#sorry but i love so much the way cho just....goes along with them and their weirdness | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Note

what about doing a steve x reader? maybe where the reader gets hurt during a mission by hydra?? just an idea!! xx

He’s Like a Brother to Me

Summary: Pretending to be a couple for a mission is normal, so why is your Captain so upset?

Warnings: being injured on a mission, kissing, a swear word or two

Word Count: 2202

a/n: My first request!! To the anon that requested this, thank you! I hope you like it :) Sorry if it's not angsty enough! I really tried, but once I got this idea in my head I ran with it.

Also! I didn't do my normal tag list since y'all requested to be tagged when I was only writing Criminal Minds fics. Just lmk if you want to be tagged in marvel or CM or both!

"The mission is simple. You two will go to the gala as newly weds, pretend to be interested in more than the charitable events of the evening, figure out the chain of command for the weapons dealing, and put a stop to the weapons dealing assholes." Tony laid out the plan as if nothing could go wrong.

You turned to the super soldier on your left, relieved to find a matching grimace on his face.

"We have to pretend to be a couple?" You asked, turning back to Tony.

"Yes. The invites we secured are for Mr. and Mrs. Farley, so you two will be Mr. and Mrs. Farley for the evening. Any other questions?" Before you could chime in with the 17 questions in your head, Tony kept talking. "I didn't think so. Your clothes have already been dropped off to your rooms, so get ready. You'll have Rogers and Wilson doing surveillance in case anything goes wrong." Without another word, Tony forced you and Bucky out of the room.

"I guess I'll see in an hour, husband." You tried to joke, but your smile didn't meet your eyes.

"Same to you, wife." Bucky's face held a similar expression as you both turned your separate ways to get ready for the gala, trying to put the awkwardness behind you.

You and Bucky have been incredibly close ever since he first came back from Wakanda. You became fast friends since you are both so close with Steve.

It was easier for Bucky to open up to you than he anticipated, and in part it's because you remind him of his sister. Similarly, Bucky is like the older brother you never had. The two of you mesh, in the most platonic of ways.

He is there to tease you about your not-so-secret crush on Steve, and your there to help Sam come up with more annoying nicknames (starBucks being one of your favorite to date).

When it comes down to it though, you look out for each other. Of course, that won't make pretending to be a couple any less awkward.

You and Bucky enter the gala just after 8:00 pm. The large hotel ballroom is lit up by three enormous chandeliers, spaced throughout the room, with small sconces lining the outside walls. There are round tables around the outside of the room, framing a large open space for dancing.

People are mingling in small groups scattered throughout the room, waitstaff wondering around the room in precise lines to ensure anyone who wants a drink has access to one.

With a deep breath, you link your arm with Bucky's, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"We have to at least try to sell it." You whispered in his ear, trying to play it off as a cute couple-y thing. "Even if we'd both rather be anywhere else." That comment earned a laugh, easing the tension from his shoulders.

Steve's voice in your ears refocuses you on the mission. "We just got video feed from the security cameras, so we have eyes on you now." You would have sworn you could hear an unfamiliar strain in Steve's voice as he spoke, but you chalked it up to just being nervous for the mission. "Try to mingle, figure out who's in charge."

Mingling was easier said than done. Every time the two of you tried to talk to anyone, the conversation was awkward and tense. You just didn't know how to answer questions about falling in love with each other. Ultimately, you decided eavesdropping was your best bet. Bucky pulled you to the dance floor, whispering in your ear as he held you, "dancing is the perfect cover for moving around the room."

You nodded your head in response, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing? I said to mingle, not dance." Steve's voice in your ears surprised you. Normally, he'd stay quiet unless he received intel that could help with the mission or noticed something for you to look into.

"We're listening to other conversations, relax punk." Bucky's voice was light as he spun you around, closer to the most suspicious people you've found thus far.

"What time is it happening?" The woman seemed nervous as she checked her watch.

"A few minutes. Relax, we'll meet them down the hall at 8:45." The man was calm and collected as he took her hand, leading her across the dance floor and out of the room.

"Guess that's our cue." You stated the obvious as you and Bucky went to follow them out of the ballroom. The couple turned down a side hallway, pulled out a key card, and entered a room, about halfway down.

You and Bucky made quick work to reach the room, pausing outside to listen in. You heard the couple, along with an unfamiliar voice.

"Do you have them?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

"We do. They're hidden in another room down the hall." the woman again sounded nervous.

"You" the unfamiliar voice must have pointed at someone, "go get them. Your wife will stay here to keep me company. Make it quick, Hydra has more important things to do."

Yours and Bucky's eyes went wide at the mention of Hydra. This mission wasn't supposed to have anything to do with them. Before you could react, footsteps could be heard coming toward the door. You had a few seconds max to figure out a way to hide.

With no other options in sight, you pulled Bucky across the hallway into the world's most awkward kiss. When the door swung open, you pretended not to notice, too lost in your "relationship" to care.

The man you saw earlier walked a few doors down before entering another room. You pulled back from Bucky, wincing slightly at the expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to do to make it look like we weren't listening..." You trailed off.

"No, no it's fine. It was the only option." Bucky cleared his throat, still slightly dazed and very thrown off.

"Could the two of you stop staring at each other and get back to work?' Steve's voice was again present in your ears, and this time he was definitely angry.

"Right! Right, of course. Let's go." You awkwardly pushed off the wall, moving down the hallway to the room you saw the man enter. On the count of three, you burst into the room together. It was easy enough to over power the lone man in the room, but you and Bucky were still a little shaken up after the kiss. You handcuffed him to the bedpost, taking the key card he used earlier and moving back down the hallway.

After a brief, awkward eye contact, Bucky opened the door with you rushing in behind him. The only two people in the room were the two you heard earlier, making for a fairly easy take down.

"Cap, we got 'em. Two in room 217 and one in room 223." You started to fill him and Sam in, unsure if they still had eyes on you. At that exact moment, three more Hydra agents ran in from an adjoining room, catching you off guard.

You yelped when the gun went off, surprised at the sudden noise after thinking the mission was over. You and Bucky managed to take down the three agents without much more difficulty.

"Scratch that Cap, five in room 217." You again began filling him in, but the room started spinning. Your voice was wavering when you collapsed, the last thing you heard a mixture of Steve's voice in your ear and Bucky's in person calling your name.

"Y/N!" Then everything faded to black.

"What the hell happened in there?" Steve and Bucky were standing just outside of the med bay. After you collapsed, Bucky realized you had been shot in the stomach. While other Shield agents came to collect the men you had stopped, Bucky carried you to the quinjet, meeting a pissed looking Steve at the door.

The two didn't talk at all during the short flight back to the compound. It wasn't until you were in the med bay receiving medical attention that Steve rounded on Bucky.

"There was never any indication that more agents were there. They caught us off guard! I didn't even realize she had been shot until after we had them contained." Bucky was beating himself up. He let his guard down, still trying to get over the lingering weirdness of you kissing him.

"Caught you off guard? Buck-" Before Steve could yell anymore, Dr. Cho came out to talk to them.

"Y/N will be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but she should recover relatively quickly. She'll likely wake up in the next half hour." Dr. Cho got straight to the point, trying to ease the nerves of the two super soldiers.

"Thank you so much. Thank you!" Bucky called over his shoulder as he ran into the room, planting himself by your side. He may be weirded out by the kiss, but he knows you were too. You're still like a little sister to him, nothing could stop him from being there for you when you wake up.

Steve followed Bucky into the room after thanking Dr. Cho and briefly discussing the timeline for your recovery.

"As I was saying. Caught you off guard? I've never seen you caught off guard before." Although he was whispering so as not to disturb you, his words were nearly venomous. "The two of you let your feelings get in the way of this mission."

The look of guilt already present on Bucky's face multiplied tenfold. "You think I don't know that? I should've seen it coming. If I wasn't distracted I could've stopped them before Y/N got hurt."

You woke up at some point, hearing Bucky blame himself. Instantly, you wanted to ease his worries. "Hey," the two men turned to you, concern clear on their faces. "It wasn't your fault, Buck. I was just as distracted. Neither of us saw it coming, even though both of us should have. It doesn't matter though, because we got them, and I'll be fine." You sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in your abdomen.

"How can you say that? Of course it matters! You could have died, all because Bucky was too busy making heart eyes at you to-" Steve's words were cut off by identical sounds of laughter from you and Bucky.

"Heart eyes?! Oh my god, that's hilarious." You stuttered out the words between laughs. Steve look so confused, you couldn't help but laugh at his cute expression.

Every time you thought you were done, one look at either Bucky or Steve had you laughing again. "Oh god, make it stop! It hurts to laugh!" You pouted slightly, begging Bucky to stop laughing and Steve to change his expression.

Finally, Bucky reined it in enough to speak. "I was distracted because Y/N like a little sister. It's definitely a bit distracting to feel like you just kissed your sister" You and Bucky each made a face of disgust as you looked at each other.

Meanwhile, Steve had a look of complete shock on his face. "Wh-what? You two aren't ... ya know?”

Again, you and Bucky share looks of disgust. "God, no. He's like a brother to me."

"Yeah, I love Y/N like a sister. I'm definitely not in love with her." Bucky agrees.

Steve's expression is sheepish as he tries to explain himself, "but, but after the kiss you were staring into his eyes like you were in love!"

"We most definitely were not." Mumbling under your breath, you kept talking "his aren't the blue eyes I'd like to lovingly stare into."

Steve was shocked into silence by your statement.

"I think that's my cue to leave." Bucky wore a smug grin as he slapped Steve on the back, uttering a quick "good luck, punk" before leaving.

It was quiet for a minute, neither of you quite sure what to say.

"Who's blue eyes do you want to stare into?" Steve broke the silence, shuffling closer to sit on the side of your bed.

"What?" It took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you said that sentence out loud. "I said that out loud?" You threw your hands up to cover your face, mumbling about being an idiot to delay having to answer.

"You did. So... who's blue eyes?" Steve's demeanor quickly shifted from shy to confident. He slowly moved your hands off your face, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. One look had you confessing all your secrets.

"Yours. It always been yours." He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, leaning in closer to you until your foreheads were touching.

"Let me take you on a date." His words were barely a whisper, the warm air from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

He leaned in closer, barely brushing his lips over yours. "I need words, sweetheart."

You pushed forward, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.

"Yes."

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #requests #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #captain america x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction

456 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 3 years ago

Text

Tony's assistant - Thor

Summary: When Thor meets Tony's new assistant, there's an immediate spark and the flirting begins. Tony goes out of his way to get them together

When Pepper Potts and Tony Stark got married, they decided that having Pepper as his assistant was a little bit of a distraction. That's when you came along. Pepper had hired you to be Tony's new assistant. She new if Tony did the hiring he'd probably accidentally hire the worst person possible.

You were honoured, to say the least. But you didn't expect to have so much work to do. I mean, not only did you have to keep the company in check, but Tony too.

One day, you were running late to work. Unfortunately, your car had broken down so you had to run the nearest bus stop.

Hair tousled.

Cheeks red.

Hands clammy.

The last thing you needed was to be in a meeting with Tony and his coworkers. Or worse. Be late. "I'm so sorry Mr. Stark." You panted, trying to catch your breath. "Car broke down-" "No worries my sweet (Y/N), just take a seat." He happily cut you off, gesturing to an empty seat.

Pepper probably made him a nice breakfast for him to be in such a good mood. You barely noticed the presence of his coworkers as you wiped the sweat off your forehead. Earth's mightiest heroes. That caused the blush on your cheeks to intensify.

You sat down next to a blonde man. Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin. You flashed him a nervous grin before turning back to your boss.

After that meeting, you and Thor always seemed to bump into each other. First it was in the halls. Then he just so happened to be knocking on your office door asking for directions. Directions. To a facility he lived in.

He'd flirt with you, trying to be somewhat subtle. You'd flirt back. Obviously. Who would pass the chance to flirt with Thor? You still hung out with Tony a lot though. You were his assistant. Of course you did.

However that didn't stop Thor from stopping by to see you. "So. You and Point Break?" Tony teased one morning when Thor passed by to give you a warm coffee. It was perfectly made. Just how you liked your coffee. Not too strong for the taste to ruin your tastebuds but enough not to drown in the amount of water.

From that day, Tony tried to set you guys up. Constantly. He would sometimes call Thor to the lab or his office when you were there so you could talk more. He even called Thor over to ask him to drop papers by your office.

Once, it was a file with three papers in it. On the first one was written You're. The second had Welcome. And the last one had a silly smiley face on it.

He did three major moves to get you both together though. At first it was by locking you both in the conference room. But you just talked until Tony got bored and decided to let you out. Then he got you drunk so you'd flirt with Thor or confess your feelings. But it turns out you're the party animal type of drunk.

The last thing he did was gather the team for a game of Never have I ever. That - well. That kind of worked. "Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room!" Boomed Tony with a wide smirk on his face.

You sent him a glare as you reached for your drink. He just winked. That bastard. Anyway, you, Steve, Tony, Maria and Dr. Helen Cho took a drink. 'Of course' You thought.

Everyone knew Helen had a crush on Thor. The only reason she'd join parties was because he'd be there. You couldn't blame her though. You were just like her. Another woman who was helplessly in love with the God.

You heard Thor groan and watched as he took a drink. "Ooh." Tony stated. "Tell us, God of Thunder, who is the lucky woman? Or man?" Thor's eyes flickered over to you before returning to his glass of Asgardian mead.

"It is not of your business, Stark." You looked down, playing with your own drink. Don't get your hopes up, stupid.

"Lady (Y/N)." He muttered some moments later. Woah woah woah. What? Heh, no. Wake up (Y/N)! You gulped. What? The nerves. God. Why is everyone looking at me? 'Turn around!' You yelled to your teammates in your head, knowing they couldn't hear you but you hoped the look you gave them was enough.

Thor got up, leaving the room. "Lady (Y/N)." Tony repeated, mockingly. He said it louder, as if he was demanding something. "Mhm?" "What are you waiting for? Go get your God!"

Then it clicked.

He liked you

Right! You stumbled on your feet, nearly tripping. "Too much alcohol." You mumbled, holding onto Clint's bicep for support.

You found Thor walking out of the building. You ran after him, almost falling on your face a few times because of your heels.

Who were you to blame though?

That man had long legs.

And he had a head start.

"Thor!" The blonde turned around. Yay? You thought about backing out for a moment. A long moment. How could he like you? Wow. Aren't you one lucky woman?

Even though you were a good 7 meters apart, you stopped walking. And just stood. "Umm, hi." He smiled, moving near you. "Lady (Y/N)." "Just (Y/N), please." You spoke quietly. He smiled again. It was a soft smile. Almost sad.

"I - um - I - uh - I like you too." You half expected Thor to turn into Loki and yell that he knew it and go ruin your life by telling Thor who actually didn't like you.

Instead of that actually happening, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you impossibly closer. His rough, calloused hand brushed your hair out of your face. He just observed you for a while.

Then, he pulled your lips to his in a magical kiss. You had to stop yourself from moaning out right there. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of you actually kissing him. You wrapped you arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

"Thank the lord for Tony, right?" He chuckled. "Yes. He has gone out of his way quite a few times to get us together."

Thor rested his chin on the top of your head and you leaned on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Be mine (Y/N)?" "Mhmm."

He laughed. Now you thought he'd turn into Loki. But no. He just picked you up and spun you, bringing his lips back to yours.

160 notes · View notes

sonybees · 4 years ago

Text

random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

193 notes · View notes

vivithefolle · 3 years ago

Note

Is there anyway you could share the entire livejournal essay about Hermione's reaction to Ron coming back in DH? The few paragraphs that you referred to in your recent answer sound extremely interesting.

[The “recent answer” that goes back to... last December. Oh my god I’m such an ass I left you hanging for so long I’m so sorry.]

Okay, okay, so here goes! KEEP IN MIND: I DIDN’T WRITE THIS. I FOUND THIS ON LIVEJOURNAL AND PICKED EVERYTHING THAT I LIKED ABOUT IT, AS WELL AS SOME COMMENTS THAT INTERESTED ME.

This “essay” was actually more of a “reading the books” thing with the person sharing their thoughts and ideas about it. The person was clearly a Snape fan, but they had sympathy for Ron too. I’ll try to formate it as accurately as I can remember it.

And now, here it is:

---

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

[About Ron being made a prefect.] The essayist: It’s sad, but this probably is the first time Ron’s beaten Harry at something. And the last time.

A commenter: Ron's had a really difficult life, and this is the book that proved it for me. It made me a Ron fan. Just look at the interactions he has with Fred and George. This is commonplace. I know a lot of people don't like Ron, but just look at this book, this chapter especially. People have accused Ron of being lazy, unambitious, having no emotions, and being a big stupid boy. It's just not true. Look at how Fred and George needle him out of jealousy. Look at how they treat Percy. Imagine Ron having to grow up with two older brothers that will not hesitate to bother, torture and torment people that stand out or that get more attention than they do or that cross them. He saw it happening with Percy, so what's he going to learn? He'll learn to shut up unless he wants to have something happen to him. He'll learn that standing out positively is rewarded with cruelty. I can understand how Mrs. Weasley could not have fully protected him from those two. Not all the time, not while trying to also care for Ginny, keeping up with her other kids in school, and running the household. Worst of all, punishing F&G doesn't seem to do anything. Those two just don't care/they crave the attention, negative or positive. The best thing she could've done would be to give them no attention, but that's so against her nature that unfortunately she just fed the monsters. No emotions? Is it really difficult to understand that sensitivity wouldn't be encouraged in young Ron? He's got these two bullies that only want a reaction out of him. If he cries, it'll only encourage them. Any reaction is encouraging to them, but he has to go with anger. It's a survival thing- puff yourself up, make yourself look bigger than you are so the predator messes with you a little less. Look at the pride Ron's showing in his badge. The desire to do well is there. He likes the good feeling that comes with it, but he's been hard-wired since birth that it's better to be "middle of the pack". In later chapters, I know you'll have to point out the way the power makes Ron behave, so I just want to start on the defence now. It's all Ron knows. It's all he's been taught. It's a huge character flaw, but it's what makes him so human. Rowling did develop this in the book, but only accidentally. We're never going to get a good look at Ron's psychology except through these hints because it's, as usual, All About Harry. Ron's flawed, but I hope we remember that he has a reason why he's got those flaws. It doesn't excuse him, but it really explains him. So yeah... that's why I defend Ron.

...

“I’m not Percy,’ he finished defiantly.”

The essayist: Mmmm-hm. Ron feels nervous at the thought of his good fortune inspiring anger in someone and what's his first defence? "I'm not Percy"? Man, the evidence that the Twins' psychological torment has left lasting scars on Ron could not have been more obvious if he'd shielded himself and said "Please don't jinx me, Fred! ... I mean Harry. ... Shit, what'd I say?"

...

“Excellent,” said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick. “What were you saying before the Sorting?” Hermione asked the ghost. “About the hat giving warnings?” “Oh yes,” said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm.

The essayist: Ron’s not being very restrained with his eating, is he?

The commenter: I don't know if it's accidental or not, but this is one of those moments that I love, one of the tellings of Ron's home life via his behavior. In this scenario, he's totally a kitten who just got adopted to a house where he's the only cat. He's at a table with food, so his instinct is to eat as fast as he can or his siblings will yoink it. It doesn't help that there are many other people around, encouraging the "get the good stuff fast or you'll have to sate yourself on bread or whatever nobody wants". Ron is so much more human than Harry! How can Harry not be showing any signs of his "horrendous abuse" for eleven years? Well... I guess he sort of does when he buys all that stuff in his first year. And I guess Ron has to go back home every summer where it gets reinforced. But Harry goes back every summer, too... what the hell?

...

