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linksthoughtbrambles · 4 months ago

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The Unexpected Benefits of Late Weather Warnings

A gift for @pastelsandpining for Midna's Merry Mixup! (Zelink, modern AU, Rated T, 13K words, also here on ao3. What might have been the worst public transportation experience of Zelda's life became the best bus ride ever). Note: Read "eyeSlate" as cool Sheikah eye followed by the word Slate, please!

Zelda grimaced at the message blinking between red triangles on her eyeSlate.

⚠ Warning! ⚠

⚠ Hazardous weather conditions! ⚠

“Hazardous, indeed,” she muttered to herself, swiping a few snowflakes from the screen, shutting it off, and stowing the slate in her coat pocket. She winced—she’d done it again. She’d resolved not to talk to herself so much. Her students had noticed her talking to the rubidium atoms cooling in the magneto-optical trap, and while she appreciated them having a little fear of her, she preferred it to be for the right reasons, and not because they believed her on the verge of madness.

She wasn’t mad. She simply wished her experiments to proceed as planned.

In fact, she generally preferred things to proceed as planned whether they were experiments or not, and tonight, her plan was to be social (which she’d also resolved to do, partially to assist with her other resolution—after all, if she spoke to other people more, perhaps she’d speak to herself—and rubidium atoms—a little less). She’d therefore agreed to attend Purah’s solstice celebration tonight, and she had no intention of reconsidering over the most recent in a long string of weather warnings regarding unremarkable winter weather.

The temperature is significantly below freezing? ⚠ Warning! ⚠

A few inches of snow? ⚠ Warning! ⚠

The occasional puddle-turned-ice on the ground? ⚠ Warning!!! ⚠

A flea sneezed, creating a slight, chilly breeze? ⚠ AJFDSA;JFDA SHUT DOWN EVERYTHING!!!! ⚠

“They’ll be locking us all indoors next, until the equinox arrives,” she muttered as the market’s doors slid open to admit her. Then she cringed. “I’ve done it again- ah!”

A scruffy-white-bearded shopper on his way out gave her a look which certainly qualified as wary, and Zelda attempted to dismantle her unreasonably annoyed pose and expression before anyone else decided she was mad.

And yes, she was being a bit unreasonable. The slate had warned her to stay home occasionally rather than struggle through snow to her lab on off-days. But she’d left work already, already traveled over half an hour to this particular market which stocked alcohol and had an excellent bakery, and it wasn’t as though she would remain here all night in fear of the possibility of snow.

Her heart sank again when she recalled she’d miss seeing the handsome new man on the bus. She reached for a box full of gorgeous-looking mixed butter cookies, thinking if she truly meant to speak to people more, she should finally take the plunge. She’d been trying not to stare at him for months. She ought to do him the courtesy of asking his name, especially since he almost certainly had caught her looking several times.

It took her a while to decide what to buy, especially regarding the alcohol. Daruk did not seem like a wine-drinker to her, nor did Robbie, but she rather thought wine was more usual to bring to these things than hard alcohol. After far too long considering whether her perceptions were based in fact or bias, she chose not only a bottle of dry red wine, but one of mead and yet another of peated whiskey. She rushed to scoop up cheese and crackers, choosing not to fluster herself by checking the time. She’d simply hurry to the bus stop.

She left the shop more heavily laden than intended but confident she wouldn’t disgrace herself that evening. A burst of freezing wind whipped her hair into her face along with quite a few snowflakes. A shocking amount of snow had fallen while she’d shopped. She hadn’t been in there that long, had she? She picked up her pace despite the slippery sidewalk.

The walk to the bus stop took longer than usual, the wind jostling her in long gusts while she kept her face turned as far into her scarf as she could, the snowfall thickening the entire way there. A line of people stood beneath the stop’s little shelter already, shifting between their feet, shivering, and craning their necks in search of the next bus. Zelda slid in, just barely beneath the little roof. The nearest person stepped aside to give her more space.

“Th- thank you,” she said into her scarf with a little shiver.

“No problem.”

Less snow fell directly on her head that way, but the next gust sent a lot of it into her face, wrinkling her nose and squeezing her eyes shut automatically. The flakes on her eyelashes created fascinating little cold zones on her eyelids.

A soft laugh came from beside her. She liked its sound immediately, despite it being at her expense. “Here- we can switch places,” the person said.

“I- am quite alright,” she said, which was true. Cold eyelids were very little to complain about. “Besides, you’ve been waiting longer.”

“It wasn’t this bad when I walked here, though. There’s less snow on me.”

“It worsened quickly.”

“Yeah, it did.”

Zelda transferred all her grocery bags to one hand to brush the snow off herself. The bottles clinked and she grimaced at her already-moistening knit gloves. The wind continued to barrage them with snow as they waited, and a few people on the other side of the shelter began muttering.

“So how long have you been here?”

“At least a half hour.”

“Ghg. Real behind.”

“Just hope it’s not all full up.”

That was an unpleasant thought.

As Zelda’s mood soured, she sunk deeper and deeper into her scarf and coat, pleased no one had tried to make small talk. She despised small talk. It always ended, somehow or other, with her having confused the other person, and she’d simply given up at this point.

The bus arrived much later than it should have, crawling up the street and nearly invisible until fifty feet from them. The driver applied the brakes early and the bus made a slow skid to a stop, ending at a jaunty angle further past the shelter than usual. Warm light fell on the growing snowdrifts as the bus doors slid open, and they queued up single file to get on, Zelda last.

That is, she was last until the stranger who’d made room for her did so again. He stepped aside, his hand outstretched, allowing her to go first. She blinked, surprised and a little confused at the unnecessary gesture, her eyes following that hand (which also held several bags) up the arm of a rugged coat, and to the face of the man she’d been silently ogling since early autumn.

He had a friendly, lopsided smile, with a dimple and crinkled eyes (shockingly blue). With his nose and cheeks cold-reddened and his bangs sticking haphazardly out from under his hat and hood, he struck her not only as handsome (as usual), but absolutely adorable.

She stared at him as the line shortened.

He made that soft laugh again, and her heart surprised her with a single beat against the wall of her chest. “It’s okay—go ahead.”

Her feet shuffled, and she found herself hurrying past him, grateful the cold had also reddened her features. “Thank you,” she said again, muffled.

She took the steps as quickly as she could, registering that while not entirely full, the bus had very few seats left. She moved nearly to the first row of front-facing double-seats before she realized the gift-bag-laden woman ahead of her was about to take the last one remaining toward the back of the bus. The only empty seats would be behind Zelda.

Only two seats, in fact—the ones right next to the door in the row facing the driver’s side.

Zelda turned to find the handsome man staring at them, his face difficult to read. Then he looked at her.

“You can sit,” he said.

Air puffed out her nose above her damp scarf. She tugged it down. “So can you.”

At that moment, the driver spun the wheel and Zelda lurched to the right with an odd, gulping gasp. For an instant, she thought she’d end up in the lap of the man in the third seat, but handsome-man’s hand shot out and caught her upper arm, their grocery bags clanging into the metal pole beside her and swinging to nearly hit the seated man’s face, too.

The support gave her a precious second to grab the pole, find her feet again, and register that the man she’d almost squished was the scruffy-bearded man from the shop.

“Sorry!” said handsome-man to scruffy-man.

“Sorry!” said Zelda to scruffy-man.

“Sorry,” said handsome-man to her.

She stared at handsome-man, and he stared at her.

Scruffy-man stared spook-faced at both of them.

Handsome-man glanced at his own hand on her arm, suddenly spook-faced himself. “Sorry!” he repeated, releasing her like he’d palmed a hot iron.

“N-no need,” she said, her gloved hand slipping around the pole as the bus swayed. “I’d have fallen.” A tiny, nervous laugh left her. “Thank you.”

“Uh- yeah, of course. Maybe-“ he eyed the seats. “Maybe you’d better-?”

“Y- yes. Indeed.” Zelda plunked into the seat, her face extremely hot, with another apology to the man she’d nearly smooshed. (He grunted). She pulled her bags between and behind her legs, hoping not to trip anyone in addition to the scene she’d caused.

Handsome-man hesitated, still standing, one hand securing himself to the pole beside the steps.

Zelda struggled both to look at him and not to look at him. Her eyes took a meandering zig-zag of a path from her knees to his knees to the pole to a button on his coat, back to the pole, and finally to his collar, from which she sheepishly lifted her eyes to his, her face turning yet another shade of scarlet.

“You- can sit,” she said.

A little huff came from scruffy-man’s direction.

Handsome-man hesitated one more moment, then slid into the seat beside her, tucking his bags back just as she had.

Zelda’d curled her index fingers and thumbs together, considering her wet gloves in lieu of the man beside her, feeling both fortunate and unfortunate that she couldn’t feel the warmth of him through their insulative clothing, and that he had, in fact, managed to sit without touching her at all. She didn’t need to feel the surprising and unusual things he did to her insides while sitting with mere centimeters between them. She tugged the gloves off and sat them on her woolen lap. He pushed his hood back with a small sigh.

The bus seemed barely able to do better than a brisk walking speed, but at least it was warm and dry. (Well—relatively dry. Her snowy coat was making a mess of the seat already). She looked out the windshield (driver’s side, so handsome-man wouldn’t think her staring at him). The snow swirled first one way, then the next, the windshield wipers flapping madly back and forth, and the driver’s elbow made a sudden jab past the barrier as he made a quick adjustment for an unmistakable slip. Zelda swallowed.

Her eyes flicked to the side of the windshield closer to her and caught a glimpse of handsome-man side-eyeing her.

She snapped her gaze forward.

Then she tried to see him out of the furthest possible corner of her eye.

He appeared to be considering the window directly across from them—all but falling snow utterly invisible beyond it. She considered it too, a tiny voice which was much braver than she felt reminding her she’d meant to ask him his name.

The bus made a stop, a howl of cold wind from the opening door followed by hurried steps as six people boarded, one holding packages above his head and another grumbling in Gerudo, tall enough she’d have to duck under the hand-hold bars. Shuffling at the back of the bus signaled passengers disembarking, and the newcomers all moved that way.

“Pardon me,” a short woman said as one of her canvas bags scraped its way past Zelda’s shin.

“It’s alright,” she said automatically.

Her eyeSlate buzzed.

Zelda tried to fish it from her pocket without poking handsome-man in the leg. She succeeded, though she realized too late she’d leaned a bit into scruffy-man’s space again.

She turned to find him leaning away from her, spooked once more.

“Apologies,” she said.

He just stared at her.

She shook her head at herself and tapped the screen with practiced motions.

Purah had messaged her.

Zelda sniffed, irrationally annoyed at the timestamp. It’s not as though she hadn’t known she’d taken a long time in the shop, or that the bus had taken a long time to arrive, or that it was absolutely crawling.

A laugh puffed from Zelda’s nose. Then handsome-man shifted a little and a tiny gasp left her. She concentrated hard on the screen, refusing to indulge the sudden urge to see if he’d looked at her.

Zelda laughed again. There were few people she could successfully tease. Purah was one of them. If anyone else had thrown a party, she’d have declined the invitation. Zelda lowered the slate to her lap and glanced up at the still-worsening storm out the windshield, suddenly wondering if handsome-man was looking at her again, though for a different reason. She repeated her trick of glancing out the nearer side of the windshield and found him looking out it too.

Her heart sputtered relief and she texted quickly.

Zelda slapped the slate to her chest with an involuntary glance his way, her heart pitter-pattering like rabbit feet along with the slate’s ceaseless buzzing.

Handsome-man had turned her way, his face blank enough that she had no idea if he’d already been looking or if her sudden panic had drawn his attention.

She felt a shift on her other side, too, and turned to see scruffy-man looking much more obviously confused.

She tried not to shrink in her seat.

“Ad,” she said.

Her eyebrows shot up in shock at her own lie.

At her incredibly foolish lie, for the only material on her slate she should be so ashamed of ought to have been very mortifying indeed, far more so than handsome-man knowing she thought him attractive.

But no. No, instead, she’d implied she was hiding something unsuitable to be seen in public, and considering her slate wouldn’t stop buzzing she doubted anyone would assume she’d simply opened a personal document by mistake.

No. No, they’d think porn. Wouldn’t they?

Of course they would. NSFW. Porn with rumble effects.

Then she did shrink in her seat.

She wildly considered shoving her still-buzzing slate into handsome-man’s line of vision. Shame and relief would mingle for certain, but It would be an improvement over the pure humiliation within her now.

It stopped about thirty seconds later.

Zelda couldn’t help it. As though dragged by some invisible force, her head turned with extreme slowness toward that handsome man beside her.

He was still looking at her, now with a very small smile on his face.

Zelda tried not to appear quizzical.

His smile grew a little. She had the impression he was trying not to laugh.

He flashed his eyebrows at her and she lost it. Silent laughter shook her chest, her face twisting into something between a smile, a pout, and a grimace, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Must’ve been some ad,” he said.

She groaned, placed her slate face-down in her lap, and rested her face in her hands.

She heard that soft laughter beside her again. “My name’s Link,” he said.

She took slow, calming breaths as she lifted her head to see his smile deepened, his eyes twinkling at her.

She tried not to let it take her breath away. Yes, he was handsome, and she loved his voice, but she hadn’t exactly made a spectacular impression. She took an intentionally deep breath instead. “I’m Zelda.”

He held out his hand, still gloved, to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Zelda.”

She smiled quite a bit more than she should have and flushed even more. “Nice to meet you too, Link.” A jolt of electricity ran through her when their hands met despite his glove, but she thought she hid it reasonably well.

“I, ah,” he said as his hand returned to his lap, “was surprised to see you at the stop.”

She blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m late tonight. Went shopping so I wouldn’t have to tomorrow.”

It slowly penetrated that he, too, had been aware they usually rode the same bus. “I- also. The same. Apologies, no, not the same,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes squeezed shut. What was wrong with her? “Shopping, yes, but for a friend’s party tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow and eyed the storm outside.

“Heh. Yes, well… I don’t believe this was expected.” Her brow pinched and she fiddled with her eyeSlate. “Did you see the warning?”

He shook his head. “No, my slate’s off. Battery.”

She turned hers on and swiped Purah’s barrage of messages away, her eyes widening. She’d caught “date” and “hanky-panky” before it left the screen, hoping he hadn’t, as he was quite clearly and correctly expecting her to show him what she meant. She navigated to her notifications and tapped the warning.

⚠ Warning! ⚠

⚠ Hazardous weather conditions! ⚠

A winter storm alert is in effect in central Hyrule, Lake Hylia County, Northwest Faron, West Necluda, and Southwestern Eldin until 2:45 pm HST. 32” total accumulation expected. Wind gusts up to 70 mph.

Zelda stared at it, swallowing, part of her wishing she’d read the warning earlier—the other part quite logically pointing out it would’ve made no difference unless she’d begged to sleep at the market. Had she made her way back to the bus stop immediately, she’d probably have been waiting, empty-handed, under the little shelter that entire time regardless.

She huffed a little.

Then she scowled.

It would be the one evening she had social plans that central and southern Hyrule would be inundated with snow rather than Hebra. 32”—she hadn’t seen that much snow at once in this region since she was very little.

“I was really, really not expecting that,” Link said, frowning at the warning.

“You… don’t live too far past the highway, do you?” she asked.

“Just two stops past you.”

“Ah. Not so bad then.”

“No, but-“ he craned his neck, straightening his back to peer out the windshield. Then he sat back, shaking his head. “I don’t want my food to get nasty.”

She took a closer look at his grocery bags. They appeared to be the same as hers. “Are you also partial to LonLon’s?”

“You bet I am. Only place near my route that has grass-fed butter and beef.”

“Is that what you have?”

“Not beef today, but the butter, yeah.”

“At least that will keep.”

“Raw pigeon won’t,” he said with a wide-eyed grin.

“Oh.” She blinked at his bags. “Oh dear.”

“Yeaaaah.”

The bus crawled to another slow stop. Zelda frowned, trying to see as the doors opened, snow bursting onto their heads and shoulders. “Did we… only just reach the next stop?”

Link craned his neck, though he avoided directly blocking anyone entering or exiting. “We might’ve passed… one without stopping? The snow’s so thick.”

“Malon street,” the driver said with a sniff.

“Oh,” Zelda said, trying not to sound too dismayed. They had, in fact, not passed one without stopping.

She and Link looked at each other.

“Your pigeon is most certainly in peril,” she said.

He snorted. “I may have to shop tomorrow after all.”

“With nearly three feet of snow on the ground?”

“It’s fine, I’ll walk to the mediocre store near my apartment.”

“If it’s open,” Zelda said.

He grimaced. “Ooh.”

“Indeed.”

“What about your party?” Link asked.

“Oh,” Zelda shrugged. “I don’t believe it matters much. Purah is always up late regardless, and with her house full of scientists and engineers, she’s likely not to sleep at all until morning.”

“Wow, some party!” Link said, his eyebrows disappearing under the bangs sticking out from under his hat. “Are you all working together on something?”

“I suppose she and her colleagues are in general, but no—the conversation is just likely to be ceaseless.”

He studied her, his brow pinching for a moment. “You don’t sound that excited about it.”

“Oh, I’m not much for parties, but I’d resolved to make an attempt at socialization.”

His smile brightened. “Does this count?”

“Heh,” she laughed. “Indeed it does. And what of you?”

“Eh, I socialize all the time.”

Her smile remained, but she didn’t know how to respond to that.

He seemed to sense it. “I teach,” he said. Then he looked up and to the right. “Basically. Sort of. Yeah.”

Her face brightened, then fell, then became quizzical. “Oh?”

“I work at the rock climbing place.”

She cocked her head.

“On-The-Wall.”

Her head cocked further.

“It’s on Chickaloo Street.”

“Ah,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I haven’t explored that direction. Do you enjoy it?”

“I love it,” he said. “First off, I get to climb. No complaints there. Second, I like teaching the classes, and third, there are birthday parties!” He smiled excitedly. “With crazy kids being crazy.”

One of her eyebrows became even more quizzical. “Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah, it’s awesome. Little wackadoodle banana-monkeys. You never know what they’ll do.”

As he smiled at her, Zelda registered two things.

First, he, unlike her, was not at all opposed to parties—and second, he, unlike her, had no aversion to unpredictability.

Then a third thing registered as she processed the first two: that his smile faltered a little with her silence.

She grasped for some response other than the turn her thoughts had taken. “I- ah… I also teach, but my environment, I suspect, is more predictable than yours. I can’t imagine I would have much success corralling a herd of children in my lab.”

His face brightened again. “Lab?”

“I work at U of H Central.”

“Oh, you’re a professor! What do you teach?”

It was her turn for her smile to falter. “Ah- um. Physics.”

His eyes flew wide. “…Physics?”

She nodded.

She waited for it.

This, typically, would be the point at which things went badly. A significant portion of the population presumed her to be from some alien planet after this pronouncement.

She tried not to show her prehensive disappointment as he continued to stare at her.

“Wait, wait wait,” he said, his smile growing skeptical, “how can you manage not to socialize?”

Zelda’s jaw dropped.

He… wasn’t surprised?

He didn’t think she ought to be an elderly man with hair sticking out at odd angles?

He didn’t immediately break off the conversation?

“That’s- that is-“ she stuttered, struggling to return her train of thought to his question. “It’s different. I’m- I’m at work. There, I must socialize.”

“Ohhh,” he said. “I get you. Yeah, I know the feeling. After work, I’m pretty shot for dealing with people. Need to recover. Especially if people were grouchy.”

She blinked at him. “You seem perfectly amiable to me.”

He squinted an eye.

“What?”

He squinted more. “That means friendly.”

“Well-“ she sat up straighter. “Yes. Yes it does.”

He squinted both eyes suspiciously. “I only know because I watched Affection and Affectation twice.”

“Twice?!”

“It was good!”

“Well- yes, it was. I enjoyed the play on words.”

“Me too, that’s why I watched it in the first place.” He smiled wider. “So. You watch stuff.”

She huffed a laugh. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I don’t know, if you’re a professor maybe you need to be reading a lot of—I don’t know. Physicsy things.”

“I do that, too.”

“You have time for both?”

“I also read non-physicsy things.”

“No way.”

And now, apparently, it was her turn to eye him suspiciously. Was he teasing her?

He shifted in his seat—only a little, but it was to face her more fully, his eyes on hers waiting, apparently rapt, for her reaction.

Her heart skipped a beat.

What sort of smile was that on his face?

And what was the feeling tugging so insistently at the corners of her mouth?

A blast of cold, snowy air from the opening doors burst the moment, squeezing both their eyes shut in defense against the icy incursion.

Zelda hadn’t realized she’d gripped the pole beside her.

When she opened her eyes, she found Link watching the bridge of her wrinkled nose out of one very squinty eye, the other suddenly bearing quite a few snowflakes.

She giggled. She couldn’t help it.

Link grumbled and took the back of his wrist to his snowy eye.

The bus slipped the instant it pulled out into the street, drawing their attention back to the windows (to no avail). Zelda took the opportunity to text Purah, ostensibly so she wouldn’t worry, but in reality to scroll up her previous stream of embarrassing messages.

She waited with the keypad up, trying to think of something else to say to scroll those messages even further. Then an enormous gif of a korok, its arms raised, with flames ever-burning in the background appeared and did that job for her. She stared at it for a moment.

Zelda sighed. Societal expectations were not her strong suit, but she had the sense that inviting a person she’d just met to another person’s party would cross one of those invisible etiquette lines so difficult to detect, even if said person enjoyed parties.

The bus made a few more slow stops and a turn which meant they’d finally reached the service road beside the highway. She rather thought she should say something else to Link—perhaps it would even be reasonable to ask for his slate number, considering they got along well so far—but would she seem desperate? Forward? Irritating? Perhaps it was best to wait. As she did, her mind turned on whether the driver would take the usual route. The plows usually tended the highways diligently, but a prickle of anxiety reminded her even the warning of this storm she’d ignored had arrived late. Some unexpected weather pattern must have occurred.

“Kids are going to be disappointed,” Link said, out of the blue and seemingly to the snow outside.

Zelda blinked. “Why? Tomorrow wouldn’t have been a school day, regardless.”

“Exactly.”

It took her a moment. Then she smirked. “A wasted snow day?”

“Yep.”

The bus lurched toward the left side of the street, jostling them and answering Zelda’s earlier question as it crossed lanes of traffic to approach the highway’s on-ramp. She swallowed as it began to climb the incline up to highway level, at first at an accelerated pace. She hoped that meant the plows and salt trucks had indeed been effective, but as the seconds passed she realized they were slowing—then the bus’ front began twisting to the right. Zelda tamped a gasp and clamped her hand on the pole beside her. Link grabbed the one on his other side.

The driver spun the wheel frenetically, his elbow popping in and out from behind the barrier, and she thought she heard him curse under his breath. Her grip turned white-knuckled as the bus turned more and more sideways. A sudden vision intruded on her thoughts of it going completely perpendicular to the ramp, still sliding, then rolling down the hill faster and faster. Her heart lurched into her throat as the speed of the slide seemed to accelerate.

Apparently, Zelda was not alone in this line of thinking, as a current of airy, tense sounds ran through the passengers, and something changed in the way Link was sitting. His back straightened, and he spent a long moment watching the driver like a hawk, his expression intense. Then he looked at Zelda and silently offered his other hand, palm up.

She gripped it like a lifeline.

The bus lurched left to a collective gasp from the passengers as the driver won his battle with the wheels. The bus began to right itself, and breath returned to Zelda, her grip loosening. It tightened again when the bus began to list left instead. She took an audible, involuntary gulp of air—it seemed to stay stuck in her throat along with her heart. Link kept switching between looking at her and the driver.

“Are you alright?” he asked under his breath, his eyes intense on her.

She nodded swiftly.

He looked like he wanted to say something else. His gloved fingers flexed around hers, and it seemed for a moment he was going to change positions.

It seemed to take an absolute age, a purgatory of possible death-by-bus-roll as the bus drifted over and over again to the side, Zelda in two agonies at once: one of pure fear, and another of elation at the feel of Link’s hand holding hers so tightly. When the bus finally fishtailed its way to the top of the ramp and began its slow, rolling merge onto the blissfully flat highway, Zelda tried and failed to release her death-grip on Link.

Someone in the back whooped, someone else whistled, and a chorus of cheers and applause filled the space.

“You deserve a medal, man,” Link said.

Zelda privately agreed, but seemed incapable of speech (or regulating her heart rate).

The driver gave an exaggerated wave. It seemed to say all in a day’s work, but his eyes were quite wide, and his face a little too flat to be genuinely calm.

“Some ride,” Link said quietly.

Zelda managed to let him go. Her hand came away stiff and tingling as she found her voice. “I- hope I didn’t crush you too badly,” she said, wiggling her fingers.

“No, did- did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes widening.

“Not at all- I believe I hurt myself.”

He laughed a little. “It was pretty scary.”

“Yes.” She returned her hand to her lap. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he said, his voice soft.

The highway was hardly any faster than the roads had been. A few times, the brakes issued long, slow, squeals followed by grinds as the wheels shuddered their way through building snow on their way to a stop, despite how slow just about everyone was going anyway. Every once in a while, a car blew past them somewhere far to the left, evidenced only by its lights and the sound of it. Some of the other passengers tutted.

“Wish I was a Rito,” muttered the scruffy-bearded man to the ceiling.

Zelda privately disagreed, as Rito had just as much difficulty flying in such weather as others had in traversing it on the ground.

The bus started and stopped so many times it all began to blend together. Zelda turned her slate in her lap, thinking again she should ask Link for his number, but still feeling too shy to do so. Her eyelids grew a little heavy with the monotony. Link seemed intent on the driver. He didn’t seem tense, exactly, but watchful. Her slate buzzed in her lap, and she jumped. She unlocked it sheepishly.

Zelda nodded to herself and opened the map, zooming in to the general Romani area. The display remained heavily pixelated. She swiped toward Applea instead without better luck—then she zoomed out, attempting to let the map simply load for a few minutes. She watched the progress bar remain utterly still as her patience waned.

Zelda sighed. The infrastructure did need updating, and the weather couldn’t be helping. She wondered how many other people within a hundred feet of her were attempting to load GPS information at the same time. A good old-fashioned look out the window told her absolutely nothing.

She blinked.

Absolutely nothing is exactly what had happened since before Purah had texted her. The bus hadn’t moved at all.

Zelda shifted in her seat, then glanced around at her fellow passengers. Some, predictably, were facing their laps, likely deep in some mobile game or another. A few were leaning back in their seats or against the walls, napping or attempting to. The Gerudo woman had the most bored look Zelda had ever seen on anyone’s face, and that included students trapped listening to the 90-year-old igneous rock expert in her building drone on about the injustices of his tax bill. Scruffy-man sported an impressive resting grump-face. Link was the only other passenger who seemed fully alert.

He seemed to sense her watching him. He turned and gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was.

She squeezed the slate in her hands. Then she held up a finger for his attention and opened her notes app. She typed in very large letters: Are we stuck? She turned the screen toward him.

He chewed his lips, pulling them into his mouth, then found her eyes. He flashed an eyebrow and half-shrugged.

She checked her slate again. The map still hadn’t loaded. She shook her head and closed the app.

Zelda’s stomach gave its first pitiful squeak of hunger. She willed it silent, then turned her slate off. Better to conserve battery, just in case.

The driver made a quiet call into DoT-H.

“This is Botrick, bus C-H-O-C 11. I’m Crenel-bound on the Romani Highway past exit 16. No movement. Please advise.”

She could feel Link straining, just as she was, to hear the answer.

Two bursts of voice-toned static arrived, way louder than the driver (he grimaced). Zelda couldn’t tell if the sounds meant anything to him. Scruffy-man also leaned forward in his seat, and the woman across from him tried to peer around the driver’s barrier.

A string of sounds issued from the speaker at the driver’s station. They were almost unintelligible, but Zelda could pick some of it out.

“No eyes” on the situation yet. “Continue route.”

Zelda tried not to make too grouchy of a face.

Link was chuckling. At her questioning look, he shook his head. “Just- what does he do if they say ‘abort route’?”

She snorted. “Abandon ship!”

“Abandon bus.”

“All hands to the lifeboats.”

“We’d need sleds.”

“And dogs to pull them.”

“Oooh, reindeer!”

“Truly, someone providing sleigh rides through Mabe Prairie Park tonight would make a killing,” she said, turning to look out the window behind her, then feeling rather silly, as there was still nothing but snowflakes and indistinct headlights to see. “They’d pass us right by.”

“I feel like I’m missing an entrepreneurship opportunity,” he said, that sideways smile of his back full-force. “Wonder if I can just walk right off the highway and start my own business.”

“You’ve no reindeer,” she pointed out.

“There’s horses at the park. And cows.”

“Hmm, less festive.”

“Still faster, though.”

“Are the cows much faster?”

“Eh…” he thought about it for a moment. “I- am not sure I’ve ever seen how fast a cow can run.”

Zelda swept one of her hands high through the air. “Link’s Cow Rides.”

“That has absolutely no ring to it whatsoever,” he said, suddenly choking on a laugh.

“Indeed, and unfortunately it doesn’t clarify the sleigh aspect of the experience.”

“I can hear the ad already, though. ‘Dashing through the snoooow in a one-cow open sleiiiigh.’”

Her muscles punched a laugh from her stomach. “Dashing may be unlikely, but laughing all the way is a strong possibility.”

“Or getting really bored. If the cows just stand around munching grass the whole time.”

“In the snow?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah! Yeah, definitely laughing.”

“Excellent. You do appear to have your opportunity, as the bus hasn’t moved an inch.”

“I’m still missing something, though. No sleigh.”

“Ahh, yes. Well. Perhaps one of those plastic children’s sleds.”

“The sad thing is that would still be faster than this,” he said. Then he winced a little and looked at the driver. “Uh- not blaming you.”

“Glad to hear it,” the man apparently named Botrick replied, slouching over the wheel.

In the pause as Link recovered, the bus seemed even quieter than before, the only sound the stream of air from the heating system—battery-powered. There wasn’t even the rumble of an engine.

In that environment, grumbling stomachs easily stood out.

It wasn’t Zelda this time. It was Link.

She looked at him.

He was still wincing.

Zelda’s stomach squealed as though in agreement.

His torso lurched with a silent laugh.

Zelda could swear she heard other stomachs complaining, too. “Do we give in and eat on the bus?” she whispered.

“Not the pigeon,” he said.

She huffed. “Definitely not. We’ve no restroom in which to deal with the consequences.”

His eyes widened.

Her smirk began to fade with the extremely unpleasant thought of having to relieve oneself in the middle of the highway.

Surely it wouldn’t come to that.

“Perhaps we wait,” she said.

Link nodded vigorously.

The stillness dragged on.

At one point, the bus began to roll again to a collective, hopeful breath drawn by the entire bus.

It stopped mere inches later.

The collective groan was the loudest sound they’d heard in half an hour.

“What a tease,” the Gerudo woman said.

With no movement and no information forthcoming over the radio, Link seemed to become restless. He stretched his legs straight out in front of him. He leaned far back in his seat and looked up. He wiggled his nose repeatedly. He flexed all his fingers and cracked all his knuckles, then his neck (the woman across from them scowled at him). He sat back up and shimmied in his seat, still somehow avoiding jostling Zelda, then began tapping his fingers to some complex, inaudible drumbeat on his knees. Then he did the unfathomable. He raised his eyes to the strip of ads lining the bus above the hand-hold poles.

He had broken some invisible barrier by doing so—Zelda’s eyes followed his.

A classic tan-orange-brown Death Mountain color scheme backed a Goron cheerfully smiling with a knife in his hand, a grinding stone beside him, and a speech-bubble above his head: Gorrrrrrrron Grrrrrrinding! Bring us your knives! We’ll bring you to heaven.

