla… my mo...mother was already hooked on whatever by then, but she had moments, and that was one of ‘em. I didn’t have any spots above my shoulders, so...” His chest tightened, and Billy’s thumb stopped moving for a moment, then started again, accompanied with his fingers lightly dragging back and forth over the skin of the back of your neck.

 You hummed quietly, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the movement. “She used to… she used to pull me onto her lap, and run her fingers over the back of my head and neck like this, just… holdin’ me and whispering into my ear, tellin’ me that I’d feel better soon.” He felt the tears leaking from his eyes but did nothing to stop them, not wanting to break the contact with you or stop the story. It feels good to tell her this, to talk about Carla. He turned his head a little more, his lips hovering over your ear. “Just like this. She’d say ‘I’m right here, William. I’m right here and you’re going to feel better soon.”

 He lowered his lips to the side of your head, fingers still moving. Though he wanted to keep talking, he allowed himself a few moments to think of his mother without anger or bitterness - just remembering her, remembering the smell of her Estee Lauder perfume - roses and jasmine and sandalwood - remembering her voice and the way that her eyes had sparkled as she watched Billy play in their small front yard, all knobby knees and scraped elbows, remembered the way that she’d hold him and comfort him before the drugs had taken over her life and she’d left him alone with the memory of a mother that he tried to forget. 

Forgetting’s easier. Rememberng is hard.  He exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut and remembered the feeling of being left alone, of feeling worthless and useless and sick to his stomach, feeling pain and sickness and fear. Sure, there were good memories, memories that stuck with him throughout his life and influenced his subconscious actions and behaviors, but there were bad ones, too - and those often won out in his mind, dictating the way that he lived his life. But I have a choice now, even though I didn’t then. And I choose her. This. Us.

 “I’m right here.” He was whispering and his own voice was unsteady, but Billy continued, along with continuing to move his fingers against your overheated skin, over and over and over. “I’m right here and you’re going to feel better soon.”

---

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ -- Peter Parker fanfic (1/of many)

A/N: As you already know, MCU sometimes could be confusing so I'm doing my best to adapt the story to what happened in the movies. The story happens before Civil War and I'm not planning on ending it ٩(^ᴗ^)۶The main character has a name but c' mon it's fanfic if you want it to change it to yours, feel free, also that goes for the physique as well. 

They say that the first five seconds when you wake up you don't know who you are, your mind is blank, there are no worries, no memories... but in my case... I always know who I am

Wake up at 5:40 am

Brush teeth and change to yoga pants

Do at least 30 minutes at the treadmill

Shower in less than 12 minutes and change

I started applying some light makeup when the tablet my dad gave me started beeping and flashing blue lights, I touched it and a hologram appeared with a photo I took of my dad eating Doritos.

"Dad?"

"No Miss Stark, it's me, Friday" her calm voice emerges

"oh! good morning Friday... why you have that photo of my dad?"

"good morning Tannie, your father asked me to remind you of today"

"today? what's today?"

"he wants to watch a movie with you while eating dinner"

"Great! yes, thanks for the reminder... wait... what movie?", I said while putting my earrings and some bracelets

"he told me to tell you that it's one of the best movies in the history of cinema"

"I hope he's not talking about The Hangover or The Hangover 2" I took my small purse ready to leave and have some breakfast

"If it helps he never told me the name of the movie Miss Stark"

I stopped in front of the tablet "Friday, don't be so formal with me please I told you to call me T, Jarvis used to call me like that too"

"I'm sorry, formality is integrated into my system, I'll change it"

"Thanks, oh and mom is still asleep?"

"let me check" I waited some seconds "yes, I detect a thermal figure in the bed"

"Thank you Friday" I exited my room and went to the kitchen

I prepared some scrambled eggs with toast, I took the overnight oatmeal I prepared and chopped some fruit, the complex seemed incredibly quiet without the cavemen and with cavemen, I'm referring to Thor, Steve, usually Sam, Clint, and even my own dad. I heard one of the doors open and my mom came with a sleepy face.

"Mom, hey!"  I speak quietly "I prepared coffee for you"

She gratefully smiled and grabbed it and walked close to me "thank you honey" she yawns and gave me a kiss on my temple  "you even prepare breakfast?"

I just smile in response and offered her a plate for her to start eating, I started eating too.

"so... what are you doing today?" she grabbed the newspaper, flickering her eyes and started reading the headlights

"not much actually, in an hour I need to go to Midtown to bring in some papers for my file and I need to speak to Morita as well"

"why? is everything okay?" her drowsy voice stops and she lifts her eyes to me with a concerned expression

"yes, it's because I want to join a club and I need more info about it"

"club? dance? drama?" she smiles showing her subtle dimples

"mom... no, I mean yes... I do love dancing and drama but that's not my path. It's robotics lab's club" I proudly smile at her

"wow, honey, you'll do amazing I mean it!" she smiles and holds my hand  "actually I'm not surprised, I mean since you were this tall you spent hours beside your dad just looking how he built all of his stuff"

"yeah he is partially responsible for me liking robotics and I believe that I can build something that helps society" I felt my exciting going up just thinking about it

"oh dear, your eyes just lit up just saying that...just like your dad" she stared at me and then went back eating

"by the way mom, where is everyone? is seldom quiet?" I quickly started eating

"ha! I know right? I believe they're at the gym? or maybe saving the world?"