“What’s going on?” Ron had appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes traveled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. “He’s having a go at my mother!” Seamus yelled. “What?” said Ron. “Harry wouldn’t do that — we met your mother, we liked her. . .” “That’s before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!” said Harry at the top of his voice. “Oh,” said Ron, comprehension dawning across his freckled face. “Oh . . . right.” “You know what?” said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look. “He’s right, I don’t want to share a dormitory with him anymore, he’s a madman.” “That’s out of order, Seamus,” said Ron, whose ears were starting to glow red, always a danger sign. “Out of order, am I?” shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron was turning paler. “You believe all the rubbish he’s come out with about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he’s telling the truth?” “Yeah, I do!” said Ron angrily. “Then you’re mad too,” said Seamus in disgust. “Yeah? Well unfortunately for you, pal, I’m also a prefect!” said Ron, jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. “So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!”

The essayist: Note how Ron’s first reaction is to side with Harry.

The commenter: Not surprising because of the best friends thing (some might argue) but I say it's not surprising considering how Hermione and Ron were treating Harry like a ticking time bomb. Survival!

...

“Hello, Harry!” It was Cho Chang and what was more, she was on her own again. This was most unusual: Cho was almost always surrounded by a gang of giggling girls; Harry remembered the agony of trying to get her by herself to ask her to the Yule Ball. “Hi,” said Harry, feeling his face grow hot. At least you’re not covered in Stinksap this time, he told himself. Cho seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You got that stuff off, then?” “Yeah,” said Harry, trying to grin as though the memory of their last meeting was funny as opposed to mortifying. “So did you . . . er . . . have a good summer?” The moment he had said this he wished he hadn’t: Cedric had been Cho’s boyfriend and the memory of his death must have affected her holiday almost as badly as it had affected Harry’s. . . Something seemed to tauten in her face, but she said, “Oh, it was all right, you know. . .” “Is that a Tornados badge?” Ron demanded suddenly, pointing at the front of Cho’s robes, to which a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T was pinned. “You don’t support them, do you?” “Yeah, I do,” said Cho. “Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?” said Ron, in what Harry considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice. “I’ve supported them since I was six,” said Cho coolly. “Anyway . . . see you, Harry.” She walked away. Hermione waited until Cho was halfway across the courtyard before rounding on Ron. “You are so tactless!”

The essayist: So Harry meets Cho, makes a complete faux pas and reminds her of her dead boyfriend. Ron quickly steers the conversation away onto something more happy, i.e., Quidditch, before Cho can get too upset. Nevertheless, Ron is apparently the insensitive jerk around here, not Harry.

[If this reminds you of something, then yes, I absolutely took what the essayist was saying and elaborated on it. I confess, I am a dirty thief.]

...

“Well, I suppose he could’ve played better,” Harry muttered, “but it was only the first training session, like you said. . .” Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework that night. Harry knew Ron was too preoccupied with how badly he had performed at Quidditch practice and he himself was having difficulty in getting the chant of “Gryffindor are losers” out of his head. [...] And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again. At half-past eleven, Hermione wandered over to them, yawning. “Nearly done?” “No,” said Ron shortly. “Jupiter’s biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto,” she said, pointing over Ron’s shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, “and it’s Io that’s got the volcanos.” “Thanks,” snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

The essayist: So Ron’s getting basic facts wrong in his essays.

The commenter: This is going to look so contrived, but I genuinely believe it, and maybe after these reviews, your standards for contrived have dropped enough for me to pass the bar :3 But... he's not putting in any effort. His ego can't take another beating at the moment (even punching bags have limits). Imagine it- after the Quidditch humiliation with his friend the Star Athlete (when he really was trying) he tries to distract himself by doing school work 1. which he isn't very good at anyway, 2. with the Star Athlete of Academics/Slytherin Spectator Crowd best friend Hermione there 3. with Hermione there to set it right anyway (it sounds as if Hermione isn’t so much correcting their essays as writing them herself). If he tries his best at this and then fails at that, Ron probably would start to consider suicide. It's self-preservation at this point to put in zero effort. This kind of fail is literally "I'm not trying because I have given up."

...

She wrenched her bag open; Harry thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill, and stood back to admire the effect. “What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity. “They’re hats for house-elves,” she said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag. “I did them over the summer. I’m a really slow knitter without magic, but now I’m back at school I should be able to make lots more.” “You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?” “Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back. “That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You’re setting them free when they might not want to be free.” “Of course they want to be free!” said Hermione at once, though her face was turning pink. “Don’t you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls’ dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats. They should at least see what they’re picking up,” he said firmly. “Anyway . . .” He rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Snape’s essay. “There’s no point trying to finish this now, I can’t do it without Hermione, I haven’t got a clue what you’re supposed to do with moonstones, have you?”

The essayist: This doesn’t seem like a particularly open-minded and enquiring position to take, although I suppose that Hermione’s open-mindedness has always been something of an informed attribute.

The commenter: This trope among fans has got me riled up beyond belief because they use the "Hermione's word is gospel" thing to make unfair assumptions about other characters: Ron's "emotional range of a teaspoon" thing comes to mind, and right after that, Lavender supposedly being silly about believing Trelawney about her dead pet (Hermione never considered that maybe the thing Lavender was dreading was bad news from home or bad news about her pet). Regarding house elves: This is one case where the fans ought to have seen that Hermione was being very thoughtless as far as strategy. Ron has lived all his life up until this point thinking that there was no problem with house elves and she literally expects to be able to just tell him "it's wrong" and he's supposed to change instantly? Talk about your cultural insensitivity. In this case, maybe Ron knows better than you do, Hermione? You didn't even know about house elves until you were at least twelve (but more likely, she didn't know until this year). She must understand the concept of "he doesn't know it's wrong". That was how she defended Crookshanks when he was chasing Scabbers. ... Hey, Hermione thinks Ron's smarter than her cat. That's something, I guess.

...

The commenter: Competition is seriously the worst thing in the world for Ron. He's got wa-a-ay too much baggage. Do well so they'll love you. Do well so they'll notice you. If they notice you, you'll get praised. And tormented by Fred and George. Then if you fuck up, you'll have let everyone down. My brothers never let anyone down. That's the standard. Oh God, I can't live up to that. Which do I want to chose- being ignored or scorned? I could do well. Then I'll be good enough to be called "just like them"! JFC, when's it ever going to be "Good like Ron"? Chess. Literally everyone else has one thing they shine in, even Neville with his Botany and Dean with his art (and... and I'm going to ignore the fact that Hermione and Luna are the only two I can think of with non-appearance based special stuff... someone please help me out? I guess Tonks' doesn't really count as a shallow one because it makes her a master of disguise...)

...

HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

...

Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

The essayist: “Hermione spared [Ron] one look of disdain before turning back to Harry” pretty much sums up her relationships within the trio. It’s no wonder Ron’s so insecure and keeps worrying that she really fancies Harry.

...

“And you’ve been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway...” “You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look,” said Ron, shaking back his sleeves. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

The essayist: Ron’s so adorably pathetic here, the way he’s obviously feeling inferior to Harry and being ignored by his so-called friends. *hugs Ron*

...

When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Remembering what Hermione had said about the Patil twins’ parents wanting them to leave Hogwarts, Harry was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Ron had refrained from doing so after Malfoy had broken Harry’s nose; Hermione, however, looked cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle, and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing Ron good luck.

The essayist: Hermione keeps belittling Ron and doing him down, and reacts quite strongly when he even so much hints at losing interest in her and showing attention to another woman. Can we say “abusive relationship”, anybody?

...

“Harry! Ginny!” Hermione was hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves. “I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck--I mean Witherwings,” she said breathlessly. “Did you have a good Christmas?” “Yeah,” said Ron at once, “pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim—” “I've got something for you, Harry,” said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. “Oh, hang on--password. Abstinence.”

The essayist: Wow, Hermione’s just being so childish here, ignoring Ron when he’s talking directly to her. Incidentally, Ron’s speaking to her like a normal friend, it’s Hermione who’s doing the blanking. Still, I’m sure this argument is all Ron’s fault for daring to go out with another girl. Hermione is totally blameless.

[Just in case: the essayist is being sarcastic, they’re pointing out the double standard of the HP fandom blaming Hermione’s immature behaviour on Ron.]

...

DEATHLY HALLOWS

...

“I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re good enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical. “You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years.” “There have?” asked Harry. Hermione looked exasperated: the expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

The commenter (?): Actually, I thought that Ron was proving the errors in the story. Because he’s right. The eldest brother didn’t die because the Elder Wand had corrupted him (like the One Ring). He died because he was an idiot. He died because he randomly decided to start blabbing about his new toy.

“You talk about wands like they’ve got feelings,” said Harry, “like they canthink for themselves.” “The wand chooses the wizard,” said Ollivander. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.” “A person can still use a wand that hasn’t chosen them, though?” asked Harry. “Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.”

The essayist: Harry’s wand has to think for and protect him because he’s too stupid and incompetent to think for and protect himself! Ollivander’s the expert, and he just admitted it. He said any halfway decent wizard can perform magic with almost any wand. The reason Harry could only work with the holly wand is because of the phoenix feather core it shares with Voldemort’s wand. That is, it wasn’t Harry doing the magic with Harry’s wand! It was the Voldemort soul piece! Once Harry was forced to use wands that didn’t have that core, the soul piece couldn’t do the work for Harry any more. He was forced to rely on his own magical powers and competence, which are clearly minimal. This is proven by his inability to do effective magic with any other wand. It’s also proven by an incident from Philosopher’s Stone. Remember when Harry was being chased by bullies and inexplicably found himself on top of the shed roof? That was the soul piece allowing him to fly like Voldy. Lily could slow her descent from a height, as if she had an invisible parachute, but that is not the same as flying, and we have no evidence she could fly. Only Voldemort and Snape fly without assistance! The evidence is overwhelming that I am right. How many spells can Harry do effectively? Expelliarmus, Expecto Patronum, Protego--that’s it. Even as a young adult, he is incapable of doing the basic healing or cleaning spells a young child should have down pat before going to Hogwarts. Of course, we’re told the Patronus spell is difficult and advanced, but who told us that? Remus Lupin, friend of Harry’s father, sycophant, and notorious liar, particularly when it comes to flattering Harry. Recall Lupin also said Snape didn’t like James because Snape was envious of Potter Sr.’s Quidditch prowess, and we know that was a lie. Given this evidence, anything Lupin says that cannot be confirmed by an independent source, especially regarding the Potters, should be dismissed out of hand. True, Hermione has trouble with the Patronus spell, and she’s super-competent. Doesn’t that prove it’s a very difficult spell? Not at all. To take an example from a different field, Beethoven was a virtuoso organist, the greatest pianist of his day, one of the greatest pianists in history, and probably the greatest improvisational musician ever. But he was only a decent violinist. Everybody has areas of weakness, no matter how good they are overall. In addition, Hermione is very gullible where authority figures are concerned. If a teacher tells her, “The Patronus is a very difficult, advanced spell that many people can’t ever master,” she’ll believe that, which may create a self-fulfilling prophecy. A couple of years ago, another DTCL member and I facetiously suggested Harry was less intelligent than his wand. We didn’t know we were right. It rarely happens, but this is an occasion when I would have preferred to be wrong.

...

If only there was a way of getting a better wand... And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swal-lowed him once more... They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermione’s flat disbelief nor Ron’s persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harry’s belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. [...] As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry’s descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. [...] But not until March did luck favor Ron at last.

The essayist: MARCH! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The first fifteen pages of this chapter cover three months, and during that entire time, Harry Potter does nothing, nothing, but sit on his ass fantasizing about the Elder Wand and trying to connect with his Voldie-soul mate. Oh, wait. He also tries to open the snitch so he can get the stone out of it. (Nothing gay about that, either.) I wish he’d succeed in that, too. Maybe he’d swallow the stone, and it would end up in his scrotum. He sure needs something that works down there. Harry doesn’t have the right to bail out on his society like this. He can’t have it both ways. He can’t have the adulation that goes with being Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-Chosen-One-Wizarding-World-Savior and abdicate the responsibilities that go along with those titles and that adulation. Look at what happens in this chapter: Harry becomes obsessed with finding and uniting the Hallows, so much so that he withdraws from his friends, bails out on the job his idol Dumbledore gave him, and spends all his time brooding and trying to connect with the Dull Lord. In other words, he acts clinically depressed. Ron and Hermione were exposed to the same information Harry was, but they didn’t become obsessed/depressed. Ron was mildly interested in the Super-Wand, but not enough to distract him from the Horcrux hunt. Hermione dismissed the whole DH story as nonsense and continued following Dumbestbore’s orders. So why weren’t they tempted?

...

The essayist: Harry opens the locket using Parseltongue--interesting that this never occurred to him before now--and two ghostly figures emerge. They’re Voldie-versions of Harry and Hermione, and they articulate Ron’s worst fears: “Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter...Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend...Second best, always, eternally overshadowed...” I’ll say it again: When you’re right, you’re right. The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children. And if Rowling doesn’t want us to ship HP/HG, she needs to quit throwing them together and making them leaders, with Ron either in the background or absent entirely. JKR obviously wants us to automatically dismiss certain statements just because they’re made by “bad guys” such as Voldemort and Rita Skeeter. There are two problems with this: (1) The “lies” make perfect sense, far more sense than what we’re supposed to believe. (2) Even pathological liars sometimes tell the truth, typically when it won’t hurt their own interests to do so. For those of us who live in what cartoonist Garry Trudeau calls “the reality-based community,” the evidence is what matters, not what we’re told by authority figures. Those of us in the higher stages of spiritual development are funny that way.

...

The essayist: Well, whose fault is that, Ms. Rowling? You’re the one who’s spent the last four books making Ron dumber and dumber, depriving him of any meaningful activity, while you shoved Harry and Hermione into increasingly dominant roles.

The commenter: Are we supposed to look down on Ron now so that we can condemn him for leaving Harry and Hermione? Because if so, then that’s just unfair. Every time Ron tries to come up with an idea, Hermione criticizes him or shoots him down. And the twins have done a fine job of intimidating Ron into remaining mediocre and modest so that he doesn’t remind them of Percy, so what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to come up with ideas when he’s surrounded by people who basically tell him to shut up and sit down?

The essayist: Just then, Hermione comes out of the tent with cups of tea, with tears running down her face and looking terrified her “friend” is going to curse her with her own wand.

The commenter: So, Hermione will snarl at Ron all day long, but cower in fear when Harry gets mad. Is she projecting herself onto Harry and assuming that just because *she’s* quick to hex people who anger her (Ron, Marietta, etc.), Harry will do the same to her?

The essayist: The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children.

The commenter: And blatantly showed favoritism to Harry while snarling at Ron in the same breath. Of course, Horcrux!Tom doesn’t bring that up, because JKR would have to admit that there might be something wrong with Molly favoring Harry the way she does. The essayist: Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron.

The commenter: Yeah…sorry, it’s not “slapstick” anymore when somebody actually has to stop her from hitting Ron. When Harry feels that the situation is dangerous enough that his intervention is necessary. That’s not funny. That’s a true-crime episode. What gets me is that Hermione's tantrum lasts for days. It goes on for several pages into the next chapter. She doesn't start acting normal again until she comes up with the idea of visiting Xeno Lovegood. The essayist: Hermione tells Ron she still hasn’t ruled out attacking him with birds again.

The commenter: *flatly* So, all of the fans who cooed about how “great” it was for Hermione to show “girl power” by sending Ron to the hospital wing in HBP or breezily dismissed the scene as just tired teenage melodrama? Can put a sock in it. Hermione has clearly learned nothing, JKR clearly feels that that scene was funny, and at no point are we supposed to think that Hermione is an abuser. Even though, if the genders were reversed, fans would be calling for Ron’s head on a platter if he dared lay a finger on Hermione. No. This isn’t funny. This isn’t charming. Hermione hurt Ron so badly in HBP that he had to go to the hospital wing. And she tried to repeat the damage she caused here. Is she going to attack him with birds again after they get married? Is she going to do it in front of their children? Will it be “cute” and “funny” then? No, if a man is an abusive monster for losing his temper and trying to hurt his girlfriend, then Hermione is an abusive monster for losing her temper and trying to hurt her boyfriend. Not only did Hermione land Ron in the infirmary with the first attack, but she wants to do it again at a time when they are on the run. She will NOT be able to take an injured Ron to Hogwarts infirmary, nor to St. Mungos. In other words - she intends for him to remain injured and stick with them while camping, or else he must apparate away while injured, risking another splinching so he could be healed.

...

The essayist: Ron and Harry go back to the tent, and Harry fades into the background so as not to interfere with the lovers’ reunion. That’s a mistake. After Harry wakes Hermione, she shows her delight at Ron’s return by--attacking him? She punches him over a dozen times while yelling at him and screaming for her wand from Harry. Remember last chapter, when I talked about how immature Hermione is? Here’s your proof.

[The essayist quotes an article that I haven’t been able to find, but paraphrased: it speaks of a father who came to pick up his 4 y/o daughter from daycare, a little later than usual, and the daughter reacted by punching and hitting her father, upset at his being late. Additional read: “The parents must know that physical aggression is a common yet natural problem faced by toddlers.”]

The essayist: So there you have it: Hermione Granger, know-it-all supergirl, is so immature she acts like a preschool child when the boyfriend she’s been missing finally returns. I’m not suggesting she has a father-daughter relationship with Ron; this kind of anger is found in other relationships, too. What I am saying is that her way of expressing her anger is appropriate for a very young child. While adults may certainly feel this kind of anger and desire to hit when reunited with a loved one under similar circumstances, they don’t act it out. That restraint is what separates adults from children. Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron. I frankly found her behavior so out of control as to suggest mental instability. She engages in two full pages of histrionics before throwing herself into a chair, sitting so tensely I’m surprised the circulation isn’t cut off to her arms and legs. She remains in a bratty snit until the end of the chapter, which is another six pages. Hermione is still pouting the next morning. I’m wondering if her real problem is not that Ron left, but that she didn’t. Is she angry at him because he had the guts to admit they were blowing it and take a time out, while she just kept trailing along after Harry like a lost house elf? I think she’s definitely mad because she’s always controlled Ron and their relationship. How dare he assert his independence of her! Who does he think he is? Her equal? In an AU, maybe. This is called the Potterverse after all, not the Ronverse. Hermione’s having a bad month. First Ron runs out on them; then she saves Harry’s life, but he’s an ungrateful jerk about it; then Harry asserts his independence; then Ron comes back but doesn’t grovel sufficiently for her taste. All this mistreatment is going to give her the idea she’s just a normal character and not an Author’s Darling. While Ron was gone, he was captured by bad guys called Snatchers, who are bounty hunters for Voldemort. In getting away, he got a spare wand, which he gives to Harry. Of course, it doesn’t work as well as Harry’s “real” wand, so Harry’s still in a snit about that, and with Hermione in a snit, too, they’re a cheerful bunch. Honestly, I don’t know why Ron puts up with these two. The Hs are so spoiled and self-centered, they deserve each other, but I don’t think this is what HP/HG shippers mean when they proclaim the two as an OTP. Sane, normal Ron doesn’t deserve either one of them. Run, Ron! Run while you still can!

...

The essayist: As an interesting aside, ròn is the Celtic word for seal. In Druid lore, seals represent love, longing, and dilemma. No more appropriate totem animal could be imagined for this boy whose sense of selfhood is undermined by his longing for love from a rejecting mother and inadequate father, and who, like the selchie wives of folklore, is faced with the impossible choice of being who he truly is and being rejected, or denying the best part of himself to gain love. Ron’s intelligence and independence threaten his insecure wife (and best friend), just as the selchie’s identity as a seal-woman threatens her human husband; Ron imprisons himself by hiding who he is so the Hs can feel smart and in charge, just as the selchie’s human husband imprisons his wife by hiding her sealskin in a trunk.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #hermione critical #hermione granger critical #harry potter #harry potter series #harry potter critical

63 notes · View notes

pars-ley · 4 years ago

Text

Our Little Secret

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Summary: A relaxing spa session ends up being much less therapeutic than you imagine but you get much more than you thought possible.

Genre: One shot / smut / masseuse au

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Swearing / Slight dirty talk / Slight exhibitionism / Detailed finger foreplay / Slight female cumplay / Soft dom Tae / Twist ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Notes: This was written for the ‘A Long Hot Summer’ project by @thebtswritersclub. The member I picked was Taehyung and the sense I chose was touch, seeing as his hands are such a kink for many people, I thought I’d feed you all. This is my first collab and I’m both nervous and excited for it. Enjoy!