Zelda’s head listed to the side for a long moment. Then she turned to Link.

He looked horrified.

He shook his head and ran a hand down his face with a sigh. Then he gripped the pole, stood, and stepped sideways to the top of the stairs. “Let me out? I can walk around, take a look at what’s going on.”

Botrick did a double-take. “What what?”

Link jerked his thumb behind him, pointing at the doors.

“We’re on the highway,” Botrick said.

“We haven’t moved in at least an hour.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

“I’ll stick my head out. If nothing’s moving, I’ll get out.”

“Jerks’ve been blowing by on the left!”

“They’re way on the shoulder. I’ll be here, next to the bus.”

“And they could hit something, and things could slide, and you could get squished.”

Link squinted at him. “Okay, I could get on top of the bus instead.”

The look on Botrick’s face was utterly flabbergasted. “What?”

“I’ll stand on the bus, get a good view.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Nah, just a good climber.”

“I don’t need you falling off my bus!”

“I won’t. Well-” Link tilted his head back and forth, looking up- “probably not. It’s slippery.”

Botrick just stared at him.

Link shrugged and put one foot on the lower step. “At least I can tell you how deep the snow got while we sat here.”

“Oh. Ohhh,” Botrick said, taking his rectangular glasses off and feverishly cleaning them on the hem of his shirt, pulled from under his coat. When he returned them to his face, he said, “Fine,” and opened the doors.

“BUT,” he said, as Link stuck his head out, “If you get killed it’s your own damn fault.”

Zelda did think the driver was overreacting a bit, and possibly thinking more about regulations and liability than practicality, but a flutter of nerves struck her as Link disappeared out the door. Botrick closed it.

A surprised “oh?” left Zelda’s mouth.

“To keep the heat in,” Botrick said.

The shadow of Link’s hood appeared in the window behind her along with a squeaky scrabbling sound. Scruffy-man shot forward in his seat as Link’s fingers tried to find purchase, with a brief pause after which they returned to do so gloveless. Zelda watched, astonished, as he leapt straight up, grabbed something, and pulled himself out of sight.

His footsteps on the roof seemed to wake everyone up.

“Is he really up there?” the Gerudo woman wondered (she sounded impressed).

Scruffy-man grunted.

Every set of eyes on the bus followed the sound of his feet walking the length of the bus, pausing, and walking back. He slipped at one point, and everyone gasped.

Botrick made a strangled sound of stress and cleaned his glasses again.

Link dropped down with a muffled thump at the bus doors and knocked. He came up the steps covered in snow, trying to brush it all back out the door and sniffling. “It’s more than a foot built up around us,” he said. “Maybe a foot and a half. Cars forever, just every direction. A few trucks and a flatbed. Nothing’s moving at all, as far as I can see.”

He looked at Zelda.

He didn’t say it, but the shuffling said everyone knew—they’d be stuck here a long time. She almost joked that his idea of walking off the highway was, in fact, the quickest way to get home, but it was also the surest way to get hit by a car on the shoulder, or to succumb to hypothermia. They would have to walk all the way to an exit ramp.

She shook her head. Abandon bus, indeed.

Movement at the edge of her vision drew her eyes to see Botrick turn a knob. The air flow from the heating system lessened to almost nothing, its temperature also lower. He was conserving battery, too.

Surely they wouldn’t run out? These buses had to run long days and nights without charging.

Then again, it was cold, and they were still. Lower efficiency.

“Do you mind if I-?” Link gestured to his still-snowy coat.

“No, no, of course not,” Botrick said.

Link nodded gratefully and draped the coat over the banister before returning to his seat, not looking defeated, exactly, but concerned.

Zelda sighed. She rummaged around in her bags, removed the enormous box of butter cookies she’d bought, and began untying the twine keeping it closed.

Link slumped in his seat a little, side-eyeing the box.

Zelda couldn’t help but smile at his poor attempt at feigning indifference.

He really was quite cute.

She lifted the lid and presented them to him—cookies of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, some sandwich-style filled with jam, some chocolate-dipped and coated in sprinkles, others with dollops of jam or chocolate in their centers.

He stared at them, his face oddly blank like when she’d hidden her buzzing slate.

“Go on,” she said. “Have one.”

A tiny hopeful smile quirked one corner of his mouth. He uncrossed his arms, leaned forward, and carefully selected an apricot sandwich-cookie almost the size of a Hylian’s palm, half-chocolate-dipped with rainbow sprinkles.

Zelda then turned and offered the box to scruffy-man.

He looked shocked.

“It’s alright,” she said, holding the box a little higher.

He still hesitated.

Compelling reasons to accept her cookie offering swirled through her head. There were so many (and she couldn’t think of many reasons not to have one, unless he suffered from allergies, and suddenly she thought that might be it). “They were made in a peanut and tree-nut free facility,” she said. “Though I don’t believe I can guarantee they’re free of other allergens. They’re also delicious.“ He still hesitated. “It’s not as though I’d planned to eat them all myself. Besides, better the cookies than each other.”

Link choked on his cookie, and scruffy-man once again began a slow lean away from her.

“A little early to resort to cannibalism,” said the Gerudo woman.

“W- well.” Zelda shrugged, face scarlet and eyes suddenly sealed shut. “Yes. Exactly. Thus the cookies.”

Link was wheezing. She turned to see him in the throes of laughter, cookie crumbs cupped in one hand while he failed to chew. “Y- you-“ he wheezed more- “have to appreciate the honesty, though.”

“You’d better eat one, my dear,” the Gerudo woman said with a pointed look at Zelda. “Otherwise we’ll all think you’re fattening us up.”

Zelda retrieved a cookie immediately (lemon-zest in the batter with raspberry filling) and offered the entire box to scruffy-man’s lap. After a long moment, he finally accepted it, took a random cookie without ever taking his eyes off Zelda, and passed the box to his left. Zelda ate her cookie slowly in mixed mortification and relief that at least she’d only seriously terrified one person.

As the box moved, the mood and voices on the bus lifted. It turned out the man who’d held packages above his head had taken leftover pizza, garlic bread, and fried cheese home from an office party, and someone else had a birthday cake for a gathering he certainly wasn’t making it to. He even had candles.

“My brother’ll live without cake,” he said as he stuck the candles in it. Someone else lit them with a lighter.

They sang solstice tunes instead of “Happy Birthday,” and kept singing while they passed small pieces of cake around on paper plates.

Zelda thought Link might have felt guilty about making the driver nervous. He brought a plate full of cookies and cake up to him personally.

It was then that Zelda realized she’d missed a trick.

She waved a hand at the crowd, but no one noticed (except scruffy-man, who continued to view her with apparent suspicion), so she stood. “Ah- excuse me?” A few people turned her way. “Does anyone have a corkscrew?”

The entire bus perked up at that.

Link cleared his throat and held up a spectacular, hefty multi-tool he’d just retrieved from his drying coat.

“Perfect,” Zelda said, retrieving her bottles. Link popped them open with a flourish and birthday-party-man provided a stack of paper cups.

The bus was soon very merry indeed—all but for Botrick, who stared longingly at Link’s cup (he’d opted for mead).

“We’ll save you some,” Link said. He took another of the very small sips he’d been taking.

Zelda had also chosen mead. “It’s quite good,” she said, though she’d taken only a very small amount, hyper-aware that she hadn’t used a bathroom since she left work.

“This is a nice one. Sometimes they’re weirdly harsh. Mead shouldn’t be harsh.”

“Oh! You’ve had it before?”

“Oh yeah, loads of times. I like to try things.”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah, food’s pretty much my hobby.”

“As in taste-testing?”

“Ohhhh not just that,” he said. “I love to cook. I was going to coat that pigeon in a rosemary, Hyrule herb, and warm safflina-infused oil I made a few weeks back and roast it, make it nice and crispy” He swallowed, his eyes widening, and Zelda had the sudden impression he’d caught himself salivating. “And I was going to braise the apples and red cabbage to go with it. And I was thinking about making some custard tarts with wildberries.”

“Here I was thinking you ate so healthy, until the custard tarts,” Zelda said with a smirk.

“I figure it averages out,” he grinned. “Can’t really share the eggs around, but if people need another round of food the fruit’s in here. There’s milk… too…” He suddenly sat at the edge of his seat, looking wildly around, his eyes landing on the forgotten twine from the cookie box half-under Zelda on her seat. “Can I… can I have that?”

Zelda passed it to him and watched him rummage in a bag which contained only the packaged pigeon and frozen peas. He tied the twine tight around both.

“Does this open?” Link asked, pointing at the front-most window.

“Yeah, only a few inches, but-“

“It’ll just take a second.”

Botrick grunted.

Link opened it, fought the pigeon out the window, and lowered it by the twine. Then he shut the window on it and tied the other end to the pole. “Ha!”

He appeared extremely pleased with himself.

Botrick appeared nonplussed.

Zelda finished her mead, stored her cup in one of her bags, and turned on her slate.

10:23 pm.

As the night wore on, the merry volume dwindled and the snow climbed higher against the sides of the bus. Snores began to issue and sputter as people jerked awake in the seats, shifted and re-settled again. Zelda stood at the front of the bus, peering down the long windows at the snow which cradled them.

“Will we be able to move? Once the car in front of us does?”

“I think so,” Botrick said. “There are a couple shovels under the floor if not.”

Another set of headlights went out.

“It’s fortunate the bus is battery-powered. With this much snow, we’d have had to dig out the exhaust pipe.”

Link sat suddenly forward. “Oh- Hylia.”

Zelda turned to see him scanning the pattern of lights outside the windshield. “What is it?”

“How many of them don’t know they should do that?” he asked. “Or just didn’t think of it. I mean, I know you should but I didn’t think of it until you said something.”

They looked at each other.

“Where are the shovels?” Link asked.

A few minutes later, he and the Gerudo woman left the bus armed with shovels and promises not to try and save the entire highway personally.

After half an hour, Zelda made Botrick open the doors again so she could check on them. She held on to a pole and leaned out into the frigid air—and found, to her relief, they’d enlisted a good deal of help from elsewhere. People were using ice-scrapers. People were talking to each other. Lanes were carved and stamped out between cars in places.

Other people were wading in thigh-deep snow.

She pulled her head in. “Is there an ice-scraper, too? One of the ones with a brush?”

“Yeah,” Botrick said.

“Excellent.”

The bus doors opened, and an extremely snowy Link popped his head in. “Hey, Zelda?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have the bag with the milk and fruit please?”

It only took her a moment of rummaging. She passed it over the end of the seats.

“Thanks.” He hesitated a moment. “Kids.”

The doors closed.

Zelda found herself staring at the place his face had been, part of her lamenting there were no cookies left to give them, and another part unable to unsee his extremely wind-and-cold-burnt face.

“Open the door, please,” she said.

She stuck her head out and found his profile. “Link!” she shouted.

He turned toward her.

“Cheese and crackers!”

He jogged back.

She ducked down and retrieved the last of the food she’d bought. Children were unlikely to want fancy cheese, but they also quite likely had hungry adults with them, and they’d all like the crackers.

She stood with them on the bottom step.

“We should trade places,” she said.

“No way,” Link said. “Your pants are thin, you’ll be soaked in under a minute.”

“You’re already freezing.”

“I know where the kids are,” he said with a bit of a smirk.

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

He had her there.

He gave her an extremely warm smile as he lifted the bag from her fingers. “Thank you,” he said.

“Come back after this,” she said. “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m alright.”

“Stay that way. Come back! And bring- ah-”

He huffed a laugh. “Her name’s Urbosa.”

“Bring Urbosa, too.”

He nodded. “I will.”

When they returned, Zelda was ready, along with leftover-pizza-man (Horace) and gift-bag-woman (Anna).

Armed with the largest ice scraper she’d ever seen, Zelda attacked them with the brush-side. Snow flew off Urbosa down the steps (Link dodged). She worked quickly until all that remained was anything that had already soaked into her clothing, then passed her off to Horace. Then it was Link’s turn.

He made an adorable “mrp” sound when she first swiped the brush down his front. She tried not to laugh. She miscalculated when she tried to get his chest and shoulders and caught the tip of his nose with the bristles.

“Oohf,” he said, his hand coming up to cradle his nose protectively.

“Sorry!”

“’Sokay,” he said, squinting strangely.

“Coat off,” she said when done, but she didn’t have to. He was already removing it and returning it to the banister.

Then she removed hers and plunked it across his shoulders.

“Huh-? You don’t have to-“

“I’m warm and dry. You’re not.” The blotchy redness on his face and neck said so clearly. “Hat,” she said.

He removed it and she gave hm hers.

She lamented again that they didn’t have any spare pants, but it was Anna’s turn now.

Zelda turned to see Urbosa already seated, now in the front-most set of double seats, huddled in Horace’s coat with a brand-new, cheerful, solstice-themed throw over her shoulders and cradling a mug of warm water in her hands.

Zelda smiled. That was battery well-spent.

Horace dropped another throw over Link’s shoulders and pointed at his seat. Link sank into it with a surprised smile, and Anna lifted a 2nd cup from the electric mug-warmer she’d plugged into an outlet on the bus.

“Here you go,” she said.

Link hooked the handle, circled the mug with his other hand, and sighed, appearing to burrow into the layers of warmth. “Thank you so much,” he said.

“Can we drink this?” Urbosa asked.

“It was top-snow,” Zelda said.

“Wonderful,” Urbosa said in throaty tones of relieved gratitude as she sipped it. Link followed suit.

“If you’re all done saving the world,” Botrick said, “I’d like to keep those doors shut from now on. Keep the heat in, save the battery.”

“Yes sir,” Link said.

People generally returned to seats after that, though they’d rearranged. Scowling-woman (Linda) had taken a double-seat near the back with scruffy-man (Zelda still hadn’t caught his name). Zelda looked at the empty seat beside Link, hesitating for a moment.

A puff of air left him with a smile. One of his hands reached under the blanket and patted the seat.

She smiled back, feeling unaccountably shy again. She slid into the seat.

“Thanks,” he said. “Really.”

“You’re welcome. I hope your nose is alright.”

“Heh.” He rubbed it with two fingers. “It’s still kind of numb.”

As he sipped his drink, Zelda reached for her slate—then realized it was now in his pocket.

“Link, would you mind handing me my slate?”

“Oh.” He fished for it and slid it out the gap in the wrapped throw.

“Thank you.” She turned it on.

1:47 am.

“Wow,” Link said.

“Well. On the upside, the storm should end in an hour.”

Link sniffed, looking a little bleary as he stared at the screen. “You have messages.”

She did indeed.

Zelda snorted. She turned to see Link also smiling at her slate. Then he looked at her and his eyes shot wide.

“Oh! Sorry.”

“Why, Link,” she said. “Here I was thinking you were a perfect gentleman.”

That was definitely a spooked face.

“Do you make a habit of reading people’s personal messages?” She kept her face mostly stern, though she allowed a tiny twitch of humor at one corner of her mouth.

His face became blotchier. “Well. I.” He swallowed. “Not. Not usually, no.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Only mine?”

The blotches faded to total pallor. Concern dropped Zelda’s stern-face for her, but he spoke at the same moment it did.

“I’m- really sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just- it was making a racket and I looked.”

She stared at him, confused.

“I thought you were getting a call.”

It took her a moment. Then her lips parted. “You mean earlier.”

He nodded.

“…You read it.”

His shoulders climbed toward his ears. “…Yeah.”

Zelda turned extremely red.

“…Do you… want your coat back?”

“Of course not- I’m not angry, I just-“ a wan smile appeared on her face and she stared at her hands now gripping the slate in her lap. “I feel ridiculous.”

“…Why?”

“Because you knew the whole time.”

“…I did?”

She looked up to find him appearing genuinely confused.

“…Of course?”

He looked first one way, then the other, then back at her. “But… I still don’t.”

She squinted a bewildered eye at him. “How can you not?”

Link blinked at her. Then he shot a quick look over her shoulder—so quick she could’ve missed it if she’d blinked.

She turned to find scruffy-man at a direct shot from his eyeline. He saw her looking and blanched. She gave him a nervous smile and a wave before she turned back to Link, who had a bit of a grimace on.

His look turned sheepish, and he tilted his head. “I- uh. You don’t have to tell me, but I’ve been trying to work out which one of us it was.”

She stared at him. Then her jaw fell open. “You- thought he was the cute one?”

“Well, there were two guys sitting next to you-“

“He’s far older than I am.”

“Some people like that.”

“He’s not usually on the bus with me.”

“Didn’t know that was part of the equation.”

“I’ve been speaking with you most of the time.”

“A lot of people get nervous and talk to everyone but the person they like. You even went all anxious when you tried to give him a cookie, you were blushing, and you did it again just now.”

“Because he believes I’m unhinged!”

Link snorted. Then he smiled. Then he grinned. A lot. “So… does that mean it’s me?” he asked.

Zelda sat suddenly straight up, her face somehow trying to pale and flush at the same time. She swallowed and tried to have a well, obviously face on even though she’d begun to tremble. Her knuckles turned white on her slate. “Of course it’s you.”

He sat up straighter again, too, his eyes flicking between hers. Then he saw her shaking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“…Are you cold?”

“Not really��you should keep the coat until you’re fully warmed.” She said, her eyes again on her slate’s now-blank screen. The throw rose and fell slowly with his breaths in her vision.

Then he dug around inside it somewhere. He stretched out a bit to reach something, then produced his own slate. He turned it on, sniffing a bit, and unlocked the screen. The battery icon was red.

“Can I show you something?” he asked.

The tremor in his voice made her seek out his face. He swallowed nervously.

“You may,” Zelda said.

He gave her a sheepish smile, opened his messages, and tapped on a conversation with someone named “Cheeter.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“It’s what I call my sister,” he said with a smirk. He scrolled up to a certain part. “Here.”

And he handed it to her.

Link groaned. “Sorry. She just likes messing with me.”

A deep smile had grown on Zelda’s face. She’d tried to hide it by resting her mouth in her palm as she read. “I can tell,” she said muffled into it. “I- believe you’ve only a little battery life left to respond.”

“Yeah.” He reached for it. Then he smirked at her. “You can look.”

“Oh?”

He shut his slate off and stowed it back in his pocket. He stared at his lap for a moment, his face very red, then dragged his eyes up toward hers with a face clearly hoping for forgiveness. The smile on her face seemed to open his entire expression up.

“You’ve been… babbling about me for months?” she asked.

There it was—that soft laugh of his again.

She loved that laugh.

“You’re… very pretty. And super cute.”

She smiled deeper, her eyes seemingly searching the bus for reasons she might be interpreted as cute.

“There. You just did a cute thing,” he said.

“All I did was be confused.”

“You do this cute thing when you side-step.”

She blinked. “When I… side-step?”

“Yeah! Like when the bus is standing room only and you step left or right, you do it cutely.”

This time, she did stare at him like he was crazy.

“But I didn’t know how kind and thoughtful you were until today,” he said quietly. “Or how smart. Or how good you are at bringing people together.”

“Oh no- no, social skills are most certainly not my strong point.”

“No one else here made a move to help each other get through this until you did. No one else thought about something that legitimately could’ve killed people out there tonight. And it was you who organized this-“ he tugged the throw and lifted his mug- “wasn’t it?”

“Well. It wasn’t a difficult undertaking. We merely had to identify what we had available to bring you two back up to temperature. And,” she said with an involuntary hair-toss, “we only did so because you two braved the storm out of concern for people’s safety.”

A small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “I can hold a shovel.”

“It didn’t have to be you.”

He shrugged. “I’m in good shape, my clothes were good for it, and I’m fast. It made sense.”

She huffed, squinting at him suspiciously, though she couldn’t stop smiling.

She supposed he could have been showing off.

Just a little.

Now that she knew she’d already caught his eye.

His eyebrows went further and further up under his (now extremely messy) bangs.

A yawn interrupted Zelda’s pondering of his motivations—a spectacular yawn indeed. She held the back of her hand to her mouth, as it didn’t seem to want to shut.

“Oh- nohh-“ Link yawned in response.

“Oh NOOhhh-hhh-hherrr!”

They both looked at Botrick.

He yawned again.

“Yawns’re infectious,” he said. “Especially at 2:30 am.”

“You… were watching us?” Link asked.

“What else do I have for entertainment?”

Any response Zelda might’ve had disappeared into another yawn.

Link gave her a sheepish look. Then he opened the throw with a questioning one.

She blinked at his arm, now outstretched on the plastic seatback, holding one edge of the small blanket.

“If- if you’d like to,” he said.

She only hesitated a moment.

Then she twisted to face forward and sit back in the seat. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, the throw with it, and after a moment, she rested her head on his shoulder.

She peered up at him.

His smile was absolutely adorable.

Zelda awoke pleasantly warm, even on the crown of her head, and with a bleary smile she didn’t understand at first, though her neck hurt a bit. She snuggled deeper into the warmth at her side, and an arm hugged her warmer and closer around her shoulders. Then she remembered.

Her eyelids drifted open to the odd sight of her own coat on someone else’s chest.

Link lifted his cheek from her hair. “Good morning,” he said.

She craned her neck, her chin now on his chest, and she could hardly believe she was looking up at him. “Hello,” she said.

Sunlight backlit his smile.

Then she noticed the commotion outside.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Seems like we’ll be leaving soon. There’s plows.”

“Praise Hylia,” Botrick grumbled, arms crossed and eyes bloodshot.

“Are you alright to drive?” Zelda asked.

“I slept. I just didn’t like it.”

Link cocked his head at him. Then he looked at Zelda. “You officially awake?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He tugged questioningly at the throw.

She nodded, suddenly understanding, and sadly allowed that glorious warmth to be removed.

Link stood, stretched, and draped the throw over Botrick’s shoulders.

Botrick looked like he was going to protest—then he pulled it closed around his neck and muttered a thank you.

“We did save you some mead,” Link said.

“Can’t accept it. Driver can’t open-carry.”

Link’s face fell. “You sure?”

“Yup.”

The bus finally moved at 7:01 am, on 12% battery-life and higgledy-piggledy lanes carved by everything that moved before them. They bumped along at a snail’s pace, bouncing over every snow-hill made between standstill cars and the plow-passes of the last few hours. They all cried out in mixed indignation and laughter with each one, and when they finally felt the incline of the off-ramp, they cheered.

Link and Zelda exchanged coats and hats, and throws, cups, mug-warmers, and the responsibility of trash disposal were distributed among the passengers. Canvas-bag-woman retrieved Link’s bag with the red-cabbage in it, which had rolled toward the back of the bus.

Scruffy-man and Linda got off at the first stop, hand-in…

Hand?

She tromped down the steps without a second glance, but scruffy-man stopped and looked at Zelda. He then raised his hand with the most unnatural-looking smile she’d ever seen.

“I’m… taken,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Then he disembarked.

Link turned to her, wide-eyed. “See?! See, he thought so too!!”

When Urbosa’s turn arrived, she paused by them, too, and handed Zelda her card.

“That’s my number,” she said. “I want to be invited to the wedding.” Then she nodded at Link. “It was a pleasure working with you.”

Zelda stared, transfixed, at the card as the doors closed. Link turned beet red and rubbed the back of his neck.

The weather warning had been an understatement.

Easily three feet of snow had accumulated, with snow drifts and plow-mountains the height of the bus itself. Botrick was stopping to let people off at the edges of intersections rather than stops—otherwise they’d never make it. The sidewalks were haphazardly shoveled, and it appeared that in order to get to one of them, one had to navigate snow-hills the height of the parked cars.

Zelda’s stop was coming up.

She adjusted her hat and donned her gloves. They’d long-since dried.

“You’re next,” Link said.

“Mm-hm.”

“Uhm.” He swallowed. “I- could I-“

“Oh!!” she struggled to tug her slate free of her pocket. How could she have forgotten to get his number? After all that!!

He tried to turn his on, but it remained black. The battery had finally run out.

He rolled his eyes and returned it to his pocket, looking at her as she managed to turn her slate on, at least. The bus rolled to a stop while it was still booting up.

“Oh-“

Link stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

His smile turned very lopsided. “I’m not far from here,” he said. “I can walk you home?”

She beamed at him.

They waved goodbye as they stamped down the steps. Link landed perfectly in a 2-foot deep bed of crispy snow like a gazelle, his feet punching perfect holes in it. Zelda didn’t quite have that level of grace, but she didn’t disgrace herself either, neither slipping nor wobbling on her way out.

The doors closed, and Botrick began to pull away.

A soft bonking sound drew Zelda’s eyes to the bus.

“OH!” She shouted.

Link spun, his hands outstretched as though ready to grapple. “What?!”

“STOP! STOP!!”

As the bus trundled, a strange little package bounced off its side, spinning merrily on the end of a length of twine.

“Oh NO!” Link yelled, and suddenly he was off like a shot with snow-mountain-climbing angled feet, hurrying to the top of the peak in that direction.

Zelda packed a massive snowball and threw it at the windows.

The bus squeaked to a halt, and the door opened.

“What in Hebra are you two DOING?!” Botrick yelled.

Zelda cupped her hands around her mouth. “THE PIGEON!!”

“Hylia save us!” floated Botrick’s voice as he put the bus into park.

They stumbled, slipped, climbed, and giggled their way to Zelda’s little house three streets straight in from the stop, their arms around each other’s shoulders half the time, not because they had to be, but because they couldn’t seem to help it.

A package of frozen pigeon hard as a brick (and accompanying peas) dangled from one of Link’s hands. He didn’t want to put it in the bag with either his red cabbage or eggs.

Only a small amount of mead remained in the bottle in Zelda’s bag.

When they reached Zelda’s walkway, Link waded through the snow to make a path for her—no one had been home to shovel. She thanked him the only proper way—by packing and throwing snowballs at his back.

“If I hadn’t just cut a path for you, I’d throw you in the snow,” he said.

She threw a snowball at his front.

“That’s it.” He stalked toward her.

She eeped and spun, but he was quicker. He had her in his arms in an instant, one under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She squeaked and wrapped her arms around his neck hard.

He swung her to the side. “One.”

She gasped and clung harder.

And again- “Two.”

She squeaked more.

“Three!” he said with a swing she was sure would send her into the neighbor’s yard, but he pulled her back to his chest with that soft laugh of his.

She looked up at him with trepidation.

He twinkled at her.

Then he walked her sideways, slowly and carefully so her feet and hair wouldn’t drag in the snow, up the steps, and deposited her safely at her front door.

She didn’t want to let go of his neck—but she did. She made a show of brushing the snow off his coat.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Any time.”

And then it occurred she still hadn’t gotten his number. Her smile fell.

He breathed a soft puff of air. “Well. I’d better dig my way home and do something with this pigeon. I-“ he hesitated. “I’d really like. To. Um…” he scratched the back of his head. “See you again.”

She curled one of her hands around his. “Did you… have plans today?”

“Today?” he asked.

“Yes. Anyone expecting you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, then.” She eyed his clothing. “If- if you’d like to, you’re welcome to come in.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at his still-spinning package of peas and poultry. Then he smiled. “I could cook for you.”

Her head jerked up. “Oh?!”

“Yeah! I don’t have the apples anymore, but I can still braise the red cabbage, and I can still do the pigeon as long as you have some oil and herbs, or even if you don’t, really, I can figure something out.”

“…I have apples,” she said.

“Well then! Uh-“ he paused, looking down at himself. “Although – maybe I’d better stop at my place first. I’ll be soaked.”

She shook her head. “You’ll end up snowy all over again on your way back. Unless there are any other reasons you wish to go that you’re uncomfortable telling me, in which case that’s completely fine, I propose instead that you borrow some of my comfy pants.”

“Comfy pants?”

“Indeed. Unreasonably large sweatpants I would have absolutely no business wearing in public, but which are utterly inoffensive to the tactile senses.”

He looked so deeply into her eyes. “They sound amazing.”

“They are.”

He nodded. “That settles it. Your pants, my food.”

“Happy Solstice,” she said with a grin.

“Happy Solstice,” he chuckled.

As they crossed the threshold, kicked off their snow-coated boots and hung their hats and coats, an earlier worry crossed Zelda’s mind: that he, unlike her, had no aversion to unpredictability.

She’d thought that might be a point of friction.

Relief widened her smile even further—for she’d been completely incorrect. This event had been utterly unpredictable in every way, but unless she was very mistaken, it was one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

He turned from the coat hooks, caught her eye, and flushed, and it occurred to Zelda that she may not be the only person in the room who had a little difficulty navigating social situations.

She took his hand again. “In case it isn’t clear—and it may not be, these things confuse me—I like you very much.”

He flushed deeper. “I like you very much, too.”

“And I am interested in kissing you.”

He seemed to almost laugh, but it turned quickly into a sideways smile that morphed into a swallow, then a nervous face. He squeezed her hand, and his next breaths arrived faster. “I am- very interested in kissing you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Very?”

He nodded with a small, puffed laugh.

She took his other hand in hers. “But I will not pressure you.”

“Pressure me?”

“Yes. You appear nervous.”

“I am,” he said, with another swallow. “You’re-“ and another swallow- “so beautiful.”

Her breath caught. “And you- are extremely handsome.”

He shrugged.

It made her laugh a little. She brushed one of his bangs away from his eyes.

It seemed to pull them together, somehow.

The tip of his nose touched hers—then slid toward her cheek—and their lips met soft like feathers, with a silent thrill that made Zelda’s body rise, her hand warm on his cheek. When their lips parted, she could feel him trembling everywhere, even in the way he breathed on her skin.

“Best bus ride ever,” he said.

She found herself giggling, and his soft laugh turned into full-on laughter as he curled his arms up her back and she wrapped hers hard around his neck, an embrace of joy and of hope for a spectacular new year.

~~The End~~

[Note: A huge thank-you to my partner who let me borrow his phone for the purpose of making the images!]

#the legend of zelda #fanfiction #botw au #modern au #romcom #romantic comedy #humor #fluff #midna's merry mixup #ah public buses #a tiny bit of strong language #embedded images with alt text

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year ago

Text

Part 3, Chapter 10

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 3

Chapter 10

Calina adjusted the blanket over Inessa, careful not to disturb the sleeping Widow. She stared longingly at the spare strip of mattress on the bed, the desire to curl up on it and sleep overwhelming.

But she had things to do first.

She settled into the armchair in the corner of the hospital room and fished out her phone from her bag. Then sucked in a breath at the notification on the screen: 14 missed calls.

All from Matt.

Shit. He really had been trying to contact her.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, so confused by what it meant.

What did he want to say to her so urgently?

Part of her didn’t want to find out. If they were just going to fight again, or if he was just going to confirm they were done, she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t have the strength right now. Especially when she had more important things to take care of. She scrolled past Matt’s name in the phone and found the entry for Yelena. She leaned back in the chair and hit ‘dial’.

Yelena picked up after the second ring. “Calina? How’s Inessa? Katya said she woke up in the van.”

“She did. She’s okay. They did a CAT scan of her head and there’s no fracture or internal bleeding. Just a bad concussion. They’re keeping her in just to monitor her.”

Yelena exhaled. “Thank God.”

“I know. She got lucky.”

“Are you staying with her overnight?”

“Technically, I’m not supposed to - visitor’s policy. But I can find a way to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe.”

“Calina…there’s no need. She is safe. We all are.”

“Is that confirmed?” Calina asked, almost hesitantly, scared to hope. “We’re definitely safe now?”

“Yes,” Yelena replied, and Calina could hear such weight in that one small word. It seemed to hold all the worry and fear and responsibility that Yelena had carried all these months - worry and fear and responsibility that she could now let go of.

