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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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The Hint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis submitted by @jasmine11685: Peter gets jealous when you have to flirt with someone on a mission

Masterlist

“Wow.”

That was the only word Peter could say as you descended the staircase in a form fitting black dress. The slit up the side added an elegant touch, something needed for the ball you were going to.

“You look pretty “wow” yourself.” You smiled shyly as you lifted the hem of your dress to walk towards him. “The suit is a nice change from the flannels, though I do love those.”

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words formed in his brain. As soon as you put your hands on his collar to tuck it under his suit jacket, his name was lost on his and all he knew was yours.

“So this is what it’s like to be speechless.” He chuckled nervously as you straightened his jacket.

“Shut up.” You giggled as your face flushed. “Your ties a little crooked.”

“Thanks.” Peter whispered as you adjusted his tie. “You look beautiful. Like, the kind of beautiful that makes you want to cry when you look at it.”

“Thank you.” You laughed again, out of habit. You looked at Peter through your eyelashes as your shaking hands slid down his jacket.

“Nervous?” He asked softly when he noticed your unsteady demeanor.

“A little.” You smiled weakly. “It’s uh, it’s a shame I’m gonna have to waste all this beautiful on some douche who won’t appreciate it.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Peter assured you. “All of it. What is your mission exactly?”

“I just have to get some information out of Harry Osborn. Apparently he’s the only one who knows what’s his father has been doing up at Oscorp. We have to find out his plans before he does something dangerous. Could you help me with this?” You asked as you handed him a diamond necklace. You turned around and Peter carefully moved your hair off of your back.

“Oh.” He said in surprise as he clasped the necklace around your neck. “And how are you planing on getting that information?”

“I’m gonna flirt with him like my life depends on it.” You said confidently as you turned back around. “Because who knows? It might.”

Peters face twitched in confusion as his eyebrows knit together. He felt a white hot jealousy run all the way to his scalp when he learned about the plan.

“You have to flirt with that asshole?” Peter laughed nervously and cleared his throat. “He’s a total playboy. He’s probably never done his own laundry a day in his life.”

“I think I can handle him.” You winked at him as you touched your your lipstick. “And his laundry.”

“I have no doubt in your abilities. I just wish you didn’t have to use them on him.” Peter said, mostly to himself.

“It’s fine, Pete.” You assured him. “I’m actually excited to do it.”

“Excited?” Peter began to sweat.

“Yeah.” You grinned in excitement. “This is the biggest role I’ve ever had in a mission. I really want to do a good job so I can impress my dad. That means I’m gonna have to pull out my best flirting.”

“Your best flirting?” Peter was really beginning to panic now.

“Yup. I need this boy to fall in love with me.” You told him. “Watch, by the end of the night, he’ll be putty in my hands.”

“I don’t think you should do this, Y/n.” Peter blurted. “I think we should get Natasha or someone else to do it. You shouldn’t have to be the shiny object we use to distract the enemy.”

“I’m fine with it, Pete. My dad didn’t give me this role because I’m pretty. He gave me this role because I have good communication and manipulation skills. Plus, I’m closest to Harry’s age. It all works out.”

“He could be really dangerous.” Peter protested. “You could get hurt.”

“I’m really dangerous.” You stated. “And he’s definitely gonna get hurt.”

“Just be careful, okay?” Peter sighed, making you look at him. You walked over to him and cupped his face in your hands, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“I got this, Petey.” You said gently. “I know you’re worried about me, but you have no reason to be. I can do this. And you, Sam, and my dad are gonna be listening the whole time. We’re gonna catch this guy. I know it.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt. If things go wrong-“

“They won’t.” You cut him off. “Go ask my dad. He drew up every possible outcome of this plan and they all end with Harry getting his ass kicked.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded and gave you a smile. “I’ll go talk to Mr. Stark.”

“You just had to believe in her.” Peter grouched as he barged into Tony’s office. “You just had to recognize her talent and trust her enough to carry the mission.”

“I’m sorry. Is that anger directed towards moi?” Tony touched a hand to his chest. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah, I am.” Peter said. “You know I like Y/n and sent her off to flirt with the richest playboy in New York City?”

“Hey.” Tony said sternly. “Playboy is my thing.”

“Why did you have to make her do this job?” Peter whined. “She’s gonna fall in love with him and forget all about me.”

“He’s a criminal, Peter.” Tony reminded him.

“So? Girls love that!” He protested. “You remember how she acted around Loki.”

“Don’t remind me.” Tony rolled his eyes. Peters face shifted back to his forlorn expression and Tony saw how much this was hurting him.

“Look, kid, don’t sweat this mission.” He said as he put a hand on Peters shoulder. “She’s just gonna get the information she needs from Harry and you’ll never have to worry about him again. You can go right back to your little will-they-won’t-they bullshit or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I have a plan.” Peter insisted. “And Harry is going to put a serious wrench in my plan, thanks to you.”

“You have a plan?” Tony doubted. “Ive been watching you pine after my daughter for years. When is this plan going into action exactly?”

“I’m just going to think really hard about how I’m in love with her and wait until she realizes.” Peter mumbled as he adverted his eyes.

“Yeah?” Tony cocked his head. “And how’s that going for you?”

“I think she’s just about to get the hint.” Peter said and Tony let out a groan.

“Kid, just ask her out.” He reasoned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could hear me.” Peter stated. “And then say no.”

“She’s never gonna take the hint unless you actually give her the hint.” Tony reasoned. “Why don’t you try tonight? She’ll be all giddy from successfully completing the mission. Perfect time to confess those bottled up feelings.”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “Maybe.”

An hour later, you were making eyes at Harry from the bar. After locking eyes a few times, you signaled for him to come over.

“Hey.” Harry knocked on the bar twice and looked down at you. He sized you up before smiling in approval and sending you a nod.

“Hey.” You gave him a sultry smile as he sat down.

“You all by yourself?” He asked as he drummed his fingers on the bar.

“I was.” You took a sip and looked at him through your lashes. “Until you came along.”

“Mind if I stay?” He raised an eyebrow as he flagged down the bartender. You made a face as he ordered a drink before smiling at him.

“I prefer it.” You flirted.

“Good.” He accepted his drink and took a long sip. “I don’t like being told no.”

“Then you better give me something to say yes to.” You leaned on your hand and leaned towards him. Inside, you were gagging at his arrogance. On the outside, you were eating it up.

And that made two of you.

“Oh God.” Peter gagged as he listened to the banter through his ear piece. “This is torture.”

Sam, who was standing next to him as they both kept an eye on you, gave Peter a look.

“Relax, kid.” He sighed. “She’s just doing her job.”

“You’re a pretty bold girl. I like that.” Harry cupped your chin before releasing it. “Just not as bold as me.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, grabbed his drink, and downed the rest before slamming the glass down. “How about now?”

“Oh, you are going to get me into trouble.” Harry chuckled and he scooted closer to you. Peter watched in disdain as the jealousy coursed through his veins again.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” You crawled. “Don’t you like trouble?”

“I love it.” He insisted as he held out his hand. “My names Harry Osborn. You’ve probably heard of me.”

“I have.” You smirked as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/n.”

“Why is she talking like that?” Peter whined upon hearing your flirty tone. “She never talks like that.”

“Because she’s not trying to sleep with you, dummy. Thats why.” Sam snorted as he continued to watch.

“What?” Peter snapped his head towards Sam. “She’s not trying to sleep with that guy. She’s just getting information out of him.”

“Yeah well, guys tend to talk a lot more once you’ve tired them out.” Sam shrugged as he sipped his own drink. Pete’s face fell as he stared Harry down with daggers in his eyes.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Peter mumbled.

“Shhh.” Sam waved his hand. “I’m trying to listen.”

“So,” you took another sip from your drink, “Whats it like being the son of one of the most powerful men in the city? Wasn’t your dad like, 25 when he founded Oscorp.”

“23, but who’s keeping score.” Harry shrugged as he looked around the room. “I’ll probably do something like that soon. Maybe something even bigger. I already have a lot of ideas. Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Totally.” You egged him on but rolled your eyes when he looked away. “Do you ever get to watch his experiments?”

“Baby, I’ve seen just about all of them.” Harry bragged as he played with your dangling earrings. “He’s done things you wouldn’t believe. Things that aren’t even legal.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes widened in excitement and you leaned in closer. “Like what?”

“I can’t tell you here.” Harry pulled away suddenly and sighed. “I don’t want anyone hearing.”

“Alright.” You purposefully took the bait. “Then let’s talk somewhere else.”

“Do you know a place?” He played nonchalant as he put a hand on your knee. Peter watched the scene in front of him and looked away.

“Yeah. My bedroom.” You smirked and stood up. “Let’s go there.”

“Bold.” Harry rubbed his hands together and stood up as well. “You’re dangerous.”

You took his hand and lead him towards the elevator, feeling the gun that was strapped to your thigh brush against your leg as you walked.

“You have no idea.” You mumbled. You passed Sam and Peter and gave them a nod as you lead Harry towards his interrogation. Peter looked like he was ready to fight someone and Sam looked entirely amused. You gave them a thumbs up before leading Harry upstairs.

“What’s the craziest thing your dad has done?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. You flicked your leg out and pretended to examine your heels to draw his attention. Harry took the bait and held your ankle in his hands, admiring the fancy shoes Mr. Stark had given you for the mission.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked coyly as he looked up at you.

“Because I like to get a little crazy myself and I want to know how much you can handle.” You shrugged as you shook your hair out. Peter gulped as he listened, feeling his jaw tighten in anger. Tony joined him and Sam at their post and looked around for you and Harry.

“How’s the mission going?” He asked when he didn’t see you anywhere.

“Horrible.” Peter grumbled.

“She didn’t get him to the secondary location?” Tony worried.

“She did.” Sam cut in. “Peters just mad that his girlfriend just found herself a boyfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter snapped. “Maybe she would have been if Mr. Stark wasn’t a destroyer of young love.”

“Parker, quiet.” Sam commanded. “I’m trying to listen.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry folded his arms as he looked down on you.

“You can trust me.” You told him as you reached up to grab his tie. You used it to pull yourself up and off the bed before planting a kiss right on his mouth.

“What was that?” Peter touched his fingertips to his ear piece when he heard silence from your end.” Why did she pause?”

“She didn’t pause.” Sam shook his head as he checked his watch.

“Then what-“

“She kissed him.” Tony cut in while giving Peter an apologetic look.

“She kissed him?” All the color drained from Peters face and Tony felt he was to blame.

“You know the Green Goblin?” Harry asked once you pulled away.

“Yeah.”

“That’s my dad.” Harry admitted, and Tony and Sam quickly wrote it down.

“No way.” You pretended to be impressed. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. He was dying so he invented this serum to keep himself alive. It ended up giving him all these crazy abilities.” Harry boasted, incriminating himself further. “And he’s got this glider that he can fly around on. You’d love it. It’s very shiny.”

“Wow. I love shiny.” You gushed, fighting the urge to punch him in the throat then and there. “How much serum did he make?”

“He has one more vile that he said he’d give to me when I’m older.” Harry tweaked his eyebrow as he smirked.

“So you’re gonna be the next Green Goblin? Isnt he a bit of a bad guy?” You continued to draw information out of him as your fingers danced around his collar.

“Maybe I am bad guy.” Harry shrugged. “Like father, like son.”

Harry leaned in to kiss you again but you dodged it and laughed as you moved away.

“Bad, huh?” You composed yourself so you wouldn’t be suspicious. “What else has he done?”

“He gave one of our scientists these metal arms. They can rip a person in half. Ive seen it happen.” Harry continued to brag and you recorded every word of it.

“Dr. Occtavius.” Tony realized. “That’s how he got his weapons.”

“Thats crazy.” You gasped and played with his hair. “What’s your dad gonna do?”

“He’s basically forming a league of bad guys.” Harry shrugged like it was no big deal. “Guys way worse than the Avengers.”

“Does he have a problem with the Avengers?” You wondered.

“My dad hates them. I hate them too.” Harry scoffed and you held back a laugh. “That’s why we’re gonna wipe them out. New York can’t rely on a bunch of guys in dress up, and we’re gonna show them that.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“With an attack on New York City on the 8th.” Harry told you, and Tony immediately wrote it down. “The Avengers won’t know what hit them.”

“That sounds pretty scary. Will you keep me safe?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he ate it up.

“I can’t listen to this.” Peter took out his earpiece and slammed it on the counter. “I’m going in there.”

“Parker! Stay where you are and - you know what? I don’t care.” Sam shrugged it off and continued to listen to your conversation.

“Of course baby.” He cupped your face in his hands. “It’s gonna be a direct hit on the Avengers tower. A pretty thing like you won’t be anywhere near there.”

“Actually”, you took his hands off your face and dropped your smile, “I will.”

“What?” Harry’s face faltered at your sudden mood change.

“Did you get that guys?” You touched your fingers to your ear piece and waited for the confirmation. “Copy that, dad.”

“What?” Harry’s face twisted in anger. “You’re an Avenger?”

“Look at you! So smart. You figured it out.” You said sarcastically.

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’re an Avenger. You’re my age and a chick.”

“Not just an Avenger. I’m a Stark too. Want me to prove it to you?” You asked casually.

“How?” Harry raised an eyebrow. You gave him a swift punch to the throat that knocked him on his back.

“Like that.” You blew your hair off your forehead as you checked your nails.

“You bitch.” Harry wheezed from the floor.

“You see, I can’t have you and your father attacking my friends.” You crouched down beside him and shrugged. “I’m gonna have to take you in.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Harry swiped at you but you dodged it.

“I know. But this cute little microphone recorded everything you said and sent it to the police.” You pouted and pointed to your mic. “They should be here soon. You might want to wipe the lipstick off your face before the get here.”

“I’m not going to prison.” Harry grumbled as he sat up.

“Aw, but you are.” You said as you pulled him off the floor and put his hands behind his back. “Daddy can’t bail you out of this one, like how he bailed you out of your 17 parking tickets.”

“How do you know about that?” Harry asked as he looked over his shoulder at you.

“I know everything, bitch.” You leaned into his ear to growl.

“No. I’m not going down for this.” Harry broke out of your hold and swung at you. You dodged the first one, but he got you right in the jaw with the second one. You stood up and got ready to fight him as he put his fists up.

“You’re not even that pretty.” He exclaimed as he swung at you again. Right as his fist collided with your face, Peter burst in the door.

“Yes she is!” Peter shouted as he jumped on Harry’s back. Harry threw Peter onto the bed and lunged for you again. You close-lined him with your arm and dug your heel into his back once he was on the ground.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” You asked as you stepped on Harry’s back harder with your heel. “I got this.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Peter panted as he got off the bed.

“You won’t get away with this. I will sue!” Harry writhed around beneath your heel.

“Can it wait?” You asked as you pulled Harry off the ground. “I’m a little busy.”

“It can’t wait.” Peter shook his head as you shoved Harry against the wall. “There’s something I’ve been holding in for a long time and I need to tell you.”

“I wouldn’t even bother dude.” Harry said with his face squished against the wall. “She’s a total bitch.”

“Was I talking to you?” Peter growled before shooting a web at Harry’s wrists to handcuff him.

“Ohhh I see.” Harry laughed humorlessly. “Spiderman is mad that I stole his girlfriend.”

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” You barked at Harry. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please continue.”

“I didn’t want you to flirt with Harry tonight because you can do a lot more than just sit still and look pretty.” Peter began.

“I know that, Peter.” You nodded.

“I also didn’t want you to flirt with him because I was jealous.” He confessed.

“Jealous?” You asked as you put Harry in the hotel chair and began to tie him up.

“He likes you, stupid.” Harry grumbled. You shot Harry and angry look, but when you looked back at Peter, he was nodded.

“He’s right.” Peter admitted , taking you by surprise.

“You like me?” You lips twitched into a smile as you tightened Harry’s rope. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared you wouldn’t like me back. You’re my best friend, Y/n.” Peter said softly. “If you didn’t like me back, everything would change. We’d still be friends but it wouldn’t be the same. I didn’t want to risk that.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned. “I should’ve been more clear then.”

“Do you seriously have to do this here?” Harry whined and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“Clear about what?” Peter wondered.

“That I like you too.” You smiled sheepishly at him. Tony listened to the confession over the ear pierce and smiled to himself.

“There you go kid.” He mumbled to himself. “She got the hint.”

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lunmelia · 4 years ago

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I’m gonna rant for a bit, because after thinking about it for a solid 1 minute Supernatural had so much potential to make Sam and Dean’s relationship with Mary extremely strange, but in a “I just came back from the dead and to a world I don’t know, I cannot handle being a mom to 2 grown adults who are older than me so actually we’re siblings now” kind of way. Hear me out.

Just... imagine. You’re 29, you have 2 sons, one who’s 4-years-old and the other who is only 6 months. You die. 33 years later, you’re alive again but you’re still 29, and you’re faced with your 2 now adult sons, one who is now 8 years older than you, and the other 4 years older. Your sons are literally now older than you. They have experienced life for longer than you have. Your oldest has wrinkles and you don’t. How fucking weird is that!!

Just the... complexity that kind of relationship would have. I did love how they approached Mary in the show, how they had Dean confront her and how we later find out that Amara brought her back just so Dean could face reality and not paint his mum as a saint but like... it could’ve been so much more weird. That kind of situation just calls for weird.

That scene where Mary ordered them dinner should have been so much more awkward and not as comfortable and light-hearted as it was. What if Mary just outright told them “I don’t cook” and they’re like “uh... okay, well, we could order?” and she perks up like “order?” and she’s thinking oh cool they’ll just call the nearest pizza place but no, her sons pull out a mobile phone and they try to teach her how to use the app but she just gets frustrated and doesn’t get it so they give up, Dean orders and they spend the time waiting teaching her how to use a phone. And okay kids are usually teaching their parents how to use technology but this is just weird because her sons are older than her. Then the food gets there and she’s like “why don’t I serve it?” because that’s what mothers do, right? But it feels weird and awkward and wrong because they’re grown men so she shouldn’t have to mother them, right? And they eat in silence and it’s so fucking awkward and all of them know it’s awkward and after a moment Mary goes “... Dean, do you uh... do you still like pie?” and he says yes and it’s a huge fucking relief but at the same time it’s fucking not because that’s all she knows!! that’s all she knows about her son and thank fuck he still likes pie but that’s all she knows.