Thank you to @ditttiii for beta reading, you’re a queen. And thank you to @kooksies-stories-and-tales for the amazing banner, you worked really hard to make sure I was happy, you always have my appreciation boo. Thank you @aroseforyoongi for helping with where to take this story and letting me talk your ear off about it.

As you sit in the waiting room with your legs crossed, casually flicking through the pages of a women’s fashion magazine, you can almost feel the tension rolling off of you in waves.

Your shoulders feel tight enough to snap, desperate for some attention and aching to be kneaded. You slowly roll your head around, stretching the muscles in your neck to try and give yourself some relief.

“Miss L/N? Taehyung is ready for you.” The receptionist announces, smiling much more than you would think possible. Her mouth stretched wide, her teeth like piano keys, straight and ivory white.

You toss the magazine back onto the coffee table and stand, grabbing your bag and following, as you dubbed, ‘Miss Smiley’ along the corridor. She shows you to the room, giving you her fake saccharinely, sweet smile once again and heads back off to the front desk.

You knock lightly and wait.

“Come in.” A deep voice drawls out.

You push open the door and head over to your new masseuse, whose back is to you as he meticulously rolls up a grey towel.

He turns as you approach. “Hello, Miss L/N, very nice to meet you. My name is Taehyung, I'm new here and I’ll be taking over for Cho.” He offers his hand to you. You take it mechanically, his grip firm but not overly so. You open your mouth to respond but can’t find any words forming for you to speak them, they get suffocated in your throat and swallowed down.

No, no, no. This isn’t going to work. I need my sweet, lovely Cho back or any other female masseuse on the premises. I cannot work with someone this...stunning. It was as though the angels themselves had carved every perfect, symmetrical line of his face.

The boxy smile he gives you; enough to melt your insides and turn your legs to jelly. His eyes, so warm and inviting, chocolate pools you can’t help but be captivated by them. You find yourself smiling in return but also becoming acutely aware of how much time is passing without you saying a word..

Come on, get it together.

You swallow your panic and get a grip on yourself. “Please, call me y/n.” Your voice sounds surprisingly even, making you relax a little.

“Sure, if that's what you prefer.” He nods, smiling, his expression a little strained and a little awkward. It’s only then, as you glance down, that you realise you still have his hand gripped in yours like a vice and are shaking it a bit too vigorously. His perfect, large hands are strong, with long slender fingers clasped around yours, encasing them in a caressing cage. Flawless.

“Sorry,” You laugh nervously and release him from your grasp, as you feel a slight warmth creep into your cheeks, staining your skin like pink roses in spring.

He smiles reassuringly. “First time with a male masseuse?”

You exhale with relief and laugh, mainly at yourself. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and make your way to the table? I’ll be back in a few moments.” He exits the room swiftly, leaving you with your racing heart and manic thoughts.

How can I get naked in front of a man like him and be comfortable? With those perfect hands about to glide across my skin like a ship across water. How can I possibly be comfortable with that kind of masochistic torture?

You shake your head, hoping the movement will clear your mind and shake loose your impure thoughts. You hang your jacket on a hook and sit down to remove your shoes.

Stripping your garments off one by one and laying them in a pre-placed basket until you’re left bare as the day you were born, you then climb onto the massage table. You lay on your back, placing the thin sheet over you up to your armpits and try to control your breathing as you look up towards the ceiling.

You focus on the relaxing sounds you can hear playing out of the speakers, akin to wind chimes, a sound that you have always loved. Reminiscent of your childhood, of sweltering summer days sitting on the porch or playing out in the front yard. Your mother bringing out homemade lemonade, to cool you and your sister down, the sour, sweet taste setting flavour fireworks off on your tongue and making your cheeks pucker at the sharpness. The wind chimes a constant in the background.

A quiet knock on the door snaps you out of your calming thoughts and your whole body goes rigid as you call, “Come in.”

You hear him enter and listen as his quiet footsteps grow closer to you, your eyes still trained on the smooth, light ceiling, stretching out above you.

Feeling his warm hands on your shoulders and seeing his upside down face come into view, your body stiffens further under his touch. “Try to relax.” He smiles sweetly at you.

Your chest trembles from the thrum of your pounding heart.

I wonder if he can see it too?

“I’m going to start at your feet and work my way up. Just close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths for me.” He speaks slowly, something about his calm, rich voice and the soulful tone makes you feel like you’re melting from the inside out. This is going to be one interesting massage.

As you close your eyes and focus on your breathing, you hear him move down the other end of the table. You hear the sound of oil slick in his hands but still jolt slightly at his touch on your foot.

He starts off slow and gentle, the pressure perfect, just enough to soothe your aching muscles which today were extra tender. The feel of his soft hands gently caressing you sends shivers through you, a ripple of goose pimples cascades across your skin.

The feel of his long fingers, twining around your ankles has your core throbbing. Imagining...him holding me by them while he pushes himself deeper...No, I need to stop that.

You squeeze your thighs together slightly, just to provide you some relief to the pulsating that is increasing between your legs.

“Relax.” He whispers.

His strong grip, travelling further up your leg and gliding firmly along your thigh, your bare crotch feels exposed even with the cover, as your arousal blossoms with each punishing movement like the flowering buds at the start of springtime. When he almost reaches your centre, his fingers mere millimetres from grazing your folds, you have to bite your lip to hold in a whimper.

God, I can’t take much more of this.

The massage continues on, tortuously slow, and time seems to stand still.

The worst part is, when he moves onto your top half, feeling his soft fingertips graze along the swell of your breasts. Your heart seems to stop in your chest before it starts violently knocking against your ribs, the throbbing in your core vibrating to the same swift rhythm.

You meet his eyes at that point but wish you hadn’t, when he gives you an upside down smile that only pulls up one side of his mouth in the sexiest way, even from this angle.

You are relieved when you can finally turn onto your stomach, not being able to see his face definitely helped. The torture begins again as he starts at your feet and works his way up your body with his gruelling pace.

Your hands grip the towel by your head for so long your fingers ache, transforming into stiff claws, but the ache in your core is incomparable and desperate to be sated with his touch.

His fingers are like magic, his touch so soft and caring, that even through your anxiety you can feel your muscles are lighter and less painful than before.

When his fingers smooth along the skin on the back of your thighs and his fingertips skim your folds. You freeze.

That had to be an accident, surely he didn’t mean to go that close.

You wait with baited breath as his hands climb slowly back up your legs, but what you're expecting, doesn’t happen. You hate to admit the tinge of disappointment you feel as your body relaxes slightly and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

The frustration you feel is immense, you’ve never been this turned on by someone before, and you have to refrain from grinding your painful crotch against the massage table.

His thumb slides silkily up the inside of your leg and a shiver runs up your spine as his fingers lightly slither their way along your moist entrance. Your eyes trained at the tiles on the floor, as arousal makes you quiver under his touch.

He must be doing that on purpose!

You discreetly open your legs wider, giving him access, if that was what he was searching for.

His oiled hands find their way under the sheet and caress your buttocks, softly kneading your cheeks, before finding their way back down to your throbbing crotch.

He skates a finger over your entryway and you have to bite your lip to hold the moan you feel rising.

You want to angle your bottom up in the air so he can see and touch every part of you but you resist and stay flat and unmoving as a slab of concrete.

Your heart pounds violently in your chest, from fear and thrill both. This is so wrong, this shouldn’t be happening and you definitely shouldn’t be encouraging it but it feels so good, that you can’t stop yourself.

He slides a finger in between your swollen folds until he finds your clit, where he delicately traces circles with his oiled fingertips.

You let out a moan and his mouth is instantly by your ear, breath tickling your skin. “You’re going to need to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Good, now turn over.” He whispers.

You do as he says, feeling somewhat bashful that he can now see your face.

He flips the sheet off, exposing you completely, a fresh shudder flows through you, and as he does he pulls his full bottom lip in between his set of perfect teeth.

“You are beautiful.” He says, as his eyes roam over your body and most intimate areas. A harsh blush spreads from your chest to your cheeks and the urge to cover yourself is almost overwhelming but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands are on you, spreading your legs open and pushing your knees down onto the bed. You are wide open, receiving him like he’s returning home from a long trip, welcome mat positioned and ready. So eager and trusting to this stranger you hardly know.

He slips a finger inside you making you gasp, and you clutch your hand over your mouth to stop any more noise from escaping.

“You’re so wet. I could see it pooling out of you. Such a dirty girl.” He leans down to whisper.

His thumb finds your swollen bud, while he slides a second finger in your heated core. Pleasure shoots through you like a bullet, making your body jolt in response. You throw your arm over your face and bite the skin to stop a sinful moan from echoing through the room.

“You were praying I'd touch you, weren’t you?”

You nod eagerly, unable to open your mouth for fear of screaming his name. You can feel the build up already there, your insides coiled and ready to spring. He hooks his fingers inside of you, and slowly beckons repeatedly over the sensitive spot that makes your toes curl.

You feel yourself clench around his enchanted digits as your core melts and grows even hotter at his skilful movements.

“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” He whispers, deep and sinful into your ear, his breath caressing your neck, sending delicious shivers down your body. His command is all you need to heighten the intense, throbbing build up of your orgasm and is enough to cause your body to unravel wildly around him.

White light consumes your vision as your legs jolt and your back arches off the table, sucking his fingers into you even more as he pushes them inside to help ride out your spasming climax. Pleasure vibrates through you with each contraction, descending over you like waves, capturing you and pulling you under.

He clamps a hand over your mouth to stop the unholy sounds leaving your body but his action makes your eyes roll into your head from the sheer dominance of it.

As your core stills and your body relaxes, he gently withdraws his slick covered fingers. He admires them, glistening under the light.

“I wonder what you taste like,” He says, as he brings them up to his lips; licking and sucking your cum clean.

Heat returns to your stomach fast and hard. You were still heavily panting but your body is already eager for more.

His eyes roll and he lets out a satisfied moan as he tastes you and licks his lips, as if he just devoured a delectable three course meal. When he catches you clenching your thighs together, his mouth stretches into a devilish grin enticing you into the pits of hell through the gates of pleasure.

“Y/n wants more, already?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Ummm.” Is all you can coherently reply with your dry throat and breathless lungs.

“You are a dirty girl.” He moves down to the end of the bed, stalking you like prey. He grabs your ankles and slides you down to him. He then pushes your legs apart, his face serious, and eyes hungry.

He dips his head lower, his mouth heading straight for your soaking folds. Your breathing spikes from the anticipation of how his full lips and boxy mouth will feel against your greedy cunt. He continues lower at a torturous pace, your eyes fixed on him, his beauty, his allure. Everything about him draws you in, entices you, overwhelms you with his charm and for a moment you wonder if this is how Eve felt before she took a bite of the forbidden apple.

Your core throbs violently with need, waiting to rejoice in his oral pleasure but suddenly his head withdraws and he straightens up at the end of the bench.

“Our time is up for today, y/n. But if you’d like we can continue this another day.” He says, back to his professional tone, as if he wasn’t just about to eat your needy slit like his last meal.

Your mouth pops open at him.

How can he do that to me? How can he be such a tease?

You sit up and close your legs. “Are you kidding?”

He smirks at you. “I’m afraid not.” He leans in closer. “If you’re a good girl and be nice, then I’ll book you in and I’ll take extra good care of you.” He winks. “It can be our little secret.”

You bite your lip and sigh. Fine, I’ll play along.

It’s only then you notice his erection creating a tent in his trousers and you moan, sliding forward on the bed so you’re almost crotch to crotch with him.

“Are you sure you can’t fit me in now? Or fit in me, should I say?” You flutter your lashes up at him as you smile coyly.

He bites his lip, clearly torn. “I would actually love nothing more than to fuck your tight, needy pussy here on this table but I do have another client.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “What about when I get off work?” He asks, hopeful, almost as desperate as you feel.

Your mind goes back to him torturing you with the promise for more and as hungry as you were for him, you didn’t want the fantasy of what happened here to be over, just yet.

“I can’t tonight I’m afraid. It’s ok, I can wait for our next appointment. Next week, good for you?”

His expression pained as he squeezes your thighs. “Ok, I deserve that. Next week it is.” He takes your hand and brings the back of your fingers up to his lips, where he places a warm, chaste kiss against them. When his lips part, the area feels cold.

He adjusts his trousers and tunic before nodding at you and leaving the room.

You jump down off of the table, your limbs wobbling underneath you, and your entire body feeling drained.

Slowly, you get dressed in a haze of satisfaction mixed with frustration, a unique combination to you, as you gather your bits and leave the room. On your way back to the reception desk, you feel lighter than air, a slight spring in your step as though you were bouncing along a fluffy cloud.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the scary, smiley receptionist.

How can one person smile this consistently, it’s the work of sociopaths?

Taehyung stands waiting at the desk, beaming his perfect set of teeth your way in the shape of his boxy grin.

“Thank you, for trusting me today.” He says, sweetly holding a hand out for you to shake again and giving you a knowing smile, a twinkle in his eyes keeping your secret safe.

You oblige and can’t help admire his flawless hands again.

God, there wasn’t a blemish in sight. “No, thank you. You definitely have magic hands.” You say without thinking. You are shocked to see his cheeks turn pink and you revel in the sudden change of power between the two of you.

“Thank you, well, I,” He coughs and glances around the waiting room. “I hope to see you again soon, y/n.” He says. You give a nod and another polite smile as he heads quickly off to his therapy room again.

You book your following appointment and tap your card on the payment machine, giving an awkward wave as you push through the heavy doors.

You’re surprised at yourself, the turn of today’s events hadn’t made you feel shameful or embarrassed like perhaps you should.

I just paid to cum, I paid for a sexual service, something I never thought I’d do. Ever.

You shrug it off, after what transpired in that room, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that it was one hundred percent worth it and the promise of more to come was even more thrilling.

After your journey home, a buzz you’ve not felt for a while, clouds your mind and pulls you into constant daydreams. You take a shower to wash the oil and arousal off you, hoping it will help clear the fog in your head.

As you walk into the living room, in nothing but your towel, and take a seat on the sofa preparing to veg out to some crappy T.V., the sound of the door clicking open interrupts your thoughts.

“Hey baby, how was your day?” You ask, rapidly flicking through the channels in search of something mindless.

Fast footsteps close the distance between you, as your husband's frustrated face rounds your view. He slams onto his knees and rips the towel off of your skin, the cooler air hits you making your nipples pucker instantly.

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me.” He snaps. “I had to work the rest of my shift with an erection and thinking about the taste of your pussy juice.”

You smile seductively at him. “Tae, you have to admit, it was worth it though.” You stroke your fingers through his hair, fresh arousal blooming at the delectable sight of him between your legs for the second time today.

“Hey, that was your fantasy, not mine, you know I’ll fuck you anywhere I can, my new workplace clearly being one of them.” He pushes your legs apart and stares in wonder at your delicate center, as if it holds all life’s answers. “Now, shut up, so I can eat this pussy till you scream.”

A/n: Feedback would be appreciated!

571 notes · View notes

valdangelodumbasses · 4 years ago

Text

Valdangelo Headcannons #1

Leo and Nico are both introverts but Nico loves affection

Leo made Nico tiramisu once and he swallowed it faster than Percy could ever

Leo couldn't look him in the eyes for a week or he got so flustered

Nico is lawyer bf

and a demon at monopoly; him playing w/ Annie is the worst.

gamers! both like monster (specifically mango loco) but Nico also loves tropical redbull

Nico teaches Leo and hazel how to play so they can battle 2v2

Nico wipes the floor and Leo is just glad he understands half the rules

Nico and Leo wear heels.

and they're good at it too.

Confident Nico>>>>>>

Leo has a fucking heart attack when Nico pins him to a wall

Leo makes Nico laugh with his jokes and shitty pickup lines

but when Uses shitty pickup lines on him he steals them, after he stops looking like a tomato

Nico does Cosplay and they cosplay together and its so fucking rad

making out while baking/cooking? more likely than u think

Leo tells Nico he looks cute one day b4 they started dating and Nico is like: Is this friendly affection

Caffeine addicts rise up

but Nico hates coffee and honestly same

teas n energy drinks>>>

Leo is a fucking swine who mixes all his foods and Nico nearly vomits bc he wont let his food even touch goddamit

Piper and Hazel being wingman while Percy and Jason are the matchmakers

p r a n k s

like so goddam many

they are unstoppable and they pin it on the Stolls

or Leo gets caught

Nico n e v e r does bc like? scary emo kid? prankster? nah, NAh,

he sticks his tongue out at leo anytime leo gets caught

bisexual leo or gay leo? leo doesn't even know!

all he knows is that nicos hot and has a cute butt & personality

nico is a theater gay

he sings every musical

his favorites are Heathers, Beetle juice, Legally blond, and the greatest showman

Leo has theater kid energy but probably works the tech stuff

he likes heathers, Chicago, legally blond, Grease, and dear evan Hansen the best

Hamilton is neither of their favorites yet they end up dueting it all the time

Art kid and Repair kid>>>>>>>>>>>>

Percy sees them kiss after dating (and kissing) for 6 months and wait yall are friends?

Hes slow but he means well, Nico sticks his tongue in leo's mouth after percy says that

he's like “O H , sorry im dumb”

“jackpot” “Valdez shush”

they talk abt their moms

angsty emo boys listen to greenday

and every other emo band

Leo calls Nico mammacita once

never again (Nico started crying)

why? It was commonplace used by his uncles and grandpa

Nico demands leo call him that more though

Leo is Hesitant but obliges

mexican or italian food restaurant arguments

leo steals nicos breadsticks even tho he has some

nico steals leo's nachos when he has his own

they're petty? yes but petty and in love!

and gay/ did i mention g a y

Demiboy leo rights

leos a fuckin lefty

Trans Nico rights mtf or ftm rights

nico may not be trans but he's also demiboy

demi boys calling each other they all day because nobody uses the they in he/they (speaking as a demigirl)

If nico IS trans tho hades 100% uses magic to transition Nico bc yes good dad

laughing abt trauma and they're friends are like: NO

memes

“get ur hands off my bf”

“kick their ass baby i got cho flower”

imagine, just imagine nico fussing over leos hair because curly is the cutest

leo fusses over nicos when he's in a slump and brushes his hair

skincare is vital to both

Leo does engineering n shit but does it for like 16 hours straight much to everyone's dismay, but Nico who has (arguably) fresh eyes and make sure his physics is right

Nico loves physics fight me

but nico sleeps like 4 times a week for 3 hours or 3 days a week for 12 hours

Insomnia gang don’t rise up go to fuckin sleep

will keeps giving them melatonin and they always forget to take ti and will is going to fuckin murder them maybe then they'll sleep

u know that comic where they naruto kiss S P I D E R M A N K I S S I E S

nico hangs like a bat and leo is a memelord

nico also loves spider man

they def try to make spider man gear but annie smashes the shit out of it

dorks! comic!

omg comic book shop au nico owns it

soulmate au where u loose shit n it goes to ur soulmate

nico has NO clue what the hell to do with all this nails n hammers n shit

Leo builds stuff out of nicos lost mytho dupes

Leo doesnt know what to do with his underwear, or all the mcdonalds receipts and the crumpled up sketches and sketch books

anyway

aphrodite ships it as she SHOULD and hades n heppy do too

why did i cal hephaestus heppy ? idk maybe aphrodite calls him that

They both hate yoga with a passion

does nico have an obsession with spn or does he hate it sm that he watches it ?

its as ambiguous as leo's sexuality!

Leos like what if i'm straight

then nico walks in

No he's definitely not straight

who even heard of greeks being straight smh

Nico in miniskirts, aline, or any skirt makes leo go brrrrrrr

he wears leggings or tights under them though

Nico also wears leggins to bed

or the fluffy pants he steals from leo so leo doesn't have any pants

“IM FEELINGS DEVIOUS AND LOOKING GLAMORUS-”

band band band band band band band band band Nico can sing and leo plays drums

Nico and katie are friends and Nico has a green thumb so leo is surprised when nico has more houseplants than crowley (Good omens)

He has tons of hanging and not hanging terrariums

Leo tries not to set them on fire

After Leo and Nico start hanging out more Nico bribes Lou Ellen to make his plants fire proof

they are now

Nico knows how to fire a gun and he's good at it

Pirate Nico!!