“Volkov and his men are all dead,” Yelena continued. “We drugged him up to the eyeballs with truth serum beforehand and he confirmed that there’s no one left in his faction. The warehouse has been torched, and we injected those two lab rats with the hypnotic knock-out drug you gave Ranieri. They’ll wake up tomorrow thinking they were working on a new type of insulin but were laid off due to budget cuts.”

“Speaking of Ranieri, what about him?”

“Anya’s already sent off the blackmail email. She made it clear that we’re monitoring him, and if there’s even a hint that he’s told anyone about Volkov and the Widows, we’ll release all his dirty secrets to the world. Then we’ll kill him.”

“So its really over.”

“Yes. It’s over. We’re free.”

Relief flooded Calina’s exhausted system. She slumped back in the chair, feeling a swell of euphoria and numbness, the strange combination bubbling up as laughter. She let out a giggle. Which then turned into a sob. She clamped a hand over her mouth to catch the sound. “Sorry,” she said to Yelena.

“Don’t worry. There’s been a fair bit of hysteria and tears over here. I’ll send Viktoria to come pick you up and bring you back. You can get cleaned up, get some food in you.”

Calina smiled as hints of Yelena's mother-hen nature slipped out. As much as she tried to hide that aspect of herself behind barked orders and a stern facade, all of the other Widows had seen evidence of Yelena's care and concern over the past year.

"What is everyone going to do now?” Calina wondered.

“Well, right now, we’re getting roaring drunk on cheap wine and good vodka,” Yelena replied. “Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe we’ll all come to New York and take turns sleeping on your sofa.”

Calina frowned, her earlier confusion about Matt returning. “I don’t know if I’ll be in New York. Things with Matt…I don’t know where we stand.”

“But he showed up tonight. That has to mean something.”

Calina remembered all the missed calls. “I think he just had no other way to reach me.”

“Either way, that’s a problem for tomorrow. Enjoy tonight, Calina. We did it. It’s over.”

———

Calina stepped outside the main entrance to the hospital and took a deep breath, relishing in the chilled air that flooded her lungs. The freezing cold breeze stirred goosebumps on her bared arms and her injured knee throbbed, but she didn’t care.

She was alive. She was safe. And she was free.

She giggled again, her emotions still spiralling. She didn’t know how to process all this. How to contain and manage all this joy and relief and all the sheer possibilities open to her now.

She could go anywhere. She could do anything, be anyone.

She'd thought she was taking advantage of that kind of freedom when she'd first moved to New York. But she’d been weighed down by all the guilt she’d felt about abandoning her sisters and the nagging sense in the pit of her stomach that she was living on borrowed time.

It felt different this time.

It felt real.

“Lady, are you okay?” A paramedic wheeling an empty gurney out to his ambulance stopped and stared at Calina, a worried expression on his face.

Calina realised she must look strange, smiling like a lunatic in the dead of night, wearing a skimpy cocktail dress when it was 30 degrees out. “I’m okay. I’m, uh, just waiting for-”

“Me. Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” Calina jerked in surprise at the sound of Matt’s voice from behind her. Then she felt the heavy wool of a coat as he draped it over her. He rubbed her arms through the material to warm her up as he reassured the EMT. “I’ll get her home now, thanks.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see he’d changed out of his Daredevil suit and was wearing sweats and sneakers, with a ball-cap pulled down low over his face to hide his unseeing eyes.

“Okay, man, no problem,” the man said, resuming his task.

Calina turned to face Matt. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home hours ago.”

“I did,” he replied, still rubbing her arms. “Then I got changed and came right back.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

Instead of answering straight away, he led her over to a metal bench near the ambulance bay. They sat down next to each other, Calina huddling into the warmth of his coat, and savouring the scent that clung to the fabric. It was pure Matt - dark and masculine and delicious.

Matt leaned forward, his arms draped between his spread knees. “I can’t really explain why I came back. I just...I didn’t want to wait for some vague ‘later’ to talk to you. So I jumped in a cab. I’m sorry if you think I’m intruding, or crowding you-”

“No. Not at all,” she insisted. “I’m glad you’re here. But you could have called, you know, instead of waiting out in the cold.” She waved her cell phone at him. “I would have answered this time.”

“If I had to wait much longer, I was going to start banging out morse code on this metal bench until you heard me.”

She smiled. “That’s my trick.”

“And it always worked. I always came running to you.”

———

Calina seemed flustered by his admission. She glanced away, biting her lip and fidgeting slightly on the bench. Then she forced out a laugh and tried to make light of his words. “You’ll, uh, need to come up with a different code. I’m not ‘D.D.’”

He decided to play along. He’d take this conversation at her pace - he was just glad they were finally together and getting a chance to talk. “How about C.B. then? For Calina Balashova. Or B.W., for Black Widow?”

“It would have to be E.B.W. now - Ex-Black Widow.”

“So you’re out then? It’s all over?”

She nodded, and blew out a breath between pursed lips. “It doesn’t quite feel real, but yeah, its all over. Volkov’s…gone. They’re all gone. We’re finally free.”

He sat back, his shoulder brushing against hers. “And Inessa?”

“She’s going to be okay.”

“Good. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Calina said, shifting on the bench to face him. “For saving her. You said I could thank you when she woke up, and she woke up so…thank you.”

Matt just shrugged. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“If you hadn’t been there…”

She glanced away again, and he could hear her blink to clear sudden tears. He took her hand in his and squeezed. “Hey, don’t think about the ‘what ifs’. She’s alive. You’re alive. Just concentrate on that.”

Matt felt like a massive hypocrite, doling out advice that he wasn’t following himself. The whole reason he was here, sitting on this bench in the freezing cold, was because he couldn’t get the ‘what ifs’ out of his head. The biggest ones being: What if he’d never gone to that warehouse tonight? What if Calina had been left to fight those supersoldiers alone? And what if she’d failed?

He could have lost her.

Forever.

He’d realised it intellectually soon after the battle, during their ride to the hospital, but the emotion of it - the gut-wrenching terror and pain of that possibility - had hit him like a brick the moment he’d entered his apartment.

He’d stepped over the threshold of the cold, empty, dark space and had gotten a glimpse of what his life would be like if she was gone. Truly gone.

It would be cold. And empty. And dark.

And he didn’t know if he’d be able to survive it.

So he’d shoved on a change of clothes and caught a cab to the hospital, unwilling to wait a single moment more to clear the air between them.

He could get over her lies. He could learn to trust her again. He could live with their differing moral codes.

He couldn’t live without her.

Even just sitting beside her like this, her hand in his, was the most content he’d been in weeks. She still had a way of calming that restless energy inside him, of soothing the dark edges and bringing him peace - just as she’d done from the beginning.

Matt basked in the sensation...until the temperature around them dropped another degree, and a light sprinkling of rain moistened the air. Calina started to shiver despite his thick coat, and he felt her suppress a yawn.

It was cold and wet, and she was obviously tired. So he nudged her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

He stood up, but she stayed seated, their hand still linked and outstretched between them. She stared up at him in confusion. “What?”

“Let’s go back to mine. We can talk more tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.”

“Your place?”

“Yeah. Its closer than New Jersey.”

She shook her head. “But I thought…I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me.”

Matt frowned. He tugged on her hand, pulling her up to stand in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

“The other night. We broke up, and-”

“Calina, we didn’t break up. We had a fight - a big fight, granted - but we can get past it. We can work it out. That’s why I’ve been trying to contact you. To talk things through.”

Calina bit her lip and ducked her head. And then he tasted salt on the air and knew she was crying. He wound his arms around her and held her close. “Hey, come on, Callie. Don’t cry.”

She mumbled something against his sweatshirt. He pulled back and cradled her face in his hands, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “What did you say?”

“I said, I thought you hated me.”

He pressed a quick kiss against her lips, then rested his forehead against hers. “No, I don’t hate you. I was just angry. And hurt. But I love you.”

“Really?” she sniffed. “Still?”

He laughed. “Yes, still. Always. Forever.”

“I love you too. And I’m so sorry for lying to you.”

“I’m sorry for judging you.”

He pulled her back into her arms and held her tightly. After a few moments, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home.”

She stepped back and wiped her face. “But one of my sisters is on the way to pick me up.”

“So call her. Tell her not to bother. Let me take care of you tonight.”

Calina was a nurturer - he’d sensed that in her from almost the beginning. The way she’d cared for their elderly neighbour; the way she liked to cook for him, and read to him, and stroke his hair when he rested his head on her lap…

He’d lost sight of that over the last couple of days. He’d only seen the ruthless, deadly Black Widow. The one who killed her enemies and lied to him about it.

But that wasn’t the real Calina. That was the weapon she’d been forced to become by the men who’d stolen her as a child.

Earlier tonight, watching her take care of Inessa - hugging her, and soothing her fears, and generally acting like a loving big sister - he’d re-discovered the real Calina.

She was a nurturer. A carer. But she deserved to be cared for too. And he wanted to be the one to care for her tonight.

So he held out his hand to her…and smiled when she took it.

———

Calina stirred as the taxi slowed to a stop.

She’d fallen asleep.

Not surprising, really - she was exhausted. Bone weary and running on empty. And not just because of the late hour, or the earlier battle in the warehouse, or all her uncertainty over her relationship with Matt.

She felt like she’d been running on pure adrenaline for months - since Volkov reared his ugly head, really. A part of her had always been looking over her shoulder. On edge, wondering when she might be discovered by his goons.

And now that it was all over…the comedown was heavy. She felt like she could sleep for a week.

Matt helped her out of the cab and up the steps, taking some of her weight off her sore knee. “If you tell me the elevator’s out again, I think I might cry,” she joked.

Matt laughed. “No, it’s working. But I’d carry you up the six flights if it wasn’t.”

They rode up to his apartment in silence. As he unlocked his door, she apologised. “Sorry, I know you wanted to talk, but I’m just really tired tonight.”

“Hey,” he said, removing the coat from her shoulders. “I told you, we can talk tomorrow. If you want to go straight to bed you can. Or if you want some food first, I can order something, or heat up some soup.”

She collapsed down onto the new sofa and rested her head against the back of it. “Soup would be great. Thank you.”

“Do you need something for your knee?” He crouched down beside her and gently palpated the slightly swollen joint. Calina hissed as he probed a developing bruise. “What happened to it?”

“It was stupid. Yelena and I were sparring this evening - before we realised Volkov had arrived at the warehouse - and we took it too far.”

“Bad timing.”

Calina huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. And its the same knee I hurt before, so its probably more prone to damage now. I’ll need to watch-” She broke off as a realisation came to her.

“What?”

“I was just thinking this knee’s a weakness now. And I’ll have to compensate for it in future fights…but there won’t be any future fights. I never have to fight again.” She said the words with all the wonder she felt inside at that prospect.

She never had to fight again.

She shook her head and smiled at Matt. “You won’t understand that concept,” she teased. “You’ll still be suiting up to fight when you’re old and grey.”

Matt shrugged. “I gave it up once, so you never know.”

“You did? When? Why?”

“Story for another time,” he called out over his shoulder as he strode towards the kitchen. He returned with a frozen bag of peas which he placed on her knee, then he got started on the soup.

Calina sat back and enjoyed his fussing. She knew they still had a lot to talk about. And she knew some of that ‘talk’ wouldn’t be pleasant - they had some work to do before they could move on in their relationship - but right now she was just so happy to be back here. On this couch, in this apartment, with the sounds of Matt navigating around the kitchen and the smell of chicken soup on the stove.

It was more than she’d ever expected waking up this morning.

And way more than she deserved.

But for once, she was just going to enjoy it. She submitted willingly and gratefully to Matt’s administrations - the food, the ice on her knee, the bandaging of her few cuts and scrapes and the loan of his softest, comfiest sweats to sleep in. But as they curled up in his bed later on, Matt pressed up close behind her with one strong arm anchoring her to him, she couldn’t resist bringing up one topic - she didn’t want him to end tonight without clearing something up.

“Matt?” she whispered into the darkened, hushed room.

“Hmmm?” he replied, sounding half-asleep already.

“I, um, didn’t kill anyone tonight.”

He stilled behind her.

“I just wanted you to know,” she rushed on. “For what it’s worth.”

He pulled her even closer and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “It’s worth something. But we can talk about it more tomorrow. Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Calina smiled at the familiar, beloved nickname, and did just that.

————–

Chapter 11

Tag list: @hollandorks @chezagnes @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #tabula rasa #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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verumfm · 1 year ago

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is that … KSHITIJ ACHARI, GWENDOLYN COTHI JONES, CHALIDA ‘FERN’ JIRAYUNGYURN, GIRISHA TYAGI, SAVINA MASOE, KIRANA ‘KAI’ MALAIWONG, BAEK HARU, RYU JI-HOON, ASTORIA WYNNE-JONES, NAKANO KIMIKO, ARTURO VALIENTE, PROSPERO ESKANDER, & SALIM NOVAK returning home after a journey? the town of cynefin welcomes you. please be sure to review our local laws before you settle in.

the following faceclaims & positions are now taken: arjun rampal, yaya dacosta, mookda narinrak, aditi rao hydari, davika hoorne, zorzo natharuetai, go minsi, ji changwook, laufey lín bing jónsdóttir, anna sawai, pedro pascal, tamino amir, emilio sakraya, & the professors of beginner metallurgy (etc.), weaponry theory (etc.), & death of the superego (etc.), head librarian, lab assistant (1/4), security staff (1/3), rare magic (2/5), familiars (2/5), & muses 4, 5, 6, 11.

( arjun rampal , cis man , he/him ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize KSHITIJ ACHARI, the forty-two year old professor. having spent seven years as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of catching the edge of your cloak from the corner of your eye and wondering if you’re truly alone ; the heavy weight of a thick wine coating your throat ; the sound of journal papers crinkling while struggling to hold a leather-bound journal close ; dark nights where the sound of thunder is welcome companion ; silence so harsh it squishes your eardums painfully. their patient and meticulous temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be strict and blunt. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. ╱ pal, 28, any, gmt+5:30.

( yaya dacosta , nonbinary , they/she ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize GWENDOLYN COTHI JONES, the thirty-nine year old head librarian. having spent seventeen years as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of dark-roast coffee leaving behind an imprint on the corner-edge of an ancient tome ; eyes crinkling over the ledge of gilded spectacles, one eyebrow raised in greeting ; the vanilla & musk, dense scent of a beeswax candle left too long on the hearth. their logical and knowledgeable temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be strict and irritable. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. ╱ nikki, 30, they/them, est.

( mookda narinrak , nonbinary , they/them ) — one day the sea will sing of CHALIDA ‘FERN’ JIRAYUNGYURN, the twenty-eight year old healer from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about oleander unfurling in the palms of their hands, only to burn & rot black at the edges ; the whispers of a creature against the dangling, heirloom earring passed down from their family as a symbol of fortune ; the bitter & thickened taste of herbs in tea scalding the throat in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone attentive and empathetic, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are secretive and particular. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ nikki, 30, they/them, est.

( aditi rao hydari , cis woman , she/her ) — one day the sea will sing of GIRISHA TYAGI, the thirty-two year old apothecary from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about the wet chill of morning mist clinging to the lining of your dress ; toes sinking into mud until it squishes so deep under your nail beds that it never leaves ; the reflection of bloodshot eyes caught in water-stained glass vials ; the press of soft hair resting on the nape of your neck ; the burn of heavy earrings dragging your tender earlobes in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is (informally) trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone vibrant and optimistic, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are nosy and deceptive. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ pal, 28, any, gmt+5:30.

( davika hoorne , cis woman , she/her ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize SAVINA MASOE, the thirty-one year old lab assistant within the school. having spent two years as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of white light passed through a glass prism, a fractured reflection in the looking glass, blooming plants in a thriving greenhouse, a dream forever just beyond reach, and eyes so bright they see right through you. their perceptive and inquisitive temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be competitive and single-minded. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. ╱ liza, 28, she/her, aest.

( zorzo natharuetai, cis woman, she/her ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize KIRANA ‘KAI’ MALAIWONG , the thirty-two year old security staff within the school. having spent one month as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of a hand reaching into the monster’s open jaw, no mercy shown for a moment’s weakness / the first light of dawn, the world didn’t end yet / the echo of a blade striking, phantom grip making knuckles turn white. their devoted and diligent temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be tactless and wary. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. / gen, 29, she/her, est.

( go minsi, nonbinary, she/they ) — one day the sea will sing of BAEK HARU, the twenty-nine year old trader from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about blood staining your lips, your own flesh stuck in your teeth / the low hum of a long - lost melody, forgotten for a reason, yet nested familiarly within a mind / a dance with the devil, a feast with the hells. in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone charismatic and eloquent, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are vindictive and rapacious. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ gen, 29, she/her, est.

( ji changwook , cis man , he/him ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize RYU JI-HOON, the thirty-six year old professor within the school. having spent three years as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of abandoned projects of broken wood collecting dust in a spare closet, something between a smirk and a smile highlighting soft features, the coarse and warm smell of pine and oak, quiet and steady waves washing across a midnight shore, and calloused hands with a gentle touch. their charming and easygoing temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be secretive and vain. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. ╱ jasmine, 22, she/her, est.

( laufey lín bing jónsdóttir , cis woman , she/her ) — one day the sea will sing of ASTORIA WYNNE-JONES, the twenty-four year old librarian from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about a newborn fawn caught alone in the hollow underbelly of the woods, a thousand faces — none of which you can place, a rose more thorn than petal, and an intolerable tenderness… a girl known by everyone and no one in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is untrained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone allocentric and magnanimous, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are casuistic and vitriolic. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ steph, 29, she/her, est.

( anna sawai , cis-woman , she/her ) — one day the sea will sing of NAKANO KIMIKO, the thirty-one year old writer from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about a message scrawled and shoved into a bottle — tossed out to sea and left to wash up along the shore, the empty space left by a page torn right from the binding of a book, ink spilled and smudged on a worn sheet of paper, and a ribcage filled with flowers… but they are all dead — dead… dead in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone adaptable and sagacious, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are insoluble and acerbic. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ steph, 29, she/her, est.

( pedro pascal , cis man , he/him ) — amongst the faces lining the staff portrait wall, you recognize ARTURO VALIENTE, the forty-eight year old professor within the school. having spent one year as a member of the verum staff, students say that they’re reminiscent of battered chainmail laid to rest alongside a life's purpose, blood-rimmed canines as you grin & bear an unimaginable pain, a stoic strength reminiscent of trees as old as time itself, a piercing gaze as you wrack your brain for an answer that simply won't come, and a cavernous divide between your students — half of them sycophantic, half irreverent. their dogged and venerable temperament brings color to these halls, but be warned, you may also find them to be unforgiving and brutal. regardless, hopefully they’ll remain when it’s time for verum to open its doors again. ╱ c, 23, they/she, pst.

( tamino amir , cis man , he/him ) — the halls of verum academy is home to PROSPERO ESKANDER, the twenty-four year old student of decomposition. listen to the whispers that follow them through the door of the death of the superego classroom, the ones about a morbid fascination with entropy & its inevitability, the steady rhythm of pacing footsteps as piano hands thumb through the pages of a centuries-old book, the imperceptible twitch of an eyebrow upon noticing a fatal flaw, and the rustling of inky feathers just before a crow takes flight, a charm that comes so naturally that you can't help but be unnerved. once they graduate, their legacy will be one that is ingenious and courtly in nature, but the records will not mention that they are known to be acerbic and duplicitous, too. they are, after all, the future of verum. ╱ c, 23, they/she, pst.

( emilio sakraya , cis man , he/him ) — one day the sea will sing of SALIM NOVAK, the twenty-seven year old soldier from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about sparks created by the clashing of swords, the hand that catches you right before you fall, a white eye that swirls with memories of pain and destruction — a scar acts as a remnant of a battle lost, and whispered mantras that combat despair in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is untrained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone valiant and determined, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are self-destructive and impulsive. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ j, 26, she/they, est.

#appless rp #fantasy rp #period rp #town rp #magic rp #accepted.

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sariel626 · 2 years ago

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How Poe became a father

Oh boy, here we go. This outta be an adventure.

Also, Reader is 5 1/2 because anyone with a younger sibling knows that half matters -_-

TW: Mentions of murder, parents hating their kid, and OOC Guild Characters

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I walked besides Sir and Miss, well, actually they’re my mommy and daddy, but they don’t like me to call them that. We were walking through these fancy hallways that looked just like our house and my legs were getting tired, but I knew if I said that, Miss would lecture me again. We’ve been following this guy dressed a lot like a farmer. He told us he was gonna take us to someone named Francis? Miss and Sir looked super nervous when the guy said that. Is Francis a bully?

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t even realize our escort talking to me. “Hey there, you look a bit distressed. Is everything alright, little one?” the guy asked with a smile, not stopping for a second. I replied, “I’m fine, I just like to think a lot. Thank you for asking.” “And what do you like to think about?” I saw Miss and Sir let out a sigh of relief out of the corner of my eye. They probably thought I would screw up...like usual, “Oh, just things I can draw later or books I’ve read.” The blond guy chuckled, “You like the children’s books about Momotaro right?” I shook my head and told him that those were good for learning new words, but I liked the Tattoo Murder by Akimitsu Takagi. I explained that a servant read it for me and every other murder mystery mommy and daddy had. If I call them Miss and Sir in front of these people, they might get mad and then after we leave, they’ll take me to the lab they do work in and I DON’T want to go back there...The guy was a bit surprised by my answer, or at least, his face showed it, but it quickly turned back into a smile, “If you like reading and murder mysteries that much, then you and our architect would get along very well!” It was as if he hadn’t been surprised at all. I am curious about their architect though...no! Curiosity kills the cat! We arrived at a set of red doors and I held my head up, trying to hide any tears of fear of who was behind the door.

The farmer guy pushed the doors open revealing another blond man in a white suit talking to a girl with glasses holding papers, maybe she’s his secretary? He gave off an aura of power as he smirked at us and leaned back into the couch he was sitting on. I felt Miss and Sir’s nervousness increase as the other two people left. There was a thick tension in the air until Francis(?) spoke with a smile, “Eliza! Damien! It’s so good to see you both again. I take it this is your daughter you spoke of?” Sir responded with a nervous smile, “It’s great to see you as well. Yes, this is our daughter, (Reader).” Hearing my name, I curtsied and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The man in the white suit grinned with mischief in his eyes and picked up his wine glass. He shifted his gaze back to my parents and began to speak again, “Damien...I’ve heard that your business has began to decline in profit, is this true?” “Yes Francis, it is, but it is simply a result from the decline in the demand fo-” SLAP!!! A loud sound was heard from Francis slapping his glove across Sir’s face with a displeased look, “You seriously excuse your failures through the decrease in demand? If that ever happens, you get your marketers to work on attracting customers back; creating new products, use billboards, anything works as long as it brings in the customers you’re losing.” The man dressed in white sighed in clear disappointment, a sound I know all too well… “Unfortunately, we’ll have to exclude you and Eliza from the Guild. I’m sure you can understand.”

BANG!!! A gunshot rang out and my daddy’s body fell to the floor. I froze up as I gazed at the sight. D-Daddy is…actually dead…BANG!!! BANG!!! Two more shots came from the direction of Francis causing my mommy to also fall, blood staining her dress. I snapped out of my trance and ran as fast as I could into the hallway, abandoning my flats to make it easier to run.

I passed by a man dressed like a priest. I got about seven feet away before his ability pulled me back. “And where do you think you are going, little one?” I looked back and saw a chain of letters forming a rope, lifting me up by the back of my dress. Seeing the killer in the white suit catching up with his coworkers, I grabbed onto the letter-chain-things and ripped the bottom half of my dress. I kept running and running until my stamina began to run low.

I went into a random dark room and hid in the first place I saw…underneath a desk😥. I held my legs as I curled into a ball, trying not to make too much noise while tears fell from my eyes. Then, I heard a voice, “What’s that, Karl?” Footsteps grew louder as they approached where I was hiding and I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the man to find and kill me. I heard a light and surprised voice, “Oh, there’s a child under my desk.” I opened my eyes and saw the man peering under the desk with a raccoon next to him. I gave him a look of pure fear and weakly asked, “Please don’t kill me…” The man with disheveled brown hair covering his eyes paused for a moment as if he were contemplating something.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door…or the desk, it was hard to tell. I heard a door slam open and the voice of the guy I talked to before meeting Francis, “Hey Poe, have you seen a little girl in a purple dress at all? Francis is looking for her.” His voice sounded so innocent, it almost made me sick. “What are you doing underneath your desk? Did you find her?” I tried to motion to the ‘Poe’ guy not to tell the other man where I was. He stood up and showed a pen, “I just dropped my pen, but I have not seen a little girl come by.” “Well, if you do find her, please bring her to Francis’s office immediately, even if that means using your ability.” With that, the door slammed shut.

A silence filled the air afterwards until ‘Poe’ bent back down and broke the silence, “It’s ok, you can come out now, little one.” He gave me a small smile and reached out his hand to me. Hesitantly, I took it, slowly getting up allowing him to see my ripped dress and messed up hair. “You look terrible. What happened?” He guided me to a couch and I explained everything, getting teary when I started talking about my parents, er, former parents. He placed a hand on his chin and seemed to be thinking about something with the raccoon on his head. “What is your name?” “(Reader’s full name)” “They won’t stop hunting you down until you’re found and dead; however, if I take you in, I can convince Francis and the others to leave you alone.” I hesitated at this, on one hand, I’d be safe from everyone here and I’d have a new place to call home, but on the other hand, they might not accept me as his daughter and still have me killed. I placed my hand on his and smiled at him, “That sounds great. Oh, what’s your name by the way?” I asked this already having an idea thanks to the man from earlier, but his response confirmed it, “I am Edgar Allen Poe, but you may call me Poe. This is Karl, my friend.” Karl sat on my lap and started to fall asleep. I can already tell I’m going to like my new family.

#platonic poe bsd #platonic bsd #platonic bungo stray dogs #poe bsd #poe bungou stray dogs #edgar allen poe bsd #platonic poe x reader bsd #francis bsd #bsd steinbeck #john steinbeck bsd #louisa bsd #nathaniel hawthorne bsd #hawthorne bsd

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wellimaginethat · 5 years ago

Text

Danger Prone

Pairing: Jay Halstead x (female) Reader, Kelly Severide x BestFriend!Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 1909

Author’s Note: This was fun to write and that gif is perfect

Trigger Warning(s): Injury, needles, car accident

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Y/N and Kelly are best friends and have been practically since she started at 51, she’s been dating Jay for about a year and when she’s injured in a car accident, they’re both insanely worried about her.

Y/N = Your Name

Y/EC = Your Eye Color

You were joking around with the rest of your teammates, telling an embarrassing story in an attempt to make Gallo feel better over his recent mess up in his relationship.

“I can’t believe you’d ever screw up that bad.” Kelly told you, barely containing his laughter as he shook his head.

“It’s a completely true story.” You told him, laughing.

Gallo’s spirits seem to lift a tad. “I have to agree, you seem too calm and collected to ever mess up that bad.”

You shook your head. “I wasn’t always this totally cool badass with nerves of steel.” You told them with a proud smile, causing them both to snicker. “But it’s true. I thought he was going to say he loved me, instead he told me about how he was sleeping with my so called best friend.” You shook your head a bit before shrugging. “All for the best, really, cause now I’m happy.”

“So I take it that things between you and Halstead are going well?” Kelly asked you, picking up his mug to take a sip of the coffee.

You nodded, smiling proudly. “Things are going great between us.”

“Well I’m happy for you.” Kelly told you.

Gallo nodded. “I am too.” Although you could sense that he was a bit saddened.

“Hey,” You put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. “Listen to me, you are gonna find someone and they’re gonna love you and everything about you.” You told him in a soft voice. “It just takes time for some people. Look at Kelly, it took him this long to find a woman that could put up with his shit.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks Y/LN.”

You smiled at him. “Oh shut it, you know I love you.” You told him, laughing a bit before looking at Gallo again. “It will be okay. Sometimes things happen for a reason. Take it from me, if Jason hadn’t been such a dick then I never would’ve met Jay and I wouldn’t be as happy as I am.”

Gallo smiled at you and nodded. “Thank you.” He told you softly.

You nodded and patted his shoulder before removing your hand. “Anytime.” You told him, you kinda thought of him as a kid brother even though the two of you were close to being the same age.

You were nearing the end of your shift and you really couldn’t wait to get home, it had been a busy night and you wanted to shower and curl up on the couch.

When your shift finally ended, you headed outside to your car.

Kelly jogged up to you and bumped your shoulder. “If you and Halstead aren’t busy tonight, you should swing by and have dinner with Stella and I.”

You looked at him with a smile and nodded. “I don’t know what Jay has planned, or if he’ll even be free tonight, but I’ll mention something to him and let you know.”

Kelly nodded and headed over to his car.

You got into your car and started it before starting to drive, you were less than a block down when a car ran a stop and hit the side of your car.

It all happened so suddenly and then time started to slow down. You were trying to regain your senses after what happened, but it felt like you were moving in slow motion.

Kelly was at the passenger side now, pulling the door open and leaning in to check on you.

“Y/N, Y/N!” You could hear him shout, trying to get your attention but everything seemed so distorted and he sounded like he was miles away.

Then everything came back and you waved your hand to him. “I’m fine, I’m good.”

“That’s for a doctor to figure out.” Kelly responded.

Soon someone was putting a brace on your neck and they were pulling you out of your car, you didn’t really feel any pain, but you were still in a daze.

The ride to the hospital was spent with the paramedics checking you over, you were so thankful that it wasn’t Brett and Foster because you knew they would be making a complete fuss over you.

When you got to the hospital and were being wheeled in, you were having trouble focusing on anything, but you could recognize the voices.

“What do we got?” You knew that voice, it was Will. Great, that meant that Jay would find out about this and probably worry about you.

“Female, 28, car accident.” The paramedic rattled off. “Sustained a head injury and extensive bruising from the air bag and seat belt.”

“We’ll move her on my count.” They moved you over to a hospital gurney and soon you could see Will leaning over you, checking your eyes with a penlight to make sure your pupils were dilating. “Let’s get her in for a CT scan.”

You were wheeled in for a CT scan and then taken to a room in the ED to be further checked over and to have your head bandaged up better.

Kelly stepped into the room as soon as he was able to, which was while they were bandaging your head. “How’re you doing?” He asked gently.

You gave him a thumbs up. “I’m good.” You assured him. “My head hurts a little, but I’m fine.”

Kelly nodded and took a seat in the chair near the wall to stay out of the way.

“We’re going to need to take some blood to run some labs.” April told you, moving to your arm to insert the needle.

You tried not to pay attention to the needle as she drew blood and focused solely on Kelly. “So what are you planning for dinner?”

“Hm?” Kelly looked at you.

“Earlier you were talking about Jay and I joining you and Stella for dinner, what are you planning?”

Kelly shrugged. “No idea.”

You laughed. “You plan a dinner party and don’t know what you’re going to serve? How am I supposed to bring wine if I don’t know what the menu is?”

Kelly snorted. “Like you’d bring wine.”

You laughed. “That’s true, wine is disgusting.” You shrugged. “Okay, then how will I know what kind of beer to bring?”

“Any kind of beer is good beer.” Kelly told you.

“Touche.” You replied as April finished collecting your blood, and that was when you saw Jay walking in.

“Will called me and said you were in an accident, are you okay?” Jay asked, immediately walking over to where you were sitting. His hands going to your upper arms to steady you as he looked at you, worried.

“Jay, I’m fine.” You told him.

“That bandage says otherwise.” Jay told you, his eyes narrowing in on the bandage.

You reached up to cup his face, causing his eyes to meet yours. “I’m okay.” You said softly.