And just- Mary having a full breakdown because she always wanted to be a mother, that’s all she wanted. She just wanted to drop the hunter life and be a mother and just live a normal fucking life for once and she can’t. She can’t. That life was ripped away from her and now her sons are adults and older than her and she didn’t raise them and they’re hunters and she’s a hunter again and she can’t be a mother. Her sons are hunters and she never wanted that and it makes her nauseous and makes her head hurt. And Sam and Dean find her sobbing in one of the bathrooms next to the toilet and they hold her close until she stops shaking. They comfort her because she can’t comfort them. She only knows how to be a mother to a 4-year-old and a baby, she can’t be a mother to them.

And you know what? Sam and Dean are oddly okay with that. All they wanted growing up was a mother to care for them, to cook them food and be there to hold them when things got bad. But now that they have their mother in front of them? They realise that they don’t really... need her. Not Mary sepcifically, but just a mother. They’ve survived the past 33 years without a mother, and sure it was shitty but it happened and they’re used to it. They’re grown men, they don’t need a mother. Sure, it would’ve been nice but when Mary tried again the next day by making them scrambled eggs with a forced smile they just cringed. They don’t need a mother. It sucks, and they wish so bad that they had one growing up, maybe things would’ve been better, but they’ve dealt with this for the past 33 years and they’re good.

So, okay, she’s not their mum. She is, but she’s not. Really, they’re just strangers trying to get to know each other. And so they do. They spend time together, so much they eventually become insperable. Not in a separation anxiety kind of way, but when Mary isn’t desperately trying to play the mother role the three just click and make a kickass team. They can’t call her “mom” in public because she obviously looks younger than them so when they’re out shopping or anywhere else they just call her Mary and introduce her as their sister. It works, it’s believable because they look related, they are, but no one blinks when they refer to her as a sister.

And eventually they stop calling her “mom” and start just calling her Mary. And “mom” becomes a rare word, a word used in dark moments where one of them is frantically putting pressure on a wound that won’t stop bleeding, or when Mary finally breaks free of the British Men of Letters’ brainwashing. But one day Dean takes a sip from a beer, puts it down and is quiet for a moment before saying “... I think we’ve accidentally adopted our mom as our sister” and Sam just goes “yep” and cue John Mulaney ‘you know those days when you’re like “this might as well happen”? adult life is already so goddamn weird’ and it’s just. that just becomes their dynamic.

She’s not their mum, they’re not her sons, so the relationship dynamic they adopt is siblings. And the concept is so fucking weird but it feels more normal to them than her being their mum. She’s just now their little sister and they’re her big brothers and it’s like “huh. okay. didn’t expect this to happen but okay”

Like it’s STRANGE but I think their situation calls for it!! This is SUPERNATURAL!! Let it be fucking weird!! She’s their mum but no! Now she’s their little sister!! Imagine the humor opportunities!

Mary starts to date and she dates a hunter who isn’t aware of the situation and it’s like Sam and Dean act like protective older brothers and give the person the “you hurt her she’ll hurt you, good luck” talk but also

Hunter: so... ever thought of settling down and having kids? Mary, immediately panicking like should she tell them?? is this an appropriate topic to introduce on the third date? she can’t even wikihow this! she tried and nothing came up!: uhhhh

And also after Jack is born and I’m just gonna sprinkle some baby!jack AU in this, after Dean is like *points to Jack* this is my son and *points to Cas* this is my husband Mary’s like

Mary: damn... I’m a 30-year-old grandmother. I don’t wanna be a 30-year-old grandmother Sam: technically you’re 63 Mary: technically I died when I was 29, was dead for 33 years, got brought back to life and was still 29 so you can shut your face I’m a 30-year-old grandmother Dean: I thought we all agreed you’re more like our sister Mary: not when it comes to being a grandmother. I can’t handle being your mom but I can certainly handle being Jack’s grandma Cas: I’m confused... I thought you just said you don’t want to be a grandmother Mary, holding Jack up: I’m a grandma now

#it's like doctor who 'my childhood best friend is actually my daughter' levels of weird #catch Mary up at 3am frantically googling 'how do I tell my partner that my brothers are actually my sons and I'm technically 64'#spn #supernatural #mary winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #destiel #??? I mean I mention it so #long post #also I guess?? there's lots of words I'm sorry

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lemonpeter · 3 years ago

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🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡

Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

There was always room for accident, though.

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.

So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.

Except for this one night.

He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.

And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.

Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.

And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.

Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.

How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.

Tony didn’t even know.

He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.

She was gone by the time he could see straight.

Thank god.

He never heard from her again.

Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.

He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.

He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.

She never crossed his mind again after she left him.

***

Enter Peter.

Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.

Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.

Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.

He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.

No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.

But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.

He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.

It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.

He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.

It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.

And he hoped that it was mutual.

***

“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.

Like that was actually what was on his mind.

The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.

“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”

Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.

“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.

His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”

The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”

Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-

His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.

Who knew that they both had the same confession?

But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”

When was he ever a good role model?

“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”

“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.

At least it was legal.

“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.

Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”

Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”

Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.

“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”

Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”

“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”

He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.

“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”

Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”

Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.

He was horrible.

“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”

“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.

“Uh huh. We’ll see.”

Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.

Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.

He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.

He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.

It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.

The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.

Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.

“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”

“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”

Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”

“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?”

The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?

“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”

Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.

It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.

“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.

“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.

Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.

But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”

“I- I don’t...know.”

There it was.

Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.

Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”

“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”

He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”

Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”

He said it with such finality.

Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.

Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.

“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.

“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.

“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”

That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”

Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.

He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.

“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.

Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.

Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”

The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”

“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.

Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.

Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”

Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.

If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.

Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.

“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.

“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”

“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.

Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.

He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”

Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.

Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.

They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.

“Fuck me, Tony…please?”

The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.

Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.

It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.

Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.

The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.

“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.

He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.

It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.

So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.

Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.

He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.

“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.

Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”

“Do it again!”

The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”

From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.

He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.

Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.

Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.

“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.

But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.

“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.

Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”

He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.

The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.

Actually-

His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.

He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”

“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.

He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.

He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.

Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.

He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.

It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.

He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.

“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”

Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.

“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.

“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”

“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”

“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”

The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?

Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.

It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.

Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.

But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.

“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”

The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”

Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…

“Are you okay?”

The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.

Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.

Maybe that was for the best.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”

Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”

Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.

He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #bri’s kinktober 2021 #now I’ll go do all the schoolwork I’ve been ignoring lol #if you see this: yes the backstory is heavily influenced by that one rp we did where I came up with too much backstory #yeah

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 10) - Take Care

Summary: The reader gets to meet Danneel’s parents in a somewhat unorthodox way but receives a warm welcome to her surprise. Meanwhile, a minor medical scare makes Jensen anxious that he takes too much and doesn’t give enough to the reader...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Playing With Their Hair

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, minor frightening situation, minor medical situation, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo...

________

One Week Later

“Y/N, can we get orange?” asked Arrow from where she sat in the shopping cart. She pointed at the tubes of frosting and you took one off, handing it to her as you went back to searching for a box of red velvet mix.

“Come on,” you sighed, squatting down. You saw one shoved in the back and you bent down, reaching back to get it. You huffed when you pulled it back, the expiration date still plenty good. “Score. Okay Arrow what other color…”

She wasn’t in the cart anymore as you stood, her bright pink shirt and shorts nowhere in sight.

“Arrow!” you shouted, people from the farther end of the aisle turning to look at you. You breathed hard and spun around, exiting the aisle and looking at the checkouts. “Arrow!”

“Mam,” said a man in a white dress shirt and slacks, walking over with a headset on.

“I had a little girl with me and she’s missing and she was in the cart and I would have heard her climb out,” you said, walking quickly, the man following with you as you checked down aisles. “Arrow!”

You heard the guy talk into his headset when you caught pink and a guy near the front of the store. She spun around and you ran over, the manager not too far behind you. You didn’t say a word when you kicked the back of the guys knee and grabbed Arrow, picking her up.

“What’d I do?” he said, Arrow turning away. He looked more angry than you were expecting and you swallowed, the manager urging you back. “She’s the one that took my granddaughter!”

“She’s not your fucking granddaughter, pervert. I’m her nanny and soon to be step-mom so you can back the fuck off.”

“Step fucking what?” he said, his face going blank.

“Grandpa I told you Y/N’s my friend,” said Arrow. You blinked and stared at the man.

“Prove it,” you said. The man angrily pulled out his wallet and ripped out a picture, turning it around. It was a large group photo but you could clearly see Jensen and the kids in it along with… “You’re her father. Danneel.”

“Who the fuck are you,” he said. You took out your phone and went to your pictures, showing him one of your backyard bonfire from the weekend before.

“Is there a problem?” asked the manager. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes and left.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” you said. He nodded and glanced down.

“Well, I can’t blame you. I understand the feeling,” he said.

“Can we...talk?” you asked.

“I think that’d be best before somebody else gets their ass kicked.”

Fifteen minutes later you had your bag of baking supplies in your trunk, Arrow was playing on the jungle gym and you were sat at a picnic table with Danneel’s parents.

“You guys came down early for JJ’s birthday, huh,” you said.

“We had to come down this weekend instead. Something came up last minute next week,” said her mom. You nodded and took a deep breath.

“I am so sorry. That is absolutely not how Jensen and I wanted to tell you both.”

“I’m old but I’m tough. I’ll survive,” said her father. You looked over to where Arrow was playing, gnawing on your bottom lip. “You said you were the nanny and soon to be step mom. Mind unraveling that for us?”

“I uh, I started working for Jensen in January as a nanny to help with the kids. The relationship part came a few weeks later. We’ve been engaged very briefly. Don’t even have a ring or anything yet,” you said, shaking your head. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s taken him so long to stop feeling guilty for having feelings for me. Please don’t be upset with him. I don’t...I’m not trying to replace anyone or anything. I didn’t want to like him. But I did and I love him and he deserves to be happy again.”

They looked at one another and back at you.

“Good,” they both said.

“Excuse me?”

“We think he deserves to be happy too. He was in such a bad place after the accident,” she said. “He’s sounded like himself again recently.”

“Plus if you’re willing to kick my ass for thinking I took Arrow, that gets you some brownie points,” he said with a smile. You nodded and looked down at the table, swallowing. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Your daughter’s husband is engaged to a younger woman. I wouldn’t blame you at all for whatever you might think,” you said.

“He’s got a lot of time left,” he said. “He doesn’t have to be miserable for it. We don’t want that for him. It’s not what she’d want. He’s doing exactly what she’d want from him and that’s all we can ask of him. Well and maybe stick around the country for a bit so we can see the kids some more.”

“Yeah, no plans to be anywhere but home right now,” you said. You looked over at Arrow and watched her jump off a high platform. She fell down to her knees but got up and brushed them off before she was running again.

“She’d like you,” you heard, your attention going back to the two of them. She was staring at you and you smiled.

“You don’t know a thing about me mam.”

“I think we know the important parts,” she said. You nodded and glanced down. “What do Jensen’s parents think of all this?”

“They know he’s dating but that’s it. I’m supposed to meet them next week,” you said.

“We’ll keep our lips sealed for the time being then,” she said. “What about your folks? What do they think of Jensen and the kids?”

“The kids probably haven’t met either parent yet, right?” he said.

“It’s kinda complicated...I was adopted. My mom died a long time ago. I don’t have a dad or family really,” you said. You pursed your lips and picked at the corner of the table with your fingernail, the air heavy.

“Well we approve of him,” he said. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s very special,” you said. “I just wish something so horrible didn’t have to happen to him and your daughter in order to meet him.”

“We can’t change that fact,” she said. “She’d want you to take care of him, keep an eye on him. Oh and remind him to take a break and slow down every once in a while. He always gets so caught up in work and being on the go. She had to calm him down sometimes.”

“I have noticed that trend,” you said. “I hope you don’t feel like he’s going to forget-”

“No we don’t worry about that. If we learned anything from this it’s just that you have to live while you have the chance,” he said as Arrow ran over.

“Y/N, I’m hungry,” she said.

“Alright, munchkin. Why don’t we head home and maybe your grandma and grandpa will have lunch with us?” you asked.

“We’d love to,” they said. “We’ll meet you two there.”

“That went shockingly well,” said Jensen late that night when you were having an extra slice of JJ’s early birthday cake. “Those guys loved you.”

“I think we both got a little too worried over the parents situation. Dee’s parents were great, especially considering I nearly broke his knee. I’m really excited to meet yours next weekend.”

“It’s not too long of a drive up there. I haven’t been home in a long time. I’m looking forward to it too,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I’m really glad they liked you.”

“What’s not to love?” you said, Jensen smirking around his piece of cake. “You’re so hard on yourself. I’m really happy they like me too but even if they didn’t, there’s no problem there. You’re allowed to live your life. Dee wants you to keep living it.”

“I still wonder if she was just like ‘this boy is driving me nuts again, he needs a girl,’ and somehow shoved you into my life,” he said.

“Maybe. I mean, it was good timing that I was looking for a new job the same time you were looking for a nanny.”

“Did you ever report that last guy as an inappropriate employer?” he asked.

“I tell the agency but nothing criminal no. I mostly feel sorry for the families. Nannies are stability in the kids lives and leaving them isn’t easy. Unless they’re little shitheads but even then I don’t blame them, it’s the parents that turned them into it,” you said.

“What’d you think of those three, when you met ‘em I mean,” he said.

“They’re all a little shy like you but they open up if they like you. They’re pretty damn funny. They got wit and sarcasm, even if they don’t know it yet. They’re kind and intelligent and they look to you in how to act like most kids. I knew they were good kids from the start.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” he said. You smiled and watched him eat a piece of cake, Jensen tilting his head. “You know they have called you mom before. All three of them. Accidentally but still.”

“Being a nanny has some of the roles of a parent but there’s still a difference,” you said.

“Yeah but you’ve never just been the nanny,” he said, scraping up some frosting with his fork. “Speaking of your sudden thrust into motherhood, the whole kids thing...how many of your own were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know. I don’t need to make a baby to love it. I was adopted and my mom loved me so much. I mean there’s already three of ‘em to chase after.”

“I’d like to have a baby with you. Someday,” he said. You dabbed your finger across some frosting on the plate and sucked on it, staring at him. “I know you do. Y/N there’s no more secrets. There’s never gonna be a secret between us ever again. Sometimes you get nervous but we have to talk about these things and everything. The big choices and the little ones we make together.”

“Honestly? I don’t want you to think I’ll love them less than a kid I make. I won’t. I will treat them all the same but I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

“You told me the day I hired you that I needed to hire someone I could trust, that trust was going to be so important. Y/N, I’ve never doubted your feelings for them. Shit, I’m pretty damn sure you were in love with them before me. And I get it because they aren’t scary. They can’t hurt you like the adults can. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had a shred of doubt.”

“I gotta think about kids more I guess. How many, when. I don’t know that right now.”

“We’ll figure out all that when we’re ready. Just let me know and we’ll come back to this conversation,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You know...hearing about what you did at the store...that’s kinda super attractive you know.”

“Uh what?” you said, Jensen pulling you into his lap.

“You, going protective badass...that’s very, very hot you see,” he said.

“You’re such a guy,” you said while he picked up the last piece of cake on his fork.

“Well we-” he said as you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the dessert, pulling back with a smile. “Oh you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” you smirked. He narrowed his eyes and set his fork down before he was standing and flipped you over his shoulder. “Jensen! Put me down!”

“Do the crime, do the time!” he said, walking over to the stairs. “Hm...what to do with you...ah I know…”

“You know…” you said before he flipped you down onto the couch and plopped down on top of you, catching most of his weight on his hands on either side of you. “Troublemaker.”

“You love it,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, your hands wandering to his hair, holding him close. You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist, Jensen kissing you sloppy and cheeky and like a teenage boy making out for the first time.

“Dad,” said JJ, rushing down the stairs. He dropped this forehead to yours and sighed.

“What is it?” he asked. He sat up and you both looked at her, spotting the pale tint of her skin. “Feel okay?”

“Jensen call an ambulance, now,” you said, pushing him off and going over to her. He sat up and you kneeled down next to her, her lips slightly blue. You put a hand on her chest and felt the labored breathing. “Did you eat something new tonight? Or did a bug bite you?”

“I stepped on a prickly in the bathroom a minute ago,” she said.

“Jesus,” said Jensen as he rushed into the kitchen. “She got stung by a scorpion.”

He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and started unscrewing it.

“Jensen go see what the scorpion is and get rid of it before the twins find it,” you said. He left the bottle with you and shoved the phone against your ear. “Hi, sorry how much of the anti-venom do I give her?”

“There should be a child dosage on the bottle, half the cap,” the person on the other end said. You unscrewed the lid and poured some out, having her swallow it down. She whined and you didn’t blame her based on the smell. “An ambulance will be there shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, spotting Jensen at the top of the stairs. He was holding his wrist and had a slightly smushed object in one of the clear plastic cups from the kids bathroom. “We have the scorpion.”

“EMT’s should be able to identify it,” she said, Jensen walking down slowly. He took a seat on the bottom step and shook his head.

“Jensen?” you said, his hand reaching for the bottle. You moved his hand from his wrist and saw two dots there. “Shit. My fiance was stung too.”

“There’s a nest in the bathroom vanity,” he said, pouring himself a dose and knocking it back. “I blocked off the door but get the twins out of there, please.”

“JJ,” you said as you saw her color get better while Jensen was getting paler. You took your phone out of your pocket and dialed, handing it to her. “Tell Uncle Jared to come over right now.”

Five minutes later Jared was there, JJ and Jensen sat in the back of an ambulance, Jensen getting a shot of something in the leg.

“We’re taking them to West County,” said a paramedic.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, JJ staring worriedly at Jensen who has holding his wrist again. Jared looked around as they took off and you sighed. “Hey.”

“JJ said she and Jay got stung by a scorpion?” he asked.

“She got one as far as they can tell. Jensen got three. There’s a nest in the bathroom cupboard,” you said.

“Idiot,” mumbled Jared. You raised and eyebrow and he shook his head. “He forgot to get the pest spray done this year I bet. Dee always handled that kind of stuff. They’ve had a scorpion problem before when they first moved in.”

“Oh.”

“I’m gonna take the twins and stay the night. I’ll call and get the spray guys in first thing in the morning. You go take care of those two,” he said. You nodded and he grabbed your arm when you headed for your car. “Wait five minutes to calm down.”