"well wish them luck...mmm now I have to go but I'll be here in less than two hours max" I kissed her cheek and place the dish in the sink, with a final wave I walk to the lift

"bye baby!" she yells

I patiently waited to be downstairs, when I got to the street I saw Happy already waiting... probably my mom texted him I was going out, I saw my bike, that I never use,  just on the other corner and tiptoed to it...

"Tannieeeee" Happy says with a warning tone, I stop in my track and spin to look at him

"hey, Happy! how are you today you seem happy" I winked at him and he chuckles but quickly his lips are a fine line

"what are you doing? huh?"

"I'm going to Midtown and taking my bike" I innocently smile at him fluttering my lashes

"good try Tannie but you can't do that" he points a finger at me and I roll my eyes

"please geez, Happy, it's just going there and returning here I can even send you a text when I get there"

"what's your name?" he suddenly asks

"what? Tannie..."

"your whole name..." he now rolls his eyes at me

"Tannie Maria Stark," I chant without a clue of what he's talking about

"oh! yes! Stark! the daughter of a billionaire man who happens to be Iron Man and best friends with other Avengers, right?" he exclaims and I sigh in defeat

"a'right got your point Happy, happy?" I step into the car feeling the leathered seats and Happy closes the door behind me

"very much so, yes" he says when he climbs inside the driver's seat

The drive was fast given how the traffic is on New York, Happy left me in front of the school and he made me swear for my whole family that I'll be careful returning to my home and that I need to send him a selfie proving it's me who's texting him. I waved goodbye and looked around, the school without the hormonal teenagers is better, I mean, I'm a teenager, yes, but given the context I was raised in, and probably my mother's genes (not my dad's) I'm more mature than most of the students in Midtown. I entered and walked to the administration office, I quickly gave my documents and walked towards Morita's Office.

"Principal Morita? may I come in?" I knock twice

"please, yes!" he excitedly says and I opened the door seeing him with a tropical shirt and two bags by his side "And Miss Stark, so punctual as always, have a sit please and forgive this dress code but I just returned from THE MOST relaxing place and I still keeping the vibe but I know the vibe will vanish the first day of school, therefore... tomorrow" I kindly smile at him

"so! you wanted to talk about registration to a club?"

"yes, I... want to enter to the Robotics Lab's club and I just wanted to see if I need to submit any previous work or any mmm letter of recommendation?"

"well, Miss Stark let me say I was hoping for the day of you joining and yes a submission of previous work is required but let me tell you that the projects students submit are like machines who feed automatically their pets or back scratchers and I know you are in another level... and letter of recommendation? your own name is the green pass"

That's what I thought...

"well I know but, with all due respect Principal, put yourself in my shoes... I don't want to enter just because of my name..." I confess

"very well, no favoritism I see, tomorrow at the auditorium there are going to be tables each one for each club and you can talk there to the president of the club and put your name on the list" he smiles, the corner of his eyes wrinkled

"perfect, thank you very much that was all I needed" I shake his hand and leave, I see the hallways and sigh, tomorrow will be chaos.

When I left school I breathe the fresh-ish air and started walking to my house, I closely watched everything street life has to offer and suddenly in front of me a man inside a building crashed into the glass window, it seemed like someone pushed him quite hard, I jump back and froze, he quickly grabs his gun and I immediately  hide between a car and a parking machine.

"come here, spidey boy!" I se how he's holding a backpack and suddenly he's kicked again by a flying... no, swinging figure... Spider-Man, I saw one of his videos last week

From where I am, I can only see his back and how he's confining the other man into a tiny corner

"please!- " he punches the man "be nicer " he punches him again "and never steal something!" he finally knocks the man down  "Police is coming! they'll deal with you" quickly he throws a web and literally as a modern Tarzan swings away, I closely watch him... who the hell is that guy?

I quickly stride away from the place and strictly went home, I knew Happy was right, my name is double-edged, I can be easily a target but I do need freedom once in a while. I arrive at the tower and see Happy waiting outside so I checked with him I was alive, of course, without mentioning the incident with the spider-ling thing, he sighs of relief and walks to his car to leave.

-------

Until 6 pm I binge-watched series and prepared some outfits for tomorrow, no sign of the Avengers nor my mom yet, so I grabbed a book and started reading when a smell of food being cooked woke my stomach, I entered the kitchen and smile when I saw Steve's broad back, every single time dressed as an old man... Jesus, help him.