Jay stared at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

You smiled at him. “So Kelly invited us over to have dinner with him and Stella tonight, what do you think?” You asked, glancing over at Kelly as you spoke before looking back at your boyfriend.

Jay turned to glance at Kelly before nodding and looking at you. “Sounds like a good idea, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You nodded. “Again, I’m fine.” You smiled, you were glad he cared enough to be worried, but it seemed like a bit much.

Jay nodded.

Kelly stood up. “Alright, then we’ll see you guys tonight?”

You nodded to him. “Yep, we’ll be there.”

“Good.” Kelly walked over and patted your arm. “Take care of yourself.” He looks at Jay. “Keep an eye on her, she’s danger prone.”

Jay chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I know she is.”

Kelly chuckled and patted Jay on the chest before leaving.

You smiled. “I’m glad you guys get along and all, but it’s not nice to gang up on me.”

Jay looked at you with a smile. “Well it’s not nice to scare us.” He commented, leaning down to kiss you gently. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You smiled up at him and nodded. “I wanna go home.”

“Have they released you yet?” Jay asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Then you have to wait.” Jay told you simply.

You pouted. “Can’t you help me escape?”

Jay laughed and shook his head. “You wouldn’t help me when I got shot.” He retorted softly.

“That was different.” You pointed out. “You almost died.”

Jay waved it off, causing you to chuckle and him to smile. He was looking out the door now, waiting for someone to come in with any information. His arm was gently draped over your shoulders now.

You leaned your head onto his chest, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

“So what exactly happened?” Jay asked gently after a moment.

You sighed. “Some lady ran a stop and t-boned me.” You huffed. “Totally wrecked my car.”

You could feel his chest rumble when he chuckled, shaking his head. “You and your damned car.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault, I love that car.” You pouted. “And now she’s ruined.”

“You know, I’ve met guys less in love with their cars than you are with yours.” Jay commented.

You rolled your eyes. “I worked my ass off and saved every little bit of money I could for that car.”

“I know.” Jay told you softly. “And I’m sorry it got wrecked.”

“Me too.” You huffed then looked up at him. “Guess it’s time for me to find a new car.”

Jay nodded. “Maybe something a little safer.”

“My car was safe.”

“It was old and falling apart.” Jay countered.

“It was a classic.” You argued softly, poking his chest.

Jay chuckled again and shook his head. “Okay okay. Time to find a new classic.”

You sighed and nodded. “I guess so.”

Will walked in after a moment. “Good news is that you only sustained minor injuries.” He told you. “You do have a slight concussion, so you’ll have to take it easy.”

“Can I go home now?” You asked eagerly.

Will paused and tried to stifle a laugh but nodded. “Yes, you can. They’ll be in with the paperwork soon.”

“Great, thank you.” You beamed and looked at Jay. “See, I’m fine and I can go home.” You stood up.

Will shook his head some and stepped out of the room.

Jay followed him. “Hey, thanks for calling me.” He told his brother.

Will turned to him and nodded. “No problem, I figured you’d wanna know.”

Jay nodded silently.

Will raised a brow. “You okay?”

Jay hesitated and nodded some. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Will asked, knowing something was up. “She’s fine, Jay. Really, I wouldn’t let her go home if she wasn’t.”

“I know.” Jay told him, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Then what’s wrong?” Will asked, frowning slightly.

Jay sighed. “Nothing.”

“It’s obviously something.” Will told him.

Jay sighed again and nodded.

As soon as you finished the paperwork that you had to sign, you stepped out of the room and saw that Jay was talking to Will, his back to you.

Will nodded in your direction, causing Jay to turn to face you. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Jay told his brother before walking over to you. “You free to go?”

You nodded to him, smiling. “Mhm.”

Jay wrapped an arm around your shoulders and left the hospital with you.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines

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darylandbethfanforever9 · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 7

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings: Smut, violence, past flashbacks of sexual assault, and descriptions of torture. Racial hate, and forced abortion. Not Tony Stark friendly.

Relationships: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, past Clint/Laura, and Sam/Sharon. Eventual Clint/Yelena, and rank/Karen.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a young woman, he starts to realize that maybe his past isn’t too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14.

Natasha wanted things to go back to how they were with Steve before the Accords and before her miscarriage. There was a part of her that felt like she was betraying Alexei, Melina, and Yelena by loving Steve, but the other side wanted to retire from the spy life. Wanted to retire from everything. She was tired of the jobs, of keeping secrets from the people she considered family. She didn't even hate Bucky or resent him anymore, unlike Alexei, Yelena, and Melina. She just wanted Steve and the rest of this to go away. She wanted life to feel remotely normal again. She didn't want to lie anymore to any of them. Everyone had been lied too so much. She was only added onto the drama. Natasha ran herself a bath, pouring in her jasmine scented bubble bath, mixing it with the water. She sighed tiredly, trying to settle into the water, when she felt her phone vibrate. As she looked at it, she saw it was a text message from Melina. 'I need to talk to you, Alexei and Yelena tomorrow in Zagreb, Croatia urgently. It's about her!' The text message said cryptically. Natasha felt a sense of dread wash over her at the text. 'I'll need to make an excuse to Steve, Tony, and the others first,' she texted quickly. Melina replied four minutes later. 'We are your family, Natalia, not them!' Melina had messaged back furiously. Natasha closed her in frustration, breaking down in tears at her dilemma.

"Whoever hired that team to assassinate the mystery girl really wants her dead. Tell Barnes and Carter to get a blood sample from her so we can test it for DNA. Maybe she's in the international database," Fury recommended sternly. Everyone nodded but Tony shook his head. "We need to send someone else to watch over Barnes, Fury. I personally believe that he's compromised. His judgement is skewed because he's convinced that this girl might be the dead girl from the files. Who knows what he might have done with her if she was in the Red Room," Tony insisted harshly, causing most of the people to look at him in disapproval. "We can't send Belova or Romanoff? They've been sent on a mission in Zagreb, Croatia to track down a few remaining Flag Smashers. Who else can we send?" Grant asked quietly, his face bruised from his fight with a Flag Smasher during a mission in London, Great Britain. "Send in Steve. He's become really good at working undercover and Bucky trusts him," Sam suggested diplomatically. It couldn't be him, seeing as the Smiling Tiger was in Madripoor. Ross had an expression of disdain, while Tony was cold but grudgingly agreed to the arrangement. "Try not to mess up, Capsicle," Tony said coldly, before walking out of the conference room. Steve sighs a bit before nodding. "I can do that. I'm sure Bucky hasn't gotten super far. I could help him out together."

Morgan Stark was determined to make her daddy happy. He'd been sad ever since Captain America's best friend, Bucky Barnes, had been pardoned by the government and found not guilty at his trial. Her dad had gone into a rage, shouting that Barnes was a monster and anyone on Steve's side was to blame for Thanos winning. So she was going to somehow make him smile again. She was going to build an AI, like he did. She already had a name picked out for him as well. Her dad had explained to her that he had created Ultron to protect the world. Maybe she could do that again, and somehow bring him back to make not only her daddy happy but the world happy. All she knew was that she was tired of hearing him fighting all the time with the Avengers and she wanted to somehow change that. Maybe a new Ultron could do that? She had found his memory core not that long ago. Maybe if she followed his blueprints from years ago…she could, do it? She didn't want any more arguing or yelling…all she wanted was for this to end. So that was that. She was going to do it. One way or another. Daddy had a lab always near him. It would be the perfect time to do it. Maybe they could finally figure out how to end all the fighting. Maybe she'll be the cause of it. Daddy would be happy. They would see they were wrong about him. Somehow.

When Steve had arrived in Madripoor, it looked the same as it always had from before, with bright lights and big neon signs drawing in anyone from a mile away. However, his eyes were more focused on trying to get to Bucky's place. He had talked with Sharon about where to go and she had directed him willingly, leading him towards midtown where a lot of the higher ups in the crime world lived. It was also where the mystery woman lived, apparently. Hopefully they would be able to get through to this quickly. He had knocked on the door, and for a moment there was silence. He had been expecting that, considering Bucky was most certainly not expecting anyone to come by and greet him. But he slowly opened the door, and when he saw it was Steve his eyes widened.

"Where the hell did you come from?" He asks as he lets him in, giving him an embrace. When Steve stepped back, he closes the door behind him, turning to Bucky. "Lot has happened at the base while you were gone," Steve states with a raised brow. "I'm not longer in charge of the Avengers. Ross gave it to Tony." Bucky's brow raises. "You're serious?" "He did. They were upset about our choice in operation of sending you here." Bucky lets out a long sigh, going to sit on the couch at that. "We defended you the best we could, but at the end of the day, they had the last call. Sam suggested I come over here to fill out their needs." Bucky's brow raises once more. "Which are?" "Keep an eye on you." Bucky feels himself groan before standing. "How the hell am I ever going to be an Avenger in their eyes?" He asks, his voice rising a bit in anger. "Everything I do now, even after all the amends and everything I've done, it'll never work…all I want is to prove myself. I know I'm a piece of shit but…I'm fucking trying." "I know you are, Buck," Steve says gently, letting his hands rest on the man's shoulders. "I know you are. And trust me, we all see it. There are some that are just stuck in their ways that I don't believe are going to change soon. Those are the ones that, when they do inevitably open their eyes, they'll see the most change in you." Bucky snorts a bit. "That one of your little political speeches?" he asks. "No," Steve answers, shaking his head. "Trust me, I highly doubt I'm going to be doing much more than you are here. If anything, while I know how to stay undercover, if I get recognized here, it's game over." He gestures to you. "At least with you, not a lot of people know your face. Even this girl doesn't." He glances over at Bucky's hands and notices there seemed to be dried blood on it. "Speaking of that…" Bucky glances down at his hand and feels his cheeks turn red. "It's not on me, I swear – Maria wanted to interrogate the men that came, and she ended up killing them. Turns out they were sent by a woman named Melina Vostokoff. She wants to end the woman for some reason." "Well, we knew about the attack but your…hands?" Bucky sighs a bit. "I went over to help her a couple of days ago after she was attacked. Try and get more info on her. I guess I just didn't clean off all the blood afterwards." He looks up at Steve and shakes his head. "She is a mystery woman…definitely likes to keep her identity a secret." Steve nods before going to sit down next to him. "I want to ask you a question, and just respond the best you can." Bucky nods. "Are you sure that you don't know her from back then?" Bucky sighs, swallowing a bit. "I…feel like I do." He glances back at Steve. "If you saw the way she moves, and what she had – I mean, she's like a carbon copy of Nat but she's ruthless. She even had some of the same weapons. She had to be trained in Red Room…but I can't recall her for the life of me. That's why I'm trying so hard to figure out if she's truly Ana or not. Maria seems like a reasonable name but…don't know." Steve nods quietly. "Didn't you and Nat have a thing back when you were there?" Bucky quietly nods. He didn't like to think about it often. There was so much pain involved in everything there. "Do you think you might have known this girl like that?" "I genuinely can't remember," Bucky answers honestly, glancing at him. "At this point, all I'm looking for is for some way to figure out if she's truly who she says she is. Maybe after I can search more." Steve sighs but nods. "We got a lot of work ahead of us, then."

Natasha had waited patiently, her arms crossed against her chest with Yelena. It seemed it would take hours for Melina and Alexei to arrive, but when they did, it felt like ages. "You two are worse on time than I am, and that's say something," Yelena mutters. "Quiet, you two," Melina states, looking between them. "We have a serious problem, and I believe you two know what it is."

Natasha and Yelena exchange an uneasy glance, as they look at Alexei who thankfully didn't know what was going on. If he found out Melina had been lying to him for all these years then things would get bloody. "Why did you call me here, Melina?" Alexei asked suspiciously. He hadn't aged well, and it was clearly showing. Despite having the Super-Soldier, it was a far weaker version than the one Bucky and Steve had running through their veins. The woman ignored him as she drank from her glass of red wine, her eyes cold and emotionless. Sometimes Natasha wondered if the woman did genuinely care about her and Yelena, like Alexei did, or if she was just using them. "I believe that despite our best efforts to purge the Red Room, it still exists. Over in Madripoor, a young woman killed the Power Broker, before taking over the city. She's killed several people who tried to break the new rules she implemented as some shot way of a moral code. I refused to acknowledge the bitch, and I tried to kill her…but she defeated me," she said sourly, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "What did you do, Melina?" Natasha asked warningly, praying that the woman hadn't compromised Bucky. If she had, then Steve would go ballistic and raise hell if Bucky were hurt. Not to mention the others. Her surrogate mother regarded her with a cold expression that would have terrified anyone else. But she wasn't frightened of her anymore, not after seeing what she was afraid of. "I hired a death squadron to kill the little whore. She won't survive against them," Melina said confidently, causing Natasha to stare at the woman in shock, before her gaze breaks. Fuck. She had enough and was about to leave, when Melina grabbed her right wrist in a tight grip. "Remember where your true loyalties are, Natasha. I don't want you to end up like her…who chose HIM over us," Melina said meaningfully, her grip tight. Natasha nodded coldly, ripping her arm away and started walking back to her car, refusing to be intimidated. 'What have I done, god?' She thought bitterly, climbing into her car, and turning on the heating.

Ana had cleaned up her apartment after she disposed of the bodies. She had dumped Diego's body in Low Town, knowing that someone would post it on the internet. The other three remaining bodies had been dealt with. She hated the Red Room and what they had done to her. but at the very least the teachers knew how to teach all of them in how to dispose of a corpse after killing the individual. She used a luminal torch to see if any bloodstains remained, relieved when she didn't see any. Despite being near people, she desperately wanted a few furry companions. She needed something to keep her company, other than the people she would meet. She wasn't naïve. Ana knew that they would be targets but she wouldn't let anyone hurt them. She was going to ask X-Con Security Consultants if they would be willing to install security at her house. She decided to take a shower and rest up for the night. She wasn't taking any chances now, considering that Melina had tried to kill her twice now. The older woman still thought she was the same, useless, naive, and helpless little girl all those years ago. She sighed heavily as she trudged upstairs, taking off her bloody, filthy clothes and threw them on the floor. There was no salvaging them. She'd burn the clothes tomorrow. She stepped into the en suite bathroom, turning on the hot water, as she looked at herself in the full body mirror. Scars decorated her body, mainly on her chest, her right arm and some were on her back, and left leg.

Bullet wounds, knife wounds and there was a faded scar on her stomach. She touched it hesitantly, feeling a strange sense of heartache and loss for no apparent reason.

Bucky had gone into the Brass Monkey club, taking Steve with him as they saw Sharon was there. She gestured for them to join her, as they went to a table at the back, where they wouldn't be disturbed. "So, I did some asking around and apparently the woman calling herself Maria Kapitonova is using another woman's name. This is the real Maria Kapitonova. And she's been dead for the last six years, Bucky and Steve." Sharon explained grimly, showing them a photo of a young woman with red hair, brown eyes, and a scar on her throat. Bucky had known that the woman was using a false identity, but this just proved it. Deep down, he knew that she closely resembled Anastasia. Maybe they were related? "So, she's using the identity of a dead woman whose been dead for the last six years. What else have you got, Sharon?" Steve asked intrigued. They were finally getting a fresh lead. "Yeah, I was hoping you'd ask me that question. I did some digging, and Fury emailed me these files that he and Hill found at an abandoned HYDRA base in Voronezh, Voronezh Oblast. Turns out, HYDRA and the Red Room were both working closely together on a project," she said meaningfully. "Something we should talk about elsewhere." Bucky and Steve got her point and left with her to go to her house, leaving behind the bar. Once they arrived, Sharon continued from where she left off, and handed them copies of the files, closing the door behind her. "The Red Room and HYDRA discovered that the girls at the Red Room who had the Super-Soldier serum were far more able to carry a child of the Winter Soldiers. There are lists of names who were chosen for the program. The project began in the 1990′s, and a lot of the pregnancies resulted in the women dying from complications due to the babies developing quicker than a normal baby," Sharon explained gravely as Bucky read the file. He recognized a few of the names, but felt his blood run cold when his eyes drifted to two familiar names. 'Red Guardian and Black Widow - viable pregnancy. Scans confirm that Vostokoff is carrying twin daughters. No complications detected so far into the pregnancy. Vostokoff has confirmed that she has suffered no cramping, or any sign of miscarriage.' "Holy shit, Steve. What if Alexei and Melina were the parents of Anastasia and her twin sister?" He asked quietly. Steve's expression was of grimness and concern. "That's more than likely, but Natasha never mentioned that Alexei and Melina had kids," Steve said hesitantly. Bucky knew the man didn't want to think Natasha had lied to him again. "There's more. On the second page, according to Dr Lyudmila Kudrin, only three women survived carrying the pregnancies to full term. Vostokoff ended up giving birth on June 18, 1995. It says here that she delivered two twin girls," Sharon said wearily, causing Bucky to frown. Bucky read more of the file, feeling his stomach roll in disgust, seeing that the project had been a partial success. They had put the project on hold in order to try and create more of the Super-Soldier Serum. He felt a cold sensation run down his spine, as he thought of Ana then. Maybe she was Alexei and Melina's daughter…possibly.

When the rest of the team had heard back later on what Sharon had discovered regarding the mystery woman, that had sent them on a trip to try and figure out who exactly her family was. Having Sharon reveal that there was actually a twin sister to the girl was an amazing lead. So, one of the Avengers took it into her own hands once she heard that – namely, Wanda. She knew what it was like to lose a twin, and if the young woman that they were looking after really did lose one, there was most likely a hole there that would never be filled. The least she could do is find out if they were right.

After that, they had searched all over the internet, from typical shit to the dark web, trying to see if they could find some sort of league to get them in the right direction. And soon, it wasn't long before they discovered something. The last name Liukin was associated with a Russian cemetery. Instantly, Wanda had assembled the team to fly to where it was, Fury agreeing to it nonetheless considering that it was for a mission. Thankfully the quinjet was quick enough to get them there a little faster than the normal airtime. Even so, arriving had Wanda shaking to see if this was real. They had showed up to the cemetery, stepping in and searching for her name. And it wasn't long before they did find it. Wanda had stood in front of it for a moment, feeling Clint let a hand rest against her shoulder. 'Angelina Aleksandrovna Liukin.' This was it. This was the twin. They were right. They had looked all over to see if there was even a possibility of another Liukin, but funnily, there were none under the names they were looking for. It was mainly strong Russian names that had been attached to it. "I can't believe it," she whispers, looking down at the grave, kneeling down. "There's a lot more to this woman than we realize…she was buried so deep." Clint sighs softly before nodding. "Sometimes that's the case with these things, but…this is good in a way." Wanda looks up to him. "Now that we know for sure that she exists, we have a DNA match-up. She is most likely in the International Data Base if she was dead. We were able to find her originally. If we can somehow get a blood sample from Maria, we can see if she's really Ana or not." Wanda stands, pulling her jacket around her tightly. It was still freezing cold here. "Don't you think that's a bit…sketchy? I mean both Steve and Bucky are there. I don't know how they're going to just get a blood sample off of her." "I'm sure they can figure it out," Clint assures. "We have two of the best super-soldiers in the world. They're not that dumb." "They're also not that smart," Wanda mutters. "True," Clint chuckles before helping her stand. "Come on, let's take some pictures and get this to Fury."

As had been expected, they had gotten the proof to Fury as quickly as possible of the life of Angelina. And as they had expected, Fury had requested to Bucky not that long after to somehow get a blood sample from the mystery woman. To which both Bucky and Steve had sat down for hours, trying to figure out the best way to do so. Because who can just…do that? Eventually, though, they had settled on something that might spurt up one. "How about you just take her out on a date?" Bucky's brow raises in response. "You're serious?" "Yeah, why not? I mean, there's a high probability that you'll most likely get attacked because she has so many bounty's out for her right now. It's the best option you have that's legal in our eyes." He shrugs a bit. "Or you can just attack her mysteriously." "No," Bucky instantly states. His quick response surprised Steve a bit. "I mean, I…I don't want to hurt her more than she's already been hurt. You can tell from a mile away that she has gone through some shit." "Okay…don't worry, we won't do that," Steve reassures him, rubbing his back. "But we still need to get that sample, one way or another…I believe you'll be able to do it" Bucky sighs a bit before glancing up at him. "I haven't been on a date since the 1940′s." Steve snickers. "I think you'll be fine."

After their conversation, it wasn't long before Bucky had asked Maria to come with him on a date, something he had surprisingly been quite nervous to do. Again, it had been so long since he had done something like this, but he knew that it was needed for what they were planning on doing. And she had agreed after a little bit, deciding that they would head out to a smaller restaurant in Madripoor, one that wouldn't attract so much attention. When he had come to pick her up at her apartment, he had waited downstairs for her to come. When she arrived, he felt his mouth drop slightly. You know, it was getting really damn hard to do this mission when the subject was so goddamn gorgeous.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes/oc #dark bucky barnes #steve rogers/natasha romanoff

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cosmic-has-moved · 4 years ago

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The Vamp N Wolf - Chapter 5

Link to the Ao3 version: HERE

It had only been a few minutes since the Mistress read and put away Hayden’s documents in a safe place, now all she needed to do was look for the maid mentioned in the files.

The rooms where the servants stay were at the other side of the castle in the basement, the room was reasonably big, with single beds against the wall starting from the room entrance to the bathroom. Bending down to enter the room, Alcina began examining the beds, most of her findings were only letters, snacks, books and personal toys.

Nearly giving up on the short investigation, she noticed a loose brick next to the bed on the right of the entrance. Removing said brick had confirmed her suspicions, a secret hole that had contained a syringe and a medium sized jar half-filled with what could definitely be her blood.

Grabbing the items and placing them on the bed, she examined the end of the bed. When a maid is hired, a small board with their name written is place at the end bed frame. There was a board there, but it was from the previous maid before she was used for food.

This could only mean that the maid in question was placed here during the draining process, quite sneaky of Mother Miranda.

Now the only thing the Mistress needed to do was find this maid, luckily for her it was easy. A scent of vanilla mixed with blood coming from the bathroom had been filling her nose, a scent she had made for the uniforms to help keep track of them for wolves and herself. Making her way to the bathroom and bending down, she peeked her head in before going in.

Glancing over at the shower stalls, she noticed a few strands of tied up hair in one of the stalls, bingo. Walking over to the stall and gripping the door, she tore the door open and stared down at the maiden.

The woman sat on the floor covering her mouth and trembling, it was clear that she as hiding from her. With a swift hand movement, Alcina held the maid up up the collar. The Mistress knew what all her maids looked like, this one not one of them.

“So I take it you’re the one Mother Miranda sent?” The tall Mistress asked, watching the terrified girl tremble in her grip.

Stammering out her words, the maid answered. “Ye-Yes, Madam.” She gasped in terror as her grasp she was held at got tight. “I-I was only doing what she told me to do, I swear!” She cried out loud before whimpering in silence.

Giving a slight knowing nod, Alcina dropped her. “Thought as much, but did she plan on picking you up or leave you here to stay?”

Looking down at the ground, not daring to look at the Mistress in the eyes. “She had promised to bring me back home when she next arrives here.”

A smirk formed on the pale lady’s face, “Well she was just here before, she must’ve forgotten about you.” She extended her claw and lifted the young girl’s chin, her face now filled with shock. “Or she lied to you. If that’s the case, I guess I’ll have to show you what I do to unwanted guest.”

Lifting her clawed hand up, she watched as the poor maid sat there too scared to move. “No hard feelings, sweetie.”

___

Nibbling on her thumb making sure to clean it of remaining blood, Alcina stood back as the servants took care of the body. Cassandra standing next to her, eyeing her shiny new necklace.

“Looks like Hayden finally finished it.”

Her ears perked up upon hearing that and she looked down at her daughter. “You knew about this?” She gently held the jewelry under her index finger.

Cassandra smiled and nodded. “I helped him with the flower design, he’s been stuck on it for a while because you liked a lot of flowers.” She turned her head away. “I only mentioned that it was that specific one you really loved.”

Huffing out a smile, she patted her child’s head. “I love it.”

“MOTHER!”

The two looked at the source of the distasteful screech. It was Daniela, holding up a torn up and slobber covered brown skirt. It was rather ugly.

“Look at what the mutt did to my skirt!” She shouted angrily.

…

“Let’s take that as a blessing, Daniela.” Alcina responded while holding back a giggle.

Too bad Cassandra could hold it back, she burst into laughter whilst pointing at her younger sister.

Even more angered by their reactions she growled. “This is serious!”

Calming down from her fit, the youngest replied back. “You’re right, it is. A wolf have better fashion sense than you.”

That’s when their Mother decided to let her fits of laughter out, to Daniela’s great dismay as she continued to whine.

___

It had been a few hours after the maid incident, it was easily and quickly dealt with thankfully enough.

After the clean up the daughters were called to the family room, Alcina sat on her chair and waited for them. They were quick to arrive, their expressions of worry visible.

Waiting for them to sit down on the couch, she spoke up. “I think it’s about time I tell you three what’s going on, this involves Mother Miranda and Hayden.” Getting out her cigarette holder that already had a stick in and lit it up.

The three were confused at first but still responded. Bela being the first one to. “Does it involves that conversation you had with her, about Hayden being given your blood?”

The Mistress took a puff of her smoke and exhaled. “Mother Miranda has been using Hayden for an experiment, he’s a full wolf but has my blood running through him.” Glancing at their shocked looks, she continued. “I don’t know how he’s surviving, but the thing is that she’s using him to make a vampire and wolf breed.”

Daniela butted in “But wasn’t the first experiment related to that a complete failure? Why is she doing it again?”

Alcina sighed “She wants to make an army that only obeys her, the mixed race part is most likely because she knows they’ll be more powerful. I’m against the idea for reasons, but I can’t stop it.” Taking another drag of her cigarette and blowing out the smoke. “But the main point here is that no matter what, Hayden shouldn’t be treated more than just a lab rat, he’s your brother and my son. Treat him with the same respect we give each other, understand?”

The three looked at each other, Cassandra and Bela nodding before Daniela hesitantly did so as well. “We understand, Mother.”

Putting her cigarette away and standing up off her chair, she walked over to her daughters and knelt down to hug them tight, kissing them on their foreheads. Them loudly protesting from the embarrassing motherly embrace. It would take some good scrubbing to get the lipstick off her foreheads.

___

A day had now passed and Mother Miranda had kept her words. Hayden had returned home, granted he did look drained but overall he was in one piece and that was all that mattered.

Hayden upon walking into the Dimitrescu castle was to rest in his room, Alcina had made sure he was comfy after what she assumed to be a rough night. She helped him to bed and let him fall asleep, Hayden immediately passed out upon his head hitting the pillow.

The Mistress left the room and closed the door, quietly wishing him to rest well. After that she made her way to her room, the castle needed a new servant.

It was around dinner time was when Hayden surfaced, the smell must’ve woken him up judging by the bed hair. Sadly enough for him Alcina told him to wash up before eating, which he hesitantly did.

___

The next day, it was also the day Alcina decided to let Hayden be the one to interview newcomers for work. She of course watched from afar making sure nothing went wrong, he had been doing a great job so far to the Mistress’s relief.

After the interview was done and Hayden sent them off, Alcina waited for him to come with the results. Watching him come inside and to the balcony she was on.

“So.” Alcina poured her son a glass of wine and gestured him to sit next to her. “Anyone of interest?”

Complying with her and sitting down, Hayden gave her the resumes he had picked out. “A lot of boring ones that don’t have experience, but I did find three of interest.” Picking up his drink he continued. “Claire Velvetine, Sarah Jinkins and Velma Dalph.”

Looking over at the files and pondered on who to choose, they only needed one maiden, but it was tempting to hire these. “Oh I hate these decision making moments.” Cupping her chin and huffing in slight frustration. “I suppose I’ll go with Claire Velvetine, she seems to know what she’s doing.”

Hayden agreed while sipping his drink before placing the cup down. “Figured you will, you always go for the young lookin’ ones.” He said before chuckling. Well he wasn’t wrong.

“As long as they’re legal, everything will be fine.” Alcina said before taking a sip of her drink. “That does remind me. Before moving here, do you remember your previous area of living?” Putting her glass down, the Mistress stared at him and noticed a slight change to his expression.

Hayden blinked a few times and furrowed his brows before averting his eyes away from hers, nibbling on his bottom in thought. “It’s a bit fuzzy, but I do remember being in a stone room, different from yours.” He looked up at her and tilted his head “And after that I woke up in front of you. That’s all I can remember.”

Tilting her head and cupping her chin, the Mistress began thinking “If that’s all you remember, than I won’t have to worry about questioning you.” Getting up off her chair and grabbing her cup, she continued “I may have to ask her myself.” and with that, she walked inside.

Hayden sat there visibly confused, “Question me on what?”

___

A few days have passed by now and life has been normal so far. The new maiden that had been hired has been a wonderful job and been handling the daughters without breaking a sweat, she’s definitely a keeper.

Nothing of interest has happened, besides Hayden growing more and more interested in the new Maiden. He should know by now that the Mistress is always the first one to taste the servants, but werewolves are always kinda possessive. Alcina might have competition.

___

24th of March 2019, a whole year had passed now. Alcina sat at her desk going through book on animal anatomy, she was invested in it until she heard a knock at the door.

Closing the door she called to the person to come in, it was Hayden. “What is it, Hayden?”

Walking over to her and sitting on her bed, he got out a piece of folded paper. “I did some more patrolling and noticed a few more empty underground huts, so I copied the map of the castle and drew where each hut was located.” He unfolded the paper and gave it to her.

Looking at the sketchy mess of the map, Alcina examined where he drew the huts. They were surrounding the village and castle. Letting out a huff she gave the map back to him and crossed her arms. “Sneaky bastards, I’ll have to send someone down to investigate.” Standing up off her bed, Hayden replied “I’ll investigate them, I have a good sense of the area.” He gave her a smirk “And I found them myself, so I at least gotta search them.”

Mirroring his smirk, the Mistress tilted her head. “Alright, but take one of your sisters, it’s always a good idea to have a back up.”

Nodding in understanding, he left the room. Getting up off her chair and standing at the window, Alcina sighed. “If they managed to get six huts around my castle without getting caught, I’m gonna have to prepare the kids for a break in.”

___

Now was finally the time for Alcina to do something she’s been putting off for way too long. Paperwork.

She sat there signing the paperwork, bored out of her brain. Drinking her wine and rubbing the bridge of her nose, “Why must I do this to myself?” She asked herself before finishing her red liquid goodness. The good news is that she only had sixty pieces of paper to sign, that was her only light of hope.

Gulping down her wine, she went back to work. Until there was a knock at the door, sighing at the sudden interruption. She called the person in and was happy to see that it was Claire Velvetine, her wonderful work had given the tall Mistress a bit of relief and respect towards her.

Bowing to her and going to work cleaning the office, the brunette began humming. The Maiden would hum around the Mistress after knowing that it kept her calm, Alcina enjoyed it. Calmly she continued working.

After she was done writing and putting her quill away, Alcina looked over at Claire who was cleaning bookshelf behind her. Sitting back and closing her eyes, she let the hum invade her ears.

Suddenly the humming stopped and Alcina opened her eyes to see why she stopped, the maiden had finished cleaning and was putting the last book she had dusted back in. “I am done, my lady.” Claire bowed “I’ll now be going to clean the family room.”

Seeing a chance knowing that Hayden wasn’t around and her daughters being busy, The Mistress shoot her shot. “Thank you, but may I ask where you managed to hum like that?” Resting her chin on her palm and crossing her legs in her chair, she smirked. “A lot of the servants here hum as well, but yours seem to catch my interest.”