“Jared I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t know it. Go inside, get your purse, Jensen’s wallet, take a beat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. “Make sure-”

“I got it. Go on,” he said. “Make sure he’s not freaking out. Last time he was at a hospital it wasn’t good.”

“Right. Okay. Call me if you need something. And stay away from the kids bathroom.”

“Y/N. I know. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Is dad okay?” asked JJ from where she sat in your lap. Jensen peeled an eye open and smiled.

“I’m okay. Sleepy is all. We’ll be home in a few hours,” he said. His wrist was bandaged and he had an IV in his arm but he’d taken the anti-venom soon enough that they had enough time to get the proper medication in both him and JJ. She was already discharged but you didn’t want to leave Jensen by himself.

“Mr. Ackles,” said a doctor when she walked in the room. “Your bloodwork came back and everything looks good.”

“Awesome,” he said, sitting up in bed. “Can I get out of here?”

“You got about fifteen minutes left on that IV drip but I’ll let the nurse know to start the paperwork. I want you to take it easy tomorrow. Nothing strenuous.”

“I got it,” he said with a nod. “Nothing strenuous.”

“Jensen,” you said around noon the next day, catching him unloading some wood from the back of his truck. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna work on those shelves for the kid’s playroom,” he said. You crossed your arms and he threw his head back. “I feel fine. The nest got cleared out and the house got sprayed. I wanna work on this.”

“You have all the time in the world to do it. Work on it tomorrow,” you said, picking up the wood plank. He tried to take it out of your hands and you growled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Please do what the doctor said and rest today,” you said. He bit his lip and you moved the pieces of wood into the garage, Jensen leaning back against the side of the truck when you shut the trunk. “You’re scared, aren’t you.”

He nodded and glanced at his wrapped up wrist, then down to the ground.

“Hospitals freak me out now,” he said. “I don’t like bugs. My body hurt and knowing I forgot to do something so simple put them in danger sucks. Knowing if she hadn’t come downstairs it might have been real bad sucks. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t know if I would have and it scares me not knowing.”

“Close your eyes for me,” you said. He shut them and took a deep breath, letting you take his hand and walk around to the back of the house. You spun him around a few times stopping him so he was facing the pool about twenty feet away. “Know where you are?”

“Somewhere in the middle of the backyard,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“You said not knowing scared you. Lots of times you don’t know. It’s kinda just how life works,” you said, dropping his hand and moving a few feet away. “Take a big step forward.”

“Y/N, I don’t like this,” he said, fidgeting his hand along the bottom of his shirt.

“I know you don’t. But would I hurt you?”

“No,” he said.

“So listen to me. Big step forward.” He took a step and you looked around. “Jump backwards.”

“What?”

“Jump backwards.” He frowned and took a small bunny hop back. “Again.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Says the guy who plays pretend for a professional career. Now hop back and then step to the right,” you said. He groaned and did as asked. “Jog forward until I say stop.”

“Are you trying to kill me out here cause I feel like I’m about to break my neck slipping in the pool.”

“I’m trying to get your anxiety out in a non-life threatening way, okay?”

“By having me jump around the backyard like an idiot.”

“By having you get comfortable with the fact that most of life is spent not knowing and you can’t change that fact. You can’t see it all coming.”

He threw his head back but kept his eyes shut. He stared to run towards you and you wrapped your arms around him when he got there, Jensen peeling them open slowly.

“See? I wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen,” you said. He nodded and rested his forehead on your shoulder, pulling you into a squeezing hug. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry for being short and not doing what the doctor asked,” he said.

“Hey, it’s alright. I got scared too last night. Everything is fixed now so no need to worry over it. Why don’t you take a nap and maybe we have a real quiet lazy day while Dee’s parents got the kids for the day,” you said. “Sound fun?”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll take quiet today.”

Three hours later Jensen was curled up with a blanket, his head resting in your lap as you watched a movie together. You played with his hair, Jensen turning into the touch every so often.

“I know you’re worried about me,” he said. He turned and faced up at you, your fingers swirling in his strands. “I know I’m kinda clingy today which I’m normally not.”

“You can cling all you want, honey,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I wish life would give you a break for a second. No work, no badness. Just some peace and quiet for you.”

“My parents lived here after the accident. For a few months. They were here, Jared and Gen were over every day, my siblings would stop down every week. The first few months I understood. I had an injury I had to recover from. But I felt like a child those few months once I recovered. Everyone taking care of the kids, of me. I was barely a father to them. Playtime. A story at bed. Someone else made most of their meals, did everything for them.”

“You’re a father but you’re still someone’s child,” you said. He blinked and you shrugged. “You were hurt, possibly the worst out of anyone. I know taking care of everyone else is your default but people get to take care of you too. I get to take care of you.”

“I feel like all I do is get taken care of by you,” he said. “I never give it back.”

“You’ve given me a family again. You take care of me every single day.”

“I never see you getting upset. It’s always me. I’m always the fuck up,” he said. You slumped down and took a deep breath.

“I get upset Jensen. I got upset that very first time we fought, that night with the ice cream. I got upset when you got jealous of that nanny in Canada and we saw my father the first time. I got upset telling you the truth of it all because you of all people don’t need problems like that dumped at your feet. I got upset when we saw him again because I was scared and I was scared he might hurt you too. I got upset when we fought when you got home and I got upset when you proposed because you were so scared and I get upset Jensen. I get upset when you’re hurt. I get upset when I hurt. But I don’t have all those safety nets under me that you do, remember? I just got a couple right now and you’re my last resort. I’ve been my own support system for so long that I can’t undo that all overnight. I know it’s been months but the fact I even let you see me cry, the fact I can even talk about this stuff with you and know all you’re thinking about is how to make me feel better...I still need to heal too. You’ve done so much already. I’m gonna have my moments where this is switched, believe me. But today’s not my turn for that, it’s yours.”

“I love you,” he said, staring up with the softest green eyes you’d ever seen on him yet. “Even more than five minutes ago if that’s possible.”

“I love you,” you said, bending down and kissing him. “You’re the expert on the falling in love stuff though so I’ll leave that up to you.”

“It’s very...it’s what you think it is and it’s not at all what you think. There’s falling and nerves and then calm and then falling and calm and you spend the rest of your life doing that. It’s not magic and it takes work to keep it alive sometimes but all you gotta do is talk. Just talk and it always seems to work out for me,” he said.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. He nodded and smiled as you went back to playing with his hair.

“You know I really like when you do that,” he said.

“I know you do. It relaxes you,” you said.

“Makes me feel safe too,” he said. “But what’s your secret cause eventually I’m gonna want to know them all.”

“I was very attracted to you when we met. But that kinda freaked me out a bit. I found myself liking you a lot that first day I was here. You got me a birthday cake. I realized how kind you are that night. It wasn’t for anyone’s benefit other than my own. I had a crush on you, even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“I had a crush on you from when you made me a cup of coffee. You’re so good and kind yourself,” he said. He reached up and cupped your cheek. “I’m really happy you had your mom eventually. I would have liked to have met her.”

“Maybe she and Dee are hanging out wherever they are.”

“I hope so. She won’t mind sharing me with you,” he said.

“You honestly think so?”

“You gonna mind sharing me with her?” he asked.

“I’ve always shared you. Just hope that wouldn’t bother her.”

“I used to think maybe it would but no, she wants me to be happy and that’s you so you got all eternity to get to know each other eventually if you think about it.”

“Well when you put it that way we got nothing to worry about,” you said.

“Oh don’t worry about that. I think your mom was right. I get to have two people is all, kinda like she did,” he said.

“She would have liked you. Would have said you’re a little old for me but she would have liked you.”

“Wasn’t she older than Ray?” he asked.

“Yeah. She was. She was only fifty,” you said.

“You grew up too fast,” he said quietly.

“Maybe. But it got me here and I don’t think I would have done anything different. I wouldn’t want to screw that up. Well I’d do one thing different.”

“What?”

“Drop by this house, have a conversation with a certain someone.”

“Say hypothetically you had that ability, you’d really do that knowing what you’re giving up?”

“I’d give her back to you right this second if I could.”

“I appreciate that, really,” he said. He let his hand fall down and reach around your back, curling around your waist. “But she’s not more important than you are. I miss her. Everyday. But I lose one of you either way in that scenario. And I can’t choose. I’ll never be able to. If she were here and you weren’t, I’d still be just like this. It’d still hurt.”

“Make me a promise. I keel over early, you try again. Try for both of us.”

“I will if you will,” he said. He held up his pinky finger and you grabbed it with yours. “But he can’t be hotter than me.”

“Equally as hot?”

“Slightly less hot but that’s my final offer,” he said.

“Eh, fine,” you said. “You’ve worn me down.”

“Always words I want to hear,” he chuckled. You slid further down the couch until you were practically laying back, your arms wrapping around him. He got up and lay down with you on the wrap around side of the couch, pulling you into his chest. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Just us.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, honey,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just thanks. For what you said. What you did earlier, just being with me,” he said.

“Lucky for you I like being with you a whole lot,” you said.

“Very lucky for me,” he said. “Very lucky indeed.”

______

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

#supernatural #tell me a story bingo #SPN #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen acklees #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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turniptitaness · 2 years ago

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For personal reasons I need a list of every ben platt movie ever

Oh, you do, huh?

I feel like one of those moms who whips out twelve photo albums of her kid any time some poor sucker innocently asks about them.

Pitch Perfect 1 & 2, 2012-15. He played Benji in case you somehow weren't aware. Just the best part of the entire franchise, is all.

Ricki and the Flash, 2015. Daniel, a small role. Had to act smitten with Meryl Streep, and let's be honest it wasn't even acting.

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, 2016. Haven't seen this one. Bet he's the best part though.

Drunk Parents, 2019. He's barely in this one, but is still easily the best part.

Run This Town, 2020. A wild indie film about Canadian dirty politics. He plays Bram, a baby journalist trying to get a big scoop to prove himself in the industry. Jennifer Ehle has to heartlessly fire him, and she should have won an Oscar for not bursting into tears and apologizing when he looks at her like 🥺.

Ben Platt Live at Radio City Music Hall, 2020. Yes, this is a whole-ass movie. You asked me, so I can count it if I want to. Life-changing, and the next best thing to being actually in the room with him at a concert.

Father of the Bride Part 3(ish), 2020. We love a good Quarantine Project.

Broken Diamonds, 2021. Plays Scott, and will rip your heart out.

Dear Evan Hansen, 2021. Not a word against this film. It's beautiful, and the haters are wrong. Every unbiased person I've forced to watch it (a considerable number at this point) has been blown away by it and terribly confused when I told them the internet decided it was bad.

Upcoming:

The People We Hate at the Wedding, 2022. I read the book last year and y'all. I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS. He'll be playing Paul, and the role is perfection for him. Paul is a funny, obnoxious, sweet, salty, anxiety-riddled basket-case who low-key gets to be the hero at the end.

Theater Camp. If you haven't seen the short film he and his friends made yet, you just won't understand why I am absolutely frothing at the mouth over this one. Two black turtle necks. That's all I have to say. It also includes a wild Noah Galvin, who is practically my son-in-law, so. Excited about that.

Merrily We Roll Along. I'm way too excited for a movie that won't be released until I'm like forty years old. 😭

Allrighty then, those are all his movies, so far. But I can't just not talk about The Politician, okay? So here are his TV credits as well:

Will & Grace, 2017. Appears on one episode as Blake, a "younger guy" who flirts with Will. Hilarious. Oh my god. The most self-satisfied airhead you have ever seen.

The Politician, 2019-20. WATCH THIS. DO YOU HEAR ME. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'VE WATCHED IT ALREADY. WATCH IT AGAIN. OH, YOU'RE BUSY? TOO BAD. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW.

The Premise, 2021 (Social Justice Sex Tape). Oh God. Don't watch this. Or actually do watch it, because he's kind of brilliant in it, but. Have some bleach ready for your eyes. You're gonna want some. His character has a tramp stamp that is very much on display, so that gives you some idea of what you're in for.

Apparently he was also in The Simpsons at some point, which??? I was not aware of????? So thanks for asking this so that I would discover that.

I luff him. Thank you for asking.

Oh, and by the way, I feel like I should mention that when I typed his name into Google, one of the searches that popped up was "Can Ben Platt Really Sing?" which just.

#ben platt #my child

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theregoesmylurkerstatus · 3 years ago

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So... I have a lot of thoughts on the finale. I've deliberately kept my mouth shut, more or less, on the campaign overall because I'm a firm believer that you can't pass judgement -- at least not complete judgement -- on stories until they're over and done with.

Well, it's done! Kind of crazy. I've been watching Critical Role with almost insane consistency, viewing almost every single episode live, with maybe five-ish exceptions, since episode 19, and I've been blogging it for, what, two and a half years?

It's a weird feeling. It's been such a constant thing for me that I'm always gonna have love for it and remember with a lot of fondness.

...Which is in spite of the fact that I can now comfortably say I'm pretty eh on the ending. I know not being positive about something most of us have loved a lot for a very long time can sting a bit, but I personally think it also stings when people relentlessly crow over how good they think it is or want it to be, to the point where you feel you can't voice your absolutely valid upsets or dissatisfactions. So, here goes, if anyone's interested! I'd be curious to see other opinions, too!

I actually drafted a post talking about my overall frustrations with the campaign a whole two weeks ago, and then scrapped most of it when 140 blew me out of the water. I was really touched, and really happy. I hadn't expected it, but it shockingly felt right, you know?

Unfortunately 141 robbed me of most of that satisfaction and brought me right back to neutral.

The blanket statement you have to make, of course, is that you can’t criticise this as a DnD game, and you can’t be mad at the cast for playing it in a way they think is best for them. They’re the players, Matt’s the DM, and in the end it makes no sense for them to try to make themselves act how they think the audience wants them to, and I’m sure most of the audience wouldn’t like the result anyway.

That said, there is an audience. And that’s where I see this clash coming in. As a DnD game, as long as the players and DM have all enjoyed it and been satisfied, it’s a successful game! But for us, it’s not a DnD game. For us, we’re watching a story be written in real time through the medium of an RPG. And while as a DnD game you can’t fault it, as a piece of media, I completely get why the way things have gone has sat weirdly for a lot of people.

It's not satisfying to see so many character hooks dealt with so quickly or left as an offscreen "and then you do it." If they don't want to keep playing to dive into it, absolutely, but for us who have been watching this as a story with all these character elements get so built up, it's a huge anti-climax.

Which is a lot of what this campaign has been, really.

Oh, Nott’s cursed! But through a really cool character moment that problem is completely taken care of with no consequences we see. Yay, I want her to be Veth and that was an iconic move from Jester! Still, it kind of feels like this was built up to be a big problem and at the first success it was let go... Caleb's got a really intense frightening past he tries to hide, I wonder how the Mighty Nein will respond? Oh, they found out, but it's not a difficult revelation for anyone. Looks like it's easy for them to move past it and forgive. Yeah, that's healthiest for the characters, but huh, kinda undercuts it as a storyline or point of interest. Oooh, Avantika’s back! Ah, they’ve killed her and grabbed the eye again. I mean I don’t want them to die or for Uk’otoa to be free, but I’m starting to feel like that’s not much of a threat anyway. The Traveler’s been kidnapped! Nah he hasn’t, he tried to save Jester so he was let go with no further issue, and also he wasn’t actually in any danger anyway. Oh... Cool. So... Why should I care or be worried?

And these are just the biggest ones I remember being kind of let down by. I wanted to see them STRUGGLE for the successes to have meaning. To my view, threats of failure -- real failure -- really decreased the more the campaign went on, with a few exceptions.

Because don't get me wrong, we've definitely had struggles, and those have made for some of the best moments! Molly’s death, Yasha’s kidnapping, Yeza’s imprisonment. When failures that were threatened are allowed to occur, it’s far more gratifying when it’s followed by success, because you understand that that success was actually necessary. It shows us that what they do really means something.

Honestly, that's why the final battle really shut me up, because nothing makes you quite feel stakes and failure like having two PCs die, and having a resurrection ritual fail -- AND knowing that failure would be delivered on, had it not been for a seemingly miraculous roll of the dice to turn it around. One of the greatest failure's -- Molly's death -- made the success of his resurrection put a lot of my other issues to rest immediately, because to be honest? Molly's resurrection was the biggest success of the campaign, exactly because it was originally the biggest failure.

But this episode, we got to see the other side of making threats and successes feel disappointing -- when you get the impression that success was robbed from you. Again, their characters, their choices, but to have them roll an intervention to get Molly's soul, to convince Molly to come back with his own possessions they've so loved, after so long and so many struggles... only to apparently not get Molly at all?

Changed, of course. Memories, maybe he'd never get them back, though that seems inconsistent to how the initial resurrection was played and Matt's hints. It even makes sense that not having his memories and being a bit different, he might forge a new identity, but insisting Molly was a different person entirely after such a supposed hard won success to get Molly back, especially after what his death meant to the audience and potentially healing that old wound? It robs the narrative of a LOT of catharsis, at least for me and I know many others.

Trent, too, I'm very up and down on. He was so built up -- and what fun that build up had -- and I very much disagreed with the idea that the best story would be dealing with him offscreen.

It's true that you don’t need to explicitly address, confront, or explore every big aspect of character's story hooks and background ties for PCs to move past them and grow healthily. But that does not make it a satisfying viewing experience. People quietly healing in real life is healthy. People quietly healing in an explosive fantasy setting is frustrating for the audience.

What on earth is the point of a story if you don’t get to SEE THE ESTABLISHED CONFLICTS go anywhere? A lot of the characters got distant, quiet resolutions, if that, to everything we wanted to see.

Except, we did get to see Trent. It was a really fun, inventive battle, from opening to conclusion, but much like Travelercon, much like Nott's/Veth's problem with the hag, these were things that the audience in general wanted to see be really dug into and explored, and every single one of them got, in my opinion, quickly tidied up instead. Trent got beaten in the first and only proper battle they had with him, which, after all his build up, is pretty disappointing for a villain many of us wanted to see be a big deal. It really just felt like they were trying to tidy up to get on with the epilogue, which is not what a lot of us were looking for with Trent especially.