Leo and Hades get along well

So does Nico and heppy

the parents get along too but they diss heras bad mothering

Nico gets de aged and leo is ???? but he's so CUTE AND TINY

Leo babysits him for a week in the bunker and nobody even knows until Percy and Will goes in there looking for him

Nico and Clarisse sparing? Sweaty bf? Leo loves it and chris and leo are just staring and say “yes”

Nico has freckles and leo kisses each one

Leo has these really dark freckles spread across his body but they aren't as frequent as freckles?? y'all know what i mean? ne way nico kisses them

Leo uses Yall.

It rubs off on nico

jason is a die hard anti y’all

they annoy the shit out of him

Cuddles

nico and leo having bakeoffs

Nico asking piper for advice but editing it so its not super obvious its leo

She figures it out and tells leo like any good bff

nico promptly leaves camp when leo busts in asking if he has a crush on him

hades laughs but understands

leo sulks back to piper and percy is there and Percy got no chill

so he goes down there

Hades ain't too happy w that but Nico just gets so embarrassed and goes back with him

Hephaestus and aphro watching this go down like a romcom

I'm getting tired so im going to stop here anyway stan valdangelo for clear skin

141 notes · View notes

doctorofmagic · 4 years ago

Text

Stephen’s indelible sin

For those who follow me for a while, you’re probably aware that I speak of guilt and self-loathing A LOT when it comes to Stephen. Once I wrote about his most terrible sin, but since then, I’ve gathered MORE information concerning Stephen and Hulk’s relationship. And, on a personal level, I think both fans and writers should explore this bond more, given their history.

Today, I’ll bring a detailed review on Stephen’s mistake and how it escalated into a pain that will never cease to exist within his heart and soul.

Warning: get your handkerchiefs ready, this is about to become sad quite rapidly.

We’ll begin our journey of angst in 1967, as seen in Strange Tales #156-157. In order to prevent Umar from walking on Earth, the Ancient One advises Stephen to release an evil and powerful demon called Zom. The demon is able to defeat Umar, but his strength is overwhelming, enough to give the Ancient One a hard time. Zom’s power is so evil and cursed that releasing him is a deed that catches the Living Tribunal’s (undue) attention. The Living Tribunal is so offended he wants to destroy Earth. And guess what? He blames Stephen, even though he was a mere apprentice imbued with blind obedience at that time.

The Living Tribunal imprisons Zom again, while Stephen convinces the deity that Earth deserves another chance. Stephen basically saves the planet, as usual, while Zom remains dormant for literally decades.

We’ll skip now to a not-so-canon event called “the birth of the Illuminati”, or “how Stephen ruined his life for good out of arrogance and toxic masculinity”. It’s uncertain when they first gathered to boss around the planet, but according to History Of The Marvel Universe #3 (2019) and New Avengers: Illuminati #1 (2007), they made this decision after the Kree/Skrull War, creating a secret council to answer for all humanity, even though humanity itself wasn’t aware of those dubious representatives. The Kree/Skrull war dates back to 1971, which means they spent decades plotting their hidden agendas.

Still, they’re heroes, right? They wouldn’t harm people, would they? They wouldn’t harm their friends or make mistakes. They’re supposed to be the smartest, most powerful people on Earth. Oh. Let me tell you something. Their very first mission was the reason why we had Civil War and Secret Invasion. Yes. It’s their fault that the Skrulls invaded Earth. And yes, Stephen is to blame because he was there with the group when they first threatned the Skrulls never to come back, or else they’d face them. Hah.

However, this is not his indelible sin. As you all know, what I consider an irreparable mistake was sending Hulk to Sakaar. And what’s even worse? It wasn’t the first time that Stephen tried to banish Hulk, as seen in The Incredible Hulk v1 #305 (1985).

But why is Stephen so haunted by banishing a menace? Because Hulk was, foremost, a dearest friend.

From Defenders v1 #12 (1973)

When it comes to Hulk’s friendships, people always think of Rick Jones, Amadeus Cho, even his cousin Jennifer Walters. But few people remember that Stephen and Valkyrie were two of the first heroes to treat Hulk kindly and with respect, even though Hulk always called Stephen names (the most iconic, “dumb magician”, which is a personal favorite of mine).

Stephen has always treated Hulk as an equal, as someone who is so much more than a mindless brute. So it’s really strange for me to read that, at some point, Stephen tried to banish him twice.

Sadly, it happened. The first was not as iconic as the second, though. So I’m focusing on the latter. Remember the Illuminati? The group thought they had the right to decide Hulk’s fate after he went berserk and destroyed Las Vegas. And Stephen agreed to it. Namor, who was also a member of the Defenders along with Stephen and Hulk, was the only one who refused, as seen in New Avengers: Illuminati One-Shot (2006). The three of them were the original members. Stephen should’ve known better. So why would he agree to this?

Because, again, the Illuminati are a very dubious group whose foundations are based on toxic masculinity. Powerful, egoic men left unchecked. And Stephen, as Earth’s most powerful sorcerer, couldn’t resist the call. The Ancient One was dead. The mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme was his. Clea left him years later - and he never told her about his dirty little secret, something that is subtly confirmed somewhere between New Avengers: Illuminati #4 (2007) and Avengers v4 #9 (2011).

Thus, it seems that Stephen, at some point, decided that he was better than everyone around him, a trait that was supposed to be buried in the past along with his arrogant neurosurgeon self. The kind man who has always praised his allies was now gone.

Except... World War Hulk happened. Long story short, Hulk ended up in Sakaar and found a new life after defeating his captor. He married and became king, and he was happy (you can get a very shady glimpse of this story in MCU’s Thor: Ragnarok, but that version is quite family friendly. World War Hulk is far worse). But then, the ship which the Illuminati created to send him into space exploded, killing his wife in the process. Spoiler: it wasn’t the Illuminati. It was Miek, who framed the Illuminati so Hulk would call revenge upon them. Enraged as never seen before, Hulk was truly decided to kill Reed, Tony, Black Bolt and... yes, Stephen.

At first, Stephen tried to reason with him. But Hulk’s hatred was beyond words. Stephen had all his fingers broken, ouch. Imagine his pain, assuming his hands were once injured in the car accident and still hurt from the damage and all the surgeries he has been through...

Now, as you know, Stephen is stubborn as hell. Remember the demon Zom? When everything else failed to stop the Hulk, Stephen finally corrupted his soul and let the demon possess him. Obviously, he lost control and almost harmed innocent people, which was enough for him to be distracted long enough for Hulk to finish him off.

In the end, Hulk discovered the truth behind the explosion and, after a rage outburst, transformed back to Banner. Stephen almost died that day by the hands of his friend. But he didn’t. All that was left from that sad event was guilt. Endless, heavy guilt.

One could arguee that Stephen is out of character. And I would’ve agreed with you, except... Nor time nor actions were good enough to heal Stephen’s heart. It never went away. Never.

The reason why he forfeited the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme? Because he used Zom’s dark magic and hurt Bruce deeply. And that affected him on so many levels that he didn’t find himself worthy anymore.

From New Avengers v1 Annual #2 (2008).

It didn’t stop there. He tried time and time again. He was never able to find the proper words to apologize because he knows words will never heal the pain he inflicted on his friend.

These thoughts are Stephen’s. “Two words I’ll repeat for the rest of my days. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” (From Incredible Hulks #618)

And poor Stephen even goes and tries to compensate his lack of expertise when it comes to interpersonal relationships, projecting his relationship with Hulk into, well, another Hulk. He’s so afraid of making the same mistakes he doesn’t even know where the line is drawn.

From Weapon H #2 (2018).

As I said, it will never go away. And Stephen knows it.

From Defenders v4 #1 (2011).

The point is, people make mistakes. And sometimes these mistakes are just too painful to be erased. Stephen strongly believes he’ll never be forgiven, which is quite sad because this sin will always be a source of guilt for him. Whether or not Hulk forgives Stephen in the future, it will always remain a burden.

Personally, I believe that blaming himself for what happened to Hulk is even worse than blaming himself for Clea’s departure. Because, see, Clea has forgiven Stephen over the years. They still love each other and, once you ignore Fearless Defenders, there’s no sin. They both agreed to take separate ways, even though their love still existed.

But Hulk? It’s a story about betrayal between friends. It’s quite cruel and sad for both sides. I can only hope that, someday, a writer will make it up for them. They deserve another chance. And, as unreliable as I am, all I want to see is a happy Stephen.

#doctor strange #stephen strange #hulk #bruce banner #analysis #marvel comics

88 notes · View notes

purselover2 · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Heart Watch

Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Heart condition, medical condition, pregnancy issues, angst

Let me know if you want tagged.

A/N: This fic goes along with my others where the reader has a heart condition. They are:

Part One: Heart Revelation

https://purselover2.tumblr.com/post/640745865074638848/thank-you-everyone-for-the-love

Part Two: Heart Meds 101

https://purselover2.tumblr.com/post/640444840661991424/title-heart-meds-101-pairing-bucky-barnes-x

Heart Watch

“So y/n, how have you been feeling? Any issues with your heart or any episodes?” Doctor Cho asked.

“Feeling good. No issues at all. Actually feeling pretty good.” You reply. You knew these checkups were necessary but you always dreaded them. Worried that they might find something else or that a test would come back abnormal.

“Sweet, that’s good to hear. Well the blood work came back good and your heart sounds strong. This is one of the best exams you’ve had. Any idea what’s different this time around?” She joked knowing exactly what the difference was.

“Don’t know doc, might have something to do a certain super soldier who won’t stop reminding me every day, twice a day to take my meds.” You said. Ever since you’d told Bucky about your heart condition, he’d taken it upon himself to learn everything he could about the conditions. He’d already learned all about your medications and researched the signs to look for in case you had another episode. He reminded you of your meds every 12 hours either in person or via text. If wasn’t able to text, he’d have Friday contact you. It was sweet, you knew it was, but sometimes you felt smothered.

“Sounds romantic. He cares.” She replies.

“He just better be glad he’s cute.” You get up and start getting dressed. “So doc, I wanted to ask you something. What do you think about me having a baby?” You couldn’t look at her. You knew the answer but asked anyway.

“I think you better be joking. Y/n, you know that’s not a good idea. You know that birthing a baby would be extremely hard on your heart and potential fatal. I want you to put that notion out of your mind. There are other options to be a mother.” She explained.

“I know. I just wanted to check and see if anything had changed. You know modern medicine and advances and all.” You said trying to hide the disappointment.

“Hey, its okay. When the time comes that you want a baby we’ll figure it out.” She patted you on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to get dressed and I’ll see you at the party tonight?”

“I’ll be there. Thanks.” You tried your best to smile and not show the pain in your heart. Not a physical pain, but the pain of knowing you’d never have a baby of your own. You and Bucky hadn’t talked about kids but you knew he loved him and figured that at some point the topic would come up.

Later that night you were getting ready for Morgan’s birthday party. You had been looking forward to it all week. Morgan was adorable and she adored you. You both loved Barbies and fashion and you had at last one pretend fashion show a month when you watched her so Tony and Pepper could go out.

“Hey baby.” Bucky called from the living room. He had just gotten back from a mission.

“In the bedroom!” You answered.

“Oh my god baby are you a sight for sore eyes.” He entered the room and came over and kissed you. “I’d give you a proper hello and hug but I need a shower in a bad way. Give me a few and I’ll be ready and we’ll go to the party together okay?”

“Sounds good. I’ll finish getting ready and make sure all her presents are ready.” You said as you grabbed your most confortable heels. Morgan was expecting everyone to come dressed like they were in a fashion show, so you weren’t going to disappoint. You heard the shower turn on and decided you’d help Bucky out and lay out his clothes for the party. Once that was done, you made your way into the living room and gathered up all the presents and put them into a stack so that Bucky could carry them.

Bucky entered the room and you smiled. “Well hello there handsome.”

“Well hello there gorgeous.” He made his way over to you. “How about giving me a proper hello now?”

Making your way into his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“How did your appointment go today?” He asked holding you tight.

“Good. My labs were all good, my heart sounded really good. She actually said that this was the best visit I’d had, maybe in forever.” You answered.

“Baby! Thats wonderful.” He pulled your face up for another kiss. “That makes me so happy. I was worried, but this is great.”

“Yeah, no getting the big head but she thinks maybe that I’m taking my meds on a regular basis, could have something to do with it.” You smile.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Speaking of which, I have a present for you.”

“I love presents!” You exclaimed.

“I know my girl does. I had Tony and Bruce help me make something special just for you.” Reaching into his backpack on the couch he pulled out a square box and handed it to you.

Taking the box, you sit down on the couch and open the lid. Inside is a watch. Not just any watch, this watch looked dressy, but also like it had AI behind it.

“Its beautiful.” You looked up at Bucky and he sits down next to you.

“It monitors your heart rate and transmits the data back to the app on your phone. It will also take an EKG and do all your other vitals. And it might also remind you to take your medicine.” He laughed at the last part.

You were touched you really were, he cared so much for you. You pulled him over to you and kissed him. “I love it. Thank you for always making sure I’m okay and taken care of.” You knew that an Apple Watch would have done the same thing, but you figured this was an Apple Watch on steroids.

“You’re welcome baby. Gotta make sure my best girl stays healthy.” He took the watch and placed it on your arm. “There. Oh here’s the other one.” He hands you a second box.

“Another watch?” You asked wondering why there were two.

“Yeah.”

“Why do I need two?” You opened the box to find the same exact watch just with a different band.

“Well you’ll have to have one to wear while the other is charging.” Bucky explained.

“Baby, it won’t take the long for it to charge. A few minutes without the watch won’t hurt anything.” You explained.

“I know, but with two we won’t have to worry about what if something happens in those few minutes.”

“You mean, you won’t have to worry.” You laughed.

Bucky started to pout and you felt bad about teasing him. “I’m sorry baby. It’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you. I promise to always have one of them on.” You kissed him.

“Thank you baby. Now let’s go spoil Miss Morgan with all these presents.” He stood and picked up the packages and you opened the door.

You both made your way down the hallway not knowing that tonight would be the start of the hardest and most difficult time of your relationship.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

50 notes · View notes

buckypcrker · 3 years ago

Text

mission as usual // i love y'all 3000 challenge

hi everyone! this is a submission for @pagesoflauren's i love y'all 3000 challenge. i saw this come up on my dash and figured i would do a prompt (or two, maybe). i haven't written anything in quite a bit, and the inspiration may as well have slapped me in the face. here is the link to her original post!

pairing: Clint Barton x James "Bucky" Barnes [WinterHawk]

warnings: hurt/comfort, possible fluff overload, typical canon violence

prompt: "Who did this to you?"

word count: 1.5k

Mission As Usual

After most Avengers missions the tower became chaotic. The brisk footfalls of new agents discussing upcoming missions. Stark's R&D engineers tweaking and updating weapons and transportation vehicles. The medical staff taking care of patients and preparing for those who would be coming from other missions.

You could say that the Avengers were a kind of group who believed in self-sacrifice — even if it was a subconscious effort — and the worst of the bunch had to be one-Clint Barton.

Clint had this streak of consecutive medical visits post-mission going — he was currently weighing in at 62, and that's not counting the various clumsy accidents he gets into in the tower.

But the only problem he truly faced was getting past his mother-hen of a boyfriend. Bucky meant well, truly. He just can't help it when he gets his Sargent voice going and telling Clint to "be more careful".

"He was like this with me when we were kids", Steve had laughed, "glad to see that hasn't changed."

The only difference is Steve Rogers was the most sickly kid in all of Brooklyn, hell, all of New York and Clint was just a huge, self-sacrificing klutz.

Missions with just himself and Natasha were rare nowadays. They hung out all the time in the tower regardless, but there was nothing quite as special when they got to team up against HYDRA or former members of the Red Room.

Half the time that they were out in the field they were back to back watching each other's six. Clint's bow always drawn tight with an arrow and Natasha's batons buzzing in her hands. No one worked quite as in sync as the two of them, well, unless you look at Steve and Sam Wilson.

Their mission this time was tracking down a rogue HYDRA agent who escaped their grasp during their last roll in the mud with the whole team. Seemed simple enough. In, out, get the guy, interrogate, and have time to catch a new episode of The Blacklist.

As most injuries to the Avengers happen, one minute Clint was in a Mexican stand off with the HYDRA agent, Natasha coming up from behind, and the next his face was slammed down onto the asphalt.

His ears were ringing, head throbbing. There's another one, he must've called backup. Clint slowly pushed himself up to his knee, blood trickling down his temple. He flung his head around, seeing his attacker coming back for another blow.

Clint ducked under his leg that was out to kick him and snatched a knife from his boot, swiping at the back of the man's knee. A hiss sounds above him as the agent joins Clint on his knees, slamming his knee hard into his stomach.

All of the air that was in his lungs rushes out, and he's sitting hunched over, suffocating, and trying to regain his breath. "I'm supposed to be watching Nat's six", he thinks.

He finally returns to his feet, wheezing but breathing better than he was. His and Nat's grunts are heard as they continue to fight the HYDRA agents. In due time, Clint knocks out the agent by kneeing him in the head and Nat had apprehended the other.

"Alright Squad Four come in for clean up." Nat says briskly into comms.

Two quinjets land, and suddenly the steps Clint needs to take to get to them seem so impossible. Thankfully, Natasha comes up next to him and helps him to bear his own weight. Bless her and her red head.

A few SHIELD agents rush out of the first quinjet armed and with handcuffs to apprehend the HYDRA agents. The second one that Nat leads him towards has a pilot and a few medical techs to give them a basic once over before Bruce and Dr. Cho can get to them at the tower.

The flight from their mission site to the tower pass by in a total blur. Clint is fading in and out of consciousness, his head is throbbing, and everything hurts.

"Mr. Barton, sorry to interrupt," one of the med techs signs, "your hearing aids were damaged during the fight, Mr. Stark is going to have to make some new ones for you."

"Aw hearing aids, no." Clint says slurred and he knows he's a bit loud due to not being able to hear himself.

Landing at the tower winds up being more of an affair than usual. With Clint's lack of hearing, he had no clue what was happening. Lips were impossible to read as hurried conversations occurred around him.

Of course, Bruce and Dr. Cho tried to gang up on him and force him onto a gurney, hell, at least a wheelchair to wheel him to an exam room. As the sharpshooter does, he makes a big stink with slurred words and glassy eyes.

Natasha had pushed him into a wheelchair anyway.

Clint really just wanted to crawl into a vent and hide until he felt better — and maybe pop a few ibuprofen tablets too. But there he was, post-checkup with Bruce, sitting on the counter in the communal kitchen.

As with most of Clint's now 63 consecutive medical visits, bandaids were on multiple parts of his face. He was also sporting some nice bruises on his stomach and temple where his head had been slammed into the ground.

He looked and felt like he was hit by a truck filled with 17 elephants, and then ran over by a train. Ok, maybe he was getting a bit dramatic now.

Nonetheless, he was sitting with Natasha, Tony, and Peter — this new spider-child that he swears Tony picked up off the street and he has to stop calling him 'Mr. Hawkeye, sir'. His injuries were on full display, only because after having to cut Clint's shirt off to give him that once over Bruce didn't even want to try and get a shirt back on the poor man.

"You know, I know I'm an asshole, but you look like shit, Legolas." Tony snarks as his hands move quickly.

"Thanks, Tony. You are so sweet to get me a glass of water." Clint pulled this master guilt-tripping look that always got to Tony and like their game always goes, the short man retrieved what Clint wanted.

And that sure put a large grin on his face. Ow, it hurt... damn bruises. It also helped when he saw Peter laughing and the shaking of Nat's head as she sipped from a wine glass.