The maiden smiled in response, “Why thank you, my lady. I started practicing when I was quite young, my little brother would often have night terrors and being in the same room with him, I would sing to him.”

Arching her brow in interest, Alcina asked. “Such responsibility for a child.” She stood up off her chair and walked closer to her, kneeling down to the young woman’s eye level and grasping her chin. The maiden blinked at her but still remained calm. “Why not come to my bed chambers tonight and give me a show?” Her ears perked upon the woman’s brown eyes glancing at her crimson lips.

Claire looked back up at her slightly wide eyed and became flustered, but she still responded. “Why I would like to, Mistress.” She gently removed Alcina’s hand from her face and smirked. “I am afraid that I prefer being taken to dinner first.” Turning around and opening the door, the maiden left.

The Mistress bit her bottom lip and covered her mouth, she had struck something she hadn’t struck before in a long time. “Oh I am definitely keeping you, Claire,” She playfully purred to herself, she would’ve been mad at the reject, but she can’t blame a lady for wanting dinner first.

Standing up straight and clearing her throat, Alcina walked out of her office and towards her room. “While I’m free I better go check that book.” She went to grab her door handle

and stopped getting a sudden wave of worry, a feeling that she couldn’t shake.

___

Instinctively she walked inside her room and looked out her window, in the far distance there was a trail of smoke coming from the tress. Right where one of the secret huts were.

Grabbing her coat and getting the other girls, Alcina ran to the location of the smoke. Praying that her children weren’t harmed. Bela and Cassandra followed behind her, both just as worried.

Running close to the location Alcina saw Hayden in his werewolf form on top of Daniela, he was covering her body from the sunlight while dragging himself up to the shade, collapsing upon getting his top half away from the sun. As the three got close and pulled them into the shade, Alcina saw pieces of shrapnel and debris into Hayden’s back as he slowly transformed back to normal, his torn clothes failing to cover his nude body.

Getting him off of Daniela and laying him down on his chest, she got a good of the damage. From the distance was an explosion hole, there must’ve been a bomb in there. Daniela was knocked out with a bloody broken nose and her left leg burnt from not being covered quick enough, overall she was still in one piece. Bela wrapped her sisters leg with a cloth and got Cassandra’s help to carry her.

Hayden’s back area was horribly burnt, Alcina gently pulled the broken pieces out of his back before picking him up with her coat but made sure not to touch his back. The Mistress looked at her injured kids and bit her bottom lip in guilt, they were fine but they’re still hurt.

After checking for more wounds, Alcina, Bela and Cassandra carried the two back to the castle. The servants were quick to get the tools needed to help them and ready their beds.

___

Daniela laid in her bed still unconscious, her leg bandaged up and resting on top of a cushion. Her mother sitting next to her bed holding a small cup of blood, sprinkling a few herbs in it before stirring it with her finger.

Her and Hayden have been asleep for about a day now, Alcina hadn’t been able to sleep yet and has been doing nothing but look over the two. Tapping her finger on the edge of the glass to get the liquid off, she perked up seeing Daniela stir awake.

“Dani?”

Cracking her eyes open and looking at her mother, Daniela sat up whilst groaning in discomfort. “Mother?” She mumbled before resting her head against the bed frame.

Smiling in relief at her daughter finally being conscious, she swiftly placed the cup on her bedside table and hugged her tight. “I am so glad you’re alright, Dani.” She said to her child as she planted kisses on her cheek.

Not having enough energy to fight back, Daniela accepted the hug before grabbing the cup of blood. “Ohhh blood drink.” She took a sip and immediately yelped in disgust. “Oh god it’s medicine blood!”

Chuckling as Alcina let go and she patted her shoulder, she thought Daniela would’ve gotten use to the blood medicine by now, but she guessed she thought wrong. She gave Daniela sometime to fully awake before asking what happened.

After finishing the drink and grimacing from the taste, Daniela suddenly darted her head to her mother, a look of concern on her face. “Wh-Where’s Hayden?” She went to get off the bed but flinched to a stop upon her leg throbbing in pain. “Ah fuck!”

Quickly putting her daughter back in the resting position, she did wonder why Daniela had grown concerned for him knowing that the two don’t get along, She smirked at the thought that her feral like daughter had finally started to like Hayden. “He’s in his room recovering.” A serious look now formed on the tall Mistress’s face. “Daniela, what happened?”

___

Dragging her feet on the snow covered ground, the redhead groaned in annoyance. “Why did I agree to this again?” She stared at Hayden who was just looking around cautiously. “What are we even doing again?”

The young man sighed, “I told you just five minutes ago that we’re going to investigate one of the underground areas.” He stopped near a weirdly shaped pile of snow and kneeled down. “You don’t have to help, just sit back while I do the work. I’m only bringing you because Mother said so.” Digging his hand through the pile and tugging on something, opening a steel door leading to an underground room.

This suddenly peaked the woman’s interest as she was the first one to enter it, to Hayden’s protest of course. “Heck yeah! A secret room!” Examining the room eagerly, she huffed disappointingly upon realizing that it was practically a modern office with a fridge, bathroom and a bed. “Oh come one!” She exclaimed loudly. “At least have a naughty magazine damn it!”

Closing the entrance after walking in and going over to her, Hayden began looking around. “I did warn you that it’ll be boring.” Walking up to the old fashioned computer and pressing a few buttons, he gestured to the bulky device. “Here, I put a game on for you. Play while I look.”

Already on the chair in front of the computer, she eagerly played whatever game he had put on for her. “Heck yeah! Prepare to die, zombies.” She cackled loudly as her baby brother looked around the small bunker. The quietness being broken by the electronic sound effects from the computer.

Hayden chuckled “Never took you for a video game person.” He asked before tearing the bed.

“When I get the chance I play, Mother isn’t a fan of modern technology and doesn’t allow things like game consoles in our home.” Daniela groaned in annoyance after getting killed in game. “Some of our victims have such devices and we play with them a bit before Mother destroys them. She can be very lame sometimes.”

Opening the fridge door and riffling through it, secretly nibbling on the edible snacks in there. “Wow that’s sad, maybe we should try to convince her.” Hayden closed the door and walked over the desk, going through the drawers. “And if that fails, I’m good at finding hidden places.”

Daniela giggled “Oh I would love to see you try to do that, she has a thing for knowing all of her castle’s room.”

“Still worth a shot.” Hayden went back to the bed and lifted it up.

Rolling her eyes, the woman replied. “Okay than.” She smiled.

It only took about an hour for Daniela to get bored of the game and groaned loudly, “Uuuuuuugh! This is boring.” Leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling, she noticed the vents and began thinking. “You think they’ll hide stuff in vents?”

Putting down the bed and dusting himself, Hayden walked over to her. “I mean I guess so.” He looked up at where she was staring and crossed his arms, the vent door was too small for him to fit in and he knew that. “You need a lift?”

Sliding off the chair and standing up, she gestured him to come closer. “Yeah, give me a lift.” She let Hayden come close to her and hop onto his shoulders, gently lifting the crate up she looked inside.

The first thing Daniela saw upon peaking her head was a small device with a beeping red light on it, “Hay-” Before she could finish herself, she got tugged down close to Hayden’s chest before hearing an ear piercing explosion.

When she opened her eyes all she could see was fur, ashy blonde fur. Her body felt tight from being squeezed closed and her left leg stinging like hell just like her nose, she could only smell her own blood.

She felt herself getting dragged, hearing a croaky distorted voice quietly calling her name. She could’ve sworn it sounded like Hayden, she couldn’t be fully sure as she lost consciousness again.

___

Daniela finished retelling what she could remember to her mother and sisters. “And I guess that’s it.” She said before eating a small piece of meat, her face frowning a bit. It wasn’t fully clear, but Alcina felt as if Daniela could’ve felt guilty about Hayden being harmed from protecting her. She didn’t need to express this as her other daughters teased her about it.

“So Hayden’s finally growing on you.” Cassandra asked with a grin before getting a pillow thrown in the face as a response.

“Well now she has too because he nearly got his whole back destroyed.” Bela added before getting a soft punch in the chest by Daniela.

“Calm down, girls.” Alcina added before speaking more. “So from what we know now, these huts have emergency bombs in them. I just hope they don’t send signals out, that’ll just be icing to the annoying cake.”

Laying down on her bed and stretching, Daniela scratched her stomach. “Eh, if they come we’ll just eat them.”

Alcina got up off the seat and sighed “Well the main thing right now is that you’re okay.” She walked over to the door. “Now rest up, I’ll go check up on Hayden.” She said before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving the three alone.

___

Standing at the doorway of Hayden’s bedroom, Alcina watched as two of the maidens tended to Hayden’s wounds. Removing old bandages and applying the needed medicine before wrapping him back up, she was thankful that the maidens were gentle.

After they were done and packed up, one maiden left while the other, Claire, stayed. The brunette moved the young man’s head up to remove the pillow and fluffed it up before putting it back under his head. She even made sure he was in a breathable position giving that he was resting on his front, the Mistress appreciated it deeply.

Turning to the Mistress and bowing, Claire went to walk out of the room but stopped to say something. “His breathing is at a normal pace and I’ve noticed his eyelids moving a bit, He’ll most likely wake up later today.”

Alcina smiled at Claire as she left, it was now only her and Hayden. Closing the door and grabbing a chair, she sat next to the sleeping man and watched his back move from his steady breathing.

“You’ve saved one of my daughters and are left unconscious in bed again, Hayden.” She let out a soft chuckle. “It better not be a pattern, patterns like this never end good.” Stroking his hair, the Mistress began humming softly.

She continued humming for a while before slowly coming to a stop, leaning in close to his face moving his fringe out of the way, she planted her lips on his forehead. “Rest well, sweetie.” The Mistress stood up off the chair and left the room, making sure to close the door for his privacy.

#The Vamp n Wolf #Cosmic FanFic #resident evil fanfic #Resident evil village fanfic #re village #resident evil village #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Hayden #Hayden Dimitrescu #fanfiction #fanfic #The Vamp n Wolf Story

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light-of-judgment · 4 years ago

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Zombie AU starter for @oflockhearted

Under the cut because #longlongpost

The fall from grace that accompanied the God of Magic’s defeat at the hands of the Returners was likely sweet relief for the world at large, but it was also relief for the fallen God himself. Defeat meant death and death meant rest. He fell. His tower fell. He was buried underneath the monument to nothingness that had been the symbol of his rage-filled existence and the world was able to breathe.

Residents from the town of Thamasa (descendants of the Magi, who’d built the town 1000 years prior to escape persecution for their magical abilities) partook in a ceremony to seal the tomb of the God, drawing defensive glyphs and performing rites to ensure that he would never awaken again in fear that Kefka truly had become an immortal Divine. Kefka’s defeat signified the disappearance of magic from this world, though the Magi weren’t going to take chances with it. The rest of the people, however, were able to sleep much easier at night knowing he was gone.

The disappearance of magic may have seemed a good sign to many, especially those that liked to recount the War of the Magic and feared the potential for history to repeat itself. They were loud in their declarations after Kefka’s defeat, as though the existence of a Mad God outweighed the proven good that magic had brought to society. Conveniently, they never spoke of how Kefka had obtained the power in the first place. No one ever did. And overtime, he became a reference parents made to frighten their children or a name uttered to make a scary story that much more threatening. Over generations, he was forgotten, as was the need for magic at all.

What the disappearance of magic actually meant was that he was healing. All of the magic left in the world concentrated into him and slowly, for the world had been leeched dry in his destruction, grew over time while he rested.

Time passed, as it always does, and the world had healed again. The lands were fertile, the water was pure, the people were happy. Magic flourished, though by now the Magi were long gone and had long since stopped bestowing knowledge about their practices to their family. Why would they when there was no magic? That didn’t save them when the day came that someone was looking for it.

The Shinra Power Company of Midgar, a place no one on Kefka’s world would have heard of, had recently built a device capable to bringing them to other worlds. At the head of this project, a man named Hojo, who’s lust for power through experimentation seemed to have no equal. The purpose (and justification) to building such a thing would give them access to nearly limitless resource and possibility for knowledge and they’d begun sending excavation teams to different lands where the data showed the potential was great. This particular world seemed to be overflowing with energy. Hojo wanted the source.

The team was able to reach the area with the greatest concentration of energy fairly quickly though one or two members hesitated at the sight of the warning glyphs. No one knew what they’d uncover and so, it was decided that they would retrieve the glyphs as well. With that, they began to dig. When they uncovered the pale man wrapped in the massive wings, the sensors they carried shorted out and they knew he was the source of the energy. He looked damaged but untouched by age. He was warm. It was as though he was simply resting. They carried him back to the lab and delivered him to the scientist, who immediately began to run tests on him to figure out exactly what he was and what he was capable of. His body was washed and examined and his blood was drawn. Samples were taken from his nails, hair, and wings. He was locked in a cage like an animal.

Kefka barely remembered any of that happening but he did have flashes of it. He vaguely recalled the feeling of being dragged out from the earth and being bathed in hot water. He struggled but had flashes of a blond man and a scientist arguing loudly about him but he didn’t know what they were saying. He recalled feeling a needle being pressed into him...no...several needles. What had they put inside of him? He remembered the feeling of laying naked in the small cage. But now, when Kefka finally opened his eyes, he felt the cold steel of a table under his back and the tightness of restraints on his wrists. He was drowsy, but aware and he had no idea where he was.

There were voices outside the room that he could just barely make out and he looked to one side to see the large window. There was that blond man again. There was the scientist. Why were they fighting? He grunted, trying to pull from the restraints, trying to break out. When he realized it wasn’t working, he glanced at the two again and saw them both staring at him with wide eyes. They knew he was awake now. Shit.

Hojo was more than annoyed with Rufus Shinra at this point. The man was simply too much of a coward to see what kind of opportunity they had here and he wanted all kinds of information, that was frankly none of his business, about the experiment before Hojo could proceed. Hojo had discovered that this man...creature...whatever, was a God and the potential that unlocked in his twisted mind was almost more than he could handle. His blood had the potential to completely override their reliance on Mako. His abilities had the potential for weaponization. Hojo would give Shinra what he wanted but not until he understood more. Though now this thing was awake and he needed to proceed. He picked up his table saw and moved to the subject.

“Don’t try to fight it. You’ve been drugged,” he declares to his new plaything as he moves to observe the other. “I suppose I should be bowing in the presence of divinity, but I’m afraid I’m an atheist. Though I must say that I’m absolutely tickled to have someone as legendary as Kefka Palazzo himself to toy with.” He plugged the saw in.

How did-

Kefka stared at this strange man with utter confusion on his face and it was enough to make the scientist laugh. He certainly did enjoy seeing the powerful helpless.

“There will be time enough for questions later, I assure you, my precious Divine. But for now, I’m behind schedule and so looking forward to mounting one of those big wonderful wings in my office once I’m done draining it.” He flips his protective mask down and turns the saw on, the whine of it cutting through the otherwise silent room as the team of assistants stop to observe him. Then Hojo rushes forward and presses the blade to the stem of one of the wings.

White hot pain rushes through the mage and blood begins to spray everywhere as he begins to scream out in blinding pain and fury. Kefka’s fists clench and his eyes roll back. His feathers harden and sharpen like razors and slice through the restraints. Hojo yells for an assistant to hold him down as the saw screeches when it connects with metal and inevitably begins to overheat and die. The God is panting when the cutting finally stops and he looks to either side of him before giving one giant beat of his wings. The razor feathers fly everywhere, stabbing the men around him, seemingly in an effort to make them all drop.

It wasn’t.

Hojo is laughing at the incident and looks straight at the God, who has a smirk on his face that he just wants to wipe off.

“You think dropping my assistants and guards will stop this? You must not be as-AAHH!” His statement is interrupted as he’s attacked suddenly by one of his assistants, who seemed to be utterly crazed and trying to tear Hojo’s throat open with his teeth. All of the people in the room that had been hit were acting like this. Kefka looks over toward the window again just in time to see the blond man fleeing in a panic. He focuses on the chaos surrounding him breathes deeply, seemingly melding through the restraints to free himself. The last he ever sees of the crazed scientist as he leaves the room, is the sight of him being torn apart by the people he’d once ordered around.

With the door opened, the creatures run free through the building, attacking anyone in site. Those that manage to get away don’t understand that a scratch or a bite won’t simply heal. They’ll turn soon enough. Kefka walks calmly through the corridors as the alarms blare around him and the people flee, chased by these creatures. It isn’t long before they’re escaping from the building and out into the streets. It only takes a half hour for the alarms in the city to start going off. By the time night falls, Kefka gazes out the windows of the executive suite of Shinra tower and sees the fires being set in the distance and the flashing of gunfire. He’s dressed himself in familiar silks and robes and he’s drinking a large glass of wine.

Perhaps this world would provide entertainment for some time.

#oflockhearted #starter #zombie au #most of this was just me narratively wanking so i hope you love it #longlongpost #i'm so happy we had a poop n plot

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 4 years ago

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Why So Jaded? Chapter 10

Enjoy.

Why So Jaded

Chapter 10

Violet woke up to the feeling of the cameras and sensors cycling on and it made her eyes snap open and inhale sharply as she ducked under the covers before they could spot her as she hoped and prayed that it was still too dark to be seen on them but it woke Buddy up.

“What? What?” Buddy asked when he felt her jerk within his embrace.

“The cameras, they’re cycling on, I need to get out of this bed and back into the other one with Jack.” Violet whispered as she clung to his body, hoping that her own wouldn’t be easily seen on the cameras.

“Uh, ok,” Buddy answered as he peeked down into the covers to see her start to turn invisible before he could clearly see his shirt and a pair of underwear.

“Shit, I’m not wearing anything that will vanish with me.” Violet realized as she noticed the same thing and reappeared.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Violet breathed.

“So...what do you want to do?” Buddy whispered back.

“Hang on, give me a second.” Violet urged as she tried to steady her racing heart and labored breathing as she focused on what cameras were cycling on, like a wave through the apartment as she tried to find the rhythm of the cycle.

“Ok, they’re on a wave pattern, they’re about to run over us again, here in a moment, once they pass, I can make a run for it, but I have to do so naked, otherwise they’ll see me.” Violet realized before she froze and held her breath when she felt the cameras pan over them before she finally breathed when it passed before she quickly squirmed to take her underwear off and the shirt and Buddy couldn’t help it, he got hard enough to drill through concrete.

“Ok, when I say when, roll over to your other side and take me with you and then drop me so I’ll be able to get to the floor.” Violet urged him.

“Ok.” Buddy agreed and prayed she wouldn’t notice his bodily reaction to her.

“Ok, in three, two one. Go!” Violet coached as he did as she asked and it felt glorious to feel all of her on him like that, even if it was only for a moment and once he let go, she dropped to the floor on her butt before he heard her scuffle on the floor before her feet slapped against the floors in an effort to get away to his bedroom’s bathroom before the next cycle started as she quickly put on her own pajamas inside the bathroom then pretended to leisurely get out of the bathroom and get back in bed and try to get some more sleep.

Meanwhile Buddy had rolled back over and found her underwear and had it tightly in his fist before he ducked under the covers just in case the cameras were watching and he couldn’t help himself, he had sniffed it and was silently jerking off because he was leaking precum like a river and he did all he could to do so quickly and quietly as his brain churned out several fantasies all at once because to feel Violet press her body against his was heaven and he wanted and needed more and way faster than he was anticipating, he came in a shuddering breath into his own tshirt that she had been wearing so he wouldn’t make a mess out of his bedding and he expected that once he had pleasured himself, that that would have been the end of it. But no. His imagination was sparking into overdrive into a lust filled haze.

Meanwhile Violet was laying in bed feeling her cheeks flush in the darkness. She had felt Buddy’s erection and it had taken all of her self control not to burn all the cameras and listening devices so she could stay and enjoy it because he was packing .

Not the longest erection she had ever felt. But definitely the fattest and thickest. His stocky build hadn’t skipped where it really counted. And now she needed to go back to the bathroom because she had a “device” in her toiletries bag that was calling her name as she slipped out of the bed and stole away into the bathroom before she got her prize and slipped it into her underwear and against her clit and got one of Buddy’s towels and wrapped it around her waist to insulate herself from the lid of the toilet seat as she sat down and turned it on and eagerly began to ride her toy on the toilet seat cover as she wished she could be riding Buddy instead.

Tali had told her, a few times, how Buddy was if anything- a very generous, thoughtful, if not determined lover and had zeroed in- in quick succession all her erogenous zones and after a few sessions, would know just what and how to bring her to her knees in bliss and had simply said he was ‘well endowed’ and knew what to do with what the gods had gifted him with and how he had the range to go from soft and sweet and romantic to bone rattling, star gazing, burning in blissful lust with just a word and how even though he was always a commanding and dominating presence, he didn’t mind getting dominated every once in a while and often let her do as she pleased with him and had no problem submitting to her one moment or dominating her in the next. At the time Violet had been grossed out to learn any of that, but they were sharing a few bottles of wine as Tali had been nursing Luca in her penthouse at Sky Way. Having Tali so close was the only reason Violet had for staying there as much as she did and would be the only bad thing about leaving there. Violet had been lying when she told Phillip that she only knew her as Mirage. Her and Tali had become even closer since Violet moved in a year ago and it was on her Fridays that Violet took her order from Merry Cherry straight to Tali’s penthouse so they could talk, drink and rant to each other about the week.

But right this instant, Violet was so focused on fantasizing Buddy underneath her with his thick meaty hands on her hips, gripping them with almost a bruising grip and letting her ride him with reckless abandon as he pledged his undying, unwavering and infinite love and fidelity to her and only her and how he would never compare her to Tali as long as she never did the same with him and Phillip. And how he would feast on her while making a feast for her and would hopefully eat her out right because while Phillip had a decent dick game, his oral or finger game was lackluster at best and according to Tali- that’s where Buddy excelled because Buddy never really had to rely on his looks or any powers to deliver- and just had to learn and master it the old fashion way- through practice and persistence in his own efforts to overcompensate for his own- what he felt, was his deficits in his natural looks and charm.

Violet finally came in a silent scream as her hips stuttered as she ground down onto her toy as she rode out her own orgasm before she turned it off to keep herself from being overstimulated. Then she removed it from herself and put it back into her toiletries bag before she slipped back into bed and managed to fall asleep and finally get the rest of her beauty sleep right about the same time Buddy had gotten to his third and final orgasm before he finally fell back asleep himself, although that was hard considering, he didn’t have someone to hold onto anymore, after several years of not having someone to sleep next to, he had almost forgotten how wonderful that felt and how grounding and comforting it was and instead he found himself hugging the pillow she had been sleeping on to mimic the feeling of having her in his arms again, it was a sorry excuse for her but it was better than nothing.

It was 10am by the time they all seemed to wake up for the day and staggered to the kitchen before they all seemed to try to make breakfast together before they all gravitated to the breakfast bar as Violet contemplated the previous evening’s events as Buddy did his best to act as natural as possible for Jack’s sake and once they ate breakfast, they went back into the lab to see what had finished processing as Violet looked at her new suit in awe.

“Wow.” Violet breathed as she looked at it.

“So, tell me about it.” Violet invited to Buddy as she sidled up to him and nudged him with her hip.

“Well, it’s a spin off of your current suit in that it is a matrix of nano armor that should feel like fabric…” Buddy began as he got the suit out of the compositor and handed it to her as she looked it over eagerly, appreciating the softness of it.

“But instead of having to wear the suit itself all the time, it can be shrunk down into something of a necklace, like this.” Buddy explained as he pressed a button and instantly the suit retracted into itself and all that Violet was left with- was a very beautiful necklace before she pressed on the large "stone" and the suit reappeared into her hands.

“And the beauty of it, is if at any point- any of it gets torn- it’ll repair itself or if need be- as long as you have one mother nano, which the suit has several- it can regrow from that single mother nano, or even since you’re a handler to an asset with other security detail, lets say- you find yourself on a desert island and everyone’s clothes are torn and falling off, what you can do- is detach a piece that has a mother nano and put that fabric on someone else and a suit will form around them and conform to them and then the mother nano will multiply and divide so that they in turn can repeat that process as many times over as needed. I built it so it naturally monitors the surrounding environment and it’ll calibrate to keep you comfortable, so say you’re in the arctic and you’re only wearing this- well the suit will actually heat up on the inside layer to keep you warm without showing off that heat to any thermal indicators so you’d still be invisible. And it does come with natural sunscreen so you can wear this without worrying about getting a sunburn or anything. Or even wear this in a desert, where it’s 110 degrees and this thing will keep you cool while collecting any perspiration, filtering it and can deliver it back to you if need be. Now when this suit becomes invisible, I made sure to include- infrared, ultraviolet and all the other spectrums that humanity can sense, so that when you’re invisible, you’re invisible - invisible. Because with your old suit, I was still able to sense where you were because of the static electricity, in this one- not anymore. Also…” Buddy began as he told her about the dozens of other features he had put into the suit including cloaking abilities so that she could wear the suit and it could look like everyday clothes and then press a button and transform into the suit or vanish which was also voice activated which Violet thought was amazing and eagerly went into the bathroom to try the suit on and was surprised it covered her head and made her hair into a natural ponytail which she appreciated before she noticed that her hair became like three- not quite tentacles but not quite hands either, but simply like tools that she found she could control with her mind as she practiced reaching and grabbing things and bringing them back to herself, like rolls of toilet paper before she practiced putting things back before she left the lab.

“So? What do you think?” Buddy asked hopefully.

“I’m in love with it, these were a really smart idea, so I don’t have to use my powers to do the yo-yo thing.” Violet praised as Jack came over and checked out her suit, pocking and prodding it.

“How far will the artificial arms stretch out?” Jack asked.

“Anywhere from a few feet to about fifty.” Buddy estimated.

“And I asked him to give your suit some medical aspects too, so like if you ever get injured, the suit will be able to tell and be able to dress and stabilize the wound, it’ll even replicate artificial skin like say if you got a bullet wound. Each mother nano has a medical nano piggy backing it so it will again, help whoever else you have to share the suit with.” Jack explained.

“Aww, that’s very sweet and thoughtful of you Jack.” Violet cooed appreciatively.

“And obviously because you hate heels, I made it flat footed and comfortable so it will feel like you’re wearing sneakers and it should grip really well so you don't slip on anything.” Buddy added.

“I did notice that, thank you.” Violet returned appreciatively as she moved her weight from one foot to the other to appreciate the comfortable soles the suit had.

“And it has a water feature, a few actually.” Jack eagerly informed Violet.

“Water features?” Violet frowned.

“So you can breathe underwater.” Jack answered.

“Oh, sweet.” Violet blinked in surprise with a smile.

“And then, when you’re sneaking into a place that has weight sensors in the floor, you can use...which button is it Barret?” Jack asked.

“Oh for that, you press this and this at the same time.” Buddy explained as he pointed to the buttons on the inside of her forearms before Violet pressed them and immediately felt like she was in a pool as she lifted in the air and started giggling then laughing when she could “swim” around the lab.

“Oh yeah, new favorite features.” Violet giggled when she turned it off and walked back to them as she continued to play with her suit.

“So to get it to look like clothes, where can I change what I want the clothes to look like?” Violet asked.

“Oh, here,” Buddy informed her before he brought her over to a computer as Violet began to pull up pictures of clothes from the internet and “loaded” them into the program and created short cuts in the suit.

“Another way you can do that is simply dress in like your favorite clothes and ask the suit to “clone” it too.” Jack informed her proudly.

“Is there anything this suit doesn’t do?” Violet asked rhetorically.

“That’s a good question, I built it to simply amplify your own powers and I tried to cover all the bases I could think of, considering your current situation and circumstances, which is according to my current knowledge and just building off the genius that Edna had already come up with and I did my best to stay with her styling so that if Edna ever gets to see it, she won’t be offended that you had "a man" design your suit instead of her.” Buddy shrugged because Jack had told him how outraged Edna had been when she had seen his mom’s old suit that ‘some man’ designed a decade prior.

“Yeah, I think she’ll be ok with this, I think your next collaboration should be with her, because I know of at least a dozen women who would pay a shit ton of money for a suit like this with all these features.” Violet appraised.

“Thank you, so much for it.” Violet thanked them as she hugged Jack first then hugged Buddy.

“So what do I owe you for the suit?” Violet posed to Buddy with a smile that hinted at perhaps something licentious.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Buddy shook his head.

“Oh I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go check on something.” Violet said as she vanished in a flash.

“Holy shit I can phase through walls now?” Violet asked as she reached the wall and was able to phase through it and stepped from one side of the wall to the other as Violet outright giggled.

“You’re welcome!” Jack called out, proud of himself for himself and Buddy to capture his own super power and was able to imbue it into the suit.

Violet made her way to security before she found Nelson just getting off from the night.

“So anything interesting happen last night?” Pike asked as he came into the room.

“Nope, nothing, Violet and Jack stayed in the bed all night, Pine took the couch like a gentleman.” Nelson answered as Violet paused and frowned and became visible and changed the suit to just a normal t-shirt and jeans just as Nelson was coming out of the room.

“Hey Boss, what are you doing up here?” Nelson asked.

“Oh, just checking on things.” Violet answered but the look Nelson gave her was telling as he smiled knowingly at her and came up to her.

“I took care of it, nothin’ happened .” Nelson simply whispered as he stood in front of her.

“Oh thank God.” Violet breathed as she reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Phil had his own fun last night- he went to the ballet and took home the star, he never checked in once.” Nelson reassured her.

“What do I owe you?” Violet asked.

“If Pine gets to escape SEB, put in a word with him so he can take me with- because I like working with him, he’s a good guy.” Nelson stated simply.

“Will do.” Violet vowed.

“Me too! Pine is awesome.” Pike said as he poked his head out the door from the security room that held the feeds from Buddy’s floor.

“Who else?” Violet laughed as she looked from Nelson to Pike.

“Everyone, when we were in Vegas, Pine was a class act and obviously still continues to be, none of us have signed non-competes. So when and if Pine ever gets out of here, we’re hoping he’ll want a familiar face to have his back.” Pike answered.

“What if he can’t pay as much?” Violet posed.

“I’d take a pay cut if it meant I didn’t have to deal with half the shit we’ve put up with for the last few years with Sebastian.” Nelson appraised.

“Same.” Pike mirrored as Violet could only nod in agreement.

“Well for now, keep that close to your chest, wouldn’t want that to get out and suddenly you guys would either have to sign non-competes or get fired.” Violet warned them.

“Not that anyone would ever hear anything from me about it except for Mr. Pine but more and more walls have ears these days.” Violet reassured them.

“Understood Boss.” Pike and Nelson nodded in understanding.

“Thanks guys for having my back. I owe you. I better get back.” Violet urged before she went back to Buddy’s lab, disappearing once she was around the corner.

Buddy and Jack had even been working on Jack’s super suit as well as Jack went through his own wardrobe so he could “change” from his clothes the previous day.

“So what did you guys want to do today?” Violet posed once she came back into the lab.

“Can we just hang out today?” Jack asked hopefully as he looked from Buddy to Violet.

“It’s whatever you guys want to do, technically you guys could go home now if you wanted.” Buddy offered but grinned when Violet and Dash crinkled their noses at that.

“Nah, if you don’t mind, we could just hang out with you.” Jack opted.

“I don’t mind one bit, I’d enjoy it actually.” Violet grinned.