And that's how most of their endings felt to me. It didn't feel like any of them had reached a comfortable conclusion. Literally all of them, bar Veth and Caduceus, continued on their character journey threads, without each other and very quickly. Meeting Yasha's tribe and Vandran, Caleb finally openly debating changing time for his parents, Trent and Zeenoth's trials and the changing of the guard at the Assembly... All were things it would have been so fun to have all the PCs react to and explore together, and instead they were fleeting encounters in the latter half of a seven hour finale.

Is all this, from Molly not really coming back to Trent being a finale side plot to the Nein continuing on their individual journeys, potentially realistic to how these fantastical things might go down in real life? Sure! But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Stories THRIVE on conflict and resolution. That’s what makes them FUN! Conflict isn’t nearly so fun in real life and resolutions are often frustrating question marks, so no, past a certain point I don’t WANT stories to be realistic. I want stories to be SATISFYING.

And campaign 2 has fallen far short of the mark.

I haven’t spoken... Basically a word of this for most of the campaign, because as I said I’m a firm believer that you can’t necessarily judge something until it’s over, and because I ALSO firmly believe that being negative WHILE trying to enjoy something is counterproductive. I have had no interest in spoiling or naysaying the fun of the campaign for anyone, least of all myself.

But it's done now, and all I can say is... I really have had fun. I love the characters. I love their relationships. I’m pretty okay with where they’ve ended up. I’m not mad, really, and I’m still going to think of this campaign with a lot of affection. But it hasn’t been a satisfying story, even though for a week following episode 140 I thought, despite all the brushed over story threads, it might be.

So... to try and reclaim some of that satisfaction for myself, I might ignore some aspects of the finale proper. Namely Kingsley specifically. Taliesin's choice -- but to me, it's pretty clear that who we saw at the end of 140 was Molly, and the tags on my posts will reflect that, just as my 141 tags will be for both Kingsley and Molly, for clarity's sake. I personally want to believe Molly did come back, however others might want to interpret it. The victory in 140 that meant so much to me is hollow otherwise, and it just kind of hurts that we would lose Molly after everything. I was okay with him being dead -- I'm not so okay with his resurrection being stolen.

Kingsley will always be canon, but Molly is what I choose to acknowledge. I get if you don't like that take, and that's okay! I didn't care for canon's in the end. That's the good thing about storytelling, is that no one can stop you from making your own versions.

For the people who are hopefully hyped for campaign 3, heck yeah have fun! I’m on the fence. My investment, which... I think I can objectively say was pretty substantive as this blog will attest, doesn't feel rewarded, so I’m not convinced I can faithfully keep up for over three years all over again with a strong possibility that I will once again be left disappointed. It's been a huge chunk of my life, and... yeah!

I’ll take a break, probably, view (and liveblog, if people want!) campaign 1 when I’ve had a mental stretch and vacation, and then... I might start campaign 3. I definitely won’t be able to put the same time in it I did campaign 2 (my first love no matter what), knowing that it’s likely to not be so vindicated, in the end.

I swear I’m actually writing this in fairly good humour, but I totally get its always disappointing when the people you come to for fandom enjoyment just aren't sharing your fun. Honestly I’m half tempted to write all those frigging AUs I have sitting around! But I wanted to say my piece, and try and logically outline why this ending has been lacklustre for so many people, ultimately myself included.

Episode 140 felt right because it felt like a natural conclusion -- these disparate people coming together and finally being whole, finally soothing the hurt that MADE them so long ago. Episode 141 spat on that sentiment -- they all scattered to the winds, not as happy people to live out their dreams, but as confused people chasing up loose threads towards an unknown future, with the friend they thought returned still lost to them, ultimately.

It doesn't feel like the ending we should have gotten for the Mighty Nine, who were finally, finally all together. Until they weren't. So to me? I choose to acknowledge that they were, even if I have to force it to happen post-epilogue in my head.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c2e141 #c2e140 #ramblings #long post #first time i've used that tag but i figure people should be able to block this if they want to!#molly #kingsley #trent ikithon #the mighty nein

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lee-scribbles-and-doodles · 3 years ago

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S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police #sam & max #sam & max freelance police #freelance police #lee plays sam and max #305 #what the hell #flint paper #agent superball #momma bosco #sybil pandemik #sal s&m #general skun ka'pe #girl stinky #sammun mak #don't @ me I'm crying

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princekirijo · 3 years ago

Note

This is the first time I've rlly heard about Riku since I followed you, what's his deal? :0 would you mind telling me a little bit about him?

HELLO THERE YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY BOY!!!!

Ok so this is the first ask I ever answered about him and it is a semi good summary of his plot but a lot has happened since then (it was over a year ago) so I'll go over it again here for convenience. This predictably got long af so it's under a read more.

Also if you want any more random bits of info you can find it by searching for "riku kirijo" on my blog (or on Tumblr itself he has his own tag 💀)! I make random little fact posts about him so there's more info in those. You'll also probably find my older art for him for his previous design, but the last art piece I did is his design as of now and probably won't be changed cause I'm super happy with it. Also if you look under "oc tag" or "au tag" I tag some random posts with those if I think they fit the au (it's usually silly jokes and stuff).

Basically Riku is my Persona 5 OC and he's the eldest (and only) son of Yukari and Mitsuru from P3 (I'm sure you know by now I'm a massive Yukamitsu fan but if not now you do 💀). Now obvs there's not enough of a time gap in canon for this to be possible so the gap in this AU is about 30 years, I haven't worked that part out yet. He also has one sister (Yuna).

Riku's story starts really about two years before the events of P5 (btw I mean Royal but I'm just gonna refer to it as P5 cause I'm lazy). Basically he was feeling very lonely, had a hard time making friends and felt he needed to step out of his moms shadows. So he decides to move to Tokyo to get a chance to live out on his own and have a change of scenery. Because he's only 14/15 at the time he can't live on his own and for reasons I'll go into another time, his moms can't come with him. So enter Chiyoko Hatanaka, one of Mitsuru's high ranking staff who offers to become Riku's guardian of sorts while he's in Tokyo. Mitsuru agrees and Riku moves to Tokyo with her enrolling in Kosei High (he's in the same class as Yusuke and Hifumi).

However a few months after they moved, Hatanaka starts to drop her nice act and reveals her true colors and starts abusing Riku (both physically and mentally). I won't reveal the reason why as that's a huge spoiler and I plan on doing something with this story eventually. Riku doesn't tell anyone ofc because he's too scared (Hatanaka has some serious dirt on the Kirijo Group which she uses to blackmail him). So Mitsuru and Yukari have no idea this is happening but have noticed weird changes in his behavior whenever he comes home to visit.

Fast forward to just after Madarame's Palace and Yusuke mentions to the thieves that there's someone he'd like to look into - Hatanaka. He and Riku had this kind of mutual understanding of what was happening to them but never really acknowledged it (they didn't know how - I planning on going into more detail another time). The thieves agree after they see her name on the Phansite (anonymous request from Riku himself). At the TV station the shujin trio actually meet Riku (he's there because Yukari or Mitsuru are giving an interview idk yet). He introduces himself after telling some creep hitting on Ann to fuck off and he's very chatty and kind UNTIL Hatanaka shows up when he becomes super quiet. The thieves are like huh that's weird we should look into this chick for sure. So they do and ofc she has a Palace.

They start investigating and they find out her palace is at her and Riku's apartment (more of a penthouse) and the keyword is Studio. The palace is called "The Studio of Arrogance" and is modeled after a TV station. Riku accidentally gets dragged in and captured by Hatanaka's goons. The thieves find Hatanaka interrogating a chained up Riku where she reveals a few things (again spoilers) and torments him. He has enough, breaks free of his chains and then BOOM Persona time.

His persona is Pimpernel, the titular character in the book The Scarlet Pimpernel. He specializes in Physical and Aqua (Water element from P2) attacks and his best stat is speed (easily the fastest thief).

Riku and the thieves fight off against her goons, and escape to a safe room where they tell Riku everything. Riku also wants to change Hatanaka's heart so he teams up with the thieves with his code name being "Noble". I have a WIP of his phantom thief outfit and Pimpernel so I won't say much about the design for now (purple Flynn rider that's the best mini description I can give 💀)

After they've beaten Hatanaka's palace and changed her heart successfully the rest of the story is pretty much the same but with Riku in it. Mitsuru, Yukari and Yuna also play big roles because the three of them move to Tokyo to stay with Riku after they find out about the abuse. They each have their own background arc too but aside from Mitsuru I don't really have any ideas for them yet (even Mitsuru's is a concept idea).

And that's pretty much his story for now at least! If there's anything specific you want to know please ask because I will literally sit here for hours and rant about him <3

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calpalirwin · 3 years ago

Text

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @kaitieskidmore1 @wiiildflowerrr @heartskippeddabeat

#better now #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.”

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short.

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river.

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air.

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases.

Sean?

Oh my god.

Sean Hotchner.

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long.

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous.

Oh, poor Aaron.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.”

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt.

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron.

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.”

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up.

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -”

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face.

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention.

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully.

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks.

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor.

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh.

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice.

Oh, see, now this is fun.

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.”

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax.

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit.

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try.

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.”

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all.

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening.

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean.

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway.

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade.

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit.

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby.

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.”

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.”

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.”

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.”

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.”

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers.

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile.

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment.

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly.

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group.

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron.

Gotcha, babe.

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous.

I love you.

I know.

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate.

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival.

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back.

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke.

Sober? Getting there?

Remind me to get the skinny on that later.

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet.

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative.

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean.

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break.

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me.

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter.

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening.

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.”

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders.

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest.

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light.

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh.

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek.

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.”

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?”

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.”

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.”

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused.

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for.

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.”

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.”

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him.

“I’m completely fucked.”

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again.

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.”

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.”

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends.

We’ll do just fine, you and I.

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billnoncipher · 3 years ago

Text

Losing Time

This story is not in my usual continuity, but was written for Wendip Week 2021, topic "Time Travel."

for Wendip Week 2021

---

Mabel faced a hard decision when she called in that favor.

She was nearly thirty, she was a successful clothing designer, she had a steady romantic partner, life was good. But then on a visit to Gravity Falls, she visited the grave of good old Waddles, whose heart had given out the previous winter, while she was off in New York.

And she hadn't been able to say goodbye.

And despite the fact that she was all grown up and everything, it ripped at her heart—that she hadn't said farewell to her most favorite pet of all time. It wasn't that he hadn't been well cared for—Soos saw to that, giving the pig all the comforts and plenty of food. It wasn't that he was cut off in his youth—seventeen is a good long life for a pig. It's just that—

Well, now she knew how Dipper felt.

Speaking of whom.

Dipper and Wendy were coming up on their tenth wedding anniversary, they had adorable twins, age six, names Alexander and Amanda, and they lived in the Mystery Shack. Grunkles Stan and Ford still technically owned the place, and Soos ran it, but over the years he and Melody had expanded it until their own growing family caused Soos to have a separate house built just across the road, and he and his family of six—he, Melody, Benny, Betty, Alma, and little Stanley—had made the short move. Dipper had inherited Grunkle Ford's role as investigator of the weird, Wendy was a nationally-known consultant on forestry issues, and they took over the living space that Soos had left vacant.

Ford, now semi-retired, still came over to work with Dipper down in the secret labs when some project was afoot. Grunkle Stan came over to help when the Shack was swamped with tourists in vacation season, but he spent a lot of his time visiting casinos all over the world, where his odd luck always brought him a steady income.

The attic bedroom had become disused.

"Can I stay?" Mabel asked in a small voice just at sunup that day. "Just for a couple weeks?"

"Sure, Mabes!" Wendy said. "Any time, you know that."

Dipper, now sporting a goatee and wearing glasses to correct mild myopia, said, "Sis, what's wrong?"

With a sad smile, Mabel said, "You can tell, huh? Just getting all sentimental. Missing Waddles."

"Oh," Dipper said. "That. We're sorry you couldn't make it back in January."

"It was so unexpected," Wendy said. "He was OK, you know, kinda slow and sleepy all the time, and then one morning we found him in his stall. He'd passed in his sleep."

"He was comfortable to the end," Dipper said. "The heat was on. He didn't freeze or anything. He looked peaceful."

"We buried him down the hill," Wendy told her. "Come on, we'll walk you down."

The place was pretty, a small clearing off to the right of the Mystery Trail. Grass had greened the mound, dewy now with the dawn, and—Mabel couldn't help sobbing—Dipper and Wendy had put up a marker, one of those you could buy for a cherished dog or cat. It read,

---

WADDLES

2012-2029

Always Loved

---

"Could you just leave me here for a few minutes?" asked Mabel.

Dipper hugged her. "Sure, Sis," he said. "Take y our time."

Wendy hugged her, too. "You gave him a good life," she said.

When the two had left, Mabel took a deep breath and took something that looked like a thick button from her jeans pocket. She held it between finger and thumb, close to her lips, and said, "OK, Blendin Blandin, you owe me one."

And without fuss, explosions, or special-effects noise, he was there, beside her, in his old uniform. "M-Ma-Mabel," he said, smiling. "Hi. It's be-been a wh-while."

"Yeah," she said. "You're looking—exactly the same. How's Time Baby?"

"Te-te-teething," Blendin said with a grimace. "The ne-next thou-thousand years are go-gonna be hard. I gu-guess you want your fa-favor now?"

"I do," she said. "Waddles passed away last January. I don't want to bring him back to life or anything. I've learned better than that. But I didn't get to see him before he went, and I really want to visit him one last time. So—could I borrow a time tape?"

"I pro-promised," he said. "I always carry a sp-spare these da-days. Here."

"And I also need your advice," Mabel said, accepting the heavy time-travel device. "I want to visit Waddles on the happiest day of his whole life."

"You-you'll have to a-avoid meeting yourself," Blendin warned. "That would be cat-cata-catas—bad."

"Agreed," she said.

"Let me find out how to se-set the co-coordinates, then," he said. "Just a se-second."

He blinked out of existence for just three seconds, then reappeared, slapping at his hair, which was smoldering. "Th-that was two we-weeks of hard wo-work!" he said. "Lucky this-this is m-my va-vacation month. OK, I've reviewed Wa-Waddles' s li-life and this will ta-take you to the ex-exact day when he was happiest. You can ha-have the wh-whole day, or eight hours any-anyway, bu-but remember to a-avoid me-meeting yourself."

"Will do."

Blendin set the time tape, warned, "It will br-bring you ba-back to the present automatically. Ha-have a g-good time-tr-trip."

The strange noiseless explosion, a moment of spinning disorientation, and poof! there she was, at the edge of the woods behind the Shack. The sun was just rising.

"Out you go," she heard a girl's voice say from the back door.

She saw a rectangle of yellow light. Oh, my God, that's me, in my old sleep shirt! I'm twelve! I'm so young!

Her younger self held the door for Waddles—He's so cute and tiny!—and the pig stepped out, sniffed the air, and waddled over close to the woods to take care of his morning business.

Let's see. I always let him out, then had breakfast, then called him back in, so I have about half an hour before I have to duck out of sight.

"Waddles," she called softly.

He heard and galumphed over to her. He knew her. Her different size, her different voice, didn't matter. She scooped him up. "Oh, I love you!" she said as he curled into a ball and nuzzled her cheek. "Let's go for a walk."

She set him down, and they went down the Mystery Trail, past the Bottomless Pit—not yet fenced off—and as far as the bonfire clearing, where she sat on a log and played with him, laughing through tears. "I'm gonna have to say goodbye, later," she whispered. "But remember, no matter what, I'll always love you!"

Too soon she heard her own younger voice calling, probably for the second time and more loudly, "Waddles!"

"Go on," she told the pig, patting his bottom. He trotted back to the other Mabel, his Mabel.

What day is this? Mabel wondered. What day made him happiest?

She sat too long. Someone spoke, startling her. "Whoops, sorry, didn't know anybody was here!"

Wendy.

Mabel stood up. "I was just, uh—I used to come here when I was a girl—" she began.

"Mabel?" Wendy asked, blinking and staring. "Mabel? Is that you?"

"Haven't changed all that much, have I?" she asked. "Oh, my God, you're so young! Can—can I hug you?"

She was a little bit taller than the fifteen-year-old Wendy, who would add a few inches to her height in the next two years. Mabel couldn't help crying again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to let anyone see me. Time travel. I came back to—to visit Waddles."

"Oh, man," Wendy said. "Dipper's told me about this kind of stuff! Come on back to the Shack and surprise him!"

"No, I can't," Mabel said. "Don't even tell him you met me. That would cause problems with time."

"Oh."

Something in Wendy's voice hit her then. "Uh—what's wrong, Wendy?"

"Just—just the end of summer," Wendy faltered. "I—I hate that you and Dip are goin' home today."

Oh, my God! Of course! Waddles thought I was gonna leave him, and I nearly had to, but Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford made the bus driver take him aboard—of course he was happiest on that day!

"Oh, yeah," Mabel said. "Our birthday was yesterday. We turned thirteen."

"Technical teens," Wendy said with a ghost of a grin. A tear ran down her cheek.

"But you don't have to cry," Mabel said.

"I—I guess I can tell you a secret," Wendy said. She sat on the log, and Mabel sat beside her. "See, Dipper admitted to me a while back that he has a crush on me. I already knew, but I had to let him down. You know, me fifteen, him twelve. But now he's going away, and I'll never see him again, and—I just can't tell him I'm kinda-sorta in love with him, too. It's hard, Mabel."

Mabel bit her lip. "Listen," she said. "I may get in big trouble because of this, but—OK, I'm gonna say it. You gotta give Dipper a note. Have all his friends here sign it. You sign it, too. Here's the most important part—write on it 'See you next summer.' And wait for him. He'll come back. And he'll grow up, Wendy. And if you wait for him—it's gonna happen. I promise. Just stay in touch, and—most important—when the time comes, the age difference won't mean a thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Trust me, I know. OK, I've got a few hours today. I'm gonna stay close to the Shack and get in as much time with Waddles as I can. Then I'm going back to the future, and thirteen-year-old Mabel and Dipper are going back to Piedmont. But he doesn't just have a crush, Wendy. He really and truly loves you. So write the note, give it to him before he gets on the bus, and things will all work out. Promise me?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Oh—and tell Grunkle Stan that when the time comes for us to leave, to make sure Waddles gets on the bus, too! I—Oh, I love you like a sister, Wendy! You won't believe how happy you're gonna be with Dip."