Everything was finally settling down, and as he got sucked into a tough game of Angry Birds on his phone, he was stunned at the sudden movements in his periphery.

Looking up — and completely missing his shot with the bird that was simultaneously a bomb — he saw Bucky rushing at him, pressing into his space between his legs. Words were tumbling out of his mouth but Clint couldn't begin to comprehend them. Too much, too fast.

"Buck, no aids, they broke." Clint signs quickly.

He watches Bucky's face change from concerned and kicked puppy to an angry scowl and back in two seconds. His metal hand reaches to cup Clint's cheek, the archer immediately pressing into his hold.

"Who did this to you?" Bucky signs with his other hand, face serious.

"HYDRA agent. Thought there was one, turns out it was two." Clint sighs in exhaustion.

Clint watches as his boyfriend looks him over, grimacing at the bruising and the bandages covering him. He knows Bucky worries when he goes on missions without having him as a backup, and this just further proved that.

He watches as Bucky turns to Tony and say something, but Clint doesn't bother to try and follow along to the conversation. He looks to Steve and Sam, both dressed in their running gear, the sweat on their brows, and they share a knowing look.

Clint was about to be put on bed arrest by one Bucky Barnes. So much to his plan of hiding out in the vents.

He watches Sam mouth 'Buck, overreacting again', and shakes his head with a fond smile. As much of a pain he was when Clint was hurt, he found it very endearing. At times when Clint had been injured way worse, Bucky had helped him into a warm bath to soothe his aches and pains, massaging his scalp, and rambling to him about his day.

Bucky taps Clint's knee twice, their signal to pay attention so they can see each other signing, he looks up into his steely blue eyes and catches a small smile on his face.

"How many now?" Bucky signs with a smirk.

"63, and counting!"

"Stop that Clint Frances."

"You did not just middle name me."

"Hm, whatcha gon' do about it doll?" Bucky smirks, signing something vaguely inappropriate as their friends had cleared out the room to give them privacy.

"Nothing. Although, I could use some good ole Bucky-bear cuddles." Clint smiled softly, looking at his boyfriend lovingly.

"Of course, I'm always going to take care of you. No matter what."

Even with Bucky's overprotective nature, Clint still couldn't help but blush at the affection from his boyfriend. He knew he still had to face the upcoming Sergeant speech, but in that moment, nothing else really mattered as he sat in Bucky's arms.

#winterhawk #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x clint barton #clint barton #bucky barnes fan fic #clint barton fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #buckypcrker #ap.fic #i love y'all 3000 challenge #pagesoflauren3000challenge

19 notes · View notes

fluffymcu · 4 years ago

Text

Letting Loose

Part THREE

This series is TICKLE related. Outfits that are linked here are purely for picturing the clothes, you don’t have to look like the model.

Series Summary: You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :) The first few chapters will be about random events, not really following a timeline until Chapter 9. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3,421

Previous Next

You wake up to the bright morning light shining through your bedroom and sigh in content, well rested. You turn to look at the clock on your nightstand and you’re a bit confused as to why it’s 10:30am and you’re still in bed and no one woke you up for school. Then you relax and smile as you realize it’s Saturday. And Saturdays are awesome. You jump out of bed and use the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before throwing on some shorts and an oversized shirt that you stole from your brother and make your way downstairs.

Most of the team is up and in the kitchen, even Bruce. It surprised you a bit since Bruce is always either up in his lab or discussing science with Helen Cho. You smile and greet everyone in the kitchen, hugging Bucky and Wanda. “Did you guys make pancakes?” You ask. Tony shook his head apologetically and placed a cereal bowl in front of you, placing the milk and favorite cereal next to it.

“Sorry, Hun. We ran out of mix, I’m going to the grocery store right now to get some stuff. Be back in an hour!” He said, grabbing his stuff and Pepper following behind him. You prepare your cereal and notice Peter is sitting on the floor of the living room, watching tv and eating his cereal. You didn’t notice him when you came in but you approached him and took a seat next to him, facing the tv.

“Oh hey y/n/n, I didn’t notice you came down.” He smiled, you returning the gesture.

“Yeah, I didn’t see you either. Thought you were still in bed.” You chuckled. Both of you continued to watch cartoons that morning, the low sound of the tv along with the buzz of the team chit-chatting. You and Peter sat back, resting your backs on the seat of the couch, your empty bowls on the coffee table.

----

You were laughing along with the team in the kitchen, talking about mistakes and embarrassments some members on the team have made while on missions. Bucky was telling a story about how he was sent to flirt with a woman at a party, that woman being a black market dealer. But instead, he got mixed up and flirted with the wrong person. In the end, they got the woman and arrested her, but he had to deal with constant texts and calls from the lady for the next week, and explain to her about the mix up. He quickly regretted telling the story as Sam had begun to tease him endlessly about it.

Around that time, Tony and Pepper got home with many groceries and started laying the bags down on the island to put away. Everyone helped put the groceries away so it could be done faster, and sat down in the living room. You all had barely sat down when Tony spoke up. “Hey guys, guess what?” You all turned to look at him. He held a dramatic pause before smiling. “I got a go-kart.” You and Peter gasped excitedly and quickly stood up from the couch.

“Really?!” You both squealed, making the team chuckle.

“There are 14 people here and you only bought one go-kart?” Steve chuckled, raising his eyebrow sarcastically. Tony rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. You and Peter right behind him, overly excited. He led you to be backyard, where the tracks for the Quinjet were, and there was the kart. It was white and blue and had a gold streak in the middle. It was customized, since it had the Avengers A plastered on the hood. You jumped excitedly and Peter’s jaw was on the floor.

“No way! This is so cool!” Peter gushed. You both turned to look at Tony pleadingly before giving him puppy eyes. “Can we drive it? Pleaaaase?” You both begged. Tony smiled before nodding towards the kart.

“Have at it. Be careful, though. Only ride it on the track.” You and Peter cheered, climbing into the kart. You agreed that you would drive a lap around the compound and let Peter take a lap as well. The team smiled and went back inside when you sped off.

“WHOOOO!” You screamed, maneuvering the vehicle around the tracks, feeling the wind in your face and blowing through your hair. Peter couldn’t stop laughing silently at how fast you were going.

‘Y/n you’re gohohohoing too fahahahast!” He laughed, not really meaning it as he was having too much fun. You giggled loudly and screamed as you made a tight turn. “Ohohoho my gohohod!” He laughed, holding his stomach. You sped around the compound, reaching the back door where you left, slowing the kart to a stop.

“Okay, your turn.” You panted, a permanent smile attached to your face. Peter hopped out and went to the driver’s seat and you buckled up in the passenger’s. Peter grinned before speeding off, your back pressed against the seat and you began to giggle in nervous excitement. You squealed as Peter made many sharp turns and purposely pressed the brakes a few times you make you jerk forward. “Hey!!” You laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder as he chuckled and sped on. You were laughing so much by the time Peter’s lap was finished and you both panted as you sat breathless in the car.

“Imagine playing Mario Kart in real life with these?” Peter chuckled. “We’d die in the first lap.” You giggled and nodded, fixing your hair from it being all messy from the wind.

“That was so fun though.” You sighed. Peter agreed and you both sat there to catch your breaths before parking the kart in the garage and going inside. Tony and Steve were there when you entered, probably keeping in eye on you two when you were driving.

“How’d it go? You guys had fun?” Tony smirked. You both nodded and thanked him for getting the kart and you made your way upstairs. Peter went to his room to take a nap, even though it was only 12:15. You went to check up on Wanda, since you’d always go see what she was doing every once in a while.

You peeked through her door and found her laid down on her bed and watching a movie. “Hey Wanda!” You greeted and jumped up on her bed.

“Hey! Whatcha doing?” She smiled, pulling you into a hug.

“Just checking up on you. I’m kinda bored.” You chuckled, looking at the tv screen. “What are you watching?” You ask as she turns the volume down just a bit.

“Back to the future. It’s almost over, i think it needs like 20 more minutes. It’s a pretty good movie.” You hummed, nodding as you decided to just watch the rest with her. You’ve heard of that movie in school but you never really got around to watching it. The guy was kinda cute though.

“When this is done, do you wanna put some face masks on? I got a new jade roller.” You asked. Wanda smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. We can ask Nat and Pepper if they want to have a spa day with us. You smiled at the thought of all the girls just relaxing and having a self care day. When the movie ended, you hopped out of the bed and went to ask Nat and Pepper to join while Wanda set up the stuff in the spa room in the basement. Nat agreed to go but Pepper had a meeting in an hour so she couldn’t make it. “I’m so sorry Honey, this week has been so busy for me and a spa day would be just what I need to take off all this stress but unfortunately I can’t today.” She said, caressing your head apologetically and walking away. You assured her it was fine and not to worry about it.

Once you, Wanda, and Nat were down in the basement applying your masks, Clint came halfway down the stairs, calling for Nat. “Nat? You down here?”

Nat called him over and when he came down and saw you three, he started to chuckle. “Whohohoa. What’s thahat on your face?” He pointed at your masks. You and Wanda had on sheet masks while Nat had a clay mask on. Nat rolled her eyes and changed the subject.

“What did you need, Clint?” She sighed, ignoring his snickers.

“Naw, I was just looking for you so I could see what you were doin’ and possibly annoy you.” He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. You smiled tightly, not wanting to mess up for mask.

“Well, It’s working.” She chuckled, causing you and Wanda to giggle. It was Clint’s turn to roll his eyes. You sat up a bit from your reclined chair and looked up at him.

“Why don’t you join us? You wanna try on a mask?” You asked, with hope in your eyes. Clint chortled and shook his head immediately.

“Nooo thanks. I’m good.”

“But It’s good for your face and it’ll have you feeling so soft.” You drawled out, hoping to get him to give in. “Please? You’ll love it.” You pouted, bringing out your puppy eyes.

Clint shook his head at you fondly for a moment before sighing. “Fine, I’ll humor you. I’ll only do this because I got nothin’ else to do.” He said, taking a seat on the fourth recliner. You smiled widely and got up to help him get one on. “Would you like a clay mask, or a sheet mask?” You asked. ‘I’ll have whatever Nat has.” He waved dismissively. You grinned and took out the clay mask.

“Clay mask it is!”

Whether he admit it or not, Clint was totally enjoying the mask. You could tell by how he couldn’t stop touching his face for the next few hours, gushing about how his face felt so hydrated and soft.

“Here, touch my face. It’s so soft!”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“But just touch my face and see.”

“I’m not touching your face, Clint.”

A few hours had passed, it was about 4:45 and most of the team was down in the gym and Wanda and Vision had gone out to the park. Peter was still napping, surprisingly, maybe to go-kart ride had taken a lot out of him. You were getting sleepy too, and after raiding the pantry and eating a whole bunch of snacks, you passed out on the couch.

Tony came upstairs from his lab feeling a bit hungry. He went to get his favorite cookies from the pantry but they were nowhere to be found. He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking that maybe he had misplaced them, but after searching the whole kitchen, he lifted up the trash bin to find the small box of cookies, empty. His jaw dropped and he looked around to find the culprit. And there you were, passed out on the couch with wrappers of other snack on the coffee table. He sighed deeply, narrowing his eyes at you. “This little minx!” He growled, shaking his head at you incredulously.

You woke up to fingers poking harshly at your belly and you stirred awake, giggles catching up in your throat. You heard someone calling for your attention but it wasn’t until you were more awake that you realized someone was waking you up. You looked up and saw that it was Tony, poking your belly while wearing a serious face. “Hey! Did you eat all my snacks? Huh?” He asked, raising his brows at you expectantly. Your eyes widened as you realized what you did and you started to giggle nervously. This only confirmed Tony’s theory as he chuckled dryly. “Ohh, I knew it!” He began to scribble his blunt fingers into the middle of your belly, making you burst out into hysterical giggles.

“Baha! Tohohohony!” You whined, turning over on your belly to avoid his hands. Tony just saw an opportunity to sit on your back and scratch behind your ribs. You scream and kick your legs out in defeat, not being able to see Tony’s smug smirk behind you.

“I had my name on the and everything, and you just completely ignore that!” He says as he raises his hands in frustration before standing up to turn you around, straddling you again. Your laughter turns desperate when he slips his hands under your arms. “And that’s not even the worst part!” He starts, lifting up your shirt and scribbling on your bare sides. He smiles a bit at your loud squeal. “The worst part is that I just got them this morning! I didn’t get a chance to get one!”

“IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!” You laughed, kicking out your legs at the feeling of his fingers digging into your sensitive sides. You tried to pry his hands off your torso but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them under his knees. “NOHOHOHO!” You squeaked. Tony chuckled before leaning down and rubbing his beard all over your belly, especially on the sensitive spot under your belly button. You shrieked before letting out loud belly laughter, the inability to defend yourself making the sensations worse. “STOHOHOP I CAHAHANT TAKE IHHIT!” You cackle, shaking your head tiredly. Tony smirked and blew a final raspberry on your belly, basking in the sound of your child-like scream.

You let out helpless giggles as he rubbed his beard on your belly one last time before looking down at you expectantly. “Are you gonna steal my snacks again?’ You giggled, pretending to think. “I mean... probably.” You smiled sheepishly, giggling at Tony as he rolled his eyes and got off of you. “Whatever.”

You sat up, holding your stomach and called out to him. “I’m just being honest! Knowing me and the fact that I’m probably gonna live here forever, I doubt this would be the last time I eat your snacks.” You shrug. Tony knew it was true too, but he continued to feign annoyance while he walked out of the living room.

-------

It was starting go get late, The team had gone to their rooms, and you and Peter were having a sleepover in your room. The tv was playing a movie in the background and you and him were talking about the future,

“What do you want to be doing in 5-10 years?” You asked Peter. He was sprawled out next to you on the mattress and staring at the ceiling. There was silence before he spoke up.

“I don’t really know actually, I mean, with my powers, I don’t have many other obligations that to protect the city. I think I’ll still be living here too. Helping the team. All I know is that I want to help people. Whatever form that takes, I’m willing to do it.” You hummed, smiling a bit. “You? Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

You thought for a moment, tracing patterns on the ceiling with your eyes. “I wanna help people too. I know I don’t really have any powers or enhancements, like my brother, but I would want to help people as much as I can like, starting my own charity organization to help the poor. But I wanna do it right, and make sure that the money is actually going toward their causes. I want to help children in remote places to get an education and teach them that they can do anything, no matter what their situation is. That would be my dream job.” You turned to look at him with a smile. He smiled softly at you and nodded slowly.

“That’s an awesome plan, y/n.” You thanked him and you both turned to look at the ceiling again. “Hey, would Tony put a skylight in here if you asked him?” He smirked. You grinned and and sat up.

“Probably! That would actually be really cool! But then I wouldn’t be able to block out the light in the mornings when I want to sleep in and avoid school.” You said with a lopsided grin. Peter laughed and shrugged.

“Welp, you gotta give some to get some.” He said, getting under the covers and turning his attention to the tv. You shrugged nodding and getting in bed as well. You both watched the movie in silence until it ended, you, almost falling asleep and having to stay up on gummy bears and sprite. Peter had no problem staying awake since he had that long ass 5 hour nap. You really regret telling Peter to wake you up if you fall asleep. “Wake up, sleepy head!” He teased, grabbing your head with both hands, shaking it like a snow globe; gently of course.

You giggled sleepily and let your eyes droop. You were having a Star Wars marathon and taking advantage of being able to sleep late since tomorrow was Sunday. You really wanted to stay awake but it was hard.

“Would you like me to body slam you? To wake you up?” He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. You sucked your teeth and pushed him off the bed with a giggle. He made a loud thud as his body hit the floor. “Excuse me?” He said, giving you a bewildered look. You instantly regretted your actions as you put your hands in front of you defensively.

“Peter... I’m sorry.” You tried to apologize but he quickly got up and ripped the covers off you. You yelped, rolling off the bed and standing on the opposite side. He jumped on the bed to cross it and get to you but you ran out of the way and So began the big chase. You couldn’t take this out into the halls because most of the team was already asleep, so you both ran in circles around your room, running over your bed and around your hanging chair and such. You were in a fit of nervous giggles as you dodged him again and again.

It was when you tried to jump your bed again when he caught up to you, tackling you onto the bed. You yelped and pushed at his shoulders but with his super strength, he wasn’t moving an inch. He held your wrists in one hand and smirked at you. “I bet you’re wide awake now, huh.” He grinned, a playfully predatory glint in eyes before holding your wrists to your chest. He decided to attack one of your worsts ticklish spots; your hips. You bit you lip as you squealed loudly, flopping around desperately, laughing your heart out. Peter grinned evily and let go of your wrists to grab your legs. Your stomach dropped and you gasped in fear as you started to violently kick your legs, begging Peter not to get your feet. He chuckled and turned around to look at you, a mischevious smirk on his features. “You’re gonna have to keep it down, y/n, you wouldn’t wanna wake anyone up, would you?” He teased, wiggling his brows at you.

“Nohohoho Peter plehehehease! Don’t get my feeeeet!” You squeaked, pulling at your legs but he had a death grip on them. Peter ignored your pleas and mercilessly scribbled his nails in the soles of your feet. You screamed, squeezing your hands over your mouth to muffle the sound of your hysterical laughter. You rolled your upper body around on the bed, making Peter laugh and scratch under your toes. Like a reflex, you brought your arms down and screamed, startling Peter. He opened his mouth in shock, listening for any footsteps leading to your room. You instantly brought your hands to your mouth again and you and Peter stared at each other for a minute before bursting out in giggles.

“If we get in trouble, it’s all on you.” You giggled, pushing at his shoulder. He chuckled and shook his head, pointing at you.

“You, owe me for pushing me off the bed. I didn’t even get to get my proper revenge on you.” He raised his brow, poking your side. You flinched and sighed in relief, the both of you getting back into bed and pulling the covers up to your chests. Seconds later Peter gasped and turned to you. “Someone’s coming!” He whispered and you both got in positions, pretending to be asleep. A second later, a groggy Bucky opened the door to your room, looking around. He saw you both sleeping so he walked over to your bed to grab the remote and turn off the tv for you, before going back to his room.

When he left, you both began to snicker and sigh in relief before deciding to not risk getting caught again and finally go to sleep.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fic #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #tickle fight #avengers tickle #tony tickles reader #peter tickles reader #peter x reader #tony x reader #peter parker

120 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Curry Night

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Sorry if i got his character not exactly how you wanted it. I just felt like he would’ve grown as a person since high school and he wouldn’t be nearly as depressed or shy. So if you want something with his now personality, feel free to request it! (mirio has his quirk here don’t @ me) (also cho means butterfly in japanese so that’s what that is!)

You take a deep breath and fiddle with a ring on your finger. You mumble under your breath and the spices and sweet smells that start to invade your senses, doesn’t help with the nerves that you feel. You walk and grind your teeth when your feet begin to feel sore. When the baby inside of you kicks, you tap on your stomach and mumble, “Not a good time, sweetheart.”

“You need to calm down,” Tamaki mumbles, his hands placed at his sides, fingers twitching every time you make a small turn.

“It’s just been forever since I’ve seen her, you know?” You pace across the kitchen, looking over to see if the curry is ready yet. A sweet, tangy smell fills the room and you have to take a deep breath.

“She loves you,” he counters, holding onto your hand to keep you from pacing.

“I know, but,” you take a deep breath and stare at Tamaki who gives you a soft grin, “we still haven’t seen each other in such a long time. And what if she’s put off by it?”

“What are we talking about?” Mirio whispers, peering his head around the corner.

You yelp and Tamaki tightens his hand around yours and places a protective one on your protruding belly. Your hand rests over his that was on your belly and remove the hand interlocked with your partner’s, moving it to grasp at the place in front of your heart. You chuckle breathlessly and soon your heart relaxes into a steady beat.

“Mirio,” you gasp, “Jesus, you scared me.” Your hand comes down and you shake it a bit, getting rid of some of the nerves in the process.

“Ha,” the blonde scratches the back of his neck and he gives you a sheepish smile, “sorry about that.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” you wave your hand in front of you. You shake your head and step to the side, letting out a breath through pursed lips.