“I’d be happy to have you, you won’t hear any argument from me.” Buddy happily agreed before the three seemed to settle in and Violet quite enjoyed just hanging out and seeing how Jack and Buddy seemed to instantly get along and befriend each other and tag team on stuff before she knew it they had come back into the apartment side as Buddy walked Jack and Violet through one of his favorite lunch recipes and Jack eagerly learned what he could from him before the three of them gravitated to the couch while their lunch baked in the oven and Violet happily cozied right up to Buddy’s side and was happy when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they watched a movie and marveled at how natural and easy this was, how it wasn’t forced like how she had to be with Phillip but she genuinely wanted to be near Buddy and how nicely they fit together and Violet was ever so grateful that Jack was not only well behaved but polite and just generally- a really great kid, as the day both seemed to fly by yet Violet got to enjoy every minute of it, which was a welcome change of pace for her.

Meanwhile Buddy was practically tickled pink that Violet felt so comfortable with him and was just casual in her closeness and it was all his strength not to kiss her every two seconds. But he could go slow, technically, had the next few years to go slow. He had time.

After dinner, they found themselves at the table, playing a card game and Jack was throttling both of them.

“At least we’re not in Vegas losing money this time.” Violet comforted Buddy.

“Just my pride.” Buddy laughed as he put a card down and Jack smiled evilly.

“Thank you.” Jack grinned as he picked up the card and put down another three of a kind.

“And one discard, and I’m out.” Jack announced happily as Buddy and Violet both groaned.

“Damn it. I needed one more ace and I could have been ok.” Violet realized as she counted up her points and whimpered when she had negative points to add to the roster.

“How bad?” Jack asked.

“Negative 45.” Violet answered as Jack put that down.

“Barret?” Jack prompted.

“Hang on, uh, 45 plus 55, crap, that’s a hundred, negative 100. And I’m sorry Vi, I had your ace.” Buddy revealed as he let his overflowing hand down and poked at the ace in question.

“And I have….” Jack said as he counted up his cards. “A hundred and twenty five. Yes, I win.” Jack beamed as he totaled everything up, having gotten five points past the 500 points mark.

“Don’t take it hard Barret, they say those that are unlucky in cards are lucky in love.” Jack soothed.

“Yeah, I’m kind of unlucky in both.” Buddy readily confessed as he finished his wine before he got up from the table to retrieve another bottle for him and Violet to share.

“Unlucky so far - maybe your best luck is about to strike, you never know.” Jack insisted before he took another long sip of his Coke and subtly winked at Violet who crinkled her nose at him as Buddy simply grinned crookedly as he uncorked the bottle of wine then returned to the table before he refilled Violet’s glass for her and then his own as Jack reshuffled the deck and began to deal a new game for them.

“Maybe.” Buddy allowed before he looked at his cards but to feel Violet’s knee gently rub against his had him not caring at all that his cards were complete shit. Honestly, just spending time with her, especially when she was happy and pleased with him was all he could hope or ask for.

After another round of cards, they went back to the couch to watch another movie and Violet and Jack both fell asleep, Jack had been laying into Violet’s side as Violet had been doing the same to Buddy and Buddy just grinned happily when they were both comfortable enough to fall asleep as Buddy happily carried Violet to his bed first then Jack as he once again got the couch and pulled out the pull out bed and set it up for himself. Happy and content with himself for showing some restraint.

Meanwhile Phillip finally called to check in on the situation while his current flavor of the weekend lay knocked out in his bedroom.

“Hey, so how did Ms. Parr do?” Phillip asked Pike just as Leland was coming in to relieve him.

“She did great and Mr. Pine behaved like a gentleman.” Pike reported.

“Is she still in there?” Phillip asked.

“Yes, however, that is only because Jack doesn’t want to leave, apparently Jack and Buddy have kind of bonded over Jack’s school project and Jack actually knew the children of Mr. Pine’s company because he got invited to other social gatherings, like birthday parties and such that Ms. Parr agreed to take him to. Also Jack played rummy with them and whipped them both.” Pike reported since they were able to piece that together with the wave of feeds that came in every so often.

“Huh,” Phillip frowned.

“However there was a development, sir.” Pike reluctantly reported.

“What development?” Phillip pressed.

“Ms. Parr and Jack are both working on Dragon Eye apparently and they have brought Mr. Pine into it. So he’s now a collaborator with that project.” Pike revealed since he was able to see that when the lab had had waves of feed as Phillip marched to his computer and got into The Agency’s database and got to see what had been done and felt a flurry of emotions.

The first was jealousy then hurt that Violet didn’t come to him first to discuss this with him. Also, how did Violet think that involving Jack into this dangerous case was a good idea? Let alone Mr. Pine? Then he looked closer at it and realized- it wasn’t just Violet, Mr. Pine and Jack, Edna had her own ‘fingerprints’ on this and so did half The Agency apparently. But he could tell where Jack and Edna had their own work and then Violet had hers and saw how it was Mr. Pine who put it all together and was working several angles that even surprised and if Phillip’s pride wasn’t so hurt- would have impressed him too.

It didn’t take much for Phillip to realize that if he wasn’t “legitimate” and on the right side of these things- he would be treated in similar fashion only because he had similar powers which only reinforced his own belief that he could never be known that he was a Super. But he was grateful that Mr. Pine had figured out a way to protect Violet from Dragon Eye. But that also meant that while she was protected from Dragon Eye, she would be immune to him also. But Phillip felt confident that she no longer needed him to have an affect on her. That her feelings for him were strong enough and deep enough that she would still be loyal to him. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how desperate Violet must have been feeling about this case to bring them in and he even read her notes- that Violet left on this case that she needed to make sure that he and Dragon Eye never met just in case Dragon Eye would pose a threat to not only herself, but him and anyone else too even though Phillip knew his own powers dwarfed Dragon Eye’s and it should be Dragon Eye that should be fearful of ever meeting him.

“Sir?” Pike asked.

“Thank you so much for your report, keep the wave pattern up and report to me when she and Jack leave.” Phillip decided.

“Yes sir, good night Sir.” Pike signed off.

“Good night.” Phillip answered before he hung up.

“Philly?” Ainsley asked as she lifted her head from his pillow and was reaching out to see where he was in the bed before Phillip quickly logged out of The Agency’s database and went back to bed with her before he cuddled close and waited until she fell back asleep before Phillip stared up at his ceiling. All he needed was a push for Violet before he looked down at the girl laying on his chest and grinned wolfishly.

He was going to make Violet jealous. If he got with the beauty in his arms, that would either push Violet to get jealous, and she would have two options, admit she has feelings for him and try to break him up to get with him and finally drop her 'too dangerous to be together' act, or she could jealousy throw herself in perhaps another man’s arms to make him jealous in turn. Because if Violet- out of jealousy decided to toy with say- Mr. Pine’s emotions because it would only be a week or two before Violet would feel ‘frustrated’ sexually. And even if she vented those frustrations on him, that would only further entrap Mr. Pine. So let her get as close and cozy with Mr. Pine as she wanted to. Because he was still confident that her heart still belonged to him even if Violet didn't know it yet herself.

#Now it get's fun #Why So Jaded?#Why So Jaded? Chapter 10 #Synlet #Buddy Pine #Bartholomew Pine #Violet Parr #Oh how far they've come #And how far they have yet to go #hehe

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twokinkybeans · 5 years ago

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Jar Of Dirt Chapter 6: Bow Tie [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Public Teasing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Exhibitionism, Striptease. Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Verbal Humiliation, Feminization. Other warnings: Tony's ex saying some hurtful shit to Peter as he tries to crash the party

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 ... Masterpost (More to come!)

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Chapter 6: Bow Tie It’s a beautiful Sunday morning. New York City, the rising sun shining over its tall buildings surely is a magnificent sight. Peter’s at the kitchen table, working through his Nuclear Physics homework. Yesterday, he and Tony were chilling in the lab together, working on Peter’s suit. It didn’t really need any enhancements, but that didn’t stop them. It was just so much fun to be in the lab together. Peter didn’t have to hold back. He could say everything. He’s smart. He knows that it makes people uncomfortable. From a young age, he’d learned to keep his mind from spilling all his new theories or excitement about specific topics. But Tony. Fuck. That man was just as intelligent and had years and years to study whatever topic the man put his mind to. Peter loved learning from him. They would bounce off ideas on one another until both of them would be out of breath from rambling on and on and on. It’d been rather late when they went to bed last night, meaning Tony was still fast asleep. Peter figured that if he finished his homework right now, they’d be able to spend the rest of their day together.

In the end, Peter thinks Tony is taking a bit too long and he wakes him up with a blowjob. Tony loved the surprise and groaned the filthiest things as he guided Peter, fingers tangled tightly in his curls. This time, Peter didn’t allow Tony to get him off. Yes, the boy had been hard, but he wanted to put all focus on the other man for now. Tony’s been working very, very hard on opening up and trying to stop using his mind’s filter around the boy. Peter loves it. Loves him. He’s happy to speed up the process. He feels like they’ve made huge steps when it comes to experiencing all their kinks together so far. It makes him feel more confident.

Later that afternoon they’re curled up on the couch together, watching the last Pirates movie. Peter had been skeptical about the possibility of Tony liking the movies, but to both their surprises, he did enjoy it a lot. He’d been making references all day long. Tony figures they should watch movies together more often. He’d get better at all those pop culture references, and Peter would get some education of the hot items when Tony was younger. It would bring them closer together, he knew that much. “Hmmm, Tony, what do you want for your birthday next week?” Peter asks with a wide grin on his face. Tony groans. “Oh God, why’d you have to bring that up.” “Aren’t you excited?” “To become even older? Not exactly.” “Hmmm, well, I am excited. I want to get you a present. A nice one. What do you want?” “You’re all I need.” Peter huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. “I know. But, I still want to give you something else.” Tony looks at Peter, who’s eyeing at him with the sweetest and loving look in his eyes and his sarcastic demeanor softens. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t want to sound cliché but, I’ve literally got everything I could ever want or need.” “Hmm, guess I’ll have to be creative then.” Peter grins, causing Tony to raise his eyebrows. “You already got something on your mind, kid?” “Maybe?” He doesn’t have a single clue, but he’ll figure something out. Maybe he could ask Aunt May or Ned for help.

Tony kisses his cheek and turns off the television. “Sooo, is it time for our jar of dirt? No matter how much I think Johnny Depp’s got quite the value in his, I think ours is more… exciting. Peter laughs and nudges his side. It’s pretty much a daily ritual for them now to pick a note when they’re together, so they decided to keep the jar in the living room for the time being. No one else really visits Tony’s private suite anyways. Peter reaches to pick it up and then leans back against the couch. He sticks it out to Tony. “Your turn, daddy!” “Hmmm, let’s see what we got today.” Tony opens the lid. “Are you excited to try some new stuff before you gotta pretend to be an innocent boy back in college?” Peter’s sad that he has to leave again tonight, but seeing how amazing their phone sex had been last week, he knew they would pull through it easily. Besides, they still got tonight. “Very curious what it’s gonna be!” He watches Tony’s hand carefully and the man laughs. “No worries, Peter. I’m not cheating anymore. Look-” Tony fishes one out and Peter doesn’t miss how it makes Tony swallow when he sees it’s one of the white, crisp notes. One of Tony’s. He watches carefully, looking at Tony’s lean fingers as he opens the paper. The man looks at it, frozen in place. Peter doesn’t miss the panic sparking in his eyes, the billionaire’s skin turning paler than he’s ever seen.

“Fuck, no way.” Tony folds the paper and throws it back in the jar, his eyes widened in shock. Peter stares, startled. The other man mutters something inaudible and he draws away from the boy. Peter’s mind immediately chants fuck, fuck, fuck. “Tony?” The older man closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Tony,” Peter says, more gentle this time, scooting closer and placing his hands on his knee, squeezing reassuringly. He can’t let Tony shut down again. He won’t let him. “-what happened?” “I am so sorry. I… This is like, the kink…” Tony takes a moment, taking a deep breath. Peter feels a stab in his chest looking at his lover. He’s never seen Tony like this. So scared. So insecure. “God. Peter. I want to do that one with you. Very, very badly. But I’m not ready for this one yet. I’m sorry.”

Peter swallows down the lump in his throat. Slowly, he pulls Tony in for a hug, holding him close and tight. “Tony… Daddy. I’ve got you. It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s not, though. You’re so brave for me, Peter. You were still a virgin when jumping into all of this with me. And here I am, scared of-” he says, gesturing at the jar angrily, “-something I know you probably wouldn’t judge me for. I just can’t shake this horrible feeling of it being the one thing that might drive you away from me.” He nuzzles his head in the crook of Peter’s neck. He suddenly seems so small compared to his usual composed self. So fragile. “Do you want to talk about it?” “I… Not really. I’m sorry. Let’s say my ex ran away from me when he found out, and I’ve been made fun of more often than not when people knew. I just… Stopped telling people altogether. Haven’t brought it up in years.” The man sighs, breath shaky. “I want to, Peter. You deserve to know. I will, one day. But not today. I can’t.” “That’s okay, Tony. I’m here. Thank you for telling me, I don’t want you to push yourself just because you’re the dominant one.” Tony nods slowly, a hesitant but still nervous smile playing on his lips. “You’re a smart kid.” “Mhm.” They put the jar away and decide to just keep with just cuddles and sweet kissing today. Peter wants to give Tony the space he needs, and Tony enjoys the downtime with his boyfriend. He couldn’t bring himself to have any type of sex after this… fiasco. However, Peter not bolting right away is a good sign. They’ll get there. They will.

Peter’s staring at his reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow, it’s Tony’s birthday. Tonight however, is the celebration with all his friends and families and random people that are interested in Mr. Tony Stark for whatever reason. It’ll be fancy. Peter’s never been to a fancy party like this and it’s making him anxious. God. He’s wearing a tux. Everyone knows he’s Tony’s boyfriend. He’s not sure if he’s ready to face all the judgmental staring. The whispers behind his back.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, baby.” Tony whispers, hugging him from behind. “Love seeing you all dressed up. It suits you.” He kisses the boy’s hair and turns Peter around, away from the mirror. “Got you a little something, the cherry on top.” Tony hands him a deep red bow tie and Peter’s eyes widen. “I have no clue how to tie that,” Peter rushes out right away. His nerves are getting the better of him, dammit. Tony shakes his head slowly with a smile. “Let me help.” He takes the bow tie back from Peter’s hands and wraps it around him. Peter closes his eyes as he let’s the man work his magic. He tries taking a deep breath, focusing only on the way Tony’s fingers brush along his skin as he ties it into, of course, a flawless bow. “I know you’re feeling a bit uncomfortable,” Tony starts, lifting his chin up with one finger. “-but we’re gonna show all those idiots out there what we’re made of. Just stick with the people who know us. Know you. If people talk shit to you, talk shit back. Permission granted. If they don’t like it they’re free to leave.” “But- I don’t want to ruin your party." “Kid, believe me, good riddance and all that. I want you and my friends to have a good time. If I could, half of the people here tonight wouldn’t have been invited in the first place.” Peter nods. He gets it. He knows that if it were up to Tony, he would’ve just wanted to invite his closest friends and have a lazy pizza party or whatever. But, him being as famous as he is, it’s not gonna happen. Next year, Peter promises himself, next year he’ll organize a surprise party like that.

And of course, he’s got a surprise for Tony tomorrow.

Two hours into the party, Peter let his guard down. It was a lot of fun. Good music, the happy laughter and clinking of wine glasses, creating a nice, open atmosphere. It was still too fancy for Peter’s liking, but not too stiff. No one seems to be actively bothered by the fact that he’s there. Of course, there’s been some side glancing, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Tony’s advice to just stick with the people he knows had been good. He’d been hanging with Cap and Bucky for a bit, and then, to his surprise, Aunt May who’d been invited as well. When he saw her walking out the elevator he’d nearly teared up. He knew Tony invited her for his sake, and he couldn’t have been more grateful. “Oh, Peter! Look at you!” She’d gasped, her eyes glimmering with pride. “Such a handsome gentleman, aren’t you.” She’s been supportive of their relationship since day one, after interrogating Tony for about an hour, that is. Peter’s lucky to have her in his life.

Right now, he’s trying to get to Tony through the dancing crowd. Suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder and he flinches, turning around fast. He breaks out into goosebumps right away and he takes a step back. He doesn’t think he’s seen the man in front of him before. Blonde hair slicked back, a slight beard. The man is staring him down and it makes him highly uncomfortable. Something’s definitely off. “Oh, uh, hi, Sir. Can I help you?” “You must be Peter Parker,” the man starts, dragging out his name and then scoffing a laugh. “I’m Quentin Beck. I’m here because I have an offer for you.” “An offer?” “Yeah, you see,” the man leans in as if he’s trying to spill a secret, “-I know that Tony’s rich. But so am I. I can give you more. And not just financially.” He glances down to look at Peter’s crotch. “I have a few inches on that man and just hearing you talk to me like that has me imagining what pretty little sounds you’d make. Sounds that I would get you to make. I know how greedy Stark is. I-” Peter needs a moment to process everything this man is throwing at him and he tries to shift a little to hide his crotch as much as possible. “Look, Mr. Beck. I didn’t get with him for his money if that’s what you’re asking and also no. I’m not interested in… that.”

Peter tries to get away from this creep, feeling sick to his stomach by the comments he made. However, the man grabs his shoulder again, holding him in place. Peter clenches his fists, trying to keep himself from turning around and pushing the man off him. He easily could. He doesn’t want to ruin this party. He wants Tony to have a good night without having to deal with men like this one. “Fuck, you know you want to.” Quentin hisses, his voice getting louder. People around them start to notice, their whispers increasing. “You’re just a needy little boy toy, running after his riches. Such a fucking gold digger. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t deny it.”

That’s it for Peter. He will not let some douchebag talk shit about him and Tony at his freaking party. He grabs the man’s arm and drags him to the elevator, ignoring the shocked faces of the people they pass. He pushes Quentin inside the elevator, with just a tad more force than a normal man would be able to use. The man groans as he comes to a halt against the wall, looking up at Peter in surprise. He too steps into the elevator, closing the doors. He wants to make sure Beck leaves the Tower.

“Take us to the lobby, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he says through gritted teeth. “Oh, you’re stronger than you look, aren’t you?” Quentin narrows his eyes, eyeing him once more. “And all that coming from a cute, little twink like you. It’s adorable. I’d have so much fun with you.” “Shut up.” Peter can’t hear another word from this man. “Now, now, don’t go all tough on me. You’re hotter when you’ve got that submissive vibe going on. Don’t think I didn’t notice you re-tying Tony’s shoes earlier tonight. On your knees right in front of him. Like an obedient bitch. God, aren’t you his perfect little toy to play with?” “Shut. Up.” “You’re really living up to his perverted tendencies, aren’t ya?” Peter’s expression falters for only a millisecond, but it didn’t go unnoticed. It sparks something in the other man. “Ah…” Beck coos. “He hasn’t told you yet, has he?”

Before Peter has time to comment on that remark, the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open. “Get out.” “Oh, didn’t you like our little bonding session? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be Tony’s slut?” Beck laughs as he steps out the elevator, brushing past Peter. “But sure, I’ll leave you two to it, for now. When you change your mind, come find me. I’ll be looking forward to your pretty moans.” The man laughs again and walks towards the front door, blowing him a kiss. “Ruuffffff!” Peter frowns. Did the man just… Bark?

Peter stares as the doors slide shut, locking the man out. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., deny access to Quentin Beck throughout the entire building.” “Access denied, Peter.” “Good.” He steps back into the elevator. “Take me back to the party.” As the elevator brings him up, Peter thinks about everything that Beck has said. The insults. The insinuations. God. He can’t even believe the things this… creep said to him. If this is Tony’s ex… He feels a tug on his heart. No wonder the man has such trouble opening up to him. And fuck, how brave of Tony to try it anyway. Whatever happens, no matter what Tony’s kink might be, he’s determined to make sure Tony will never feel like this again. He’ll show Tony that Beck is wrong.

When he walks back into the party he goes to find Tony, wanting to give him a long, loving hug. Which is exactly what he does when he spots the dark-haired man in the kitchen, grabbing a little snack. “Hey, Peter, where have you been?” Tony smiles, returning the hug. “Hmmm, just taking out some trash.” “Honey,” Tony laughs. “We got people for that.” “I know, I know.” Peter answers, trying to figure out whether he should tell him what happened. He’d find out anyway. “Just wanted to be absolutely sure he’d leave.” “What, he?” Tony looks down at Peter, his face filled with worry. Oh God. Peter should’ve just not said anything. He knows Tony would never leave it at that. “Hey look, whiskey! You should try it” “Kid, I picked this whiskey, I know what it tastes like, who’d you throw out?” “No one. Just this dude being a little too drunk. It’s fine. I handled it.”

“Peter!” Aunt May’s voice chimes in, and he sighs, grateful for the distraction. “It’s late, darling. I’m going home. You,” she says, pointing at both men. “-have an amazing night. I’ll see you both soon!” She hugs Tony, then Peter, giving him a kiss on his forehead. When the elevator doors close, Peter can almost immediately feel Tony’s demeanor shift. The billionaire wraps his arm around Peter’s waist and pinches him in his side, making Peter jolt slightly and laugh. “You know, Mr Stark-” Peter raises his eyebrows. “I appreciate you waiting for my aunt to leave to become all grabby, but that was fast.” “What can I say?” Tony says softly. “I just prefer you at my side.” Peter scoffs and looks up at Tony with a cheeky smile. “Gonna show me off to all of New York?” “Now, why would I do that?” Tony licks his lips with a smirk, setting the idea aside for later, and he and eyes a small group of people near the bar. “Let’s get you something sweet to drink.”

The rest of the evening felt way different. Tony was teasing. Constantly. From having Peter suck on an ice cube to his hand wandering a little too low on Peter’s back to be socially acceptable. It had the boy hard and aching within half an hour and he still had to pretend everything was all fine. Quentin Beck was long forgotten when Tony fed Peter a bite of some small French treat. One by one people are leaving. It’s late and Tony - as generous as he is - arranged chauffeurs to bring all the people who are too drunk to leave of their own accord to their homes. Tony winked at Peter when he said that he didn’t want anyone to sleep over that night for… Personal reasons.

At about 2am, Steve Rogers was finally ushered out of the Tower. He insisted on helping clean everything up, but Tony promised that it was okay. Tony drops himself on the couch, surrounded by leftover snacks and empty glasses. Multiple party poppers had exploded in this area, leaving confetti everywhere. God, they were going to be finding small pieces of paper for the next half year. Small pieces of paper. Tony’s mind goes back to the jar. Maybe he should take out what scares him the most. Just… Do that when he really feels he and Peter are ready for it. His head falls back and he closes his eyes as he widens his legs, airing out. He groans, tired, and he manages to lift his hands to loosen up his tie.

Suddenly, he feels Peter sit down on top of him, his legs on either side of Tony’s body. His soft, small hands take the tie out of Tony’s rough ones and he tightens the tie again as he leans in, grinding down into Tony’s crotch. A sweet moan falls off Peter’s lips. “Look so hot in these clothes, boss. Keep them on, please?” Tony’s eyes go dark with lust as he pushes Peter back slightly. Oh, he likes where this is going. He bites his lip and his hands roam over Peter’s chest. The soft fabric of his button-up wrinkling under his touch. “I like you better without clothes,” he mutters. One by one, he starts opening the buttons of Peter’s shirt. Peter keeps grinding against Tony, whimpering at the attention. When Tony opens the last button, his hands move up to Peter’s shoulders to push both the jacket and the shirt down his arms, discarding them to be found after the fun. Tony flicks the bow tie he didn’t take off with his index finger. “Though… I’ll leave the little bow on my present.” The compliment makes Peter blush and smile.

After an entire night of teasing, Peter’s feeling bold. Also horny as fuck, but bold. “Want me to put on a show for you, daddy?” He asks, cocking his head. Tony nods, an uncharacteristically loving look in his eye. Peter wastes no time, trailing his hands over his body, teasing himself further. He traces the lines of his abs until he reaches his nipples, evading them and letting go to push his hands through his hair, all while still grinding down on his daddy. He lowers his hands, presenting them to Tony, bringing them to his mouth. The billionaire slowly licks up Peter’s index finger and then moves quickly in order to wet all of Peter’s fingers with his tongue. Peter thanks his daddy before bringing his digits back to his nipples. He squeezes them. Plays with them, not pausing his slow grinding into Tony’s crotch. They’re both hard and the friction is dizzying. Soft, sweet whimpers and moans fall down Peter’s lips and Tony soaks up everything, taking in every second of how his good boy plays with himself.

Peter starts speeding up. His breathing quickens and his moans turn more desperate. It’s too much for Tony’s liking. He doesn’t want the boy to come just yet. “Get up, Peter,” he orders. “Why don’t you strip naked for me and get on your knees like a good boy would?” Peter obeys without second thought. He hates the sudden lack of attention on his hard-on, but he can’t say he’s not enjoying the attention he gets from Tony. Tony angles his head up to look Peter in the eye, yet Peter still feels like he’s smaller. With one turn of his hand, F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows exactly which playlist to turn on. Peter had made fun of Tony for having a sex playlist, but he now realizes that the music has a whole different effect on him in this situation. Peter takes the music as an invitation to start swaying his hips. He smiles and closes his eyes, amazed at the fact that 15-year-old Peter Parker would never have imagined giving Tony Stark a fucking striptease. Yet here he is. Shoes and socks discarded, playing with the hem of his trousers.

Tony drinks it all up. The way Peter is thoroughly enjoying himself. Touching himself. As if there is no one else in the room. Eyes closed, a dreamy smile on his face. Peter toys with the belt around his waist and something inside Tony screams at him to take the belt and use it. Maybe as a collar with a leash, or maybe to spank his pretty boy’s pert butt. He holds back, though. For now. Tony lazily palms his hard-on through his pants while Peter tosses the belt aside. He slowly pushes down his pants and underwear at the same time. His cock springs free and Tony can tell it must be aching, so hard.

The air is cold on Peter’s skin and he feels naked. Well, he is naked, but it feels worse. More humiliating, with Tony still fully clothed in his incredibly expensive, Italian suit. Peter keeps turning eights with his hips, in tune with the music, pushing his hands through his hair again and letting his fingers with the remains of Tony’s saliva still on them linger on his lips. He sucks on his digit, feeling the sensual beat of the song thrum through his body. His hands move down, not touching where he wants to be touched. He knows he doesn’t have permission. He vaguely recalls Tony had ordered him to get on his knees, so slowly, he lowers himself and sits down with his knees slightly spread, displaying himself for daddy. His hips still rolling sensually and slowly to the music.

“My perfect, little slut…” Tony groans as he unzips his pants, relishing in the power imbalance. He slowly pulls out his hard cock and strokes it a few times, watching Peter’s jaw go slack. The boy nearly drools at the sight and it only spurs Tony on. “You want this, don’t you?” Peter nods, only half present. His mind hyper-focusing on the throbbing shaft in Tony’s hand. “Yes,” he whispers. “Want your cock, daddy.” “Mmm…” Tony moans. “Such a good cockslut for daddy. Come here, boy. Come get your reward.” Peter has to get on all fours to be able to move closer and Tony nearly bursts at the sight of Peter crawling towards him, back arched, butt sticking out and eyes still strained on Tony’s cock. He decides that he imagined the boy’s tongue hanging out slightly, but part of him is sure he saw it.

Peter opens his mouth wide and his lips wrap around Tony’s dick. Moaning lewdly at the contact. The vibrations send shivers through Tony’s entire body and he pets the boy’s head as Peter does as told, his hands slightly trembling. It nearly knocks his breath out of his chest. Peter’s perfect. So submissive. So eager. “Oh yes,” he sighs, “-just like that, baby. Sucking me so well.” The older man can’t help himself. He knows he’s threading the border of giving into his kink too much, but with Peter unconsciously initiating it, he needs to have that little taste. He hooks his finger through the bowtie still around Peter’s neck, tugging on it. Peter whines, letting Tony guide him without pausing the movements around Tony’s cock. ““F-Fuck, baby, the things I wanna do to you. My pretty boy,” he grunts, tugging at the tie.

“Mine.”

Peter’s entire body is burning, tingling underneath the dominant presence that’s Tony. He loves how much he praises him, spurs him to go on. He wants to. Never wants this to stop. Every gasp that leaves the billionaire’s mouth, every little brush of his fingers, it sends Peter closer and closer to that mindspace that Tony had explained to him last week. “Peter, baby, slow down for a bit, will you?” “Hmmm?” He moans around Tony’s cock and obeys, slowly bobbing his head up and down while looking up. “That’s right, look at me sweetness. Daddy wants to see that pretty gaze of yours.” Tony whispers, making Peter’s mind spin even more. Tony’s eyes are sweet, and loving, yet demanding in a way that has the boy shiver all over. “Want me to fuck you?” Peter nods desperately. “I could fuck you over the desk, huh, how does that sound? You could call me boss again, I really liked that, Peter.” Tony caresses the boy’s cheek, enjoying the little blush creeping up there. “Or I could fuck you against the window. Show all of New York who your pretty body belongs to.” He tangles his fingers into Peter’s hair gently, tugging the boy off his cock. Peter gasps for fresh air. Fuck, he looks obscene. “What do you want, Peter. Answer me,” he orders, “-honestly.” “T-the window,” the boy chokes out. “Please, boss.” Tony smirks at his newly given name, licking his lips. “Excellent choice, now, get that pretty ass of yours to the window. Hands on the glass, legs spread. I’ll get the lube.”

He watches as the boy scrambles to his feet and walks over to the window. Tony has to bite back a moan when he sees how incredibly stunning he looks. His pale skin shimmering in the New York City lights. “Good boy. Stay.” Tony startles himself with those words and he bites down on his bottom lip harshly. Fuck, he should really get a grip on himself. He shakes his head quickly and rushes off to the bedroom to get the lube.

Once he grabs the bottle, he realizes he should probably buy a new one soon as they’ve nearly run out. It makes him grin. He hasn’t ran out of lube this soon in a long time. When he walks back into the living room and is pleased to see Peter still in the exact same position. Waiting patiently. His eyes are closed and his body occasionally twitches to the music that’s still playing. He walks towards the boy slowly, knowing that Peter must be hyper-aware of his movements.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tony whispers, “-can’t wait to ruin you.” When he’s nearly reached Peter, the boy reaches into his presence. Arching his back real nicely, sticking his ass out a little further. Tony trails his fingers across the soft skin and he leans in, his lips mere inches away from Peter’s ears. “Tell me how badly you want to fuck me, baby boy. How eager are you?” “Oh, shit, Mr. Stark. So badly, please. Been thinking about you fucking me all day!” “Yeah?” “Y-Yeah! I-” Peter cries out when Tony’s hand reaches around his waist to grab his hard-on. “Need you inside me. Please.” “Hmmm, you sure you don’t want me to just jack you off, you respond to it so nicely.” Tony coos, voice sweet as honey as he gives a few experimental tugs. “No, I need more than that. I want you to pound into me fast, and rough, and hard. Claiming me as yours, daddy.”

Tony’s composure is crumbling down with each word the boy speaks. He curses under his breath and lets go of him quickly to squirt a generous amount of lube on his dick, dropping the bottle to the floor. He spreads the lube across his shaft and grips Peter’s hip tightly with his other hand. “The entire city’s gonna know you’re my pretty slut, baby.” “Y-yes. Show them. I want it.” That’s it. Tony growls, taking every little bit of effort to not push himself all the way in. He’s slow. Just pushing in the head and waiting for the boy to relax in his arms. He hasn’t been prepped, not really. He knows the kid’s been using the dildo multiple times throughout the past week, but still. He wants to make sure he’s good. The tight heat clenching around him isn’t making that any easier, though. “Peter, baby, I’ve got you.” He says, grazing his teeth across the smooth neck. “Can’t believe how big you are, daddy! Please, please go all the way in. I want to feel you more.” Tony swallows and complies, pushing until he’s completely inside his sweet little boy. He’s so tight. So warm around him.

