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aki-mochi · 3 years

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Levi x Reader: Drunk Love

WARNING: NSFW!! Levi stood there, completely nude, in front of Erwin and Hanji as he covered his stuff while avoiding their gazes. His cheeks turning pink with his hair messy with fly-aways in every direction and his body covered in bites and hickeys. Erwin stood in Levi's living room, not amused, while Hanji was laughing until she was in tears.

"Sooo...you wanna tell me why you are...?" Erwin trailed off.

"I dunno....I-I...just woke up like this...."

"You were drinking last night, huh?" Erwin asked, more like stated.

"A little...." he mumbled, then clicked his tongue.

"Woooow Levi~!" Hanji laughed more.

"Shut up" Levi slightly growled as he tried to remember his actions last night.

~flashback~

Levi sat at a table in a bar with a few of his friends and co-workers, passing time and attempting to get away from the stress of work. Eren, who happened to be one of his best workers, offered him some food while drinking his drink. No sooner did another song start to play, a familiar woman entered the bar with Mikasa.

"I've never been in a bar.” Mikasa stated.

"We can't buy alcoholic beverages so we can just have water and some food. Give us some free time from all the work we've been asked to do." Y/n replied.

She nodded in agreement, looking around at her surroundings only to see the men at Levi's table looking towards them. Truth be told, Y/n and Mikasa worked in the same building as Levi, just on different floors. The two had met on a few occasions and even had small talk in the elevator whenever they were going to the same floor for meetings, but never actually got close to one another.

Levi glanced at the two as they came in and made a bit of a face. "I guess they're getting the same thing you are, Eren." He smirked behind his glass as he looked at Eren's drink suited for him being underaged. Eren pouted and gave somewhat of a glare towards his boss. "If you weren't my boss, and I wanted to not get fired, I'd slap you like I do Horse-face." He mumbled in his glass of apple juice.

"You sound like you're plenty drunk on apples," Levi stated as he set his glass down. "Now you finally have a chance to talk to that girl. I've seen you eyeing her at work." Hearing his comment, Eren did a spit-take with his drink; coughing and pounding his chest a bit. Once he got his breath back, he looked at Levi like he grew two heads.

"Are you insane or drunk?!" He slightly yelled in a whispered tone.

"I'm neither. You shout about being better at your job than The Titan Company down the road but you can't even talk to a girl."

"Yeah?! W-well what about the girl you stare at?! You seem like you stalk her!"

"The only time I even see her is on the elevator. Are you sure you aren't drinking beer?" Levi retorted.

"I'm underage to be drinking unless someone spiked it when I wasn't looking." Eren calmly stated as he took another drink.

"If no one did, they might need to so you can actually grow some balls for at least an hour and act like a man instead of a loud little kid."

Eren glared. "Shut the hell up....I do act mature. Just on some levels." He, then, turned away to stare at the ebony female with a slight blush on his slightly dark skin.

”Can you prove that?" Levi smirked at Eren's attitude.

"What did you say?" Eren growled, thinking his boss is picking a fight when he doesn't feel like throwing a punch while Mikasa is here.

"I said to prove that you aren't a child and go talk to her," Levi told him.

"Fine. I will." He suddenly stood up and walked towards the two sisters, feeling confident in his moves. Levi smirked as he watched, wanting to see how much of a train wreck it would turn into. But the minute Eren was only five steps away, he froze. His face turned a sheer scarlet red and felt his palms get sweaty. But what he didn't expect to happen, was that Mikasa noticed him and gave a small wave to him, making him lose his cool and speed-walking back to his seat before face planting the table. Mikasa flushed a faint pink but couldn't help to give a minuscule smirk from his failure to walk over.

"You’re a wuss" Levi muttered.

"Fuck you....." Eren mumbled against the table.

Levi smirked and took a sip of his whiskey before standing. "Let me show you how it's done," he stated as Eren groaned and watched him as he made his way towards the girls.

Levi walked over to the older of the two with a confident stride, the alcohol taking the edge off of his normal attitude. Y/n was too busy talking to Mikasa to notice him. Taking a french fry off her plate, she ate it and smiled as she was talking about her latest masterpiece for the company due to being in the advertising department. Mikasa mentioned a work project that’s due next week before looking over Y/n's shoulder to see the male.