"That—that means a lot to me, Mabes," Wendy whispered.

"OK, you'd better get back. Don't say anything to anyone about this. Be sure to do the note thing. Oh, and Wendy—do me one more favor?"

"Sure, what?"

"Tell Pacifica that Mabel's waiting—in the future. Don't explain."

"All right," Wendy said with a lopsided smile. "I'll do it." She mimed zipping her lip.

The day passed. Out of her eight hours, Mabel spent about three in Waddles's company as her brother and her younger self got ready to leave Gravity Falls. She spent more time standing out of sight, watching things unfold—finally the kids coming out, glum, with their suitcases, the bus pulling up, Dipper and Mabel and—finally—Waddles climbing aboard. And all their friends running as far as they could to see the twins and the pig off.

She stood alone near the Shack. The flash came. Benjamin stood there. "How d-did it go?"

"It went good," Mabel said, handing over the time tape. "I said goodbye." She sniffled and a tear ran down her cheek. "I'll still miss him but I—I can handle it now. Uh, how much time has gone by while I—?"

"A m-minute," Blendin said. "Well, I-I g-guess we're e-even."

"Thanks, Blendin. Goodbye."

"N-no, I d-don't think it's g-goodbye," he said, smiling. "I'll s-see you again. In time."

He flashed out of existence.

"Aunt Mabel!" It was red-headed Amanda, running down the hill to meet her. "Hi!"

Mabel swept her up in her arms. "Hi, Sweetie! Where's your bro-bro?"

Squirming, Amanda laughed. "He can't find his shoes!"

Carrying the six-year old up the hill to the Shack, Mabel laughed. "When your dad was six, he had the same problem! All the time! Every morning!" She paused and looked back at the green grave. "Hey, let me tell you a story about the most special pig in the whole world," she said, and they went back to join the family.

---

The End

#Wendip #Wendip Week #fereality #gravity falls

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vivithefolle · 4 years ago

Note

What are your favourite fanfic tropes/aus for romione?

(I’m gonna try to make my way through old asks I received AGES ago and never answered because I’m a procrastinating lump. Here’s betting I’m going to give up and play videogames all day instead.)

Oh my god, so many.

Okay so as a rule of thumb as long as it’s nice to Ron I’ll read it. I’ll read anything. I have been known to read Ron/Draco and even sacrificed my dignity and everything I stand for as a human being by reading some Ron/Snape stuff. Yes. I was THAT desperate. This is how low I’m willing to go because of sheer love for Ron.

Which means that when a fic will go “oh poor Hermione, poor Hermione who is waiting for Ron to grow up because She can see one day he could be worth it but for now he’s all dumb-dumb and inferior and doesn’t deserve Her perfection :(”, I will be judging. Judging very hard. I may not leave a comment but rest assured, my thoughts are loud enough for me. This is 2010s mentality. This is “haha I’m so like Hermione, not like other girls who throw themselves at boys, I’m so special and girl powery :)” Horribly Bad Feminism. Fuck that. We’re doing better now.

Speaking of doing better. Recently I read something about how Ron is, paraphrased, “the brute of the Trio”, spun in a positive way since he uses his strength to protect them but, but, still... please no? Just no! Just eff no with these takes about how Ron is a hypermasculine dudebro M For Manly™! No, no, fucking no! Just because he’s the Sulfur to Hermione’s Mercury and Sulfur represents the masculine component to Mercury’s feminine one, DOESN’T MEAN Ron is “the brute”! (”the” brute... seriously... who’s the more brutish one, the one who punches a racist in the face or the one who uses a torture curse as retribution for spitting on his fave teacher?)

The way I see him, Ron is a balance, a blend of feminine and masculine qualities intertwined close together. I LOVE that he can swear like a sailor but can only say “scarlet woman” or “cow” when it comes to insulting a woman. Some will probably see it as “hurr durr he sexist he doesnt think women can take it!!!!!!! >8C” but given that those are probably also the peeps who say “HE CALLE D HERMOANI A NIGHTMURRR!!!!!!! DDDDD8″ I’m gonna venture the idea that we don’t care about those folks’ biased, sexist opinions.

Where was I going with this... oh yes! Ok, so Ron can swear like a sailor yet couldn’t insult a girl to save his life. He’s strong physically but most of all he’s strong mentally (to put up with the way his friends treat him for years speaks a lot of his mental fortitude... and to top it off he comes back for more to boot! I’m not sure if that’s more mental fortitude or straight-up masochism though.) When he succeeds at things he gets a bit attention-whoreish but at the same time, you can see that when he’s being complimented he’s all unsure of himself and blushy and shy and you just, dude you can’t handle positive attention because you don’t know how to react to it I don’t know whether that’s adorable or the saddest thing I’ve seen in my life? He’s insecure but he’s always the first to cheer on Harry and Hermione when they’re doing something great, which speaks VOLUMES of Ron’s selflessness and of his actual character: to quote @peetamaellark, Ron doesn’t think “Harry is great, therefore he sucks and I hate him”, he thinks “Harry is great, therefore I suck and I hate me”. THIS is Ron. THIS is why Ron will lash out, not because he hates Harry, but because internally he hates himself and you can’t keep that sort of feeling bottled up for too long before... you got it, you explode.

I. Want. More. Fics where Hermione isn’t this ~oh dear~ Victorian damsel in distress who cries and Ron is the Big Strong Man who holds her with one arm and is stony-faced and goes “I’ll protect you”, please no that was old before it existed, let us have nice, realistic depictions of Ron and Hermione please.

Like, Hermione is more than capable of kicking butt herself. She IS absolutely nervous and scared and cries easily and that’s a vulnerability we NEED, but the fact that she can be super scared and crying but still hex her opponent into oblivion? THAT’s good, THAT’s excellent. It’s a very important message for girls, I think. “You can cry, you can be sensitive, you can be emotional, AND you can still kick butt”. And as important as that message is for girls, it’s also a very important message to give boys, because boys are socialized to “never cry” and that’s super unhealthy. I love Ron’s admiration of Hermione. I love the way Ron hesitates, the way he can be cautious when he needs to as much as he can be reckless and impulsive. I love how he shows himself to be a big softie and a sweet soul. I don’t think that makes him an “emasculated doormat” (to quote a guest I once saw on FFN), on the contrary it makes him an even better man in my eyes. You know why I love the locket scene so much? Because Ron’s tears aren’t ridiculed. Ron gets to cry about the terrible ordeal he’s been put through, and while Harry “pretends he can’t see Ron cry” because it’s more comfortable for him personally, he doesn’t try to tell Ron to “man up” or anything. His reassurance is pretty lousy but he lets Ron cry, he lets his friend be upset, and he doesn’t try to invalidate Ron’s pain. (ok, the “I thought you knew” is kiiiiinda on the way there, but it stops at that and I’m grateful for it).

I like. Seeing Ron distressed. I like seeing Ron upset and be allowed to be upset. I like to see Ron’s pain treated with respect. So when Ron is having a shit day I like to see him get a cuddle. I like seeing Ron go through horrible ordeals and break down and for his breakdown to be properly acknowledged and not turned into insensitive comic relief (ISN’T THAT RIGHT, LATTER HALF OF THE SILVER DOE????). I mean seriously, just imagine GOF, Harry sitting in the hospital wing after Cedric’s death, Molly Weasley gives him a hug and it’s all very sad and angsty. And now picture Ginny running into the room screaming “HARRY JAMES POTTER” and punching him over and over and saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER” then after two pages of Harry “explaining” himself to Ginny she goes away saying “aight but if you do that shit again you’ll have to answer to me” then Harry’s friends are like “damn she’s spunky huh?” and Harry laughs and everyone laughs and this is how the book ends? How would it be funny? How would it be appropriate? How would it feel like “romance”? When Ron returns in The Silver Doe, he’s been psychologically tortured (”tortured” is the actual word JKR uses, please), we don’t need him to be hurting outside as well.

I want more accountability for Hermione. More “uh hey Hermione maybe don’t do that”. More “hey Hermione you know you think of yourself as a good person buuuut yeah actually if all good persons were like you I’d be very afraid”. More “Hermione please for the love of God educate yourself”. More “Hermione sweetie I love you, but you can’t actually learn everything from books”. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE. Don’t be afraid to punch Hermione down and tear her apart the way the best Ron fics maim and torture our poor boy. Just because Rowling treated Hermione with kiddy princess gloves doesn’t mean you have to mimic her.

So when Hermione does a genuinely shitty thing let her own up to it. When Ron is a victim let him be upset and angry, even if Hermione is the one treating him badly. Just because he loves her doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be disappointed in her or that she’s entitled to his immediate forgiveness. Give Ron and Hermione equal consideration. If you’re brushing off Hermione’s actions but condemning Ron for the slightest mistake, I am sure to hate it.

Okay, uh, so, those aren’t really tropes. Those are more just, guidelines I presume.

Oh, yeah, a trope that annoys me! Ron saying “you’re mine”, “my Hermione” and stuff, and Hermione just swoons and says “yours” and shiz. Ok, once in a while, why not. Once in a while. BUTT. I WANT HERMIONE TO SAY IT TOO. “Mine”, “my Ron!” and Ron swoons and says “yours, absolutely yours”. DO IT YOU COWARDS. FUCKING TAKE THOSE GENDER ROLES AND PUNCH’EM IN THE FACE.

Oh, right, while we’re on the subject of gender roles! Dad!Ron is everything. SingleParent!Ron is mwaaah. Stay-at-home-Dad!Ron is ALKZLDSJDLQSKLFJ <3. AnimalLover!Ron is HHHHNNNGG. Remember, the small gestures, the tiniest, softest acts Ron does (helping Harry get dressed when his arm is deboned, giving Dobby his brand-new sweater, praising Ginny, Luna and Neville when they escaped Umbridge), those are often those unremarkable, unmistakeably kind and sweet actions that tell us who Ron really is at his core: not a guy who’d want power at all costs, not a guy who’d give it all for ambition, not a guy who sees people as possessions, but someone kind who wants to make others happy.

Ok, I was also asked for AUs, so, uh, pretty much every AU is game as long as Ron gets treated with respect? I mean I don’t really care for Mafia!AUs or such but if you can find a way to fit good Romione then go for it I guess. Royalty AU, yeah why not but I often see Ron being made a prince while Hermione is a poor wee servant girl and like. Uuum, we’re talking about the same characters here? Hermione the highly educated girl who keeps on walking over everyone’s toes and loudly talking about how things should be done and is definitely Nouveau Riche, Ron who is a country boy who lives on a farm and is lost in the constant shuffle of his brothers, you think she should be the peasant and he should be the royal? Whaddafack? Oh, and all the “Hermione is a Muggle, Ron is a wizard” AUs that start this way BUTT! Suddenly... Hermione... turns out... to be (wait for it!)... A WITCH! And a super powerful super talented very good one too!!!... yeah ok, yawn. It’s quite scary, actually, how often I’ve seen that plotline, but in the rare cases when it’s Muggle!Ron and Witch!Hermione, Ron never ever EVER (I mean, seriously, NEVER EVER) turns out to have been a wizard, not even a mediocre one, all along. No, when Ron is made a Muggle for the sake of AU he stays a Muggle. But when Hermione is made a Muggle she has to turn out TO HAVE BEEN A WITCH ALL ALONG OMYGAH. I can count on one hand the number of Mugglemione/Wizardron fics that actually stick to their Mugglemione premise till the end - and usually they’re one-shots. (Also I don’t mean “Ron mistakes Hermione for a Muggle because he meets her in the Muggle world and assumes he must hide his magic from her, oh wait she was actually a witch!” fics, I mean genuinely “Hermione has been raised a Muggle her whole life, never had weird things happen to her her whole life ever, then Ron comes in and is a wizard and he does magic and Hermione wonders what it’d be like to be a witch and oh surprise! Don’t worry Hermione, you won’t have to feel not-special or mundane for long, here comes the plot contrivance to tell you you really were in fact the specialest of them all!!” fics.) Fairytale!AU is cool. Very good. But honestly I like to see them swapped around. Ron cursed by a nasty fae to be a Beast and Hermione stumbling upon him? Neat, especially if you don’t go the boring route of “oh let’s just rehash the Disney/the original book with different names and call it a day”. But Hermione cursed by an asshole fae for, let’s say, not sharing books, turning into a Beast, and Ron stumbling upon her as she’s trying to survive in the woods (and not doing a very good job of it)? Yes, brava, chief’s kiss. Rapunzel AU where Hermione’s bushy hair turns into the most impractical, most suffocating improvised ladder ever for Ron? Hilarious. Rapunzel AU where Ron has A GIANT EFFING PONYTAIL OF THE GODS and is screaming “ow ow ow” as Hermione makes her way up to his window cringing and saying “sorry! sorry! sorry! (damn his hair smells good)” on every step? Equally hilarious. Go! Be creative! Please I beg of you

Creature!fics! Oh my god there’s not enough of those, at least that aren’t focused on a bullshit pairing! Soulmate AUs! Give me everything! I’ll even take A/B/O if you insist on making it Romione! That’s how far I’ve fallen from human decency I’ll take anything just give me some good Ron content please I beg of you (Ah and to those that are going to say “Alpha Ron Omega Hermione :)))” well yes, but actually no. “Beta Ron Beta Hermione”? “Beta Ron Alpha Hermione”? “Omega Ron Alpha Hermione”??? HELL YEAH NOW WE’RE TALKIN)

Oh dear god I’m still not finished and I haven’t gone through everything someone stop me.

AND NOW BE CAREFUL CHILDREN, BELOW WILL BE SMUT.

Okay I don’t know if it qualifies as a trope, but. But. A more realistic depiction of Ron is usually what I’m after. All those fanfics that have Ron be “the sexy experienced one ;)))” ravishing “naive virginal Hermione ;))” is just UGH. We spent all the 2000-2010 period having fics like this, mind adding a bit of EQUALITY to the mix???

It’s just... I hate it okay? So many fics read like they’re just projection, writers who are essentially making Ron their big strong sex toy stud who's so attentive and sweet and cherishing, and so it does indirectly ends up as "servant Ron is so devoted to his goddess Hermione, providing pleasure to her while she doesn’t have to lift a finger”. The Dom!SexGod!Ron thing honestly depresses me... Since it's Ron taking care of Hermione, AGAIN. Like, he spends his WHOLE LIFE doing that already. Can we give him a break for once?

In the endI feel that it's less "Romione smut" and more "self-inserting into Hermione smut". In "real" Romione smut I think Ron and Hermione would switch roles according to what they feel like. And honestly I ALWAYS picture Ron being super nervous during Dom stuff, like he spanks her once then immediately he goes "oh my god are you okay?? did that hurt, do you want to stop?", things like that. I cannot imagine it happening any other way. XD Ron is just... too caring, too sensitive to do stuff like hard BDSM and that kind of thing in my opinion. He’s too much of a caretaker. I understand if it’s your kink and you’re perfectly free to project and write the fic you want, I’m not the fun police, but it’s just... I don’t think that’s really what Ron would be like. I just want MORE realistic Ron.

Also I’m trying really really hard to not point fingers here but WHY is it that it’s always “Ron growled” while it’s always “Hermione whimpered” or “Hermione moaned”? Like... you know it’s okay for a man to moan or whimper in pleasure too, right? You know Ron isn’t 110% muscles and testosterone? You know Hermione is allowed to be fierce too? Hermione can 100% “growl” and be dominant and pin Ron to the wall and reduce him to a puddle of goo if you’re brave enough?

(Honestly how sexy would Ron think that is? The woman he loves is half his size yet can pin him down and ravish him. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG RON HAS WANTED TO BE RAVISHED AND CHERISHED DO YOU KNOW HE’S BEEN WANTING THIS ALL HIS LIFE)

Oooo-kay, so that’s... mostly it, I reckon. Oh also Ron has a gigantic penisraise kink (and a great penis too, but mostly a praise kink). That’s canon and that’s all.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fanfic #fanfiction #tropes #au #writing

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached: Words We Don’t Mean

(...and Those We Do)

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 7950 👀

Summary: Your parents decide to visit for Thanksgiving, which alone is a trial.

The fact that they haven’t met Steve yet and they have no clue who he is… yeah, you better brace yourself for a storm.

A/N: Attached: Words We Don’t Mean (and Those We Do) is a one-shot to the Attached series. Technically, you can read it as a standalone.

A/N: In the Stockings fic, I mentioned that no one in their household talked about (last) Thanksgiving. Here’s why. Also: I named the parents Paul and Jane, it’s enough of a mess to work around with nameless reader; if that offends you, sorry, feel free to move on from this fic.

Warnings: angst, parents-daughter fight, mention of sexual relationhips and of using one’s body to earn money (negative view), mild flashback, emotional H/C, swearing, sprinkles of fluff and Disney

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“Sweetheart, please, sit down for just a second,” Steve requested gently; however, there was no mistaking the drop of amusement in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words and continued scrubbing the bathtub clean.

Everything had to be perfect. Had to be. You bought the tinniest of the giant turkeys yesterday – just so you wouldn’t have to eat leftovers for a month –, ingredients for the stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce. Your mum had promised to stop by somewhere to get four slices of a pumpkin pie. But cooking was on your list later today; first you needed to make sure that the apartment would shine with cleanness.

Not that you considered yourself a neat freak, thank you very much… maybe occasionally. And Steve? Yeah, he was more of a neat freak than you were and now he was telling you to rest and take it easy? Uh-huh, nope.

Nope, because… your parents -- gosh, your parents.

“Honey-“

Your head snapped to him as he bounced off of the doorframe, soft steps leading him right to you.

“Did you just call me honey?” you asked incredulously.

Not that you didn’t like it, it was just-- you were Steve’s sweetheart, his babygirl, his good girl… now honey? That was new and frankly, it might have freaked you out a bit.

Also, your heart skipped a frantic beat upon looking at him.

Damn, you forgot again about what he had done yesterday and it always startled you to see him like that. Too unusual – not bad-looking by any means, just… unusual.

Steve chuckled as he crouched to you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and cupping your mildly sweaty cheek. He grimaced a bit at your surprised tone.

“Not a fan?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, hun, it’s just that… it’s a bit ominous, the change.”