“Hi Mirio,” Tamaki raises his hand in a small wave and Mirio grins and bounces towards the two of you.

“Tamaki!” Mirio wraps his arms tightly around your partner. Tamaki lets out a huff and his hands come around to wrap themselves across Mirio’s broad shoulders. They release each other with grins and Mirio rolls his shoulders. “So, come on. Don’t leave me out. What are we talking about?”

Tamaki presses a kiss against your temple. “I want to ask Nejire to be the godmother,” you say in one breath, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. You give him a nervous smile, and tap your hands on your stomach, as if it weren’t noticeable that you were already pregnant.

“That’s great!” Mirio glances at your stomach and then back to you and you nod, removing your hands. “Look at you kiddo,” his voice grows softer, “not only are you going to have the best parents, but you’re also gonna have the coolest godparents too.” Mirio glances back at you. “She’s going to be really excited to hear that.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Tamaki says, turning off the stovetop. “But they’re nervous.”

“Ironic,” Mirio mumbles.

“What was that?” Tamaki tosses him a playful glare.

“I love you,” Mirio replies, a half coy grin growing.

Tamaki rolls his eyes and smells the curry, his eyes closing in bliss. “I love you too.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with just curry and rice?” You turn your head to watch as he nods.

“I’ll be fine. It has chicken in it.”

“Are you going in tomorrow?” Mirio asks, standing to his full height, slowly removing his hand from your belly.

“Yeah,” Tamaki sighs, leaning against the counter, his eyes half lidded. “But not for long.” he runs a hand through his indigo hair. “We have an appointment tomorrow.”

“Really?” Mirio turns to look at you and you nod.

“Yeah, we’re planning on meeting there. I’ll probably take a taxi or something.”

“No way,” Mirio says, looking offended at the idea. “I’ll take you! Just tell me when to pick you up.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother,” you tell him.

“Come on, friends are bothersome at all,” he lightly punches your shoulder, “Just tell me when, okay?”

“I’d feel better if you went with Mirio actually.” Tamaki wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Please?” He lowers his head and nuzzles his nose into your shoulder.

“Okay, I suppose I wouldn’t mind. I should get there ten minutes before, so can you pick me up around 12:30?”

“You got it!” He looks down at your belly. “Guess we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow, huh?” He meets your gaze again. “So why are you nervous about asking Nejiire to be the godmother? Usually Tamaki is the nervous one.” Mirio grows a small grin when Tamaki sputters.

You tilt your head against Tamaki’s and grin. “He rubbed off on me, what can I say.”“It’s just been so long since we’ve seen each other and I don’t know, I’m nervous. What if she doesn’t think we’re as close as we used to be?” Tears brim your eyes and you blink them back.

“Cho,” Tamaki pulls away from you and slides his hand up your back and onto your shoulders, “she still loves you.

“Yeah, she talks about you all the time,” Mirio confirms. “She was so excited that you invited her over.”

“I know,” you whisper and rub your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just all the emotions.”

Tamaki hums and his fingers press into your skin. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Wanna know what can make you feel better?” Mirio asks, flashing you a toothy grin.

You sniff. “What is it?”

“I can put my hand through your belly,” Mirio holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers in the air, a wide grin on his face.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “I think that’s more for you than anything Mirio,” you smirk.

“You won’t even feel it!”

“Sorry Mirio, but I want to be the first one to touch my kid,” you smile at him playfully.

“Mirio, please don’t put your hand in my partner’s belly.” You hold your belly with your hands and take a step back, giving Mirio an apologetic grin. “I don’t think any of us wants to see that,” Tamaki says, taking a step in front of him, a tired grin on his face.

Mirio laughs and puts his hands up, “Okay, okay, I get it!”

“Anyways, if you really wanted to make me feel better, you would’ve brought over those pastries that I liked,” you flash him a side grin. “You always do. And your godchild just loves them.”

“Come on, I was told you two would be providing the food,” Mirio scoffs.

“You bring nothing for your godchild,” you shake your head slowly. “I can’t believe it.”

“You’re the absolute worst.” Mirio sticks his tongue at you.

“I think they’re great,” Tamaki interjects.

“I love you,” you purse your lips and Tamaki meets yours in a quick kiss. “Eh, I’ll let it slide this time Mirio. But,” you hold up your index finger, “only because you helped me feel better.”

There’s a knocking at the door and all three of you meet eyes and then you take a step forward, swallowing nervously and hands clenching at your sides. You try to make your way to the door only for Tamaki places his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He places a quick kiss to the corner of your lips and walks towards the door.

Mirio takes quiet steps to the doorway and peers out, once satisfied that Tamaki is out of ear shot, he returns and stands next to you. “You know,” Mirio whispers, “he’s grown a lot since high school,” you give him a puzzled look and he smiles fondly. “He’s always been a bit shy,” he shakes his head and stifles a laugh when you give him a look, “okay, a lot shy; but ever since he’s met you, he just… He’s living up to his name.”

You smile and rub your tummy, your eyes softening when the child kicks. “Yeah, I get what you mean. He’s different from when I first met him. He really is going to outshine the sun one day.” You look up at Mirio and you two share smiles.

“Oh my! You’re already so big!” Nejire explains, running up to you and throwing her arms around you. The shopping bags in her hand lightly tap at your back and you chuckle.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You ask, holding onto her by the crook of her elbows.

“Yes! Oh Tamaki always goes on and on about you-”

“Nejire!” Tamaki’s cheeks bloom with bright red.

“Oh you two have been together for such a long time, it’s okay to go on about your partner.” Nejire sticks her tongue out at him and pulls away from you. “Anyways, I brought you gifts for the baby!” She hands you the bag and smiles brightly at you.

“Oh thank you so much Nejire! It’s so sweet that you brought us something,” you cast a glance towards Mirio who gasps in mock offense.

“You said it was all right!”

“Well I lied,” you shrug, placing the bags on the counter. “I mean, Mirio, you’re going to the baby’s godfather and not even a gift for the baby.” You sigh and wave off his protests. “Instead, you know what I get from him,” you look at Nejire and smirk, “I get him trying to put his hand inside my belly.”

She snorts in laughter and shakes her head and she clasps her hands in front of her mouth. “Mirio!” She falsely chastises him. “Well, at least I’ll be the favorite aunt!”

“Godmother,” youi interject, relaxing your shoulders when Tamaki walks over to you to wrap an arm around your waist.

Nejire gasps. “Really?”

You nod your head. “Of course, only if you want to. I understand that it might be-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to be the godmother!” She steps close to you and puts her hand on your tummy. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“Well this just calls for celebration!” Mirio exclaims, hands in fists as he practically bounces in the kitchen. “You two,” he points between you and Tamaki, “go sit down. We’ll take the plates over!”

You and Tamaki exchange a look. “No need to tell us twice. Come along dear,” you intertwine your hand with Tamaki and you both walk over to the dinner table.

You hear laughter from the kitchen mixed in with the clanging of plates and glasses. “She took the news well,” you tell him, thanking him as he pulls your chair out.

“Told you she would.” His fingertips run over your knuckles. “Guess you were nervous for nothing.” His hands are calloused and rough against yours but they touch you with the gentleness that he always held reserved for you.

“I guess so,” you hum, letting your hand relax under his touch, all the stress and tension that you help, fading away. You look up at him, your gaze full of adoration with a gentle curve of your lips.

He raises a thin brow at you when he catches you staring, and his grin matches your own. “What is it?” He asks, sliding his hand to cusp yours.

“I just really love you is all,” you admit, the beating your chest turning rapid. you could tell him you love him for a thousand years, and you don’t think the giddiness of saying it will ever go away- the feeling of eagerness to hear him say it back, the thrill when he replies with his own words of love, the light feeling you get when he presses his lips against yours- you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it.

His smile turns gentler and he scoots his chair closer to you. “Yeah, I love you too.” He presses his lips against yours in a kiss, letting his lips linger for a moment, and when he pulls away he smiles at your pout and leans forward to touch his forehead with yours. His hand slides and rests on top of your tummy. “I love you both.”

There’s a flash of light and you both pull away to see Mirio holding his phone and showing it to Negire who coos at how cute you look together. Tamaki turns red and hangs his head down. You laugh and squeeze his hands in yours.

“Enough teasing, let’s eat please?” You ask, holding your hands in front of you to reach out for a bowl.

There’s words of agreements and food is passed around and chairs scrape against the floorboards. The day outside blends from an orange to a dark blue while the orange light from the light above bathes the table in a warm glow. There’s laughter and soft touches under the table as your plates are left empty. It’s been a nice day and when Tamaki flashes you a grin, you think it’s been a nice life.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki fluff #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #i hope you like it!!

91 notes · View notes

thompsborn · 4 years ago

Note

fic where harley is a doctor that works w helen cho that sees peter often because of how much he gets hurt from being spider-man? and they fall in love bc they r already smitten for each other bc why wouldn't they be

i didn’t know how much i needed an au like this until you sent it omg

[read on ao3]

—

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when the alarm goes off.

“Mister Keener,” Friday says, as he’s cursing over the hot coffee that’s soaking into the front of his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not hot enough to actually burn him, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. “Your assistance is needed in the Medical Wing.”

Harley frowns. “What time is it?”

“Four fifty eight in the morning, Mister Keener.”

“Jesus, really?” Harley sets his mug down and turns his arm over to look at his watch. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, surprised. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t realize it was... Jesus. Alright.”

Friday sounds almost amused when she tells him, “Doctor Cho is insisting you hurry.”

Harley sighs. “Yeah, okay. On my way.”

At this time of the night, the only medical staff on hand are the ones who live close by—like Helen, who has an apartment less than a two minute walk away—and those who live on site, like Harley, who’s had his own floor in the tower since he was fifteen and told Tony over a phone call that he was thinking about coming to New York once he was done with high school. Because of this, Harley isn’t all that surprised to find that it’s only him and Helen that show up in the MedBay—if anything, it’s what he expected.

And he should have expected who, exactly, they’re treating in the middle of the night, but he still finds himself mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Peter’s sheepish grin.

“Of course it’s you,” Harley says, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who else would be waking me up like this?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter says, sheepish grin turning a bit snarky. “You weren’t asleep.”

Harley purses his lips. “I could’ve been.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get the chance to respond before Helen is hovering by his side, snapping her gloves into place and instructing, “Friday, give me the run down.“

“Mister Parker has several second degree burns along his left leg and left arm,” Friday responds. “His right wrist is broken, and there appears to be a laceration along his abdomen.”

Harley winces in sympathy. “Rough night?”

Peter tries to shrug, but the movement makes his features twist up in a flash of pain. His voice comes out a bit strained when he says, “You could say that. There was—house fire. Not fun.”

“Get everyone out?” Harley asks, if only to provide a slight distraction as Helen assesses the broken wrist, likely checking to see if it needs to be reset or if it’ll be able to heal properly as it is. Peter tries for a grin.

“All of ‘em. Even the kids pet turtle.”

Harley pats Peter’s right knee, careful to remember that it’s his left leg with the burns. “Job well done, Spider-Man.”

“Harley,” Helen says, grabbing his attention. She’s apparently deemed Peter’s wrist not a main concern and is already peeling Peter’s suit off of him. Harley snaps into focus instantly, listening intently as Helen tells him, “I need you to take care of the laceration while I get started on the burns. When that’s done, we need to get that wrist in a cast until it heals.”

Peter pouts. “A cast? Really?”

Helen looks at him sharply. “Last time we didn’t put you in a cast, you managed to re-break your arm before it could heal. Twice.”

Peter’s pout vanishes with a meek chuckle. “It was an accident?” he offers.

“You, Peter Parker,” Helen says, averting her attention back to his burns as she speaks, “are somehow my best and my worst patient of all time. And I’m Tony Stark’s doctor, too, so that says a whole lot about you.”

“Hey—” Peter cuts off with a hiss as Harley starts to disinfect the large cut on his side. Harley offers an apologetic half smile that Peter waves away with another wince and a wobbly sort of grin. “I’m not worse than Mr. Stark.”

Helen hums, high pitched and teasing.

“I’m not,” Peter insists. “I’m not!”

“Believe what you want,” Helen tells him.

Peter huffs. “Why are you being mean to me? Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice to their patients? Isn’t that, like, a thing?”

Harley snorts when Helen says, “Next time, don’t wake me up at four in the morning with second degree burns and a broken wrist, and maybe then I’ll be nicer to you, hm?”

—

The thing is, Harley didn’t plan on this.

As in, growing up, he was sure that what he wanted was to be a mechanic. He loved to build, take apart, recreate, understand. It’s all he ever did. Hell, when Tony Frickin’ Stark broke into his garage, the guy ended up making Harley his own mechanic heaven to say thanks for helping him out.

And Harley still loves all of that, to be fair—he spends a lot of his free time tinkering in Tony’s lab now, helping him out with whatever the man’s working on and often working on his own fun little projects on the side—but it’s not his main drive. It’s not the center of his world.

He thinks it started when he saved Tony.

In a way, anyway—he had only been twelve at the time, and it’s not like twelve year olds are exactly apt on having life changing realizations that change the course of their future. Still, he was a twelve year old that saved Tony Stark’s life, and there was some kind of thrill, almost. It was hard to explain then, and Harley isn’t sure if he could put it into words now, but the feeling had made his fingers feel all tingly and his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was similar to when he built his first successful bot and it came whirring to life, only the feeling was intensified.

He felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He knew he wanted to save lives.

“You’re getting better,” Helen tells him, after Harley’s helped the medical team with bandaging up the members of the Avengers that just returned from a mission. None of the wounds had been major, mostly just scrapes and bruises, but it’s the most amount of people Harley has helped treat at once, which is a big step.

Harley shrugs, drying off his hands, having just finished washing them. “You’re a good teacher.”

Helen chuckles at that. “How are your classes?”

“Good,” Harley answers, nodding his head. “Kinda boring. I know most of it already, thanks to all the training you’ve given me, but that‘s not really new. I knew everything they taught me in high school, too.”

“You sound like Peter when you say that,” Helen muses, an amused quirk to her brow.

Harley rolls his eyes. “Y’know, people keep saying that, but I only see him when he’s bleeding out and that doesn’t make it feel like we’re all that similar.”

“Oh, you’re similar, alright,” Helen says, laughing a bit. “You’re both genius kids who bust your asses off to save people’s lives.”

Wrinkling his nose, Harley says, “But I don’t do it in spandex. Key difference there, doc.”

Helen holds her hands up in some kind of surrender. “Just saying, you two are alike.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that next time he breaks his leg,” Harley quips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday interjects, “but Spider-Man is reportedly injured and heading to the tower now. ETA of six and a half minutes.”

Harley rolls his eyes up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. Helen can only laugh.

—

“Ow. Ow, ow—oh, Jesus, that’s—ow—!”

“Sorry,” Harley says, only averting his eyes for a second to flash Peter an apologetic look before focusing back on the stitches he’s giving him.

Peter curses, slamming his left fist into his own thigh as Harley pushes the needle through. “This sucks,” he complains, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This is—why is this worse than getting stabbed? Why do I prefer getting stabbed over this? This blows.”

“You need to stop moving,” Harley tells him.

Making an indignant sort of noise, Peter asks, “How the hell am I—I can’t stop moving! This hurts, man, like—like, really fuckin’ hurts!”

“Moving makes it worse, dipshit,” Harley retorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know what else makes it worse?” Peter glares at the wall. “Not having pain killers.”

Harley does roll his eyes now. “Not my job. I just give you the drugs, I don’t make them.”

“I know, but Mr. Stark isn’t here for me to bitch at, so I’m complaining to you about it instead.”

Harley can’t help the way that he snorts at that, finishing off the last of the stitches as he does so. “I usually don’t like to listen to someone complain while I’m working.”

“Sucks to suck,” Peter replies. “Are you done?”

“Yep.” Harley leans back, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “Any other injuries? Stab wounds? Broken bones?”

Peter hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. Friday?”

“All clear, Mr. Parker.”

Harley frowns. “The fact that you had to ask worries me.”

Peter shrugs. “I get hurt a lot. Kinda used to it.”

“Still,” Harley says. “That’s concerning. Like, you still feel pain, right? You would know if you were hurt somewhere else, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, trust me, I feel pain,” Peter snorts. “But some things just... don’t matter? Like... I dunno, but if it’s not serious, it’s like my brain filters it out on it’s own to focus on other things. Which, probably, y’know, not good, but, like, oh well.”

“Definitely not good,” Harley murmurs, frowning to himself as he squints around the room for a moment. “Well, if you have nothing else, then you’re good to go. And, honestly, thank god that’s all you have, ‘cause this is the first time I’ve done anything without Helen around and anything more than stitches would’ve had me flipping shit and fucking it all up.”

Peter lets out a light laugh, pulling his shirt down, over the gash that Harley just finished stitching. “You wouldn’t fuck it up,” he says, sounding light and humorous yet entirely serious, too. “You’re, like, really good at your job, Harley.”

Harley scrunches his nose up on his face. “Ew. Don’t be nice to me. It’s gross.”

Peter laughs again, a little bit louder, though the way it makes his stomach jump has him wincing when it pulls at his stitches. “I’m serious!” he insists. “Like, I know you’re still a med student and stuff, but Helen is probably the best person to be training you, so you’re, like, more qualified than most normal doctors. You have the experience that most people still in med school don’t have. I mean, you patch up the freakin’ Avengers, Harley! You gotta be good at this to do that!”

“I help patch up the Avengers,” Harley corrects. “The only person I’ve ever fixed up by myself is you, thanks to your insane ability to always get hurt.”

“It’s a talent,” Peter shrugs. “And hey, I bet it keeps you entertained.”

Harley snorts. “Entertained is not the right word for it, Spidey. Impressed, maybe, by just how much trouble you’re capable of getting yourself into.”

Peter grins. “Gotta impress people somehow, right?”

—

Harley wouldn’t call it bonding.

Because it’s not. It’s not bonding. It’s small talk, and pleasant conversations, while Harley sets a broken bone or treats another burn. It’s filling the silence because, apparently, Helen trusts Harley to handle Peter on his own, unless it’s a major injury that requires more than one person on hand, and Harley isn’t sure why he’s being trusted with this, but he’s pretty intent on not fucking it up.

But it isn’t bonding. They’re just... acquaintances. Who talk. Like, a lot, because Peter comes in at least four times a week needing treatment for something, and that gives them a lot of time to talk. Maybe Harley learns a lot about Peter during this time, like his favorite song, and what his comfort hoodie is, and why he became Spider-Man in the first place. Maybe Peter learns where Harley is from, how he met Tony, and what made him decide to be a doctor over a mechanic.

Maybe, after a few weeks, they start having inside jokes, built not only from the time they spend alone together, but also from the months upon months that Harley was helping Helen treat Peter, too. Sometimes, Peter snorts so hard that he reopens his stitches and Harley has to fix it. Sometimes, Harley can’t stop laughing when he needs to have steady hands and he ends up hunching over on himself and wheezing because of whatever it is that Peter said. One day, Peter comes in when he isn’t injured, dressed in casual clothes with a few textbooks from his ESU courses in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I’m headed up to see Mr. Stark,” he tells Harley, “but I thought I’d give you this,” and he holds out the cup of coffee with a big, cheesy sort of grin.

“Why?” Harley asks, though he accepts the cup gratefully.

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably have bled out ten times over if it weren’t for you, and you looked, like, really tired yesterday, so I thought you might need it.”

He is tired—exhausted, really, because his classes may not be hard but there are some big tests coming up that he needs to study for and it’s hard to find the time to study in between training with Helen and doing all the millions of other assignments that are being tossed his way. He takes a sip of the coffee, hums in satisfaction at the way it warms him up, and says, “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” Peter tells him.

So, maybe they’re friends. Maybe—maybe—Harley is starting to look forward to seeing him and keeps trying to think of a casual way to offer they hang out sometime, outside of the med bay. Maybe Peter starts bringing Harley a cup of coffee every time he goes to visit Tony, and maybe Harley starts to feel a little thrill whenever he hands the coffee over and their fingers briefly brush.