“Can you see your own reflection in the window, Peter? See how hot you are?” Peter nods frantically in response, feeling one of Tony’s hands curl around his neck, raising his head and making his back arch. The vague image of himself opposite him has him whimpering, but it’s when he sees Tony’s hungry look- his eyes boring straight through Peter via his reflection that has him buck. He tries to keep still but he presses himself against Tony involuntarily, jolting and moaning. “Fuck, you’re already so desperate. So gorgeous. All of New York can see what a horny, little slut you are for me.” Peter can’t contain himself, moaning obscenely and closing his eyes, feeling Tony’s fingers dig into his skin on his hip and below his jaw. “I’m your slut, daddy, I’m yours, yours alone, please fuck me-”

Tony slowly moves out, bending his hips at an angle before pushing back in. The boy gasps and the thrust has them both move closer to the window until Peter’s chest is flush against it, nipples rubbing on the cold hard glass. “Oh, Peter-” Tony moans, his mouth leaving wet kisses on the back of Peter’s neck. He moves back out again and when he pushes back in, he decides to follow the rhythm of the song that’s playing. It’s slow. And he knows how much Peter hates that. Well, he doesn’t really, but Tony likes to tease. Halfway through the song, Peter’s ragged breaths turn to continuous whines as the window fogs up from their fucking. The glass constantly stimulates Peter’s nipples. Tony’s been leaving hickeys all over the boy’s upper back and neck, quietly annoyed that they will be gone by morning because of Peter’s increased healing speed. And his thrusts…

“Sh-shit, Mr. Stark, Tony, daddy, boss, please-” Peter pleads. “H-harder, faster!” “As you wish, sweet pet,” Tony growls, once again swearing at himself for letting go too much. It does fuel his arousal though, and he speeds up, slowly, knowing which angle to take to hit Peter exactly where he wants him. “R-right there-OH!” Peter opens his mouth wide, a pleasured frown curls his brows. His eyes roll back in their sockets. “Go on, Peter, push back. Help daddy out. Fuck yourself on me.” Tony has to move both hands to Peter’s hips to keep up with the boy’s sudden surge of excitement. A string of short “ohs” falling from both their lips as they fuck each other. Peter’s hard cock bounces against his abdomen, occasionally bumping against the ice-cold window, causing him to gasp at the impact.

Last week, after one of their phone sex sessions, Tony had explained to Peter that men don’t have a G-spot, but a P-spot. Peter said that, though he knew, he liked G-spot more. He chuckled when he said: “My penis is my P-spot.” Which in turn, had Tony laughing out loud. “So you prefer it if we call it G-spot?” Peter was quiet for a second before replying. “I… I do.” “What’s with the pause, kid?” “I- I kind of like the female terms, Mr. Stark.” If Tony didn’t have a cooldown-time on his dick, he’d have been hard again.

He’s been wanting to test other female terms ever since, but they haven’t really had the chance. Now, however, with Peter as far gone as he is, he knows it’s the perfect timing. “How’s it feel, boy? My cock fucking your pussy until you’re leaking my cum-” Peter scrunches his eyes shut in response only able to let out a string of incomprehensible vowels. Tony grins wickedly, pumping into the boy without remorse. Peter’s eyes roll back in their sockets and he’s unsure if he’s able to keep himself upright. Tony holds on to him though. Tony’s got him. Daddy’s got him. “Fuck, so pretty with your tits rubbing all over the windows. You’ll be seeing stars tonight, Pete, and it won’t be the stars out there-” Peter feels like he’s losing himself in the moment, the sensation of Tony’s dick ramming right into his G-spot overwhelming him. He cries out when the man grabs his cock and pumps it fast. “Daddy-daddy-daddy-daddy-” Neither of them can hear the music anymore. The slapping noises of their skin clashing together and their moans and whines drowning out everything else.

“You’re gonna cum all over the glass, baby? Such a messy boy aren’t you?” Tony growls, increasing the pace of his hand around Peter’s throbbing cock even more. “Show me.” Peter’s trembling by now, unable to hold still, unable to form any coherent word. His forehead resting on the glass, just taking everything that Tony’s willing to give him. He’s so close. So damned. close. “I want you to come for me. Let it all out. Come, Peter, darling.” All it takes is just a couple more strokes for Peter to cry out loud. His body tenses, clenching around Tony and spilling himself all over the glass. He collapses, holding himself up but barely. “That’s my boy, good job, baby,” Tony praises his lover and picks up his speed, holding Peter steady. “Daddy’s gonna come inside of you. F-fuck!” Tony grunts, his hips buck forward and don’t move back, pushing into Peter as deep as he can as he releases into his sweet body.

Both men try to catch their breaths as they sink into each other. Tony’s still fully clothed body supporting Peter from behind. This must be Tony’s favorite moment throughout all this. He loves everything; the teasing, the stroking, the fucking. But this, having Peter soft and sweet and fucked-out in his arms. That’s what makes his heart flutter in his chest and want to hold onto this boy forever. “Mr. Stark…” Peter breathes softly. “That… That was amazing.” “Oh, it was sweetness. Best birthday present ever.” Peter chuckles at that, pushing himself off the glass a little and craning his neck to look Tony in his eyes. “Can we go to bed? I want to cuddle.” “Of course,” Tony smiles and presses a kiss on Peter’s cheek before pulling out carefully. Ignoring the strain in his back, he picks the boy up bridal style, making him squeal. “-I’m gonna cuddle you all night.”

--- More: Chapter 7 Masterpost

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jawsandbones · 5 years ago

Text

The Evening Red - Chapter Six

Rating: E

Summary: The blighted plague at your feet, and ghosts at your bedside. Those things that go bump in the night? They follow behind you. If only you had someone to protect you. A late-Victorian era re-imagining of Dragon Age Origins.

Pairing: Zevran x Female Warden

AO3 Link: Click Here

Chapter Six: Murmuration

The sounds hum together in the heat. This cacophony of cicadas, beetles and bees. She is formed of things that are not herself alone. Noya wears her father’s belt, tied around her mother’s dress, and boots which are from Alistair. The stockings belong to Morrigan, the gloves to Wynne. Leliana’s jacket on her shoulders, and Tamlen’s pin sits high in her hair. There is a necklace she doesn’t recognize sitting around her neck, and she lets her hand stretch wide over the long wheat. A blade of it moves between her fingers, tickles at her skin. The sun sticks at her back, burns down her neck. She stands in the field, surrounded by dense wood. Whispered breath escapes her.

She is widowed in the wheat, a strange feeling of hollowness inside her. From the wood, a creature crawls. The breeze moves through, and it carries with it the foul scent of what stalks her. It does not pass the treeline, nor does it move out of shadow. There is no point in cowardice. The boots stick in the mud as she walks towards the creature. The hollowness changes, becomes untenable weight which moves from her lungs to her skull. Her upper lip prickles as the blood begins to fall from her nose. She wipes it away with the back of her hand, but it will not stop. No matter.

She picks up her skirts as she moves forward, sinks low in the mud. There is iron in her mouth, a grisly blood drool. It overflows past her lips, stains the fabric at her chest. She loses the jacket in the field. The boots slip from her feet, staying where they are stuck. The stockings are inevitably ruined, the gloves as she tries to pull her feet free. The pin slips from her hair, immediately swallowed up by the earth. The blood chokes in her throat now, and her breath is more a wheeze, unable to hold air inside her lungs. Her vision cracks, blurs, hums along with the heat. The creature wavers before her. She cannot make out its shape.

She nearly makes it to the edge before she cannot walk any longer. Her hands claw at the mud which seeks to drown her, already cold at her ribs. It swirls, the bloodied brown, and her hair sticks at her temples, her forehead. She pulls at the wheat, but it cannot hold her weight. She is being pulled under. She has lost what was given by the others. When the mud pulls her under, the necklace is all that remains, a halo for a lost head. Noya’s eyes slowly open.

Her bed creaks underneath her shifting weight, and she rolls onto her back. She lets her hand rest against her forehead and watches the way the light presses against the curtains. It would be easy enough to close her eyes, drift back into sleep and the dream which has already begun to fade. She reaches for what strings it left behind, but all she has is some intangible idea of what it once was. A nameless fear, a spectral warning, soon altogether forgotten. Her hand falls back to her side, over the covers. She pushes herself up to sit, feet coming to rest against the floor.

Her elbow presses into her knee, and her fingers run over her lips. She did not expect Zevran to stay. Indications of his presence remain. The chair, fallen in their haste last night, is now righted. The small box which was beside her pillow, now peeks out from underneath her bed. She supposes he must have carried her, as she has no memory of how she made it to her bed. There’s a single piece of parchment on the table. Folded, propped up, meant for to find.

She rubs her shoulder as she plants feet against cold floor, makes her way over to it. Her fingers drift over the four indents in the crook of her neck. There is no blood, and to her surprise, the marks seem almost healed – as if they were days old, instead of hours. She picks up the letter, unfolds it with one hand. His script is neat, flowing, written in delicate cursive. She begins to make her morning coffee as she reads it, smiling at his telling of ‘a most pleasurable evening’. There are also apologies for leaving as she slept and assurances that they’ll meet again soon.

She folds it neatly, leaves it at her counter. The coffee scalds on her tongue, slightly burnt but strong enough. She sits at the table, and her finger moves over a tiny bubble of blood against the grain of the wood. Another, slightly splattered, and she leaves the cup where it is when she goes to the mirror. Cracked and clouded, still usable. She turns, pulls at her nightgown, and the back of it is soaked with her blood. Another thing to be scrubbed out. She leaves it with her clothes from yesterday. The bath is small, cramped, and the water cold. She runs the cloth over her skin, watches as gooseflesh prickles through the bruises which have fully flowered. The blighted hit bluntly, without thought or reason.

Is it Orlais, as Sir Loghain would believe? A plague in the capital of an enemy’s city would surely cause enough damage to render a conquest short. Still, unless they held a secret cure, it would run rampant through their soldiers as well. This tactic had been attempted before, to terrible consequence. Would the Orlesians really gamble on such a thing? King Cailain wants it to be the whim of the world, as untamable as a tornado or earthquake. It could run its course, it could not. Then there is the troubling matter of the blighted being directed. She rests her chin on her knee, and grumbles at being a playing piece – set without knowing the rules.

Duncan had instructed them to stay away from the university, but an inventory needed to be taken of what has survived. She pulls at her hair, does her best to make it into something resembling sanity. Twisted and braided, pulled up and around. The corset fits snug, undergarments loose and clean. A white pouter pigeon blouse, wine colored skirt, with a belt around her middle and a long but simple necklace. Dark stockings run high, and her pointed shoes much the same. She ties them comfortably, retrieves her coat. Fall will give way to winter soon enough.

Noya locks the door behind her, races down the stairwell, her hand lightly on the banner. She finds Alistair at the entrance. “I was just coming to get you –” he’s saying, but she takes his hand from the door, and holds it in hers.

“We need to go to the University.”

“Noya, wait. Duncan told me what happened. I was going to get you food. Take you to brunch if you were feeling up to it. Are you going to the University to work? Even if everything was… okay, we don’t work on Saturdays.”

“It’s not for work.”

“Noya, brunch.”

“Later.” She gives his hand a small tug, a slight squeeze, looks over her shoulder at him. Reluctant but following, Alistair matches her pace. Only when he’s side by side with her does she let go of his hand.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Noya says. “Nothing but a few bumps here and there.”

“Duncan’s barely come out of his study. He’s worried and working on something,” he says.

“Then he won’t be here to get in our way today,” she says.

“About that…”

No one pays them any mind when they reach the University. It’s practically deserted, the medical ward sectioned off. Alistair follows Noya through the servant’s hallways, a way around the guards and those meant to keep wandering eyes away. She brings a finger to her lips as they approach Wynne’s usual room. The glass of the door is shattered out into the hallway. Noya quickly peeks her head around the doorway. Duncan is wearing one of his better suits, without stain or wrinkle. He has his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he speaks. The sight of Loghain’s slick hair twists a knot in her belly.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” She asks Alistair, in a whisper. He frowns, but steps forward, tilts his head towards the door.

“Duncan is discussing what was destroyed. Saying you lot must’ve been close to the cure… sabotaged by someone who wants the plague to ravage Denerim… That a cure must still be worked on. Loghain is telling him that his orders are final and that the work must be stopped. Something about those with a royal permit working on it instead? Oh fuck.” Alistair grabs Noya by the arm, pulls her down the corridor and around a bend.

“Gooday Sir Duncan. Please give the others our King’s sincere appreciation for their hard work, but that is ended now,” Loghain’s voice carries down the hallway, as does the sound of his shoes walking away. Duncan, however, is still in the doorway, boring holes into his back with his gaze. After a moment, he finally sighs, lets his shoulders fall. He rubs his eyes as he begins to move away. Slipping from Alistair’s grasp, Noya makes her way to where he once stood. The theatre is in ruins. She steps inside, glass crunching underneath her shoes.

Chairs have been thrown, the desk overturned. Paper is strewn across the floor, stained with mud and who knows what else. The door to the lab has been torn from its hinges. She doesn’t make her way inside this one. Every glass vial has been crushed. The floor is wet with unknown liquids. Somewhere, in all of it, is Zevran’s blood. “I’m sorry,” Alistair says as he looks at the ruins of it.

“We’ll have to start again,” Noya says mechanically, “and likely without the University’s funds and support, if Loghain truly is shuttering everything behind royal walls.”

“You don’t think one of those researchers will a cure?”

“I think that if they do, they’ll start at the top down,” she says, turning to look at Alistair, crossing her arms. “By the time they make it to Tamlen, it might be too late.”

“Oh.” Alistair sways on his feet, then stiffly puts his hand on her shoulder. She holds herself tightly, and he sighs. His touch relaxes, makes its way to the nape of her neck. He leans forward and lets his chin rest on the crown of her head. “It’s Tam. He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“He will. I promise.” They stand in silence, and he listens to her breathe. When he’s certain… he pulls back, both hands on her shoulders and takes a deep breath. “Can we please go get brunch now?” Noya breaks into startled laughter, rests a hand on his chest, and smiles up at him.

“Yes, we can go get brunch.”

“Thank the Maker.”

---

The afternoon goes quietly. The evening even more so. Dinner sits untouched on her plate, pushed away from her at the table. She is bent over the notebook, pen in her hand. Her writing is not as clean as Zevran’s – far less focused, each stroke pointed and pressed into the page. The language is also different, and she doubts that anyone besides Tamlen or herself might be able to read it. Which is fine – it isn’t meant for reading. So when the knock comes, it’s followed by pages fluttering, the book closing, and Noya shoving it into the nook above the stove.

“No need to invite me in, my darling. I have come to invite you out,” Zevran says, at her doorway, his hand extended towards her and a smile on his face. It’s one Noya matches as she slips her hand into his, manages to grab hold of her coat with the other. He manages to maneuver her so that their arms are linked together, shoulder against shoulder as they walk down the street. Feeble gas lamps do their best to light the way. Side and secondary streets are not lit at all. There are a few others, here and there, going about their business.

“Where are we going?”

“You shall see,” he says, turning to look at her, the smile still on his face taking a more mischievous quality now. “It is not a place many go, but I find it quite charming.” He leads her towards the edges of the city, near the Amaranthine Ocean. Fish takes over from the smell of soot, while most places on the waterfront are closed, there is one still with lights on. A bell chimes when they enter, and Zevran gestures for Noya to take a seat anywhere she likes. She chooses one by the window, looking out over the docks.

There is only one other person in the building. A stocky figure, hair untamed, dark and wild around her face. Her apron is covered in messy handprints – something of chocolate powder, perhaps a jelly for that one. She takes one look at Zevran, and they give each other a familiar nod. Then, she disappears behind the counter. He takes a seat across from Noya. “Do not worry, I am assured the food here is quite delicious,” he says.

“Can you eat? Or is it only…” she looks towards the doorway where the woman had disappeared.

“I may eat, but what you would call normal food is only ashes to me. It has a distinctly disgusting flavor. Blood is all that sustains a vampire,” he says. He makes a waving motion with his hand. “And do not worry about Mrs. Cane. She knows my nature, as I know hers. She is one of the púcaí.”

“What is a púcaí?”

“A shapeshifter. There are many stories of them. Most are about beautiful horses which entice humans to take a ride on their back. They would get a most wild and terrifying journey before the púca dropped them back at home.” Noya smiles politely, thanks Mrs. Cane as she sets an appetizing plate down before Noya, and a single cup before Zevran. Then, she disappears into the back once again. Zevran drinks deeply, licks his lips.

“Ah, strong coffee is the only thing which does not taste of shit,” he tells Noya. She smiles as she takes the knife and fork, cuts into a gleaming thigh of chicken. Maple, and perhaps honey? A sweet glaze, moist and perfectly cooked. The potatoes are covered in gravy, the beans green and steaming.

“It is delicious,” Noya says, “but how many women have told you that?”

“Many woman and men.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Does it bother you? That I also enjoy the company of men?”

“No. I think anyone, regardless of gender, is a fool if they turn you down.”

“Oh?” Noya touches fingers to her lips as she finishes chewing, swallows, and sets her fork down beside her plate. Her own reflection looks back at her in the glass, distant waves only barely able to be seem.

“There are people whose bones are dust, and who only you remember. You carry all those lives with you, through the ages.” She shakes her head, sets her hands down in her lap. “You would think that I would have nothing in common with someone from a hundred, two hundred years ago. Except that I do, through you. They’re not truly gone, because they stay with you.” On the table, Zevran’s hand clenches into a fist.

“And if I do not remember them as well as I should?” Noya puts her hand lightly over his.

“You can share their memory with me.”

“Perhaps another time.” The fist comes undone as he turns his hand over, fingertips fluttering at the base of Noya’s wrist. “You almost made me forget the reason I asked you here.”

“Oh?”

“You are perfectly allowed this, please do not mistake my asking for judgement. Please also do not either think it some sort of necessity for our courtship to continue.” A smile flickers across her face. “I simply wished to know the reason that I cannot kiss you. Everyone has their own, and I am quite curious of yours,” he says.

“If I’m going to kiss someone, then it should be someone that I love.” His eyebrows rise.

“If I was expecting a certain answer, it was not that one. You do not strike me the romantic type,” he says. Noya smiles as she leans forward, rests the corner of her chin on her knuckles.

“Then it will surprise you to learn that I’m a deeply romantic person. I enjoy having sex, and the pleasures that come with it. It seems contradictory, but I believe there’s a difference between sex and an intimate encounter between people in love,” she says.

“A unique stance for a woman of this age,” he says.

“Do you disapprove?”

“Rather the opposite. I will never understand denying yourself on of life’s greatest pleasures,” he says. “Then, Miss Mahariel, have you kissed someone you love?”

“I have,” she says.

“Should I be jealous?”

“No,” she says, “we’ve grown apart.”

“I see. I won’t press you further. Though I would have been fairly put out had a jealous lover made an attempt on me with a wooden stake,” he says. She laughs, and he leans back in his chair, satisfied. Her hand is free to return to knife and fork, eating while he sips at his coffee. He looks out through the window, at those distant waves. The moon’s reflection struggles over the ocean, broken and chopped.

“Are you the only vampire in Denerim?” she asks as she dabs at her lips with the napkin, sets it down over her empty plate.

“That suggests that we all know each other,” he says, playfully. “If the vampire is inexperienced, or careless, there will be signs. I have not seen any, so it could be I am the only one in Denerim. Or it could be that there is another, who is experienced and careful. It is hard to say.”

“Signs?”

“Ah, well, bodies, I suppose. Perhaps thralls – the dead who should not be walking, under the control of a vampire,” he says.

“Do you have thralls?” His face twists.

“No. I dislike robbing someone of their free will. I do not want a slave. The very idea disgusts me,” he says.

“We are the same in that regard. I am one of the Dalish,” she says.

“I suspected,” he says. He leans forward, playfully looks around and drops his voice to a whisper. “Do you have tattoos?” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “Somewhere naughty, I hope.”

“You’ll have to see,” she says, with a smile to match his.

“You are a terrible tease. If you will not tell me, then I suppose there is no point in delaying dessert.”

---

As promised, on the appointed day, Noya and the others stand outside of Duncan’s estate. “I’ve knocked plenty, but there’s been no answer. Do you think he went out?” Leliana asks, standing beside Wynne. Morrigan touches her hand to the doorknob.

“I could break this,” she says.

“No,” Wynne says instantly, disapproval resounding in the word, “Morrigan.”

“If he was missing something for tonight, he would have sent a servant or had Alistair go and fetch it,” Noya says. “In an estate with a master and a ward - there is no one answering this door. We were attacked. The University was attacked. Loghain tried to shut Duncan out.” She looks directly at Wynne. “We should break the door open.”

“I brought my lock picks!” Leliana says rooting around in her carry bag.

“Why do you have lock picks?” Morrigan asks. Leliana only shrugs, and smiles.

“Why do you have lock picks? I have a key.” They all whirl around at the sound of his voice, and Alistair fishes a hand into his pocket. He brings out the ring of keys and steps through them to put the correct one into the lock. “He sent me to get wine. Can you believe it? He plans a dinner party and then forgets about wine.” His other hand is preoccupied with keeping four wine bottles close to his chest. After unlocking the door, he distributes one to each of them. “Duncan?”

His voice echoes through the hallway, and one by one, they all filter through the doorway. Noya keeps the bottle tight in her hands. The silence brings uneasiness, although Leliana is chatting quite amicably with Alistair. Wynne is smiling, contributing here and there, while Morrigan rolls her eyes. Noya opens the door to the dining room, and pauses, closes it almost completely once again. She holds out her bottle. “Alistair. Can you take this to the kitchen? Leliana can help you. You should bring us some glasses,” she says. She gestures at Wynne and Morrigan to hand back their bottles as well.

“Alright, if you insist. This better not be a habit, or else I expect to be paid like a proper servant,” he says. Leliana tilts her head questioningly, but all it takes is one short shake of Noya’s head to send her towards the kitchen.

“Alistair, I was meaning to ask you…” her lightly accented voice floats down the corridor. Once she’s sure they’re gone, Noya opens the door for Wynne and Morrigan. Wynne’s face immediately falls, eyes beginning to well up with tears. Morrigan rolls up her sleeves. Noya does the same, and walks over the threshold.

Duncan sits at the head of the long table. His body is bowed, his throat slit. Someone has placed a bowl beneath his neck. It fills with blood, a foul goblet.

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sinsiriuslyemo · 5 years ago

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FINALLY!!!! Here is episode 48 of Cuba v DR!! With only two episodes left after this, we’re going to do one last giveaway! I know we’ve slacked so much, so there will be more than one winner, don’t worry! I’m so excited to also say that @esparza-army has graciously offered a Nevada PopDoll to include in the giveaway! More on the giveaway later today or tomorrow! Stay tuned!

FUCK IT FEELS GOOD TO BE POSTING THIS AGAIN!!

EPISODE 48

“Check all the exits,” Williams said as he walked through the crime scene. “I want the entire building gone over with a fine-toothed comb.”

They hadn’t found any forensic evidence during their first sweep of the building, but now with Omar Diaz in custody, he could feel that he was on the verge of breaking the case wide open. All he needed was one hair, one fiber, anything to connect Diaz with the murder of Reina Rodriguez, but what he was hoping for was something to connect Ramirez. He hadn’t been able to keep Diaz’s lawyer away for long without veering into abuse of power.

“Captain!” His head whipped around to the sound of someone calling his name. “You might wanna take a look at this.”

Williams followed the CSI tech into the stairwell and downstairs. “Please tell me they left blood.”

“No blood, but…” They got to the bottom of the stairwell and all the way to the back door. “There’s a partial print on the edge of the door. We can run it, see if there’s a match on record.”

“Get it over to the lab immediately, I want it to have top priority,” Williams replied.

“Got something over here!” he heard from behind him. Williams turned to look at a different tech swabbing a spot on the floor.

“Blood?”

“No, more than likely saliva or sweat,” the second tech answered.

“Alright, send it with the partial print and let me know as soon as you have the results,” Williams said.

“You got it, Captain.”

Williams smiled in satisfaction. “Gotcha, Ramirez.”

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

It was nearing six am when you came downstairs to get a headstart on breakfast and Nevada was still sitting on the couch, staring at the wall in front of him. You frowned and cleared the last couple of steps before going to sit beside him. “Have you been sitting like this all night?”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I got a bad feeling about this. Something just...feels off.”

Your brows furrowed. “Off?” You moved to sit beside him and take his hand. “What do you mean by off? You’re making me nervous,” you said with a half smile, trying to lighten his mood but there seemed to be no change in the man’s demeanor.

“I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head with brows furrowed. “Just a weird feeling.”

You nodded, not liking the way that sounded. You had always seen your husband confident and ready to handle things. Seeing him like this was a little unsettling. “It’ll be alright, new day, same shit, remember?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled. “You’re up early.”

“Getting a head start on breakfast before the kids are up, what do you want to eat? You want a big cup of coffee, yeah?”

“Coffee for sure,” he said, nodding his head. “Other than that, I don’t care. Whatever you’re making for the kids is fine.”

“Sounds good, I’m gonna make them whole wheat waffles from scratch today, I was checking this new recipe and it looks so good. Plus it’s healthy!”

You made a huge pot of espresso and poured your husband more than the recommended amount before getting started on the waffles.

“Are they gonna eat that? Kids hate healthy shit,” he replied, arching a brow.

“Well I’m hoping they’ll like it with fresh fruit but worse case scenario I’ll smother it in syrup and try being a good mom tomorrow instead.”

“Good luck,” he replied. His cell phone rang and he immediately answered as he sat upright. “Chibby, give me good news.”

You turned your head and watched your husband’s face for a reaction. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever seen him this worried. It was beginning to scare you a little.

“Good,” he replied, standing up. “No, no. I’ll go see Jasper, you guys stay on Omar and this Williams fuck. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and grabbed his jacket, taking a large gulp from his coffee and bringing the mug to the sink.

“Found Natalia, that bitch is fucking dead,” he spat, tugging his leather on.

“You found her? That’s great right?” You stepped in closer with a frown. “You haven’t slept in at least 30 hours, Nevada. Can someone else go get her? You can rest a little? No one is functioning at full capacity without sleep. Not even you.” You were worried, he was burning the candles at both ends. You gripped tight to his leather and pressed in closer.

“I’ll be fine. I wanna finish this,” he replied. “I’ll sleep after we get Omar out.”

You nodded and tugged him closer. “Please be careful,” you whispered and leaned in, pressing your lips together with his. You didn’t usually smother him in affection anymore but his mood about this was scaring you. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Stay a few more minutes,” you pleaded against his lips.

“I can’t, I gotta catch her while she’s not expecting us,” he replied. “I’ll be back soon, promise.”

You nodded slowly, pulling back, clearly sad to see him go. “Okay,” you whispered. “I love you…”

“Love you, too.” He kissed your lips and walked to the door, turning to give you a wink before he left.

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

Roxie loved a chance to have lunch with her mother. After their initial reconciliation, she had grown very close with her. Despite that, they didn’t often get a chance to be alone together, which was a shame.

She sat across from her mother at the nearest table in the cafe, smiling and ordering them both a raspberry tea and a glass of white wine.

“This is nice, Roxanne,” Helena said, smiling back at her daughter. “I’m glad to be able to have some time for just the two of us.”

Roxie nodded happily. “I’m glad too. I was hoping we could have some alone time.” When they brought the drinks they both ordered their meals. “I wish we could stay longer, I have to be on set in about an hour, otherwise I would love to spend the whole day together. Just one girl’s day, you know?”

Girls day used to be about her, you and Amber. Now it would be just her and Josie. Which was fine, she was just a little...sad. She had loved spending time with Amber and you together. But she had to think about her family now, that’s what mattered.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Helena asked, noticing the expression on the younger woman’s face.

“I’m just thinking about how I had to say goodbye to a friend. I really cared for her, but she was toxic for my life. So I let her go. But I’m still sad about it, you know?”

Helena nodded softly. “Well, if she was toxic, then I doubt she was a very good friend. But I’m sorry she wasn’t who you thought she was. It’s understandable to miss the friendship.”

Roxie nodded. “It was sad, but it was definitely for the best.” The waiter brought over some biscuits, making her sigh contently. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“I am too,” Helena replied. “Is everything alright with Rafael? He seemed quiet the last few days.”

“Rafael decided to resign,” she said nervously. “He seems at peace with the idea. After all the rumors he doesn’t want his reputation to get in the way of someone else’s justice. And I think he wants to stay at home with Liam. I want to support him no matter what, I’m just so nervous he will grow to regret this decision.”

“I see,” Helena replied. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure he put a lot of thought into the decision. I remember how passionate you told me he is about his job.”

“He is so passionate, I’m so proud of him for always doing what he believes is right. Not many people have that same conviction.” She sipped her raspberry tea and sighed. “I’m going to chat with him later and see if he still feels it’s the best option, if he does then I guess we’ll adjust for whatever comes next.”

“Would you rather he didn’t resign?”

“I would rather he didn’t because I know he loves his job, but other than that I don’t have a preference either way. I just want him happy and lately that job hasn’t made him very happy. Not since that slag made all those allegations.”

“Well, then maybe you do without the chat,” Helena replied, bobbing her shoulders. “After all, he’s already made his decision, what’s the use in talking about it again? I’m sure if something changes for him, he’ll speak with you about it. You are his wife, after all, darling.”

“That’s true,” Roxie said with a nod. “Yeah you’re right, this is his choice. I’ll leave it up to him.”

As the server brought their food over, Roxie’s phone buzzed and she sighed. She’d been losing patience with work lately and put the phone on silent.

“Did you need to get that?” Helena asked, sprinkling pepper onto her salad.

“I’m sure they can manage without me for a few hours. We have some new staff at the bakery and they get nervous and call me for everything instead of the manager. They need to learn to call the manager.”

Helena chuckled. “I’m proud of you, Roxanne. Opening a successful business and building a brand from something you’re passionate about.”

“I’m so happy,” Roxie answered. “I worked so hard and did everything I could to make this business a reality.”

“I know you did,” Helena replied. “And now you have a beautiful family and get to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“I just feel like...I don’t know. My whole life has led up to this career. I fought tooth and nail, working job after job to get it and now that things are running so smoothly...I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel as if maybe if I keep control of everything, it won’t.”

“Oh, I know that feeling,” Helena replied with a fond smirk. “That was exactly how I felt after mine and your father’s business took off. After you were born, I thought I could keep going that way, then came Isla and after a few months, I realized that I was missing everything. I’d missed all your firsts, I’d missed most of your sister’s as well. And the worst part was that I didn’t know how to fix it. You can’t live your life that way, Roxanne. Don’t make the same mistakes that I did. Part of running a successful business is appointing people who are competent to maintain your standards so that you don’t have to sacrifice what's important to you. Trust your instincts, sweet girl, and know that you’ve hired the right people to represent your brand.”

Roxie bit her bottom lip. Her mother was right. “I...I know we are only starting to get close, I love that so much. But there is still a part of me that’s angry. I was a child and I took care of my sister like she was my own child. I always had more responsibility than a normal teenager ever would have. It made me who I am, and I’m grateful for that. But sometimes I’m still a little upset.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Helena replied, setting down her fork to give her complete attention to her daughter. “I wasn’t a very good mother most of the time, I know that. But the one thing I am proud of is that neither of you ever wanted or needed for anything. You always had a roof over your heads, food on the table, clothes on your back. At least I got that right.”

Roxie smiled softly. “Yes, you did. Deep down, I always knew you loved us. Even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself all the time.”

“I did,” Helena answered, nodding. “I do. And now that I have a second chance to have a real mother and daughter relationship, I promise you I will not take it for granted again.”