"This seat taken?" Levi asked.

Y/n turned towards the voice of the male and her eyes widened. "M-Mr. Ackerman....! It's nice to see you again." She smiled softly at him.

"The same to you" he stated. "We don't see each other often. I thought we could talk."

"Of course! Come sit with me!" She smiled and patted the seat on the other side of her. He gladly sat, looking towards Eren and winking in success mainly to show off before talking to the two women. Eren growled and slammed his hands on the table and walked over once more before offering a hand at the grey-eyed female.

"May I sit with the beauty who I'm looking at~?" He asked with a smile.

Mikasa looked and blushed brightly at his words but nodded. “Sure."

With a small hum, Eren sat beside her before gently holding her waist to bring her closer to him. Her blush darkened, looking at her plate of food like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Y/n eyed the boy, a little surprised at his actions before drinking her iced water, smirking behind her glass as she knew Mikasa has a crush on him. Levi rolled his eyes, ignoring Eren as he talked to Y/n, keeping up a conversation about her interests. About an hour later, Levi was not feeling like his usual self. His cheeks were flushed while his eyes were dilated, black pupils taking up more of his steel-blue corneas. Y/n had offered to take him home while Mikasa stayed with Eren since he's completely sober. After that, Mikasa waved as she left with the green-eyed boy.

He tried to refuse, saying he was fine but she insisted, eventually giving up as he slumped over the table. Y/n slung one of Levi's arms around her neck; the other around his waist while leading him outside. Digging in his back pocket for his wallet and keys, she pressed a button to activate its panic alarm. Upon hearing a frantic horn, she turned to her left to see the flashing lights of a sleek black Ford Mustang. After calming the automobile, she gently helped a drunk Levi into the passenger side before slipping herself behind the wheel. Y/n opened up his wallet and found a small piece of paper with his name and address written in beautiful cursive. Pulling up the GPS on her phone, she punched in his home address to help her navigate before revving up the engine and beginning to drive to him home.

Levi did his best to keep the alcohol's side effects from taking over, grinning as he remembered the feeling of her hand in his pocket but stayed quiet until they got to his house. Once Y/n had gotten him out of his car and into his house, after she had unlocked the door with his keys, she walked him to his room and placed him in bed. She gave a small huff from how heavy he is for a short man. As she tried to leave the room, Levi had grabbed her wrist to keep her in place.

"(Y/n)," he muttered.

"Levi. You're drunk. You need to rest." She said softly so as not to hurt his pounding head.

"Only if you rest with me." He said, not because of how many shots he’s had, but because he’s wanted her since the first day he saw her and this was the only way he could get himself to say it. Y/n smiled and pried his hand off her arm so she could help him get comfortable by stripping him of his clothes. Y/n flushed a scarlet red when he was now only in his briefs which held a proud tent.

He smirked a bit as he watched her. "You can look if you want"

"I-I rather not, thank you...." she stuttered before going to find him some bed clothes he could wear; giving him time to look over her body that was shown by the jeans and shirt she's wearing. Her hair pulled up into a ponytail and her feet dressed in regular tennis shoes. He blushed from more than the booze in his system as he looked over her, letting her help him dress before laying in the bed with him. Y/n covered him up along with herself and sighed softly as she turned her back to him so she can sleep since it's after midnight.

But with Levi still drunk, he couldn't go to sleep. No. He didn’t want to go to sleep. He had a beautiful woman in his bed and he wanted her to be his woman. No one else’s. Levi took advantage of his drunk state and suddenly rolled Y/n onto her back, pinning her to the bed. She blinked, shocked from his sudden actions.

"L-Levi....?" she stuttered.

"Y/n.....~” he purred in her ear while sliding his hands up her shirt, making her shiver at his cold slender hands on her heated skin. "Let me love you," he whispered before colliding her lips with his own, making her body stiffen. She soon felt intoxicated by his touch and kissed him back, craving for more as she entangled her fingers into his soft black hair as she moaned.

Levi kissed her deeply as his hands made their way to her breasts, feeling the soft flesh against his skin. Arching her back at the feeling, she pulled away from his lips for air but gasping the minute he latches his own to her sensitive neck. She moaned his name when he bit her neck then pulled back with a smirk. Y/n looked down to see that Levi had, somehow, stripped her bare naked without her noticing. Trailing kisses down her body, she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair again as she closed her legs when he got between them. He rubbed her thighs soothingly before kissing them to help her relax. Once he thought she was ready, Levi opened her legs and placed his head between them. His tongue slid along her folds before flicking at her clit. Her hips jolted upwards while her fingers tugged at his hair, giving loud lewd moans.