One corner of his lips rose at your choice of a petname. “That’s because you’re freaking out and I need you to calm down a bit, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you scoffed, rather offended. Mostly because he was right – but also because he was being a damn hypocrite.

“Oh, am I? Me? Did I spend about an hour in front of the mirror yesterday, trying and almost failing to solve the dilemma whether I should or shouldn’t shave off my beard?”

Steve’s face turned entirely sour at your snarky remark.

“Don’t be mean, it’s a valid concern to-- I don’t want them to hate me,” he murmured and dropped his gaze in shame along with his hand, seemingly shrinking into himself, his insecurity returning.

You sighed and mentally cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

You dropped the brush to the tub with a thud and lost one of your gloves, wiping the ew feeling onto your old sweats before you tried to smoothen the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“They’re gonna love you, Steve,” you assured him again, letting you fingers travel over his clean-shaved jaw, lightly pulling at his cheek to make him smile again. “I miss the beard, not gonna lie, but you do have an extremely sweet boy-next-door look now, you are my handsome, funny, smart as hell guy, who’s somehow all grown up and has life stuff figured out and you’re making me happy. You’re the epitome of the guy a girl wants to bring home to meet her parents.”

Despite slightly panting from exertion, you took care to sound as convincing as possible, pushing away your own worries for a bit.

Steve was your perfect guy, perfection incarnated; you weren’t worried about him not making an impression… except for the fact that Steve did have a few years on you and worked at the uni and—well.

Yet, you couldn’t but dread the moment your parents realized that you were everything but perfect since they let you loose on the world. You had never been the daughter to show off like the epitome of everything good and wholesome, but you always tried your best to please them…. Now though? Darting your professor? Even if he wasn’t exactly your professor?

Yeah, you didn’t think that a spotless apartment could make up for that, but it helped to ease your anxiety when you kept lying to yourself that it just might.

Steve grasped your palm in his, planting a tiny kiss there – a gesture to warm your heart, always – his lips once again curled up a fraction as his gaze met yours, his mesmerizing blues kind and hopeful.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

And with the way he was looking at you – you finally figured it out. Just a fleeting thought and an answer to an unspoken question you had been failing to grasp at since yesterday; it escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Gosh, you look like a Disney prince!”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, laughter erupting from his throat and he pulled you to him in one swift motion, falling on his ass with you in his arms in the process and nearly getting crushed by you. Clearly, he did not care one bit as he shook with laughter, kissing your nose, your cheeks and finally your lips despite your protests that you were gross.

“That’s golden! Oh babygirl, you’re the-”

“Tell me I’m Cinderella, I dare you,” you grumbled, but Steve just shook his head and kissed you breathless, fingers of one hand curled around your nape to guide you closer, to breathe you in, while his other hand stayed wrapped around your waist.

You tried your best not to touch him with your gloved hand, having it ridiculously stretched out to nowhere in order not to spot his clothes, but your free hand clutched at his t-shirt with enthusiasm.

His lips left yours only when the world started spinning and your mind turned blank besides the thought of Steve’s mouth being on yours and how much you loved it when he stole all the breath from your lungs – and how much you always missed him when he withdrew.

You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he watched you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, your messy self in baggy clothes, your heart growing three times its size, your insides positively tingly from the heated make-out session.

Steve was smiling again too at last, brushing your nose with his and planting one last soft kiss on your lips.

“Okay, babygirl, now hand over the brush.”

You had to blink several times, your oh so lazy brain taking its time to realize what he said. Huh? Also, did he just said it as if he was asking you were a robber holding a hostage on gunpoint and he was asking you to lay down your weapon?

The thought made you internally snort.

“Why?” you demanded, suspicious.

“Because I’m taking over.”

You instantly shook your head. “No-“

“Yes. I promise I’ll make sure it’s spotless-“

Okay, yeah, that was one of our arguments against him doing the clean-up. However, there was one more. “But you still have papers to grade and lessons to prepare!”

“And you want to cook too and then we’ll have to clean up the kitchen. And you’ll want to take a shower and and and. Papers can wait. Gimme the brush.”

“You make it sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction… or I am,” you muttered, but you kissed his cheek – such a strange feeling, you truly missed the sensation of his beard scraping your lips – and climbed out of his lap with a meek and cautious thank you. He cackled at your antics, but quickly fished out a new pair of gloves from the bathroom drawer and started working.

You swallowed your smart remark about him being the Cinderella now. Mostly because his gesture was one of the sweetest things and really – seeing Steve scrubbing the bathtub might not be the sexiest thing in the world… but it kinda was.

It pulled at your heartstrings as you imagined that this might be how it would always be; you and Steve, settling together, taking care of the household, then cuddling on the couch—the domesticity you hadn’t always been sure you craved.

Now you were certain of it; but to get to that, you had to survive your parents’ visit first.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You had somewhat stayed in touch with your parents, mostly with your mum; you two had been calling on a so-so regular basis, sometimes with video, and both her and your father were obviously aware that you had a boyfriend (gee, that sounded kinda trivial, a boyfriend). In fact, Steve played a huge role in them deciding to purchase their plane tickets… besides wanting to see New York City… and you.

The thing was… you had managed to keep Steve’s identity secret so far; you never used a videocall when he was around, so your mum only had heard his voice, sweet and polite in the most Steve fashion possible, you sort-of danced around his age and his job. Yeah, you found it strange as well that you kept it up so long, a divine intervention even; or maybe your mum simply had a good idea of your dirty secret all along and purposely didn’t probe.

Now, with your parents in the apartment, your dad’s eyes more on Steve than on you (your mum’s eyes wandered too, you noticed, but she had enough decency to show you she missed you first), you felt dread fill every cell in your body. Your heart was pounding in your chest with too much ferocity, your temples pulsing, your palms uncharacteristically sweaty and if it wasn’t for Steve’s warm hand on your lower back, its weight oh so comforting, you might spontaneously combust because of your nerves.

You were suddenly entirely grateful that Steve had shaved off his beard, was giving less of a an incredibly hot (and still very young, thank you very much) professor vibe and looked--- well, kinda like he could be your classmate.

But of course, of course the subject came up. Inevitably, after the small talk about your parents’ flight, about how their job was going and if they picked up a new hobby (…or heard some gossip), you and Steve became the centre of attention.

First, things went smoothly enough; you talked a bit about school, about Penny and some of your classmates and professors, about your part-time job. Steve had been subtly drawing small comforting circles on your thigh whenever he wasn’t eating and he in fact succeeded in lowering your heartbeat so much that you might appear even calm.

And then it oh so predictably went to shit.

Because apparently, your materialistic father had to ask Steve what he was studying and what his plan for his future career was.

“I actually finished my studies,” Steve admitted in an admirably dispassionate manner.

Meanwhile, your own heart started racing again, sending you to the verge of a cardiac arrest; your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a hint of a smile played in the corners of his lips in effort to remain polite… for now.

“Oh? Was that recently?”

You deflected that question by bringing up the pie and snatching Steve with you to bring it to the table since you two were the hosts.

The question forgotten, your mum – god bless her, she had caught up enough to know you did not want to discuss Steve’s age, even if it wasn’t that bad – asked about Steve’s field of study.

“History, minoring in pedagogics.”

“Oh? So you are a history teacher?” your dad chimed in and you swallowed as Steve confirmed that claim, walking straight into a death trap. You had seen it coming, you had, but you still winced when your father’s icy tone cut the almost festive atmosphere. “And it wouldn’t be that you’re more of a university professor, would it?”

His hand balled into a fist on the table, your mother’s lightly covering it as she whispered his name; the gesture of comfort, a silent plea for him to stay calm, didn’t quite work.

Steve, to his benefit, looked only a bit sheepish, meeting your dad’s eye with bravery worth of the Disney prince you had called him earlier that day. Also, with the same honesty… why hadn’t you agreed on lying to them again?

“It would, sir.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose then that it is a coincidence that you two met in school?” your dad continued and you sighed, your breathing progressively turning into a more and more of a difficult task with the anticipation of a storm.

“It is not, sir,” Steve replied calmly and you honestly didn’t know whether you should kiss him or punch him, unsure if his attitude made your father madder or not. “However-“

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and enraged; you felt yourself sink into your chair involuntarily, your mind travelling years back to the moments when he wasn’t pleased with you at all, yelled and sputtered words tasting of venom.

“Do you have any explanation for this inappropriate joke?” you father hissed, not caring he interrupted whatever Steve was about to say to your defence.

Your chest grew heavy, edges of your vision blurring subtly; your eyes burned and suddenly, you weren’t only remembering. You were reliving a memory, feeling like your child-self, like your teenage-self, being scolded for every imperfection; and there had been generous amount of those as you had been growing up.

Steve’s hand somehow slid under the table again, squeezing yours, a gentle wave of attempted comfort washing over you.

But it took one glance at him and you understood that silent support was not the only goal of his when he sought your touch.

His jaw was set tight, his grip a little too strong; he was trying to maintain composure, while not at all impressed with the tone your father was speaking with you.

Yet, Steve’s gesture did provide you with something you hadn’t had whenever you faced your father before; strength and true support, the essential reminder that you had done nothing wrong.

“Dad, this is not a joke,” you said, your voice shaking only slightly as you squeezed Steve’s hand back, “Steve and I are dating. Yes, he is teaching at the same college I study, but-“

A fist hit the table, causing the remaining tableware clank with the force behind the blow and you winced in fright, all muscles tensing in an instant.

“There is no ‘but’ applicable in this case!” your father spitted out, the anger in his voice making your guts twist, the sting in your eyes intensifying. “We help you to pay for school so you could study, not sleep around!”

Several things happened at once; your mother admonished your father, a level-headed whisper of his name. Your voice, too quiet as always when your father reprimanded you, tried to protest, to defend yourself. And Steve’s patience ran out, his outrage at your father’s demeanour showing.

“Paul-“

“That’s not what’s-“

“Don’t talk to her like that!“

“You keep your mouth shut now,” you father snapped at Steve, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning his rage towards you again, the deep disappointment in his eyes somehow more hurtful than the anger. “Is it that bad with your grades that you have to—to--- Jesus Christ.“

The world stopped for several frantic beats of your heart, everything else in standstill. Multiple sharp breaths were drawn in, but you didn’t think either of them was yours.

Your father’s unfinished sentence echoed in your ears as if from a terrible distance and just like that—just like that, you were thrown several months back to the days before your graduation.

Rogers’ whore

Bet she’ll get the highest score

The icy feeling that froze your bones and crystalized the blood in your veins made for a stark contrast to the few hot tears you were distantly aware of that were running down your cheeks.

Many had thought of you that you were a set of holes to fill for the professor in exchange for passing an exam or two, which was disgusting, deeply insulting and obviously wrong. But those people didn’t know you- they weren’t your blood.

Your own father was now seconds from calling you a whore. The dinner turned into a stone in your stomach as the verbal punch knocked all air from your lungs.

“Paul!” you heard a swift reproach, quickly followed by Steve’s voice, dangerously low in a threat. “I’m sorry, what did you just imply about her?”

“You zip it-“

“Paul!”

It felt like a fucking elephant stomped on your chest, the spiral of pity and despair, mocking voices swirling wildly, tossing you around with a quickening speed as the circles got smaller and smaller, as if you were circling down the drain, your breaths coming shorter and shorter too-

And yet your father still continued, ignorant to all warnings and your inner turmoil.

“That’s over, my dear. I refuse to support such disgusting thing. And you, I don’t see how it’s possible that you still have your job-“

“DAD!” a loud cry cut off the monologue and it took you a moment to realize that it was you who just snapped and yelled, despite the unmistakable addressing.

Your father stared at you in mute shock as you dared to interrupt him; and frankly, with the world spinning, your stomach twisted and your chest constricted with anxiety, you were shocked by your actions too.

It was the fact that he doubted Steve’s position at the uni, flashed through your mind, the way he insulted the man you loved and who deserved all the good things. Or maybe it was his fucking attitude towards Steve and you in general and you just finally reached your limit. You weren’t sure; but shit, this ended now.

The silence that fell on the room granted you a few moments to breathe and calm your frantic mind.

“He is not using me like some f-“ -fuckdoll- “-fling or whatever. And he’s not even my professor, he’s-“

“Like it matters!” you father snapped from his trance, spitting the words, a vein on his temple visibly popping up as he rose to his feet swiftly, nearly sending the chair flying to the ground.

You stared up at him, the coil of despair and rage in your gut burning hot as he literally looked down on you.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You hadn’t been ready for your father to despise you for being in a relationship with a great man, to judge you so harshly without being able to listen for a damn second.

“It DOES. But even if he was-“ you tried to explain again, losing patience and the ground under your feet too as Steve’s hand started practically crushing the bones of yours.

You could physically feel Steve trying to hold back and slowly succumb to his not so nice emotions no doubt swirling in him just like in you.

“How can you not see that’s he’s only looking to get his---” your father gestured wildly towards Steve and rather low and you could hear Steve’s teeth grinding at the implication. Your blood reached the boiling point. How dared he to- “-that he’s only seeking a physical thing-“

“That’s not what this is. I love your daughter-“ Steve emphasized, expression fiery, voice surprisingly measured for a man who you believed was one moment from punching your father.

“Sure you do, son, until something with long legs and tall heels walks by-“

Steve’s chair scrapped against the floor and you quickly laid a palm over his chest to stop him from jumping to his feet and succumb to his righteous anger.

“Steve-“ you whispered soothingly, seeing the light tremble to his hands, tendons dancing under his shirt with the effort to hold back.

“Paul, that’s enough,” your mother interjected, grabbing her husband’s wrist to keep him back as well.

“I do love your daughter, I respect her and I fully intend-“

Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled shakily to compose himself. In the very back of your mind, you spared a single thought to what he was going to say before he shook his head and looked your father dead in the eye again.

“-I am serious about her and I want to and will be with her as long as she’ll have me.”

You had two full seconds to sink into the gentle sentiment behind his words, to cherish how much he did respect your choices and strangely, how he still doubted he could be enough for you, before your father scoffed dismissively.

“Well, I hope you are serious, because if she comes crawling back in few weeks, the door and the account will be closed.” He shot you one disdainful look that made your heart stop before twisting his arm from your mother’s hold and stepping away from the table. “We’re leaving.”

Your eyes slipped shut, a fresh wave of hot tears painting your cheeks, all strength leaving your body, darkness enveloping your mind.

He was cutting you off. He was going to disown you no doubt; that much of a disappointment you were to him.

Your own father hated you.

Dull ringing filled your ears, muffling your mother’s low voice.

“I’m so sorry for his behaviour.” She sounded truly regretful, her voice quivering a bit, you thought. “I’ll talk to him about what he said. Thank you for the dinner, baby. It was nice to meet you, Steve, truly.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve responded firmly, his voice the only solid thing in the room. “I’ll—I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary, Steve. But thank you. I’ll call you, sweetheart.”

A low whisper about a promise fell from her lips next as she brushed your shoulder, but you couldn’t hope to understand what she was saying, the buzz of blood in your ears growing louder.

And then you knew she was gone along with your father. You knew because a warm hand touched yours, another gently wiping way the endless waterfall of your tears and then you were pulled to your feet and practically dragged to the couch in Steve’s protective embrace.

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You wouldn’t be able to tell how long you were drenching Steve’s shirt in tears, sobbing into his chest as he held you firmly and yet tenderly, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort empty and yet so meaningful.

You couldn’t tell how long it took for the tremble subdue, for the sobs to turn into sniffles and then die out entirely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” Steve whispered to your hair, caressing your scalp, your back the next, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know,” you creaked back, gripping the fabric of his shirt for one last time before you gathered your breath and courage to face him; you had to. You might be a mess, but it was vital that he heard you say this: “It’s not your fault.”

You withdrew slightly, meeting his eyes, so big and regretful, a bit watery as if he was the one crying. The corners of his lips, apparently having been turned down the whole time, twitched, his whole face twisting in a grimace; little sad, little defiant, but he didn’t protest even though you were certain that he wanted to.

Perhaps it was a testimony of how well you two fit, how your thoughts worked on the same wavelengths; you understood what he must have been thinking. If you were dating literally anybody else, this wouldn’t have happened.

So you had to assure him that you didn’t blame him; even if he did so himself. You didn’t have the energy to be angry with him for such thing. Mostly because that in a way, there was a tiny bit of truth in him thinking so.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I chose you. Yes, this relationship is on both of us… but we knew the risks and went for it anyway. And—it’s worth it, it’s just… fuck, this is so fucked up. I’m in such a mess now,” you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears burned in your eyes.

Steve’s fingers were quick to dry your cheeks, gently stroking, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We are, babygirl. We’re in this together. What’s mine is yours,” Steve said, determined. You couldn’t find yourself sharing his optimism, but his eyes locked onto yours, serious as his words. “We’ll figure it out. Find ways of saving more. Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll try to find a job that pays better-”

Your palms landed on his chest, pushing away, putting some distance between you; his hand dropped from your face.

Say WHAT?

“Absolutely not!” you protested instantly, sobering from your despair and letting indignation take over, ignoring entirely the voice in your head sweetly nudging you with the idea of what Steve was willing to give up for you. “I’ll drop off college before I let you give up being a professor, Steve-- you are made-“

“Not an option, sweetheart,” he shot back instantly, expression turning strict. “You leaving college is off the table.”

Mentally, you threw your hands up in the air, growing confused and frustrated by the minute.

“Why? How is that different from you finding a new job, giving up something you worked for so hard?”

“The difference is,” Steve raised his voice slightly, speaking slowly as if he wanted you to remember every word, “-that the chances are that I could come back at some point, that I might only lose a few years. You dropping off, on the other hand, would affect your whole future.”

The same exasperation you felt burned in his eyes now and you gulped, realization hitting you that… yeah, okay, that was a good point. But you hated it anyway.

“…okay, that’s a fair point. But I rather work three jobs and didn’t sleep at all than seeing you leave the university.”

“And work yourself to the ground? I don’t think so, babygirl,” Steve shook his head, just a smidge of patronizing which stung more than you would expect.

Obviously, he was presenting you with more of a feasible option, but you had a feeling that the primal instinct to be the provider played a role in his attitude too – and at any given moment besides this one you would like that; you were completely fine with him wanting to ensure you were secured, taking the larger portion of the burden on his shoulders.