Maybe it is bonding, but it’s not a crush. It’s not.

(”You’re adorable when you’re in denial,” Helen tells him.

Harley sinks in his seat and tries to disappear. “Shut up.”)

—

The letters of his textbook are blurring in front of his eyes when the alarm rings.

He jumps at the sound, looks up at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes and furrowed brows, expecting Friday to calmly inform him that his assistance is needed in the med bay, like usual. Instead of that, though, the alarm continues to blare, and all Friday says is, “Urgent. Urgent. Urgent.”

Which is code for: someone’s about to die if he doesn’t hurry.

Instantly, he jumps to his feet, feeling wide awake despite being on the brink of dozing off just a few short moments ago. “Okay,” he tells himself, rushing out of his room and sprinting towards the elevator, which is already open and waiting for him. He only just barely thinks to swipe his tablet along the way, clutches it in his hands while he says, “Okay, okay, okay—who, uh—Friday? Who is it?”

“Iron Man and Spider-Man are both heavily injured and require immediate assistance,” Friday informs him gravely. “Doctor Cho is already treating Mr.Stark and has told me to inform you that you will be in charge of Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, god,” Harley breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving himself a second to take a deep breath while the elevator takes him down to the proper floor. “Jesus. Okay. I need, uh—give me a list of Peter’s injuries, Fri.”

“Of course, Mr. Keener.”

The list is sent to his tablet immediately, and it’s—extensive. Third degree burns and multiple shattered ribs and various bullet wounds, only some of which are clean through, meaning that there’s various bullets that they need to remove before Peter starts to heal around them. The more he reads, the faster his heart thunders in his chest while his mind automatically sorts through it to think of what needs to be prioritized, what to treat first, and how to keep Peter alive.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he has a game plan figured out, and he only falters for a short moment when he sees Peter on the hospital bed, writhing around and sobbing in pain. The rest of the medical staff in the room freeze, likely already aware that Helen put him in charge, and wait with bated breath.

“Alright,” Harley says, mostly to himself. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

—

Maybe it is a crush.

Harley is finding it hard to deny it now, as he sits beside Peter’s hospital bed, his hands feeling a little bit shaky where they’re clasped together and hanging between his knees. They had to undergo emergency surgery, and Peter’s heart had stopped four times throughout the procedure. Bringing him back had been the most panic inducing thing Harley has ever experienced in his life, and he couldn’t even show it because he was the one that was put in charge.

But they did, all four times —they got his heart going again and they got out all the bullets and treated all the burns and did everything they could to stabilized the broken bones. They gave him multiple IV’s, all of which he’s still attached to, and he hasn’t woken up since he passed out from the pain shortly after Harley’s arrival—and he passed out looking at Harley, too, with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy, filled with agony and despair.

Harley would do anything to never have to see that look again.

“How’s he doing?” Helen asks, stepping into the room. She looks tired, undoubtedly exhausted from doing whatever she could to stabilize Tony just a few rooms down. Harley feels that exhaustion in his very bones.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Harley tells her. “Lost him a few times, though.”

Helen hums sympathetically. “But you got him back.”

Harley hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Good,” Helen says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good.” She stays like that for a moment, doesn’t move, and Harley appreciates the gesture but kind of wants to be alone. Maybe she senses that, because a moment later, she’s pulling her hand back and asking, “Are you staying here?”

“‘Til he wakes up,” Harley tells her.

Helen smiles at him warmly. “Make sure you get some rest, too, okay?”

Harley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep until he sees Peter awake and talking again, but he still nods at her and says, “Yeah, alright.”

After Helen leaves the room, after it’s just Harley and Peter again, he finds himself reaching forward and taking Peter’s hand in his, and, other than the innocent brush of fingers when passing a coffee cup, this is the first time they’ve touched outside of Harley treating Peter’s wounds. It’s a bit of a startling realization, but Harley finds comfort in the contact, listens to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and starts to relax with the reassurance that he really did good, that Peter is going to be okay and Harley is the one that saved him.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but with that relief flooding his veins and Peter’s hand in his, he finds himself dozing off and doesn’t bother forcing himself awake.

—

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s waking up, his senses still muddled with sleep. It feels almost as if he’s floating in unconsciousness, warm and comfortable and—

“Harley?”

And he wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping open and instantly searching, only coming to a stop when they land on wide brown eyes looking right back at him. “Oh,” he breathes, blinking once and sitting up straight despite the way it makes his back complain. “Oh, my god. You’re awake.”

Peter tilts his head, just a little bit, and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Right. That.” Harley clears his throat and scrubs his free hand over his features, trying to wake himself up with a sheepish little smile. “It’s, um—not important, actually. How do you feel? Any pain, discomfort, anything like that?”

For a moment, Peter doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at their hands before rasping out a hoarse little, “’m kinda—kinda thirsty. M’throat hurts.”

Instantly, Harley gets to his feet and pulls open the mini fridge in the room to grab a bottle of water. He takes it back to Peter, hands it over, and feels somewhere stuck between doctor mode and something else, the worry and the uncertainty and the fear from hearing the flat line all mixing together until he feels nauseous with it. Peter accepts the water bottle gratefully, takes tentative sips from it and only winces slightly when he swallows it. “Better?” Harley asks.

Peter smiles, a bit small and tired, but just as genuine as always. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Harley murmurs, hovering by the chair he had been sitting in before. “Is there anything else? Just, like—anything at all? How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Peter tells him. “Like, um... groggy, y’know? And... out of it.”

Harley nods, a bit relieved that the dose of pain killers he chose was the right amount. “That’s to be expected. You were really roughed up, Pete.”

Peter frowns down at his water, brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush,” Harley tells him. “I guess Doc Ock was out and about, so you went to confront him and he got enough hits in to alert Tony, so he went to help you out, but Ock apparently teamed up with Rhino and they were able to catch you guys off guard and get the upper hand. Rhodey and a few others went to help out, but they didn’t get there in time to stop you guys from nearly getting killed, so, when you came in, it was... not pretty. But, you’re both gonna be fine.”

He wants to say that it’s not a crush. It can’t be a crush, isn’t supposed to be one, even if seeing the way Peter lets out a puff of air and relaxes back into his pillows is kind of a... not so bad sight. He looks tired and a bit beat up and a little too pale, but he’s good. He’s alive. Being alive looks good on him.

Maybe, Harley admits. Maybe it is a crush.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, head lulling back into the pillows. He holds out a hand and Harley isn’t sure what the action is for, but he doesn’t think before reaching forward and tangling their fingers together.

Harley clears his throat. “What for?”

“Not letting me die,” Peter says.

The mere idea of letting Peter die makes Harley’s heart stutter in his chest. “Of course,” he mumbles, a bit stricken. “I’ll always save you. It’s my job.”

Peter squeezes Harley’s hand, falls asleep with a sigh and a smile on his face.

Harley still doesn’t leave.

(It’s definitely, one hundred percent, a huge, gigantic crush, and maybe... maybe he’s okay with that. Maybe liking Peter Parker isn’t all that bad.)

#parkner #my writing #mild descriptions of injuries #non graphic near death experience

107 notes · View notes

narukoibito · 5 years ago

Text

charity work

Wow, so I wrote a published a thing after 10+ years away from fanfiction. Please check it out if you’re so inclined!

Summary: He'd only meant it as a joke, but here she was. Ginny Weasley, his celebrity crush, armed with economy toilet paper rolls and three dozen eggs, ready to commit a misdemeanor all in the name of charity. Muggle AU Harry/Ginny

Tumblr prompt: "You're famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you'll go egg my ex-partner's house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm" & hp_fangal's version where Harry is the famous one, Shooting for the Stars.

FF.net | AO3

Harry flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, letting his bag slide carelessly to the ground. Sirius popped his head out from the kitchen.

“You alright there, Harry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled from his dejected position.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and turned to Hermione, who lifted her head up from her book for a moment to give Harry a disapproving look.

“He’s been brooding all week,” she announced.

“Cho?” he asked knowingly.

“He hasn’t said, but…Cho,” Hermione nodded.

Harry made a rude gesture at his childhood best friend and godfather, who sniffed disdainfully and chortled respectively.

Yes, it was indeed his girlfriend — sorry, ex-girlfriend — who was once again souring his mood, but Sirius and Hermione didn’t know yet. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them that he’d caught her cheating on him with none other than Cedric Diggory. Not only had Cedric taken Harry’s position as a starter on the school team when Harry tore his ACL several months back, but then the recruiters who had originally come to see Harry had taken a shine to Cedric, and now several teams were making him offers. Hermione and Sirius had been going on for months about how Cho wasn’t being particularly supportive during Harry’s recovery period, but Harry had waved them off. Turns out they were more right than he could have imagined, and he simply could do without the knowing and pitying looks.

“This’ll cheer you up,” Sirius said, walking over to the wireless.

“I think something’s burning,” Harry grumbled as Sirius flicked through several stations. Sirius let out a yelp and jumped back to the kitchen, but not without first finding what he was looking for.

“Now tell me, Miss Weasley,” an unctuous female voice crowed, “about your victories off the pitch.”

Despite himself, Harry perked up. Ginny Weasley was his favorite football starter since she made a huge splash going pro at the young age of sixteen — and immediately proved her worth by leading her team to victory at her first game. He may or may not have several posters of her hanging in his closet.

“Oh you heard that I cook the meanest eggplant dish on the team?” Ginny’s sweet voice lilted over the wireless. When Harry laughed, Hermione peered at him over her book again, amused.

“That’s a very…lovely quality, my dear, but no, my avid listeners want to know all about your tumultuous love life. We all know how much you enjoy playing the field…”

Harry let out an ungraceful snort.

“I did always like playing with balls, yes,” Ginny quipped. “I’m pretty good at kicking them, so they say.”

The reporter cleared her throat loudly. “Too true. I believe one of your past paramours was reportedly found writhing on the floor when you parted ways.”

“Oh no, that was simply a handsy fan who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘no,’” Ginny corrected her dryly.

“Your latest lover, Puddlemere team’s Michael Corner, and you seem to have had a bit of a nasty split,” the reporter’s voice oozed with false sympathy. “The photos of him and his assistant, Lavender Brown, in a passionate embrace —”

“You mean snogging in the dark corner of a bar?”

“Oh this must be so difficult for you,” the reporter sniffed. “You seem to have such trouble holding onto a man — they seem to prefer more feminine women over your company! Tell me, does it have to do with your being raised with six older brothers? Perhaps the rowdiness of such a boisterous family environment was not conducive for healthy relationships with men?”

Harry threw a stray cushion at the wireless, but from his horizontal position, he missed.

“Miss Skeeter, I’m not sure how my upbringing has anything to do with my boyfriends deciding to be cheating gits rather than about being forthcoming about their feelings.”

“Of course, dear. Please, tell our listeners as such a seasoned veteran, how you cope with heartbreak, especially when you uncover such deceit?”

“I’m a big fan of karma. People tend to find that what comes around goes around.”

“So mature of you.”

“And if they wake up with their house egged and teepeed, let’s hope they realize the error of their ways.”

Harry could picture Ginny’s trademark mischievous smile, and he felt his own lips curling up.

“Surely, Miss Weasley, you aren’t condoning such a crime?”

“All hypothetical, Miss Skeeter. But who am I to complain if the universe takes it upon itself to serve justice? Having grown up with my brothers, I find that anything is possible if you have enough nerve.”

As the interview wound to an end, Harry felt inexplicably lighter. He even managed to shift himself to a sitting position and found himself scrolling through Ginny Weasley’s public Instagram profile. He was momentarily distracted by a recent posting of her sticking her tongue out at the camera while cuddling with a kitten, where she alerted her fans to tune into her upcoming interview with the radio host of Me, Myself, and I.

He punched in a simple message in the comments: Caught my girlfriend snogging my replacement on my uni’s football team while I was supposed to be convalescing, and now I want to help push karma along the way this Friday. Care to lend a hand?

“You’re looking better,” Sirius observed, popping his head back into the living room.

Harry tossed his phone to the side and smiled. “Is dinner even edible anymore?”

During dinner (extra “crispy” chicken Sirius calls it, mashed potatoes, and vegetables), Harry finally caved in and told Sirius and Hermione what happened. They were so outraged on his behalf, it actually dulled his own anger enough for him to admit he was difficult to be around while he recovered, and he was probably not the best boyfriend at the time. They wouldn’t hear any of it though.

After Hermione headed home and Sirius to his study, Harry receded to his room where he took a moment to appreciate his hidden poster. Then he headed to the shower, where he may or may not have decided to relax by picturing a particularly sassy redhead. When his head hit his pillow, he immediately drifted off to a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

Harry let out a big yawn as he rose from his last class of the day. He paused to stretch out his right leg, which had a tendency of getting stiff after sitting too long post-surgery.

As his classmates trickled out, he whipped out his phone, already pondering where to grab take-out for his solo night in since Sirius was planning an evening out (don’t expect me home tonight). A red notification blared out at him, which was odd considering his rare use and minuscule follower-ship on Instagram. He clicked on it, wondering if someone commented on his recent post of Sirius with a big, black shaggy dog.

It was a message from…

The phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Ginny Weasley? Bringing the phone closer to his face, he stared at the message beside her smirking profile picture.

I’m in. When and where?

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. Was he dreaming? His celebrity crush since he was seventeen, the one he had just wanked to two days ago (and countless times over the years), wanted to help him egg and teepee his ex’s place?

After a moment’s hesitation, he began punching in the details of the closest station to Cho’s.

Meet around 10?

His thumb hovered over the send button. What did he have to lose? He pressed down. He swallowed hard as three hovering dots appeared.

See you soon.

“Fuck,” Harry said aloud to an empty classroom.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe someone had hacked into her account and was just having a lark. Maybe he was going to be mugged on arrival.

“Yes, that must be it,” he assured himself as he ascended the stairs to the front of the station.

“Are you H-P-Lightening?”

Harry looked around and nearly tripped over the last step. For a second, he thought he might have been right about being mugged, given the hooded figure that appeared on his right. But the figure pushed back her hood, and fiery gold-and-red hair spilling out like a curtain.

It was her. Ginny Weasley.

Standing in front of him in an oversized hoodie, a bag of toilet paper (economy size, she didn’t skimp), and several cartons of eggs. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief, and her lips were curled up in her devil-may-care smirk. She was close enough that he could not only make out the splattering of attractive freckles across her face, but he could catch what seemed to be the sweet smell of flowers.

“Er —” was all Harry could manage.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re not him?”

“No — I mean, yes, I am. That’s me. Harry Potter.”

Her smile brightly. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Yeah, nice,” he said stupidly. “I’m a huge fan. I didn’t think, er, I never thought —”

“I seem to be a terrible influence,” Ginny laughed, and the way it made her nose crinkle sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Since I put the idea in your head, the least I could do was help out and prevent you from getting caught.”

“Do you always rescue brokenhearted blokes on your public profile?”

“Only the really particularly pathetic ones,” she grinned back. “My publicist is always encouraging me to take on more charity work.”

“Smart,” Harry nodded sagely. “It’s good to engage with the people from time to time. Humanize you.”

She was laughing again, and he felt ridiculously chuffed that he was making Ginny Weasley of all people laugh. It did loads for his self-esteem considering Cho was always either bemused or offended by his snarky remarks.

“Exactly,” she said, holding out an extra hoodie for him. He thanked her and pulled it over this head, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be so pleased that they were matching. As he took some of the supplies from her, and they began walking, she continued, “I don’t know, your comment kind of stuck out to me.”

He glanced at her when she seemed to hesitate and was surprised when she quickly looked away, a bit of color on her cheeks.

“And the fact that you didn’t give off any stalker murder vibes was a plus.”

He laughed. “But really, thank you,” Harry said. “I was, er, brooding, as my friends and family like to call it because of Cho, and your interview cheered me up — the way you didn’t let that awful reporter get under your skin was truly something else.”

“Ah yes, Rita Skeeter,” Ginny smiled stonily. “Should have known better than to bet against my twin brothers.”

“Bet?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t believe them when they said Michael, my now notorious ex, was shifty. Swore it wasn’t true, and they bet I’d have to go on Skeeter’s show if I was wrong. They constantly goad me about my poor judgment in men, which was really what got me riled up enough to take them on. Then a week later, I caught Michael doing some yoga with his new assistant. ‘Course they tried really hard to explain why they were working on her downward dog naked.”

Harry grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said airily. “He was a prat. If he’d just broken up with me like a decent human being, I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the latest tabloids. Besides,” she glanced at him curiously, “seems like I wasn’t the only one who’s had some bad luck with romance lately.”

“Ah yes, my tale of woe. I caught my ex snogging the guy who took my starter position after I tore my ACL. All around the time when there were recruiters coming around. Her timing and choice couldn’t have been better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand touching his arm. He felt heat shoot through him.

“Ah, it’s not really fun hanging around a depressed sod.” One side of his mouth twisted up with a touch of bitterness. “She didn’t much enjoy my moods.”

Ginny snorted. “Right, because what mattered then was her having fun.”

Harry shrugged. Aside from some awkward, fumbling, and a bit sloppy kisses, he wasn’t really sure how much fun Cho seemed to have around him. She’d always been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, like about his parents or how terrible he felt about his injury or the lost his dream opportunity to go pro. Her insistence often made him clam up or shut down.

Ginny started asking him questions about his uni and his team, and soon they were chatting like old friends about football strategies and tactics, favorite moves, new players with potential. It was very possible he revealed just how well he knew her team’s stats, but if she noticed, she graciously doesn’t comment.

“Here we are,” he realized, skidding to a stop in front of a blue house. Ginny pulled him back behind a tree. He peered at her curiously, but she was scanning the quiet street and the house.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone is home,” she announced.

“There was a game today, with a party that tends to go pretty late.”

“Well isn’t that perfect?” She smiled at him as she pulled the hood back over her head, and he mirrored her motion.

With remarkable coordination and teamwork considering they didn’t speak a word but rather communicate with meaningful glances and stifled laughter, they began decorating the bushes, garden, porch, trees, and roof with toilet paper. Then they returned to the pavement with the egg cartons.

“Care to go first, Harry?” Ginny asked, a softness in her eyes despite her artful tossing and catching an egg with ease.

He picked up an egg and hesitated. The anger and betrayal churned through him, but there was a part of him that still wondered if maybe he should let it go.

“Hm, worried you’re unable to throw from here?” she asked casually, her eyes flashing with mischief.

Was that a challenge? She gave him an assessing glance before turning to the house.

“Maybe you don’t think you can hit that awful thing,” she said, pointing at a crow sticker attached to a window, grinning wickedly.

“Watch it, Weasley,” Harry said roughly. He wound his arm back and with impressive accuracy, hit the crow sticker on the window. “Hah!”

“Seemed a bit aggressive there,” she laughed.

“That thing always gave me the creeps,” he admitted sheepishly, remembering how the shadow of the crow seemed to follow him in that room. “Now then, you may be a great starter, but what about your arm aim?”

Her egg splattered noisily right at the center of the door.

“If we only conditioned our legs, we’d be pretty lopsided.”

He laughed as they continued to goad each other with more and more difficult places. But soon, they began to throw with more ferocity, each seeming to exorcise some past demons.

His egg cracked against the porch stair where she first kissed him in the rain.

“I wish she had never kissed me.”

Her egg smashed against a different window.

“I wish I had broken things off when he kept pestering me about wearing more dresses.”

Another cracked against the roof.

“Wish I hadn’t pushed myself too far for those stupid recruiters!”

One landed against the door handle.

“What does my love life have to do with how I play, Skeeter?”

As they went through the eggs, they spouted all the things wrong with their previous relationships before moving to other frustrations until all three cartons of eggs were empty, and the house was a comically gooey, papered mess.

Harry dragged a hand through his tousled hair, dazed by how much better he felt. He met Ginny’s eye and warmed at the sight of her flushed cheeks and pleased smile. She reached out and took his hand, and without a word, he let her draw him away, leaving the tangled mess of feelings about Cho and his doomed football career behind. Her hand in his felt like the only real thing in the world.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, in comfortable silence back to the station. As they drew closer, he grew nervous and turned to face her.