Levi smirked and started to go faster, making her squirm and squeal in complete ecstasy as he tasted every inch of her. He then sucked her bundle of nerves into his mouth as his tongue did wonders. Y/n panted as she arched her back off the bed while her head flew back into the pillows, desperately wanting to move away but his hands held her down in place as he ravished her more. His teeth gently grazed her clit, making her lose control of the volume of her moans as they got even louder before she finally released with a squeak. But Levi kept going, making her beg as he continued to drain her of every drop before pulling off with a small pop. A trembling Y/n laid there panting heavily as Levi licked her clean, sitting up to look down at the beautiful sight under him. Levi chuckled and laid beside her with his arm draped over her waist.

Y/n calmed down from her overstimulated high before she made the bold move to pin him to the bed instead. Levi looked up at her in slight shock from the sudden move before his breath started to hitch when she started to rub the bulge in his pants. She hummed and stripped him bare of any clothes before suddenly going down to suck his cock. Levi's hips bucked at the sudden pleasure of her hot mouth on him, panting as he felt her tongue do circles around the tip.

"(Y-Y/n)~" Levi moaned as he gripped the sheets. "Ngh...! I-I'm gonna....! Ah!" he gave a loud moan as he came in her mouth. Y/n swallowed it all, a little disappointed that he came that quick, and sat up before marking him in hickeys and love bites, loving the sounds that were coming from his mouth. After she was satisfied with her work, she straddled his hips before pushing herself onto him, making her gasp and him moan. When she felt comfortable, she bounced on him as her hands rested on his chest. Loud slapping noises of skin colliding and loud moans filled the room. Y/n decided to bounce faster and go all the way down, earning her a loud moan from Levi as he gripped her hips to help her keep steady.

Pretty soon they both hit their high and came together. Y/n collapsed onto Levi's chest, panting heavily as he held her close to him. Having to pull out, he laid both their bodies on the bed and pulled her to his chest after covering them both with the blanket and going to sleep.

~back to the present~

Y/n walked out of the bathroom only to see a naked Levi standing there, in front of his boss and co-worker as he tried to suppress his blush. Smirking, the said female walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and satisfied hum.

"Don't worry, Mr. Smith~. Levi was a good boy last night with all the moans I made him do~."

At that, Hanji ran out with Erwin on her tail, trying to suppress their nose bleeds while Levi was a blushing mess at the moment from her comment. Y/n laughed at his reaction and kissed him briefly before giving him a warm smile and going to make breakfast. Levi sighed as he went back to his room to get dressed.

'Maybe getting drunk wasn't so bad after all......'

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ashspn · 3 years

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All of my love

*Not my gif* *Major character death*

Dean was pissed. Which when was Dean not pissed. This time he had a good reason. This was the first time that he could have everything he ever wanted, and he got it. He got the love of his life, the beautiful home, the dog, and two kids. The apple pie life. Sam was happy and healthy being with Eileen and becoming the leader of the North American hunters. Dean often told Sam that this was what he was meant to be. He was a natural-born leader. Sam would often call begging for him to come back to the team. Sam loved to try to seduce him with the monster of the week, but he always says no. After his brush with death, even though he had experienced that feeling way too many times and never felt anything of it, that last time felt different for him. It felt real until the paramedics showed up and pumped him with so much medicine and fluids that he didn’t even ask what was in most of the needles. To tell you the truth that time he might have actually felt ready to go. Life at that point in time wasn’t great with Cas gone, Jack being God and Sam had Eileen. He was feeling hopeless. All he knew was he was thankful that Sam told him to shut up about letting him go and called 911. When he woke up in his bed after hours of surgery, he expected life to be the same. It wasn’t because he had gorgeous blue eyes staring back at him and holding his hands waiting for him to wake up.