Except now it reminded you of your father in the worst possible way despite knowing that the sentiment was nothing but sweet, no malice in his intentions. It chased tears into your eyes.

Steve’s expression instantly melted, panic flashing in his eyes as he must have figured out that this was not the right thing to say… or not the right way.

His hands were quick to frame you face, tender but unwavering, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s just… we’ll work it out, somehow, okay? We can even move out and share an apartment with someone else if we need to. Though you’re forgetting I used to pay this rent and bills on my own.”

Your lower lip quivered, your heart fluttering in fondness for this incredible man, your chest constricted at the idea of taking anything away from him, even if it was comfort. God, the distance he was willing to walk…

“You were living on school cafeteria food and ramen,” you mumbled, corners of your lips twitching upwards for the shortest moment.

Steve’s smile, on the other hand, was almost blinding, tight-lipped but honest, thumbs sweeping at the tears that appeared yet again.

“See, another possibility to save money. Don’t cry, my pretty girl…” he pleaded lowly, kissing your nose before shaking his head lightly. “Or cry if you need to. I’m here, sweetheart, okay? Whatever you need.”

Shit, your heart couldn’t hope to contain this amount of love-

How could anyone ever doubt Steve was the right man for you? The best man? The most wonderful loving human being? How did your father think he was just looking for a mindless fuck?

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, smiling through your tears. “Fuck my father. He can’t bully me into being his perfect daughter by cutting me off, can’t make me behave. There’s nothing wrong with me loving you.”

“Or me loving you.”

There was no questioning his honesty; it was written all over his features, his irises bright with emotion. And yet, you worried your teeth over your lower lip, insecurity, your old friend, crawling into your head.

“You do, really? Even with my asshole of a dad?”

You didn’t mean it. Entirely. Though momentarily, your dad was being an asshole, not for the first time.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re my everything,” Steve promised, releasing your face in order to tuck messy loose strands of your hair behind your ears.

“That’s the sweetest thing to say, but you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth-“ Oh. Even though… maybe that would be an option? “Well, technically-“

All the gentle warmth radiating from Steve’s expression turned ice cold, smile dropping so fast it startled you.

“Don’t you even-“

“Hey, why not, I mean how much do you think-“

“Stop that right now!” Steve’s voice cut you off, razor sharp voice as if cutting into your skin.

You flinched at the mental blow on instinct, air stuck in your throat, muscles in your back straightening enough to inflict a sharp pounding in your head.

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling painstakingly slow, as if he got punched in his gut too. His fists on your sides clenched and unclenched, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he looked at you again, it was obvious he realized he had scared you – and that he regretted not keeping his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, babygirl, I didn’t mean for it to come out this harsh.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on nothing but your breathing and keeping yourself from sobbing again as you were reminded of your father’s yelling. With each long second, you could see Steve’s face twisting and his body sinking into the couch in shame.

Well. As much as you hated him snapping at you, you had to give it to him – it sobered you up. Frankly, you didn’t blame him for being so harsh.

But you were also aware that Steve was a painfully kind and gentle soul and he never wanted to be rough with you… well, except under certain very consensual special circumstances.

“I know,” you forced an unconvincing smile, laying your palm on his cheek, affection Steve was quick to lean into with a sigh – probably both relieved and content. “I’m sorry for talking stupid.”

He covered your hand with his, carefully manipulating it so he could brush his lips over your palm.

“You’re not, not really. Our heads are a mess, rightfully so. I know people still do that, some purely by choice, but—I don’t want that for you, ever. That’s the same level on a will-never-happen scale like you not continuing your masters. Not an option for me. You’re my girl and if someone’s gonna change their habits, it’s gonna be me first.”

The surge of affection at his words filled your stomach with butterflies, wrapping around you like the softest and warmest comforter.

Great, now you wanted to cry for a whole different reason.

“I don’t deserve you,” spilled from your lips before you could think twice. Steve’s sweet smile made its return.

“Other way around, babygirl. Other way around…. Now how does a bath and a bed sound?”

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Steve hadn’t planned on you and him having a bath when making the suggestion. He found a bath-bomb even and few candles so the light wouldn’t have to be on and hurt your previously teary eyes.

But then you looked at him with wide eyes, pleading and so vulnerable, a single look so heartfelt that it would make the devil’s black heart break and the angels weep – and he was done for, sinking into the bath with you even if the bathtub was not meant for more than one person, especially when one of them was of Steve’s built.

He couldn’t tell you no. Less so after the shitstorm the dinner had turned into.

Yes, Steve’s own emotions were running high, anger, disappointment and self-hatred he knew he couldn’t confess to, certainly not at the moment, but you. You were the priority here because he had a feeling that no matter how overwhelmed he felt, he had nothing on you.

The ceramics of the tub was hard against his back and against his knees at the side, but you fit into his arms and between his legs so perfectly and contentedly that he wouldn’t dare to complain. Head in the crook of his neck, your back to his chest, you melted into him, eyes closed, fingers absently and yet affectionately running over his forearms above water, sometimes along his calves.

You didn’t talk much, mostly repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that you loved him – something he found himself echoing every time – and it slipped through your lips too that while you would never change the fact that you picked him… you were sorry for being a disappointment to your father.

At that, something in Steve’s chest cracked and he swore to himself – that he would never ever be the cause of you feeling like a disappointment. And why would he – you were his perfect girl, his best girl. As much as he regretted that he indirectly did have a hand in making you feel like this now, he wouldn’t change who you were to each other and who you were had he had the chance. Never.

What he could do was to hold you tighter after your admission and whisper more sweet nonsense that made perfect sense to him to your ear.

By the time the water got cold, you were practically asleep, completely groggy, pliant. Somehow, you both climbed from the tub without sustaining any injury. He might have been holding you upright a bit as you both brushed your teeth and pulled on a pyjama.

You fell asleep almost instantly, face hidden in Steve’s chest, few stray tears dampening his sleepshirt as you mumbled one more love confession into the fabric.

“I love you, Steve... I’m sorry… you have to put up with such bullshit…” Your words slurred but Steve didn’t need to hear them to understand what you were saying.

He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the sting of guilt in his gut.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, earning a hum that might have been a sign of contentment… or you being entirely drained. “Let’s go to sleep now. Clearer head in the morning.”

Another hum and then nothing but your deep slow breathing, the last remnants of tension leaving your body.

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Steve didn’t think he would follow you to the dreamland anytime soon, too agitated, thoughts swirling wildly in his head, but he caught himself snapping back to consciousness at some point, unsure when he fell asleep – and what woke him up.

An intrusive buzzing on your nightstand provided him with the answer, your phone lit up.

Steve spared you one glance as you stirred only to nuzzle deeper into his frame, sighing.

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, he stretched over you and checked who was calling.

Blood crystalized in his veins, heart sent into frenzy as he read a simple short word.

Mom.

He squeezed the side button, silencing the vibration as he pondered what to do; and yet, even as his heart jumped to his throat – as if he was a teenager about to face his girlfriend’s parents after he took her virginity – he had already made a decision, accepting the call as you sank into the cushions without him as a pillow.

He slipped from the room as silently and quickly as possible, announcing himself before you mother could say something not meant for his ears.

“Oh. Hello, Steve,” your mother greeted him, clearly surprised – but much to Steve’s relief, not angry.

He could do this, he could talk to your mother even with the lump in his throat; could have been much worse. Could have been your father and Steve wasn’t so sure if he would manage him. For one, he would hate to be reminded, once again, of what the numerous hate letters had told him about being a total perv; for two, Steve feared he might exchange words with your father that couldn’t have been taken back and would seal the damage done to the relationship with your parents .

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She fell asleep and—I can wake her, of course, but-“ He stumbled over his words and was immensely grateful when your mother saved him from his misery; more se when she said what she did.

“-but she had a rough night. We all did. I’m okay to talk to you, Steve.”

“Alright… how can I help, ma’am?”

“Tell me how bad she is, Steve? She stopped crying before she falling asleep?” the woman on the other side asked softly, causing Steve’s heart to squeeze in a painful memory of his own kind mother, God bless her soul.

And perhaps it was that very memory that encouraged him to speak openly, the genuine worry of a mother who cared deeply for her child, her heart full of love.

How such woman could end up with such an asshole and stay with him was beyond Steve’s understanding, but he certainly wasn’t in position to judge the choices of the women in your family – after all, he was your choice and there was a long line of people who looked at the two with disdain.

“For a while,” Steve admitted with a sigh, his gaze automatically flickering towards the bedroom. “She’s—she feels like she disappointed you in a way, she’s scared of the what’s next, but she’s angry too, because she doesn’t think she did anything wrong by being with me.”

And Steve thought the same… to a point. Didn’t matter that sometimes he would find himself in a dark place where he simply awaited the moment you’d change your mind and left him; for someone your age, with better looks, someone smarted, someone funnier, someone who didn’t have to shave off his beard just so your parents made it through the front door without yelling.

Such gloomy images always left him more desperate than he was comfortable admitting and with searing jealousy in his gut.

He needed you. Yes, he’d survive if you left – but he was certain that you’d take his heart with him, leaving him unable to fall in love ever again… or to feel whole, for that matter.

“She wouldn’t leave you to get her financial support back, Steve,” sounded gently on the other end of the line and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in alarm, brief wonder if he had said any of his latest thoughts out loud.

He supposed he didn’t – your mother was just too intuitive, just like his used to be. He gulped against his dry throat, suddenly guilty for – in a way – forcing you to leave them.

“…I suppose not… I’m sorry if-- it was never my intention to steal your daughter from you, but I’m- I’m not gonna pretend I mind that she would rather be with me than had her money.”

“This is not your doing, Steve, don’t you think I don’t know that,” she continued, a subtle smile in her voice, Steve thought. “And it’s good that she’s willing to make this choice. We wouldn’t want the bride to get cold feet, after all.”

Steve’s heart stopped altogether, he was sure of it. Colour him mortified.

How the hell—but- she couldn’t--- he hadn’t proposed yet and he- what?

His stomach twisted in a tight knot. He couldn’t but ask, voice barely above whisper.

“…how did you know?”

“You stopped yourself mid-sentence, Steve. And as cliché as it sounds, you had fire in your eyes, defending my daughter. It is clear to me that you are serious about her, that you love her, and from the little I heard about you, you are the kind of man who would put a ring on it to seal the deal.”

You mother was definitely smiling now and Steve found himself doing the same, even if the lift of his lips turned sour.

“I would have asked for parents’ blessings, but…”

“I give it,” she was quick to assure him and Steve’s breath hitched, his chest puffing with pride, filling with endless relief and joy. Your mother approved of him. Even knowing who he was, how old he was, how—she was willing to give him her blessing! “You seem like a good man, Steve.”

Steve was both embarrassed and ridiculously proud when he realized he was blinking against tears gathering in his eyes, enormous weight falling from his shoulders.

“That, uhm—that means a lot, truly,” he choked out, swiftly clearing his throat, the embarrassment definitely winning now. He had to get it together before he gave out how weak he could be in front of your mother… she had given her blessing; she could easily take it back.

“I like you, Steve. You’re a good blend of an old-fashioned and modern man. Don’t mess it up and keep my daughter happy.”

“I will try my best, ma’am,” he declared in an instant, meaning every word.

A sigh sounded from the speaker. “That’s all I ask for… now the less happy reason to call. I talked to Paul, but he… I’m sorry, Steve, as for now, he still isn’t fond of you.” That didn’t surprise Steve, but it hurt nonetheless. Then again, he was grateful that your mother tried to put in a good word for him; that meant a lot too. “He only agreed to pay for three more months.”

Steve’s free hand balled into fist, the other clutching the phone considerably tighter as hot surge of anger flooded his veins.

Three more payments. As if the relationship with your family was a damn job contract and this was the notice period.

Steve was sure he was going to be sick.

“Thank you. That’s… we appreciate it,” he managed to grit through his teeth, trying his damnest to remember that he wasn’t mad at the sweet woman – only at her husband.

“You really are a good man, Steve. You’re good for her. I’m glad she found you.”

Steve would once again be entirely joyful at being at least your mother’s favour, but he heard you call out his name from the bedroom, low, hoarse and utterly confused and all he could focus on was the idea of you, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair and still adorable, looking for him in the dark room with a pout to your lips.

“Steve?” your mother called out unsurely and Steve snapped from his reverie.

“Sorry, uhm, she’s awake-- do you want me to hand you over or-“ he blurted out swiftly, hoping the answer would be no as he couldn’t wait to crawl back to bed with you.

“No, just tell her I called. I believe you two have things to talk about. Take care of my daughter, Steve. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jane, Steve,” she offered kindly just as Steve heard the soft patting on your fluffy socks on the floor.

“Yes, Jane,” he corrected himself then, unable to contain the satisfaction as he tested the name on his tongue. “Thank you, really. Goodnight.”

He ended the call as you emerged from the bedroom, squinting to the low light, your eyes instantly finding him – he automatically smiled for you, unsubtly splaying his arms wide. You didn’t hesitate, aiming straight into his embrace even if it was at snail pace.

It was funny and strange and wonderful how Steve still loved simply holding you, his heart calmer the moment he found you melting into his frame. Christ, he loved you… and clearly, your mother noticed; he was so obvious, that-

“You were gone,” you muttered into his chest discontentedly, nuzzling into him and Steve automatically cradled you to him tighter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admitted bluntly, propping your chin on his torso to look up at him, eyes growing wide and surprisingly soft with emotion. “More so because I was talking stupid and crying into your shirt instead of comforting you after my dad accused you of the things that--- those things that aren’t right.”

Steve felt the painful nudge to his consciousness, because he knew there always would be some truth to ‘those’ words; but you were here to dilute the pain and make it all better. Your care for his well-being served like a shield for the sticks and stones for now at least, when you were the priority. You had it worse at the moment, no matter what his former colleague had accused him of in those hate letters – and now your father.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about me now.”

You gazed into his eyes, pushing on your tiptoes to peck his lips and the small gesture of affection was like a balm to his soul, much like your words.

“But I do. Always. I love you, Steve… I’m sorry we can’t catch a break… but we’ll… somehow, we’ll push through, right?” you whispered, hopeful and wistfully determined and Steve could only nod, feeling the corners of his lips rising.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re my girl.”

“And you’re my guy. My prince charming,” you hummed, cradling his unusually smooth cheek, irises full of wonder, the sensation was as foreign to you as it was to him. But it was your babble that made him chuckle, the nickname that seemed to catch on; you were too cute for words. “Guess I am Cinderella after all and somehow you accidentally fell in love with me.”

“Damn right I did,” he confirmed, brushing your forehead with his lips before tugging you back to the bedroom. “Not all that glitters is gold.”

“True. Though you might have some glitter from the bathbomb on you.”

“Cheeky girl.”

He didn’t bother pretending to be offended or grumpy; he was simply too happy to see some of your snarky teasing side making its return, that was always a good sign.

“I try… but really, are you okay?”

Steve didn’t respond at first, climbing to the bed, manoeuvring you to his arms where you belonged and fit so naturally. Only when the lights were out and you were both comfortable, he replied, truthfully.

“I will be. I have you. Plus, your mum seems to be okay with me.”

More than okay, apparently.

Steve’s heart fluttered with a bit of nerves as his mind wandered to the ring he kept in the very room you fell asleep every night.

“As she should,” you hummed, sounding very pleased. “She has a nose for good people. And you’re the best.”

“After you at least.”

“Best man, then,” you argued playfully and Steve was perfectly content to have you think that. It would play in his favour when he would finally find the courage to sink to one knee in front of you.

“Well, I’m certainly a lucky one… I have the best woman.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest over the fabric of his sleepshirt and sighing blissfully. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

If you only knew how much…

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S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

Stockings (next in timeline)

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Wink wink. I once again stretched this quite a bit, but hopefully you reached this very end without skipping something ;)

Thank you for reading and extra thanks if you happen to like, reblog and/or comment. Stay safe and happy!

(Also, to American friends: I hope you'll have better Thanksgiving than this ;) )

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Nine-Part One)

Summary: After (Y/N) experiences a health scare tied to her evolving magic, she and Loki decide to take some time off from their Avenger duties to visit Asgard.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nine (Part I) September 28th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“How’s the book, doll?”

Careful to not move her head too much, (Y/N) glanced up from her novel to look at Steve, who was entirely focused on sketching her from his spot on the floor of the library. The super soldier’s brow was furrowed and his blue eyes were narrowed in concentration as he hunched over his work, his pencil flying over the large sketchbook resting in his lap. During her first week in the tower while she was still getting to know everyone, Steve surprised her by asking if she could pose for him sometime and she agreed, a little flattered that he wanted to sketch her of all people. It’s nice that he finally has the free time to do this, she thought to herself, knowing how busy he’d been the past few months with his role as the leader of the Avengers. “It’s good, but I think I prefer the movie; the humor doesn’t work as well here as it does onscreen, although that may be my childhood crush on Cary Elwes talking.” She turned the page of the book. “Have you seen The Princess Bride yet?”

The super soldier glanced up and nodded before resuming his drawing. “Yeah, Clint made me watch it a while ago, claimed it was the best movie ever made. It’s pretty good, but the best movie ever made’s actually Casablanca; you can’t go wrong with Bogie and Bergman.” He pulled away from his sketchbook to examine his work before swiftly returning to it. “So, how’s everything going with you and Loki?”

“Everything’s going great,” (Y/N)’s smile widened as she thought about her boyfriend and their incredible two months of dating. “He’s actually been talking about bringing me to Asgard to meet his mother…”

Steve’s brow rose and a bright smile played on his lips. “Meeting his mom, huh? Sounds like things really are going great.”

“Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated than that. You see, Loki and Thor haven’t explicitly said anything but I’ve got a feeling that Asgard’s not very welcoming of Midgardians, so who knows what Queen Frigga will think of me…” (Y/N) chuckled lightly, but inside her emotions were swirling. After everything Loki had told her about his mother, (Y/N) was a little nervous at the prospect of meeting such an important person in his life, but she’d been sure to hide her discomfort from him; she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by making him think she didn’t want to meet the Queen of Asgard.