"Hey Tannie! how was your day?" he smiles at me and I walk beside him peering inside the pan

"to ordinary actually, what about you? you left to early and you came so late?" I question him

"yes, some meetings with everyone, nothing else" I sense he was hiding something, these years with him and the others actually helped me to read their body language... well, I'm still trying with Nat... but probably it's for my own sake not to know about it

"well... glad you're here know, my dad is...?"

"at the living room," he points with the spatula

"Thank you and let me say that whatever you are cooking smells wonderful" I playfully grabbed his arm and he laughs and blushes  "Oh my god your arm is so fat, I mean, so fit!" I leave the kitchen and walk to the living room where my dad is talking through the phone

"yes, I know... I'm gonna talk to him okay? yes, bye-bye" he hangs up "My kid! my genes or half of them! How are you?" he loudly exclaims and I giggle throwing my arms to the air

"My dad! the provider of half my genes! I'm fine!" I continue with his joke and he chuckles

"oh, Tannie" he sits on the couch "the fact you share my sense of humor and my sarcasm makes me happy" he touches his arc reactor dramatically

"so... you wanted to watch a movie?"

"yes! yes, I want to!" he cheerfully claps and grabs the remote control to turn the TV on

"please tell me it's not The Hangover... or the second one.." I plea with puppy eyes

He rapidly turns to me with an over-exaggerated sad expression "what is with your hate for those movies? they're a Masterpiece of comedy and total drama!"

"I hope you are joking dad," I settle on the couch and his silence ends the little debate, I watch the screen and see how he's searching for something

"let's enjoy it, shall we?" he settles comfortably on the couch and my eyes dart again to the screen

the black background soon fades to a fast motion of a city"Welcome," a woman's voice says

"you're about to step into a wonderful journey of knowledge that will give you the best advice for having a healthy and harmonious life"

What hell is this?

I turn to look at my dad expecting some answer or saying he chose the wrong movie and with the corner of my eye I see Steve walking towards the TV to check what we're watching and his face changes, he winces. On the other side of the open room I see the big figure of Thor, then Sam, and Clint approaching too.

"Hello, kids! I'm Captain America and I'm so happy to talk to you face to face about some things you need to know about life"

Images of a woman and a man holding hands and kissing appear, my cheeks start to feel hot

"Human relationships are normal and at your age, you start generating hormones that can provoke you some changes, physically and mentally and you need to be prepared! just like I was when I drank the serum!"

Holy shit... it's a sex ed video...

"seriously dad?" I spin my head to him with a red face of embarrassment

"what? shhh, the next part is important" he ignores me so I stand up and walk in front of the TV, avoiding Steve's face

"that? seriously dad? c' mon really?  I... I don't need this video!"

"Okay, we can look for another one but let me tell you... this is the most liberal one" he points out and Steve gently slaps his shoulder

"no! I seriously don't need any kind of video. I totally know everything" I bring my hands to my hips

"oh, really missy? everything? how? huh?" he questions and the eyes of everyone falls on me

I sighed and roll my eyes "mom talked to me during this summer break and she never showed me a video by the way"

"oh ok! that is checked on the list on how to raise a daughter, your mom's the best" his face changes to the 'everything's good in this world and that includes me'  look

"but seriously dad, you really needed to put the video of Steve talking about sex?" I point to the paused video and see how Steve scratches his jaw

"well, I thought it will make you feel comfortable, right? like you are always seeing him and you sometimes play scrabble with him..."

"no, Tony, I don't think that's how it works" Steve steps in  "but come on Tannie, your dad has a point"

"yeah he does kid," Clint says  "I'm rehearsing for when I need to talk to my kids as well... especially Lila"

"I don't know what to say, I never had this on Asgard and look how I turned out!" Thor happily smiles at me and I just shake my head

"well, this is awkward," Sam whispers

"listen T, tomorrow you are starting Sophomore year, parties are wilder, boys are in need of girlfriends and like Cap said! hormones are everywhere, I'm a little concerned here, I'm a very devoted father you know?"

"Okay devoted father... now let me relax you... I have a curfew for parties, I don't drink, I don't have time for boyfriends and I don't need one right now, I have better things to do"

"like?" Sam quickly asks

"I'm joining the robotics lab's club"

"ha! nerd!" Thor starts laughing and Clint slaps his bicep

"yes! there you go, Tony! no need to worry about your daughter... now I'm going to eat because I'm starving" Cliny raises his hands in victory

"see ya! hey Steve save me some" Sam exits the living room and Thor and Steve too, I sit beside my dad

"robotics?" he huffs and smiles "pffff, I'm very proud of you T, seriously, you are like the perfect adolescent"

"thanks?...." I hug him "now please dad just burn that movie, pleaseeeee"

"yes! immediately! on it!"

--------

I finished my day eating cereal in the living room and playing charades with the teaming with Clint and Sam, and beating the sh... and beating Steve and Thor, who are new to pop culture, Finally, I went to sleep or tried to because I'm excited to learn new things... geez, Thor is right I'm a nerd.

A/N: hope you liked it! Also available in Wattpad! https://my.w.tt/sw2CZNdCv1