“Thank you, Ginny,” he blurted earnestly.

“You’re welcome. It was really fun,” she said. She seemed to hesitate for the first time the entire evening, looking over his shoulder.

Panic shot through him — was this it? Would he ever see her again?

“Actually,” she said slowly, “I rode here. I could give you a lift if you like, instead of taking the train.”

“Rode?” He echoed, turning to follow her gaze. His mouth dropped open. There, parked surreptitiously, was a gleaming motorcycle. “Bloody hell, Sirius will love you.”

“Sirius?”

“Um, my godfather. He’s got a thing for motorcycles. Treats his like it’s a national treasure,” he explained, blushing. “I’ve been riding them since he took me in.”

Something shifted in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he may have imagined it. Back was the shining amusement.

“Well then, I take it you’re not afraid of a bit of speed.” She wound around him towards her ride. She opened the storage unit and tossed him a helmet. “You’ve always got to make sure you have a nifty getaway vehicle.”

“See, this is why I enlisted an expert.”

He provided her his address, and after a quick search on her phone, she mentioned she was familiar with the area. It turned out he lived close to an old friend of hers, a Luna Lovegood, who was responsible for those quirky magazines about mythical creatures that Sirius always got a hoot out of and Hermione would turn her head disapprovingly from.

Helmet secure, Ginny hopped on and looked at him expectantly. He slipped on his helmet and sat behind her. He floundered, wondering where he should grip the seat.

“You better hold onto me.” Her voice was muffled in her helmet, but it sounded crystal clear to him. “Wouldn’t want the next headliner to be how I killed a man by not practicing safety.”

“Right — hardly a way to repay you.” He tentatively slid tantalizingly closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. God she was fit. “That, ah, safe enough?”

Ginny nodded jerkily. “Yep, that’s great.”

She lifted her left leg, kicked into gear, and soon they were roaring through the winding roads of London.

Harry loved to feel the wind whip around him and the familiar rumbling underneath him. It made him feel like he was flying. But damn Ginny wasn’t kidding when she liked it fast, and he found himself gripping her a little tighter than he had expected but enjoying every moment of it — the feel on her in his arms, the elevated rush of adrenaline due to her speed. Watching the buildings, streets, and vehicles go by in a blur of lights made the night feel magical.

All too soon, Ginny was pulling up in front of his home. He hastily pulled away, hoping that his graceless way of removing his helmet would disguise his blush. She made it seem so effortless when she pulled her helmet off and threw her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders. They smiled at each other, not sure what to say, but he didn’t want the night to end. Harry couldn’t believe his luck, and maybe he shouldn’t push it, but when else was the universe going to wink in his direction?

“Would you like to come up?” He cringed. “I can make you a cup of tea, I mean — as a sincere thank you for being both my partner in crime and my savior.”

He braced himself for the rejection.

“Oh,” she said, sounding both surprised and breathless. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

Harry led her inside, nervously watching her glance around the cottage. “It belonged to my parents.”

“It’s lovely,” Ginny smiled, walking over to the mantle.

“It’s a good thing that Sirius isn’t home — he probably wouldn’t stop pestering us if he were.” He scrambled to tidy some of the papers and books on the coffee table.

“Is that him?” she asked, pointing to a photo of Sirius with a ten-year-old Harry in his arms. Harry was laughing really hard, his wire-frame glasses knocked askew, and Sirius’s attention was completely on Harry, a wide grin on his face and affection shining in his eyes. It was one of Harry’s favorite photos, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Ginny seeing him when he was a bespectacled, scrawny boy.

“Yes,” he said, as she continued to gaze at the photo thoughtfully. “Er, kitchen?”

She let him lead her away. “Your home is a lot cleaner than my parents’ place. Though I suppose that isn’t too difficult to achieve. I have six older brothers and all.”

“Sounds nice. It’s just been Sirius and me, sometimes a dog — he can never resist a stray — and occasionally my pseudo uncle when he needs a place to crash.”

She pulled the dark hoodie over her head, and his breath hitched when her jumper lifted to reveal a sliver of pale, freckled skin. Harry hastily set about heating up the kettle, trying to remember his train of thought.

“Can’t imagine what it would have been like with so many more people.”

“Rowdy and loud,” she said, her affection in her voice obvious. “Never a dull moment.”

“Was it hard? Being the only girl.” He rummaged in the cupboard, praying that Sirius hadn’t eaten the last of the biscuits.

“Sometimes, but it taught me to be…inventive.”

“Sneaky you mean?”

“When I had to be. They insisted for the longest time that I couldn’t play football with them, so I snuck out at night and practiced myself.”

“You certainly showed them,” Harry laughed, emerging victorious with a tin of biscuits he’d baked with Hermione a few days prior — hers had come out a bit rockish despite following the recipe exactly, but his were decent. “Did you always want to play professionally?”

“Yes.” She thanked him when he placed a steaming cup in front of her, offering sugar and milk. “What about you?”

Yes was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he paused. “I love football. I started playing as a kid, first with kicking the ball around the yard with Sirius.”

“Were you any good?”

“Um, was the youngest starter in secondary. Was scouted for my uni’s team.”

She gave a low whistle of surprise. “A lot of promise, then.”

“Hardly compares to you,” he smiled.

“If you want, I can refer you to some of the best physical therapists. You can be back to where you were in less than a year.”

Harry stared at the steam from his cup as he nibbled on a chocolate biscuit. For some reason, the prospect didn’t seem to strike a chord.

Ginny tilted her head. “It’s just a thought.”

“Oh — um, thank you. That’s really generous,” he cringed at his word choice, “I just —”

“This thing with your ex will pass, Harry.”

“I know — I mean, it kind of already has.” He fell silent, not really sure exactly what he was trying to convey. “I was really upset earlier about the whole thing — Cho and my replacement going pro in my stead. But right now, I just feel….relief?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling foolish and confused, but Ginny sipped her tea and gave him time to sort himself out.

“I love football and always will, but don’t know if…if I was all that upset about the recruiters so much as — ” He faltered, not sure where he was going with this. She reached over and squeezed his arm encouragingly. “As disappointing Sirius.”

“Your godfather?” she asked softly.

Harry nodded jerkily. “Yes. He was best mates with my dad. Practically brothers.”

He went quiet again, lost in his thoughts.

“I don’t know Sirius, but the way he looks at you in those photos makes it hard for me to think anything you’d do could disappoint him, Harry,” she said, a fierce look on her face.

A lump formed in his throat, and he cleared it several times, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

“My dad was about to go pro when…” Harry swallowed hard, his voice thick. He reached over and took her hand in his, marveling at how small and smooth her skin was. “When he and my mum got in an accident. A drunk driver on Halloween.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said and meant it. He was surprised considering he never talked about his parents, but with Ginny, it came so naturally. When she looked at him like that, he felt like he could tell her anything. “I suppose — I wanted to fulfill their dream — dad’s and Sirius’s.”

He stopped, taken aback by his admission. He glanced down at their joined hands as her thumb gently caressed his knuckle. Was that why he had been so upset lately? He and Cho had been on the outs even before his injury.

“Everyone always says how I look just like him. Except for my eyes. I’ve got my mum’s eyes.”

His heart pounded in his chest at the way her warm brown eyes stared up at his. “You’ve got the greenest eyes. They’re green as — ” She stopped, blushing.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Green as?”

“Er — I’m blaming it on the relentless practice making me barmy, but I first thought green as a freshly pickled toad.”

They both burst out laughing, the mood lightening immediately. Ginny withdrew her hand to cover her face, which glowed like the setting sun. His hand felt strangely bereft without hers.

“So what is your dream?” “Erm — I don’t know,” he admitted. He thought hard about his hobbies outside of football. “I guess…maybe becoming a cop or detective? Solve crimes, help people.” “So you’re not usually the type to egg someone’s house?” she teased. “Ha! No, not exactly, but it was worth it.” Getting to meet you. “Though don’t get me wrong, I’m not above breaking rules. Had a bit of a reputation back in the day.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A troublemaker, are you?”

“Trouble usually finds me,” he grinned back.

They continued to talk late into the evening. Between all the banter, Harry found himself revealing a lot more of himself than he ever expected. Ginny, to his delight, seemed equally comfortable, even sharing a dark experience about a run-in with Tom Riddle, a wealthy and well-liked wealthy football team owner, which had Harry gripping his mug so tightly he nearly shattered it. But she carefully uncurled his fingers and her touch softened the edge of his anger. He never wanted to stop talking to her, getting to know her. Before they knew it, it was nearly three in the morning.

“It’s getting late,” she finally said, and he agreed reluctantly. They exchanged numbers and even took a photo together (would it be too creepy if he set it as his background?).

As he walked her outside, he wondered if it would be too strange or forward to offer his bed (he would obviously take the couch) or maybe call a cab so that she’d have to come back soon to pick up her motorcycle. He was jarred from his thoughts when he nearly walked into her.

“I had a wonderful night,” Harry said. “Best one in…I can’t even remember.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Do you think we can — do this again?”

“Have more exes who have done you dirty?”

He barked out a laugh. “Maybe not an ex, but I know a bully or two. Really, I’d love to see you again. You can even decide whether we commit another crime or not.”

Her lips quirked up. “Not sure that’ll help you become a cop, but yes, I’d really like that.”

They stared at each other, neither wanting to move away first. When the pressure in his chest grew unbearable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began to turn and walk back towards his house.

“I guess I’d better… Goodnight, Ginny.”

Stupid berk, he fumed. So much for being brave.

“Harry?” she called out.

He turned around to see her running toward him, a hard, blazing look of determination in her face. She threw her arms around him as he opened his, automatically wrapping around her. And without thinking about his nerves, her fame, his crush that had blossomed into much, much more in only hours, he kissed her. There was nothing else, just Ginny, her lips sliding over his, her sweet-smelling hair in his hands, her body pressed against his. He never wanted it to end. After what felt like several sun-lit days, they broke apart.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “That was…”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

They finally pulled away. He probably looked like a besotted fool with his mile-wide grin, but he couldn’t work himself up to care when Ginny was grinning up at him like that.

“So I’ll call you? Maybe — maybe we can get together tomorrow, er — I guess today?”

She bit down on her lower lip as her grin grew. She reached up and adjusted his skewed glasses. “Yeah, today.”

“A proper date,” Harry felt the need to say.

“I’ll let you woo me and everything,” Ginny chuckled.

“Okay.”

But instead of moving away, they leaned in and kissed again. They’d go their separate ways…in due time.

#hinny #Harry/Ginny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #fanfiction #i wrote a thing #tumblr prompt #Muggle AU #football | soccer player Ginny #football | soccer player Harry #lots of sass and flirting #i can't believe i wrote this after all this time away #meet-cute #Ginny is the famous one #fluff #humor #My writing

118 notes · View notes

starkerparkerpony · 5 years ago

Text

AU where Tony (44-45 y/o) meets an aged up (23-24 y/o) Peter after Civil War, Tony is broken up with Pepper and all kinds of sorry for himself. Peter is a ESU graduate and currently has an internship with Oscorp and is a photographer for the Daily Bugle he is also spiderman and therefore perpetually exhausted and has very little patience.

(It's been a while since I wrote something, please consider reblogging)

I scold because I stan

Tony was starting to get sick of himself.

The self hatred and self pity were starting to crescendo, which was shedding a lot of light on how he got to and where Tony currently was in his life.

Spangle's betrayal shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.

The breakup with Pepper shouldn't have been as painful as it was.

He shouldn't miss the team as much as he did.

Vision injuring Rhodey shouldn't have felt like a personal failure but it did.

Speaking of personal failures, the accords shouldn't have scattered more than half of the planet's protectors in the wind all while labeling them 'war criminals' but they had.

And Tony was sick of himself because his centrally heated penthouse shouldn't be haunted by a Serbian cold but it was.

Because his heartbeat shouldn't feel like someone trying to jackhammer the arc reactor into his sternum sometimes... but it did.

So he decided to go out because his inner 'self hatred' voice was starting to sound too much like his father and that was about the last straw for Tony.

A baseball cap, coat and muffler later, Tony Stark was roaming the streets of New York but then it was too fucking cold for that so he quickly ducked into a cozy looking Irish pub.

He quickly scanned the place for a place to sit, it was pretty packed except for a booth which was occupied by one person who had their head down on the table and appeared to be, best case scenario, dozing off or worst case scenario, passed out.

Appropriate company for the kind of evening he was having he thought to himself as he made his way to the booth.

A waiter came to take his order and Tony took it upon himself to order a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. If he was gonna get hammered in a public place against all good sense then atleast he was gonna do it with some company... even if said company was seemingly unconscious.

When the waiter put down the glasses, his boothmate woke up. And Tony was confronted with a gorgeous guy with stunning brown eyes, he was sporting a rather sizable shiner over his left one but it did absolutely nothing to detract from his attractiveness.

"Jesus Christ... are you actually Tony Stark? Or am I hallucinating?" The guy asked quietly.

"I was hoping you wouldn't recognize me." Tony wrinkled his nose as he admitted.

"That's either a scathing comment on your perception of the general public's intellect or humility which absolutely does not go with the reputation that precedes you," the guy scoffed.

Huh... he's sharp and quick Tony thought.

"A little bit of both. The hat usually, miraculously works." Tony explained

"Don't judge me but I've had an entire wall dedicated to your face ever since your first Rolling Stone cover... the hat wasn't gonna work on me."

"That's a lot to unpack from a stranger"

"I'm Peter Parker."

"You know who I am."

Peter's face split into an overjoyed smile when Tony said that. It was a ridiculous 'only in New York' kinda thing to find yourself in the same booth as Iron Man in your local pub and Peter really needed this after the day he'd had. He was still completely terrified that at any moment Tony would accuse him of being Spiderman and make him sign the accords but he was also gonna let himself relax and enjoy meeting his hero a little.

"I'm not a billionaire expert but shouldn't you be drinking at a much upper scale place than this?" As amazed as he was, Peter was also perplexed by Tony's presence in the pub.

"There's a lot about me that absolutely does not go with the reputation that precedes me. You just admitted to me that you have a wall dedicated to my face and then brushed past it like it was nothing..." Tony said, incredulous.

"You're pretty, you're an amazing scientist, you build robots and are a superhero because of a badass armour you made that can fly. I'm a nerd and bisexual, it's is nothing, just nature basically," Peter waved him off as he started to pour the whiskey for them.

Surprisingly enough Tony's cheeks were a little flushed by the time Peter looked up, which made him think that maybe there isn't much accurate about the reputation that precedes Tony Stark.

"Hmm... who did that to your face?" Tony asked about the shiner Peter was sporting.

"Umm... a girl was getting mugged, I tried to play hero, you should see the other guy as the saying goes" Peter shrugged.

"Wow good for you... could've ended badly though." Tony's chest was unexpectedly and rather worryingly tight hearing about the danger Peter had been in.

"I know... I lost a loved one to a mugging gone wrong but the girl needed help, I didn't really have a choice."

It was like hearing those words was the straw that broke the camel's back for Tony. Because he completely understood what Peter meant. Tony never really felt like he had a choice either and whether or not Peter was ready to have a lot of information about the Avengers and his 'face wall' buddy Iron Man's wretched life choices, he was gonna be vented at like there was no tomorrow. Because Stark men don't go to therapy, they drink and speak very fast at unsuspecting civilians.

So Tony talked and Peter listened, about how the star spangled man with a plan is a fucking douchebag, how fucking hurt he felt that Nat, Clint and Wanda would still choose him over Tony, how he hasn't been able to look Rhodey in the eye since Germany and probably never will be, how easily things fell apart with Pepper even after he tried so hard, how the winter soldier fucking killed his mom and fucking spangles hid it from him, how he probably deserved it because that poor kid that got killed in Sokovia because of him... and as Tony talked he also drank so he was feeling pretty buzzed by the time he was done talking thankfully Peter was drinking right along with him.

It wasn't really a conversation, rather Iron Man just venting to him... he did notice a pattern though, everything Tony complained about, he tied up the line of thought with ultimately blaming himself for it.

Peter had always felt a certain kinship with the guy... but this man telling him how helpless his power had made him to the massive responsibility that came along with it, hit too close to home.

"Are you always this self loathe-y or is this just a today thing?" Peter asked when Tony stopped talking

"What? I don't... what?"

"Buddy... Captain America, if he really did to you what you say he did... then who gives a shit? He's an asshole. And I'm not even a supporter of the accords but even I think that the Rogues could have handled it in a better way...

No seriously, there's way more enhanced folks in this country than just the Avengers, some of them are minors, there's a dude in Hells Kitchen who is gonna sue the government and the UN so that the registration thing is scrapped, Charles Xavier and his team are even collaborating on the lawsuit.

Those people could have really used Captain America with them on this but he was too busy playing Rambo and violating other countries' sovereignty and beating the living shit out of Iron Man apparently.

I mean for a genius, you're a dumbass because you let the people who once tried to nuke Manhattan convince you that you're more dangerous than they are but you had 'dead-kid-in-Sokovia' guilt. So I get it but c'mon cut yourself some slack."

Tony was a bit flabbergasted by the kid's performance.

"Of course you'd say it... you stick my pictures on your wall," Tony grumbled

"Oh hell no! You will not use my stan status against me. I know exactly how problematic my fav is. I know your family made their fortune selling weapons and not just to the US Military and I know you only gave a crap about the under the table dealing with terrorists when they threatened your life but I'm sorry Mr. Stark if you deny yourself the credit for learning from your mistakes then every human everywhere is going straight to hell.

Intellicrops prevented famines... the arc reactor technology is saving the planet from global warming...

I saw that video of Helena Cho with those acid attack victims in India and openly weeped in a Starbucks...

You really did privatize world peace... there's a reason the biggest threat to us now is "evil aliens" you know... cause' what the fuck chance does ISIS have against War Machine? Even that Mandarin thing turned out to be a hoax.

I have 3 patents because of my Maria Stark Foundation grant and I didn't even get the MIT-full funding ones... one day one of those kids is going to cure cancer and it's going to be because of you.

So of course I'll defend you man... but you don't seem to realize that any decent person would." Peter was pretty pleased with himself after that and shot Tony an eyebrow raise as if daring him to disagree.

"I got nothing."

"Of course you don't." Peter grinned.

Maybe Tony had just isolated himself too much from people who didn't consider him a complete and utter asshole.

But with Peter it didn't even feel like praise... it was like the guy was scolding him for being too mean to himself.

It felt nice nonetheless.

Before Tony had even recovered from Peter's glorious rant, the younger guy handed him a business card with the words "Daily Bugle" embossed on it.

"Don't hold my gossip rag workplace against me... it's easy money and I'm only doing it till Norman Osbourne starts paying me for the work I already do for him." Peter shrugged

"You're with Oscorp? What do you do? Why not SI?" If he had scored an internship with Oscorp and a grant from his own foundation then he must be good enough for SI.

"I'm R&D chemical engineering and I'm not at SI because your recruiters are assholes who demand 3 years experience for a beginner position..." said Peter matter of factly.

"You should apply with us again." Tony insisted, the guy had 3 patents and very sharp, after tonight the least Tony could do was get him a job.

"You should call me." Peter countered

"I- wait are you hitting on me?" And much to Tony's chagrin, he found himself blushing again.

"Yeah duh Mr. Stark."

"I'm old enough to be your father." Tony sputtered and that hurt to admit.

"And I have insane daddy issues- you'll love me. I'm not even gonna ask you for a selfie... you don't look your best right now but definitely call me." Peter winked as he started to leave.

"You're fucking negging me?!" said Tony looking up at the ballsy kid as he slid out of the booth.

"Hey you miss 100% of the shots you don't take. Gandhi said that." The kid called over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Gandhi absolutely did not say that Peter." Tony yelled back.

God he was gonna call the guy.

Read part 2 here, part 3 here

#starker #starker fic #tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #Peter Parker #precious Tony #badass Peter #spideriron #iron spider #i scold because i stan #starker au #aged up peter parker

349 notes · View notes