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, doll. Just based on the way Thor and Loki talk about her, she sounds like a very kind woman and I’m sure that she’ll like you a lot. Hell, if you could get Tony Stark to like you after almost killing him, then I’m sure that the Queen of Asgard’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

(Y/N) suppressed her laughter at his words and felt herself begin to finally relax. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Don’t mention it,” Pulling away from his sketchbook to examine it once again, Steve smiled and looked up at her. “There, all done!” With an inward sigh of relief, (Y/N) set her book aside and stretched out her aching limbs. “You’re a lot tougher than the others, you know, they usually whine and complain whenever I have them pose for too long.”

(Y/N) chuckled, slowly getting to her feet and stretching her unusually sore legs; I must’ve pulled a muscle during my mission yesterday, she thought with an inward shrug. “I guess I’m just more patient than they are; ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ can take down countless Hydra agents in a single mission without breaking a sweat yet they can’t sit still long enough to be sketched…almost like puppies…”

Laughing, Steve got to his feet and closed his sketchbook. “Well, thanks for posing for me, doll, and I promise I’ll show it to you as soon as I touch it up.”

They walked side-by-side out of the library and down the hall. “I really should be thanking you, Steve; I’ve seen some of your sketches, and it’s an honor to have such a skilled artist choose me as his model.” (Y/N) grinned when he blushed at her compliment. “We should probably head to dinner; I think I heard Tony mention that Clint was making his world-famous lasagna.”

“Damnit, Sam and Bucky’ll try to hog the whole thing like last time…”

(Y/N) stopped walking, a sudden chill in the air causing her to shiver. “You go on ahead, Steve, I’m going to go and grab a sweater from my room. Save me some lasagna from those bottomless pits while I’m gone?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He flashed her a smile and hurried down the hall to the dining room as she turned and headed to her room. Just as she reached her door, however, she suddenly felt lightheaded. Black spots began dancing before her eyes and she leaned heavily against the wall; gasping for a breath, she tried to call out to J.A.R.V.I.S. for help but not a sound came out of her throat. Her knees finally gave way and she fell into unconsciousness before she hit the floor.

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Swirls of purple magic clouded (Y/N)’s vision before clearing to reveal two shadowy figures. They appeared to be a woman and a man but they vanished before she could get a good look at them; suddenly, a strangely-familiar voice echoed in her mind…

“She must never learn the truth of her heritage. The truth will not only destroy her, but the world as we know it…as painful as it will be for her, she must never know about her parents.” The voice waivered a little. “Goodbye, my darling (Y/N). Until we meet again in the stars…”

“(Y/N)? Darling, can you open your eyes for me? Please?”

(Y/N) was pulled out of her deep slumber by another voice. A very distressed, yet achingly familiar, voice. With a small groan, (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes and Loki’s worried face came into view. “Loki?”

Loki’s face broke out into a relieved smile but his green eyes were still filled with concern. “Thank the Norns! How do you feel?”

“I feel fine…a little cold, I guess, but other than that…” She trailed off as she looked around the room, realizing that she was once again propped up on a bed in the tower’s sickbay. “How long was I unconscious?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Frowning to herself, (Y/N) recalled her strange dream. If she’d only been unconscious for a quarter of an hour, then it would be scientifically impossible for her to experience a dream; dreams occur during the REM cycle, usually over an hour from falling asleep. However, Loki continued on before she could say anything about it. “Romanoff and I were just returning from our mission debriefing when the Artificial Intelligence informed us all that you’d collapsed. We found you in the hall and took you down here; Doctor Banner and Stark are running some tests to determine what caused your fainting spell, they should be done any minute now…”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, trying to generate enough heat to warm herself. “I think I might’ve overexerted myself during my mission yesterday; I’ve never succeeded in making something explode with my magic before and I probably used too much energy doing it…”

The day before, she and Clint were attempting to take a suspected Hydra scientist into custody in a French hospital but were forced into a high-speed chase through the city; the chase ended suddenly when (Y/N) concentrated her magic and blew up the road in front of the scientist’s car, causing it to skid to a stop and allowing them to finally apprehend him. I suppose that arresting that Hydra scientist and seeing my magic advance so much is worth the extra exhaustion, she thought with an inward shrug.

Nodding, Loki took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders before taking her hand in his. “I believe that as well, but it’s wise of Doctor Banner and Stark to evaluate your health just in case.” He tightened his hold on her hand as he continued, “Will you promise me that you’ll be more careful with your magic in the future? Remember, you need to stick around and force me to read that infernal Percy Jackson book series.” Although his voice took on a teasing tone as he repeated her own familiar words, she could clearly see the vulnerability swirling in his eyes; she could only imagine how he’d felt, seeing her unconscious and unresponsive on the ground, and her heart clenched in her chest.

“Of course I will, sweetheart…” With a small twinge of pain to her sore muscles, (Y/N) leaned forward, cupping his cheek with her hand and pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Loki immediately kissed back and released her hand in favor of wrapping his arms around her and tugged her closer to him. When she pulled away, his lips followed after hers and she couldn’t help but smile. “So, does that mean you’re finally going to read them?”

Chuckling, Loki pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. “Oh no, my love, I cannot be swayed that easily-” She interrupted him with another kiss, this time with more passion; running her fingers through his soft hair, she gently tugged on the ends and elicited a growl of satisfaction from him. To her pleasant surprise, Loki’s lips began trailing openmouthed kisses along her jaw and down to the skin of her neck, and she couldn’t hold back her breathless moan when she felt his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“Okay (Y/L/N), we’ve got your-geez, get a damn room, you guys!”

They broke apart and immediately noticed Tony and Bruce standing in the open doorway, Tony’s hand clamped over his eyes in disgust and Bruce smiling at the ground in mild embarrassment; (Y/N) was awkwardly holding her head in one of her hands and Loki was grinning roguishly, obviously enjoying the billionaire’s discomfort. “On Asgard, one knocks when they wish to enter a room; do they not have that custom here on Midgard?”

Tony shrugged and removed the hand from his eyes. “Takes too much effort. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S., can you let me know if people are gettin’ hot and heavy in a room I’m about to enter?”

“Of course, sir, although Prince Loki has a point about knocking…”

“Anyway,” Bruce stepped forward and glanced down at the medical charts in his hands. “We finished running some tests and it looks that you have a severe cold, most likely brought on by your over-exertion yesterday. I recommend bed rest for the next twenty-four hours to prevent any more fainting spells, and I’m prescribing some Tylenol and chicken noodle soup for the cold; no solid foods, which is perfect because Sam and Bucky managed to polish off all of Clint’s lasagna by themselves while you were unconscious.” The doctor smiled and patted her on the shoulder as Tony muttered threats against the two offenders under his breath. “You’ll be okay, just be more careful with your magic from now on, all right?”

She nodded and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Bruce, I’ll be more careful. Do I have to stay in here or can I go back to my room?”

“You can go back to your room; I’ll make sure to tell everyone that you’re okay so they can stop worrying, and I’ll speak with Director Fury about giving you some time off to recover. Take it easy, (Y/N).” With one last smile, Bruce left the room.

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Well…get better, Glinda, and no playing any ‘hide-the-zucchini’ for twenty-four hours, you two…” He giggled to himself as he followed Bruce out of the room, and (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“So childish, isn’t-Loki, what’re you doing?!” (Y/N) gasped in surprise when Loki suddenly picked her up in his arms and scrambled to hold onto his neck as he carried her down the hall to the elevator, afraid that she might slip out of his arms and fall.

“Doctor Banner said that you needed to rest, so I’m carrying you to your room.” Loki smiled cheekily down at her as he stepped into the elevator. “I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself by walking, my lady.”

“Oh, my savior!” She pretended to swoon in his arms and he laughed at her dramatics. The elevator shot upwards, and (Y/N) rested her head against his chest as she asked, “How was your mission?”

“Child’s play. Romanoff and I had absolutely no trouble infiltrating the meeting and collecting intel. How was your day?”

“I read a little while posing for Steve.”

Loki hummed in acknowledgement and stepped out of the elevator when it stopped. “He didn’t show you the sketch when he finished, did he?” She shook her head as they continued down the hall. “He refused to show me the sketch he did of me as well. I suspect that he’s planning a grand reveal of all the ones he’s done of everyone in the tower…thank you, darling.” He said when she opened the door of her suite for him.

“Steve sketched you?” He never mentioned anything about it before, she thought curiously.

“Yes, he did…and I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I return with your soup and medicine.” After gently setting her down on her couch, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and left the room.

Standing up, (Y/N) took a cautious step forward and when she realized she wasn’t going to fall over, she made her way to her bedroom and changed into a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. Her muscles once-again protested while she changed clothes and she dismissed it as lingering soreness from her collapse and her previous day’s mission as she sat on the couch and stretched her legs out across the cushions. Before she could reach for the magazine sitting on her coffee table, Loki returned with two soup bowls in his hands. “That was quick; maybe I should call you ‘God of Cooking’ instead of ‘God of Mischief!’”

“In this case, darling, I’m afraid that you can’t,” After handing her a bowl and a pill bottle, Loki picked up her feet, sat down and placed them in his lap. “Stark forced Wilson and Barnes to cook it as punishment for eating all the lasagna, so you have the two of them to thank for our dinner.”

“So, what’s the story behind you posing for Steve?” (Y/N) asked, blowing on her soup before taking a cautious sip.

Loki smiled and took a sip of his own soup before answering. “Well, during my first months as an Avenger I kept mostly to myself; I stayed in my room reading the books my mother gave me and only left whenever I was assigned a mission. The others, besides Thor of course, kept their distance and never attempted to be anything more than reluctant comrades-in-arms until my second month here. The others were supposed to be out of the tower, so I decided that I wanted to take advantage of their absence and read in the library for a change. When I arrived, however, Steve was already there and busy sketching the city’s skyline. I was surprised, to say the least; I never expected the soldier to have an artistic side, so I asked him about it. He told me about his childhood dream of becoming an artist and asked me about the art on Asgard; we ended up talking for quite a while, and I wound up posing for him.” Loki smile widened, a hint of admiration in his green eyes. “He was the first Midgardian I came to respect and as I gained his trust, the others soon followed until finally, I was allowed an unaccompanied trip to the local library where I met an incredibly clumsy trainee librarian…”

“I think ‘incredibly’ is a bit of an over-exaggeration, sweetheart,” (Y/N) replied grumpily as Loki smirked. “But I’m glad that Steve gave you a chance, otherwise we may have met under very different circumstances.” She shivered slightly at her own words; she was so busy as an Avenger that it was easy to forget Hydra’s attempted abduction of her all those months ago. To distract herself from her darker thoughts, she swallowed two Tylenol pills and smiled brightly. “Anyways, it’s still pretty early; did you want to read together or maybe watch a movie?”

He gave her a disapproving frown. “You heard Doctor Banner, darling, you need your rest…” When she continued to silently stare into his green eyes, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat. “You know, those enchanting eyes of yours should be classified as deadly weapons; you wield their power as skillfully as you wield a sword.”

Grinning triumphantly, she took another sip of her soup. “Thank you, Loki, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She scooted closer to him and kissed his cheek as he smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist. “How about we watch That Thing You Do? I was listening to the soundtrack this morning and the theme song made me think of you.”

“It’s not like that atrocious Grease musical film, is it?”

“I promise you that it’s better, sweetheart.”

“…Fine.”

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The next morning, (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes and smiled as she looked out her bedroom window; the sun was beginning to rise, illuminating the skyscrapers with a soft golden glow. The beautiful sight turned bittersweet as her thoughts shifted to her aunt. When she was little, her aunt would wake her up early on the weekends so they could watch the sunrise together; as they sipped on hot chocolate, the rising sun would brighten their small kitchen and instantly put the two of them in a good mood. Aunt Evelyn would’ve loved Loki, (Y/N) thought, her smile widening as she imagined the petite woman meeting the towering God of Mischief; it would’ve meant the world to her if the two most important people in her life had been able to meet.

“And Loki feels the same.” She muttered to herself, playing with the edge of her blanket as she thought about the situation. With her mind finally made up, she wrapped her arms around her pillow and continued to watch the sun light up the skyline of the city. When the sun began to shine high above the skyscrapers, there was a loud knock on her bedroom door. “Come in.” The door opened to reveal Loki, already dressed for the day and balancing a tray laden with food in one hand. “G’morning, Loki…what’s this?” She asked, sitting up in bed and putting her glasses on.

Loki grinned, setting the tray down on her lap and carefully climbing onto the bed next to her. “Breakfast in bed, of course; I wasn’t sure if you’d be feeling well enough to breakfast with the others, so I brought it to you instead.”

Smiling, (Y/N) kissed him on the cheek. “You’re amazing, sweetheart, thank you.” Egged on by her grumbling stomach, she started on her oatmeal first.

“Are you feeling any better?”

She nodded. “Yep, my muscles are still a little sore but I think my cold is gone.”

“Good, I’m glad…” Loki paused, an uncertain look on his face as his fingers fidgeted in his lap. “Darling, what would you say if I told you I asked Director Fury just now to give the both of us three weeks off?”

“Well,” (Y/N) began, suppressing her amused smile; she had a sneaking suspicion as to what he was getting at. “I’d say thank you, of course, then I’d ask you if he really agreed to that and if he did, I’d suggest that we use that time to visit your mother on Asgard. What would you say to that?” She gave him a knowing glance as she sipped her orange juice.

Loki’s lips curled into an amused grin. “I’d reply that yes, Director Fury’s been impressed with our ability to do our jobs without our, and I quote, ‘sappy romantic shit getting in the way’-” (Y/N) choked a little on her orange juice and shook her head in exasperation. “I’d assure you that he’s given us three weeks off, and then I’d agree with your suggestion, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” She joked before sobering. “I know that you think she’ll love me, Loki, but to be honest, I’ve been feeling a little nervous about meeting your mother.” When Loki opened his mouth to reply, she placed a finger on his lips to silence him; the comical look of surprise on his face nearly caused her to burst out laughing but she remained composed. “However, I also know that as long as you’re with me, I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, (Y/N),” Loki breathed before taking her face in his hands and kissing her sweetly. They parted after a moment, but he kept her close by pressing her forehead to hers. “You really are going to love Asgard, though, and I promise you that my mother will adore you just as much as I do; how could she not? You’re the kindest, most intelligent, beautiful woman in the entire universe, after all.”

“Now look at who’s the hopeless romantic.” (Y/N) teased, gently bumping his shoulder with her own as she continued eating her oatmeal. As she was finishing breakfast, Loki regaled her with talk of a rumored pranking war that was going on as a result of the hogged lasagna from the night before; I think he may need this time off more than I do, she thought pensively, watching him as he pondered aloud what clever pranks the others would come up with, a truly cheerful gleam in his eyes as he spoke.

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By the next morning, however, things were looking significantly less cheerful. As it turned out, Thor learned of their trip and decided that he would also return to Asgard to give his quarterly report on the state of Midgard to Odin. (Y/N) didn’t have any problems with Thor accompanying them; in fact, she welcomed the presence of another friendly face on their trip, but someone else didn’t see the situation quite the same way she did.

“It’s as if I’m forbidden from visiting my home realm without being on a leash,” Loki muttered darkly under his breath as he paced along the tower’s protruding helipad, his displeasure evident in his scowl and the tension of his jaw. “Held tight by my glorified babysitter.”

“Loki, you and I both know that Thor’s not coming as a babysitter; he has a report to give and it just happens to be three months since the last one.” (Y/N) lightly scolded and continued to play with the hilt of her sword from her spot next to the glass doors. She originally decided to wear her uniform to Asgard and leave her sword in her room, but her gut told her that she might need it. Probably to break up whatever fight Loki and Thor are inevitably going to get into, she thought with a sigh as she glanced at the fully armored Asgardian before her. “So, are you going to bring your mother and Samson those flowers and fruits you told me about while we’re there?”

Just as she hoped, Loki’s mood brightened at her words. “Of course; perhaps I’ll bring you along with me when I do, but I’ll have to procure another horse and teach you to ride first.”

“I look forward to it,” She flashed him a smile as the glass doors opened and Thor emerged, also dressed in his full Asgardian armor. “Good morning, Thor!”

Thor grinned down at her. “Good morning, Lady (Y/N)! Good morning, brother!” Loki’s glare did nothing to damper the Asgardian’s good spirits. “Are you ready to depart?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, but I think the others wanted to say goodbye before we leave-”

“Keep your pants on, (Y/L/N), we’re here,” Tony quipped as he walked onto the helipad, closely followed by Steve, Natasha and Bruce. “But just so you know, I’m only here to see the My Little Pony bridge, not you guys.”

Rolling her eyes as the others chortled, she gave him a hug. “Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone, Tony.”

“Trouble? Me?” Tony grinned when they separated. “Have a good time for me, Morgan le Fay.” He walked over to Thor and Loki and called over his shoulder to her, “Bring me back something cool!”

Steve was next; he wrapped his arms around her waist in his trademark bear-hug. “Keep your chin up, (Y/N), and you’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks Steve,” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile and turned to Bruce. “Since you’ll be working on that new project of yours while I’m gone, I asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to remind you to take breaks for meals so promise me you’ll listen to him, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I promise,” Bruce ducked his head shyly before pulling her in for a hug. “It’s gonna be weird not having you around for a month, but you and Loki deserve a break, (Y/N). I hope you guys enjoy yourselves!”

Natasha grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the others. “Have fun, (Y/N), but keep your eyes open and your guard up; you’re dating a prince, after all.” Her lips curled into a mischievous grin. “And I wanna hear every juicy detail about your trip when you get back, okay?”

“Nat!” (Y/N) exclaimed under her breath, a light blush spreading across her cheeks at the spy’s suggestive words; she followed Natasha back to the others and was pleased to see them wishing Loki as well as Thor a good trip. “Well, thank you guys for seeing us off; can you please tell the others ‘goodbye’ for us when they get back from their missions?”

“Sure thing, (Y/N),” Steve nodded and ushered the others away from the circle of etchings the brothers were standing on. “Keep an eye on Thor and Loki, will you? They need all the looking-after they can get!”

Giggling as the two brothers scoffed and rolled their eyes from the end of the helipad, she took her place next to Loki and rested her arm around his waist. “You can count on me, Cap.” She looked up at her boyfriend and smiled. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Loki tore his excitement-filled eyes from hers and looked up at the blue sky above them as he tightly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and as Thor thrust his hammer into the air above.

A moment later, they were encased in a rainbow of lights and (Y/N) caught one last glimpse of the four Avengers waving before the three of them were completely pulled into the swirling beam of colors.

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Nine-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

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