Roxie smiled. “I love you too. I resented you for so many years but...now that I’m in your position, I just feel like I owe you an apology. This is so hard, every day it’s a balance between the job I love and the family I love and it can be suffocating.”

“I understand,” Helena replied. ‘You’ll see, it’ll get easier the older Liam gets. Or so I’ve heard.”

Roxie smiled at her mother before her phone buzzed again. “That’s my work. They need me at the set for filming...do you want to come along, mum?”

Helena’s eyes lit up and she nodded. “I would like that very much.”

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

With Liam strapped to his chest in a baby carrier, Rafael took the elevator up to the sixth floor at One Hogan Place. He had one hand against his son’s back and the other was holding his resignation letter. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he rocked his son as he waited for the doors to slide open.

“Should've brought your stroller, Liam. I just realized that I won’t have the hands to carry a box of my stuff out of my office,” he mumbled, kissing the infant’s head.

Stepping into the hallway, he made his way towards his office, smiling at Carmen once he reached her desk.

“Hello,” he chimed, grinning at her.

“Mr. Barba! And Liam!” She looked to the baby and giggled. “So handsome, look at you,” she cooed. “He looks just like Roxie.”

“Thank god for that,” Rafael replied with a smirk. “I have to tell you something and I want you to know, it has nothing to do with you. It’s something I’ve been considering for a long time and now that this little guy is here, it just feels like the right thing to do.”

She shot him a nervous look. “Is everything okay, Mr. Barba?”

“Yeah, everything is great, I just prefer that you hear this from me,” Rafael replied. “I’m resigning.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why? Because of the article? Mr. Barba, it was a tabloid,” she said, frowning. “Everyone here knows it’s a lie.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Rafael replied. “And even if it was, the innuendo would always be there and I don’t want it to affect any future cases. Besides, Roxie’s career is just starting to take off and someone needs to be home with Liam, that’s a job I’m more than ready to have.”

Carmen looked about to argue before sighing and nodding. “We’re going to be lost without you here,” she said with a sad smile. “No other boss is ever going to compare.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he replied “Whoever replaces me will be lucky to have you watching their back.”

She smiled. “You better keep in touch.”

“Course I will,” he answered. “You wouldn’t wanna hold a baby while I go drop off my resignation letter and pack up my things, would you?”

“Oh, please give me that baby,” she pleaded.

He snorted and unbuckled Liam from the carrier, carefully handing him to Carmen before he pulled off the straps and set the carrier on her desk. “Good to know you like babies.”

She bounced the baby in her arms. “Look at you, you are so much cuter than your daddy,” she teased. She looked at him, sad to see him go. “You’ve always been a bigger person than the others around here. No one would do what you’re doing now. I have...so much respect for you. I always have.”

Rafael smirked at her. “Thanks for saying that.” He looked down at his son. “Okay, Liam, you behave. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Looking up at Carmen, he took the diaper bag from his shoulder and added, “If he gets fussy, his pacifier is in here, side pocket. I won’t be long.”

She nodded, happy to hold the baby in her arms, he was too cute. She watched her boss move out of sight and sighed to the baby.

“Your daddy is one of the best men I know,” she said softly.

Rafael made quick work of packing his things into a box. If he were being honest, he didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to be. When he was done, he went back out to where Carmen and Liam were.

“Was he talkative?” he asked.

“He’s a sweet talker already.” She smiled down at the baby.

Rafael chuckled, taking Liam from her and smelling his butt. “Think he needs a change. You wanna see where daddy spent most of his time before he met mommy?” he asked as he grabbed the diaper bag and walked back into his office.

The baby’s eyes opened and closed, focused mostly on Rafael as his little lips parted as Carmen followed close behind.

“You don’t think you’ll go a little stir crazy alone with Liam all day? He’s adorable but I’m not sure you’ll leave the house too much.”

“Oh, sure I will. Besides my sister’s kids aren’t that much older, once he gets old enough I can take him on play dates with them. In the meantime, there’s an entire city we can explore together,” he replied.

“Well he’s lucky, he’s living in the city that never sleeps. I assume he never sleeps either so it’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”

“Tell me about it about it,” Rafael mumbled as he put a new diaper on Liam. “He pretty much sticks to a schedule though, so at least there’s that.”

“So he is just like you and Roxie then,” she said with a loud laugh.

“Yep, guess it runs in the family, huh Liam?” Rafael replied, snapping his son’s onesie shut and picking him up and bringing him towards his chest. “He’s a great baby.”

“Lucky you,” she said, smiling and looking around the room. “I can’t believe you’re leaving...have you told Grace yet? She’s so attached to you, it’ll break her heart. From what I’ve heard around the office she’s been thriving lately.”

“No, she and I didn’t exactly part on the best terms the last I saw her, but I’m glad to hear that she’s doing well,” he answered. “She has a lot of talent and a lot of passion, it would’ve been a shame to see that go to waste.”

“Oh, did you guys fight?”

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

“Well at least she’s nicer than the other paralegals,” she mumbled. “One of them called me Cameron the other day.”

“That must get annoying,” he answered. “I hope you don’t let them get away with it.”

“I’ll give you a guess how many times I’ve corrected him already,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, I wouldn't worry. People like that don’t typically make many friends around here.”

“I sure hope not…” She sighed. “Some people honestly have no common courtesy.” She turned her attention to Liam who was starting to fuss a little.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you around okay?”

“I’ll miss you, I really will. And expect me to come and visit this little one soon,” she said with a smile.

“We’re counting on it,” Rafael replied as they walked back to her desk. Handing Liam over to her, Rafael put the baby carrier back on and set Liam inside, fastening the wraps to keep him safely in the harness. “Come by soon for dinner, we’d love to have you over.”

“I would really like that, thank you. And tell Roxie I say hello.” She gave him a smile and then a wave to Liam. “Bye cutie.”

“Say bye,” Rafael mumbled to Liam, before he patted Carmen’s shoulder. “I’m just gonna drop off my resignation letter with McCoy and then I’ll be back for that box tomorrow when my mother in law can stay with Liam.”

“Do you want me to hold Liam while you drop it off?” she offered.

“No, it’s alright, it won’t take me long,” he replied, smiling. “Thank you, though.”

Carmen nodded and got back to work as Rafael went to McCoy’s office, on the seventh floor. Dropping the letter off with the DA’s secretary, he left with his son and decided to stop by the SVU precinct.

The second Rafael entered the precinct he could see Amanda and Carisi chatting at their desks, laughing as they looked over case files. Amanda looked up when she noticed him.

“Barba, Hey. Is this your new edition?”

“Yes! This is Liam, Liam, this is Amanda Rollins and this strange-looking man is Sonny Carisi,” Rafael said.

Carisi snorted a laugh and looked at the baby. “Oh he’s cute, counselor.”

“So is it bring your baby to work day?” Amanda asked with a quirked brow.

“I don’t work here,” Rafael replied. “If you’re asking whether I’m back at work, the answer is no, I’m still in paternity leave...and I resigned this afternoon.”

Carisi was the first one to react. “What? Barba you can’t be serious…”

“I am very serious,” Rafael answered.

“What are you going to do? You practically live in that office.” Amanda frowned. “You love your job.”

“I’m gonna be a father,” he replied, smirking as one hand rubbed over Liam’s back.

Neither of them seemed to want to argue with that.

“We’re not gonna find another ADA willing to go the extra mile like you, Barba.” Carisi looked down at the baby and smiled before nodding. “We gotta get back to work but congratulations on the baby, and we’re gonna miss you around here.”

“Especially Carisi,” Amanda said with a smirk.

“I’m sure I’ll see you all around at some point,” Rafael answered. “Liv in her office?”

“Yeah, she’s finishing some paperwork,” Carisi said with a nod. “Been in there for hours.”

“Well, we’re gonna go say hi,” Rafael said, looking down at Liam, who by now had fallen asleep again.

Carisi nodded and smiled looking down at the baby. “Congratulations again on the baby, counselor.”

“The precinct won't be the same without you,” Amanda said with a smirk. “The next ADA has big shoes to fill.”

“Thank you,” Rafael answered, nodding before he walked to Liv’s office and knocked on the door. “Knock-knock. You got a minute for a sleeping baby and a washed-up prosecutor?”

Olivia turned and smiled. “Well look who stopped in, I always have time for you and Liam,” she said with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wanted you to hear from me that I resigned about an hour ago,” he answered.

She quirked a brow. “Resigned? Care to elaborate? I’m not disputing it if this is what you want, I’m just curious as to why we’re losing our ADA.”

“It’s just time for me to go, Liv. Time to do other things,” he replied.

She nodded. “They will never be able to replace someone who’s had my back like you have,” she said with a smirk. “No one else is crazy enough to take the cases you did.”

“Well, good. Maybe you’ll win a few more then,” he replied.

She smiled at him. “So what now, moving on to a new job or…”

“I think I’m just gonna focus on making sure this little guy is taken care of,” he answered, gesturing to Liam.

She smiled and nodded. “I wish I saw Noah more. Liam’s lucky, I’m not sure what we’re gonna do without you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“We have to be, this new case is a big one,” she smirked and looked at him. “I always thought they’d drag you out of that office when you were well into your eighties, but retirement looks good on you. One hour and you’re already glowing.”

“He certainly helps,” Rafael replied, looking down at Liam. “It’s just not worth it. When I weighed the pros and cons...Liam is the most important thing in my life now. He doesn’t deserve for me to be stressed because of a lie that got out of hand.”

“I understand,” Liv replied, giving her friend a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? She said after a moment.

“I won’t,” Rafael mumbled back. After a pause, they carefully embraced before Rafael left the 16th precinct for the very last time.

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

“Hello, you’ve reached Roxanne. Leave me a message and I’ll ring you back just as soon as I’m able.”

BEEP

“Hey Rox, Liam and I just got home. Just wondering how your day went. We’ll see you soon,” Rafael said as he let the front door close behind him. “Love you, bye.”

He hung up, set his phone down on the counter and unbuckled Liam from his chest. Setting the baby down in his swing, he turned the apparatus on and walked into the nursery.

“Okay, Liam,” Rafael called out as he looked for a fresh onesie and a diaper before he began walking back to the living room. “Let’s get you all bathed and cleaned up for when mommy and grandma get back. Maybe we can watch Trolls or som--”

He froze in the doorway at the sight of a tall, blonde man standing with his back to him next to Liam’s swing. Turning his head towards the door, he still found it closed. He hadn’t heard it open, nor had he heard so much as footsteps. How did the intruder get inside?!

“He looks just like his mother.”

Rafael’s heart sank at the sound of the familiar voice as the man turned around with the baby boy nestled in his arms. Charles Heeley grinned at him.

“Hello, Rafael. It’s so good to see you.”

#rafael barba #Nevada ramirez #cuba v dr #law and order svu #trouble in the heights

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peace-coast-island · 5 years ago

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Diary of a Junebug

Hanging around an old timey town

If I were to describe Tenney in one word, it would be cloudy. Idyllic would probably be more accurate, but I feel like that’s too vague. Cloudy’s a bit of an unusual description, I admit - especially when it's not used to describe the weather.

What I mean by cloudy is that it’s a charming, almost dreamlike place. Like a mix of cottagecore aesthetics with the gardens and woodland creatures as well as colorful pictures of the sky in various shades of pastel. Imagine sitting outside, surrounded by flowers underneath a colorful sky, getting lost in a book while the breeze blows gently in your direction and the sun beams gently from above.

When you visit a place like Tenney, a day trip does not do it justice. No, in order to get the full idyllic, cloudy, and zen experience, you need to be there for at least two days. A short escape to turn to when you need a break. Spending the hours doing mundane stuff that’s rewarding really goes a long way.

I’m here with Jenny, Clarry, Lyndi, and Louie, who are in need of a vacation. The four came over from Chariott, where they were helping their uncle Ludwig move into a new house.

Ludwig is what happens when you combine a mad scientist, a chaotic inventor, a mischievous magician, and a disaster bisexual into one lanky bespectacled guy. He’s either super brilliant or beyond baffling or somewhere in between. Either way his chaotic energy is contagious. Pretty much everyone in he’s ever spoken to told him “Ludwig no!”, in which he responds with “Ludwig yes!” and the results wildly vary depending on whether or not explosions were involved.

So the family has been spending the past week helping Ludwig bring various gadgets and gizmos from various labs scattered across the globe as well as some that are outside of that scope. After spending over a decade as a traveling adventurer/scientist, Ludwig decided that it was time to finally settle down. Chariott was his second choice, a remote island off the Diamond Coast, not too far from uncharted territory. His second choice was Rainbow Shores, another remote island, but it’s one of many places where he’s sorta banned from - meaning he can visit but not overstay his welcome.

Not surprisingly, Ludwig underestimated how many labs he set up so Jenny called up some reinforcements like Isabelle and us campers. Turns out he has a base not too far from Wizpire so we spent a day there packing all his stuff. While I find Ludwig’s stuff to be fascinating, going through everything and putting them in boxes felt like sticking my hand in a sink full of dishes to find utensils and not knowing there’s a knife in there. A couple explosions aside, it went smoothly.

Louie and the triplets have been helping Ludwig for two and a half weeks straight. Finally, two days ago, they were done. The place is still a mess, but Ludwig has his own ways and insisted that his nieces and nephews take a break.

That’s why I planned this trip for them. Then after spending a couple days at Tenney, they’ll be staying at the campsite on the newly renovated second floor of the cabin for a week. Knowing Jenny, she’s made a mile long itinerary, and knowing her sisters and cousin, they won’t stick to it. I’m sure we’ll find a happy medium.

We left Chariott around 5 am with Jenny insisting on driving the whole way since the others were passed out in the back. I offered to take over but she declined, which I didn’t mind too much since she’s a morning person and I’m not. Though I feel kinda bad for having her drive since she’s supposed to be relaxing - then again, she does find driving relaxing, especially on a day like today when there’s no traffic and we’re taking the scenic route.

From Chariott to Tenney, the drive took about three hours. Once we got settled in the Bed and Breakfast, we were ready to take on the day!

One of the things I love about Tenney is the outdoor workshop classes it offers. From cross breeding flowers to hand lettering to culinary arts to building carriages - there’s no limit to what kind of new skills you can pick up!

We went to a morning workshop session, where Jenny and I made journals. As in we made our own paper, made the covers with linen we designed, hand stitched the pages - literally the whole thing is made from scratch! It’s a lot of work, but I enjoyed it a lot. Clarry made a bunch of cute stickers while Lyndi and Louie hung out at the beach, where we met up after we finished making our creations.

Around noon we set up a picnic at the beach, taking the time to enjoy the sights and sounds surrounding us. The food, like pretty much everything in this town, is made from scratch. Fragrant jasmine rice from the fields, fruits and veggies picked at the peak of ripeness, flour from the wheat fields to the mill - it’s amazing how much work is put into everything!

A while ago I started following Lia Yi, a vlogger from Tenney who makes videos about her everyday life. Watching her bake bread or work on her garden or using her handmade paints to decorate a canvas while classical music (pieces composed by her) plays in the background is super relaxing. We had the pleasure of meeting her while taking a stroll in the community garden, where she gave us a tour and showed us her latest projects.

After lunch we stopped by the library, which looks like a greenhouse except it’s full of books, and hung around the lounge for a couple hours. Lying on a branch surrounded by vibrant greens and pastel pinks while on my laptop listening to music and scrolling social media makes me feel like I’m one of those lo-fi girls. Speaking of which, I’ve been really into lo-fi lately and it’s been doing wonders with my creative output in terms of art journaling.

Then we headed to the orchard/bakery where we picked fruits and made pastries. It was super cool to see how much work goes into making lemon poppyseed muffins and cherry pies because, like I said, everything is made from scratch! We also learned how to make lingonberry jam, rose, and ice wine, which was super cool as well.

The villagers are always more than happy to show us around and teach us how to make stuff, another reason why I enjoy visiting Tenney. Even making dough at the bakery (something I have a love/hate thing with) was more relaxing than usual. Something about going back to our roots and doing things the old fashioned way - I guess doing all this stuff by hand is kinda like a form of mindfulness.

Before we knew it, night had come. Since we were at the bakery, we made dinner paired with rose and dessert. A quick trip to the B&B to drop off the jam and wine crates and a walk around town square followed, leading to a two hour karaoke session at the rec center.

Clarry’s latest hit, Somewhere in Your Mind, was one of the selections on the machine, which she found flattering. When she came up to sing it to see what would happen, a couple villagers immediately recognized her and she gave her fans the VIP treatment.

It took a couple cocktails but Clarry convinced me to step up to the stage and sing some tunes. I like watching people sing karaoke but ask me to go up there I’d be like no way. Unless I’m in a group and/or slightly buzzed, then maybe.

So we hung out at the rec center until it closed around 1. After karaoke, we went to the arcade, where Louie and I fought to the death in a sword fighting game, Jenny had to wrestle Lyndi away from a VR game when things got too intense, and Clarry beat the high score in a ukulele game.

Then we got back to the B&B, where we hung out a bit at the lobby sharing drinks and stories for about an hour before heading off to bed. Jenny’s starting an internship at Viola Francois in August and she’s super hyped about that. Clarry has been busy with her newest songwriting partner on her upcoming album planned to be out next year. Lyndi started getting into tik toks and has been making a bunch of vids that have gone viral. And Louie’s taking it easy after surviving freshman year at Seashore Path as well as reconciling with his uncle, who he has a love/hate relationship with.

Maybe it’s because I’m super tired, but this bed feels like I’m floating on a cloud. The mattress’s even kinda lumpy like one - and super soft too, I must say.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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plane-lord · 6 years ago

Text

32 Days Since Titan

So, here’s the finished fic I was working on before I saw Endgame. I’ve done a little tweaking, but it’s canon compliant. Still working through my feelings, this helped a little...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601774

Thirty Two Days...

It’s been thirty-two days since Titan. Nine since Tony Stark returned to Earth, and the Avengers compound, half dead, starving, and dangerously dehydrated. Three days since he was released from medical. He isn’t up to full strength yet, and tires easily; which is how he’s found himself waking up from yet another nightmare, this time on his sofa. Part of him wants to blame Pepper, for being so blunt and telling him he needs to face his feelings, honor Peter, not hide the memory of him away.

Leave it to Pepper, to hit him with the hard truth — Lord knows she’s the only one he will listen to, even though he won’t always admit it. Ever since he’s returned to some semblance of health, he’s been trying to “forget” the kid, well avoid really, he doesn’t think he can ever forget. He hasn’t returned to his lab, because he knows he’d see the last thing he and Peter were working on — the kid’s unfinished project spread across his designated table.

Tony is desperately trying to hold on to what he does have left — Pepper, Rhodey, the remaining Avengers — though he’s kept the latter at a safe distance, not interacting with them much after their brief reunion. He thinks maybe if he focuses on the things he does have, he’ll be able to have a life, make things better for the people who are left.

Tonight though... well, Pepper, aided by a couple glasses of wine, managed to get Tony to talk. He told her every horrid detail. Fessed up to his feelings of total inadequacy, how he was so desperate to hold on to what he did have left — her, Rhodey, Happy — that he didn’t dare think about how he might fix things, bring them all back. He didn’t think he had it in him to face another loss, another failure — because losing again might mean losing Pepper and he couldn’t do that. Ever.

Tony pushes himself into a seated position, elbows on his knees, head in hands, and tries to catch his breath. God he was getting sick of this — Peter (and Thanos) haunting his dreams. He must have fallen asleep soon after Pepper left him to stew in his thoughts.

It was a variation of the same nightmare that has been haunting him since he left that god forsaken, hell hole of a planet, with Nebula. This time they were at Peter’s graduation party. They were all having a good time, Pepper with their future baby. May, Happy, everyone there bursting with pride for Peter and celebrating the momentous occasion. And then like every nightmare since that day on Titan Tony hears a quiet, “Mr. Stark…” When he turns to find Peter, he watches helplessly as every single person disintegrates, turning to dust. The plates of food and drinks fall, the sounds of shattering porcelain and glass echoing as they hit the floor, mixing with the dust — leaving Tony alone and screaming in horror.

Tony squeezes his eyes shut, “It’s just a dream. Just a dream.” He says it out loud to reassure himself, trying to get his breathing under control, trying to stave off a panic attack. He hates this. With a trembling hand, he wipes the sweat from his forehead and stands up. He needs a drink.

The wine glasses and bottle from earlier are on the counter, where Pepper left them. It’s not quite the potency he needs, but there’s still some Malbec left in the bottle. He pours himself half a glass and downs it quickly.

After a few minutes, when the tremors in his hands lessen — he decides to start cleaning up the kitchen, to give himself something else to think about. Tony’s focus on the mundane task slowly work to calm him. He takes his time washing the stemware and cheese plates. He is careful and precise as he dries each dish, before putting them away. He throws away the empty wine bottle and wipes down the counter, just like he'd seen Pepper do. Satisfied with the now spotless kitchen he notices the wine opener still sitting out. He opens several drawers, trying to remember where it’s supposed to go. He really wishes Pepper would stop rearranging the kitchen, he can never find anything.

Opening the third drawer, which he quickly realizes is a junk/mail drawer he spots a rectangular object. He pulls out a black 5x7 picture frame and flips it over. His grip tightens and his eyes get a little cloudy when he sees the photo of him and Peter, each throwing up bunny ears behind the other’s head.

Tony remembers the day clearly, nearly eight months ago...

———

Sometime in early August 2017

Tony’s phone dings several times in a row, notifying him of incoming text messages. He picks it up with a scowl, there is only one person that would blow up his phone this early in the morning. “I’m beginning to regret giving the kid my number.” He grumbles to Pepper, who's sitting in the stool next to him at their kitchen island. “I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee.”

Pepper rolls her eyes, as she finishes her last bite of yogurt, “Oh please, you love the attention.”

“I do not,” He scoffs. Opening the phone he scrolls through the texts. “Pepper, this kid — he wants to know what I’m wearing!”

Pepper laughs and stands up, picking up her bowl. She pauses on the way to the sink to kiss him on the cheek, “So, tell him. He’s just excited, Tony. Today is a big deal for our interns. I thought you were all about encouraging young minds.”

“Uh, yeah, in the abstract, hands off, pat on the back, move along sense. Not this, teenage — tell me what you’re wearing to the dance — nonsense.”

“Oh stop being such a grump and just tell him. He adores you, Tony. Peter’s just nervous and wants to make a good impression.”

And God did that statement terrify him. Tony Stark was not meant to be a role-model or adored — especially by young, impressionable teenage minds. He was a fuck-up of monumental proportions and he was certainly not cut out for this. He was fumbling through this mentorship and terrified of messing up.

“Fine. I’ll tell him, but know that I am doing so under extreme duress.”

Pepper poured herself another cup off coffee, ignoring his dramatics, she says sweetly, “Yes, dear, whatever you say.”

Tony shoots her a disapproving glare, letting her know he does not appreciate her sass. He types out a quick text.

A black cotton t-shirt and gray sweat pants. You?

A few seconds pass, before Peter’s reply comes through. Hahaha… I MEAN for the luncheon today!

Tony taps out a reply, a mischievous smile on his face. God, he loves teasing this kid. Oooh…dress is formal. I’m wearing a tux.

Uhh, would you believe my tux is still at the cleaners? ? 😳😳😳

Oh well, guess you’ll have to skip it then. Very strict dress code. NO EXCEPTIONS.

The reply from Peter is immediate, Dang, guess I’ll let Aunt May know… she’s going to be so disappointed. 😿

Oh? Don’t want to disappoint Aunt Hottie. Guess we can make an exception, this once... Dress is business casual. I’m wearing jeans, T-shirt, blazer.

Haha, thanks Mr. Stark! I think I can pull something like that together. Happy is picking us up? 10:30?

Yup. See you soon. Tony replies.

Clicking the screen off he sets the phone on the counter and looks to Pepper, who is putting the dishes in the washer. “How long does this thing last, again?”

“I think a couple hours. I usually only stay to finish lunch, which is longer than your usual 30 minute drop-in, slash meet and greet.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll stay for lunch, too. You know, inspire and encourage those bright young minds.”

“They’ll love that, Tony. Everyone is always so excited when you make an appearance. And it's a really good group of kids.”

Pepper walks around the counter and wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his right temple, she says, “I’ll see you in a couple hours. Don’t be late.”

“Uhh, I’m never late!”

“Hmm, I literally have documented hundreds of missed appointments, engagements, and appearances over the last twenty years that say otherwise, but sure, Hon, you’re never late.” Pepper pats him fondly on the back and leans over to pick up her purse sitting on an empty barstool. As she makes her way to the door, she says, “FRIDAY, remind Mr. Stark to be out the door by eleven. Luncheon starts at noon.”

The AI responds with an obedient, “Yes, Miss Potts, I’ll make sure boss doesn’t forget.”

“That’s so not necessary — I can tell time!” Tony yells in protest, to her retreating back.

“See you in a few hours.” Pepper replies, as the doors to the penthouse elevator doors close.

“FRIDAY, remind me to get ready at 9:45.”

"Yes, boss."

The luncheon is held at Stark Industries offices in Mid-town Manhattan. For once, Tony is ten minutes early. When he saunters into Pepper's office, to escort her downstairs — he makes sure to point this fact out to her.

High School and College-age interns from every applicable department, and two of their guests, are treated to a catered lunch, presented with certificates of participation. The more outstanding interns of each department are recognized with their own official Stark Internship plaques. The afternoon also includes a quick meet and greet with CTO Tony Stark and CEO Pepper Potts, both of whom give a short speech to the attendees and present the awards.

Tony is just a little pleased to see Peter is given special recognition by the Science and Technologies Department. He had decided that Peter should officially join the high school summer internship program, get the kid some real world experience to add to his college applications. Somewhat to his surprise, the kid had jumped at the chance, offering little protest to the proposal, even though it might take away some time from his patrols. Maybe it was because Peter knew that Spider-man is never going to pay the bills, and perhaps, he really did take Tony’s advice to heart.

Tony tried his best not to show favoritism and mostly left Peter under the tutelage of the department’s internship program head. He would never admit to anyone, that he may have, discreetly, checked up on him multiple times a month. And he can’t say he didn’t, occasionally, pull him away for some ‘special assignments’ in his private lab — days spent working on their own projects and consuming copious amounts of pizza. And maybe, just maybe, he brags a little to Pepper when he reads a glowing review from Peter’s supervisor. Yeah, he’s man enough to admit — the kid is doing him proud.

The luncheon passes without a hitch. The awards are handed out, photos are snapped, and Tony gives his off the cuff speech, a mixture of humor and inspiration for the future. Pepper gives her brief introduction and a message about how important Stark Industries views the Internship programs and all their young bright minds. Most years Tony ducks out after the speech and certificate presentations, but this time he stays for lunch, while Pepper takes the opportunity to get back to her office.

Tony assembles a plate of food and makes his way to where he sees Peter sitting with his Aunt, and to his surprise, Happy, plus a couple interns and their parents. He tries to ignore the shocked faces of the other interns when he approaches the table, “This seat taken?”

Peter raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Uh, yeah. I mean, no, all yours, Mr. Stark. I mean, of course it is because you own them—”

Peter stops his nervous rambling at the pointed look Tony sends him. He wonders if the kid will ever not be nervous around him. He sets down his plate and sits in the empty chair next to Peter. He is mildly amused to see Peter wearing a corduroy sport coat, jeans, and a black t-shirt, nearly matching Tony’s own sartorial choices. He says a quick hello to everyone at the table and tries to give them his attention. He’ll never admit he relishes just sitting next to the kid and spending a little more time with him, sharing this day, celebrating his accomplishment.

The longer he sits the more relaxed Peter gets, even cracking a few jokes at Tony’s expense. Something he never would have done a few months ago. He doesn’t miss the way some of the parents, and teens, at the table look between the two of them, surprised by their easy banter and familiarity.

Lunch soon finished, Tony lingers for a little longer — taking more pictures with the interns and their familes. It’s well into mid-afternoon, when he tries to make his exit. He and Pepper have dinner reservations and he needs to get some work done before then.

Before he goes, May Parker pulls him aside. “Tony, would you mind me getting a picture of you and Peter, before you go?”

“Anything, for you Mrs. Parker.” Tony replies, giving her his most charming smile.

Handing his own phone to Happy, who for some reason, which he’ll have to investigate later, is still hanging around, he says, “Take a couple for me too, Hap.”

Tony throws an arm around Peter, who has his award in hand -- at May's insistence -- and pulls him in close. They smile and take multiple pictures with the award, both getting increasingly irreverent, much to May’s amused frustration. Peter even tries to sneak bunny ears — “Bunny ears? Wow, you are a nerd!” Tony teases, while throwing up two fingers behind Peter.

When Tony does finally leave, he is all smiles, with an extra swagger in his step. He’s not sure when spending time with the kid became so important to him and he’s a little frightened by the implications.

The sound of bare feet on the hardwood floor, pulls him out of his memories. He looks up to see Pepper wrapped in her robe, her hair askew from sleep — it’s nearly one in the morning, way past her usual bedtime.

“Tony? Are you coming to bed?“ Pepper asks worriedly from the threshold of the living room. She hesitates when she sees him and steps forward cautiously, into the kitchen. “Hey, you okay?”

He watches her walk toward him, feeling lost and overwhelmed with sadness. He thought he could move on, he told himself he could, but he knows now that he was lying to himself. This isn’t something he can just shove in a drawer, like the picture. He loved that kid and no amount of denial will lessen the pain he feels over his loss.

“Hey…” Pepper’s hand is on his cheek, wiping something wet from under his eye. She takes the picture from his hands and wraps one arm around his waist, holding it for both of them to see. “I forgot about this… It arrived the day you left. There was a card…”

She reaches into the drawer and pulls out a bright red envelope addressed to “Mr. Tony Stark”. She hands it to him, the envelope already open.

He opens the card and sees Peter’s sloppy scrawl:

Dear Mr. Stark, Thank you for everything you do for me. The Stark Internship made my summer and I cannot express how grateful I am for the opportunity. I know how "excited" you were to come to the luncheon and I thought you should have something to remember it by. Sincerely your biggest fan, Peter

The card blurs and Tony tries to blink away the threatening tears. He drops the card beside the photo and pulls Pepper into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. “I miss him,” he whispers. “He was such a good kid... and I didn't, couldn't —“

Pepper runs a soothing hand down his back, feeling the outline of his ribs, he's still so skinny. “I know. You did everything you could, Tony. I know that, he knew it… and he knew how much you cared for him. Believe me, he did.”

And Tony does know it. He could see it in the way the kid looked at him, the glint of awe in his eyes, that always made him a little uncomfortable because he didn’t know what to do with that kind of admiration. It kills him a little more to know he may never see that look again. He lets the tears fall freely this time, wrapping both arms around Pepper, holding her closer, clinging to one person he still has left…

Epilogue

The next morning he wakes up to find Pepper already gone from their bed. After his momentary panic, he remembers she had several meetings planned for the first half of the day. He stumbles groggily into the kitchen, seeking espresso and a bite to eat — he’s still feeling as tired and worn as he did the night before.

He’s well into his first cup of espresso, and the breakfast smoothie Pepper left in the refrigerator, when he sees it. The picture of him and Peter is propped up on the counter, next to one of him and Pepper. He’s tempted to put back in the drawer, but he tries to recall what Pepper said, about remembering and honoring. Moving on, but not forgetting because Peter Parker is not to be forgotten. Peter Park is loved.

THE END

#tony stark #pepper potts #pepperony #spider son #fanfic #avengers: endgame #Endgame spoilers #avengers 4 spoilers #peter parker

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