“Dean!” Cas jumped up to run and grab the rest of the family, but Dean squeezed his hand for him to stay. Cas stopped looking down at the unbreakable man. He hated seeing him looking like this because it reminded him of a time that seemed like a lifetime ago when Dean was forced to take on Alistair all because he asked him to. Cas looked back at the door knowing Sam would want to know right away but then he looked down at Dean and saw the haunting in his eyes. Cas sat back down allowing Dean a moment to collect his thoughts before he dragged everyone in.

5 years prior

“Cas.” Dean whispered. His voice was hoarse, and his throat was so dry. Everything hurt but more importantly his back where the nail shoved right through.

“Cas, how are you even here man? I saw you get taken. Jack said it wasn’t possible to bring you back.” Cas smiled down at him. Dean scrunched up his face knowing something was different. Something was off about Cas.

“We found a loophole. No more grace means I’m human and humans don’t go to the empty.” Dean dropped Cas’s hand in shock. Cas was an angel. That was who he was. Dean wouldn’t have cared anyway if he had powers or not but the thought of Cas giving up who he always been was hard for Dean to wrap his head around. Dean didn’t know if he could give up being a hunter. That was who he was.

“Cas are you sure you wanted to do that. Are you okay with being a human?” Cas gave him a soft look.

“Dean, all I wanted was to be able to come home. Now I can enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again.” Dean chuckled but then winced in pain. Cas came forward wanted so badly to be able to heal him. That was one thing Cas missed about being an angel. When Jack pulled him out the first thing Jack said was Dean was hurt. Cas didn’t care about anything else. He needed to get to Dean. Jack zapped Cas into the waiting room right as they were wheeling Dean into surgery. His breathing was shallow, and he was covered in so much blood. Cas tried placing a hand on Dean to heal him, but nothing worked. Cas knew that but that meant it didn’t hurt any less. Then he was pushed aside by a doctor left alone until Sam came in.

“I’m fine,” Dean waved him off so not to worry. “Well, I’m glad you’re back buddy. Where’s Sam?”

Present-day

Dean paced the bunker library trying to process what Sam was trying to tell him. All he heard was white noise. “Sam, stop! What do you mean that my daughter and my husband are missing? This hunt was supposed to be a milk run.” Dean turned to leave to head towards the weapons room to get every weapon known to man to save his family. Sam ran after him trying to make him stop and listen to him, but Sam knew he lost Dean a long time ago when he said Claire’s GPS was disconnected and Cas’s phone wasn’t answering. Claire and Cas had gone out on a hunt against a werewolf. It was a very simple hunt that both of them had dealt with a million times. At the end of the day, Claire could have done it by herself and been home in time for dinner. Cas insisted to go with her saying he missed her and wouldn’t mind helping her with this case. He even dug his old trench coat out for his FBI uniform. All that was running through Dean’s mind was how could this happened. The nightmares were supposed to be over.

“Dean, will you just listen before you go guns a-blazing.” Dean whipped around with fire in his eyes.

“I’ve been listening Sam. It sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me! Either you come with me and help or get out of my way.” Dean began gathering every silver item they had in the weapons room not caring if he looked crazy to Sam or not.

“Dean, you haven’t been on a hunt in five years so can you please slow down so we can think about what to do.” Sam snatched the duffel bag out of Dean’s hands so that Dean would finally listen to him.

“What are you trying to say I’m not capable to deal with a werewolf. That I’m rusty just because I chose to retire. That doesn’t mean I still don’t know what I’m doing. I’m still one of the best damn hunters out there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Trust me no one could replace THE Dean Winchester besides THE Claire Winchester. So, yes, I’m worried too. I was the one that assigned Claire the case after all because I knew she could have done it. Clearly, we don’t know what we are getting ourselves into if both her and Cas are in trouble.” Dean took the duffle bag taking a deep breath. He knew Sam was right but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared.

“Ahhhh!” Cas blinked his eyes open at the sound of his daughter screaming out in pain. Dizziness was washing over him making it hard to concentrate where she was or where he was. The room was dark with only a flicking light bulb dangling from the ceiling. He could feel his hands and feet were bound by rope to a pole and he could see he was the only one there.

“Ahhh!” Another scream echoed throughout the house. Cas tried to pull his limbs free with no success. He could feel a nail was poking out. He rubbed his wrists up and down feeling the binds loosening with each swipe until finally, his hands were free. He ripped the bounds from his ankles, beginning to run to the door. His main priority was to find Claire and get out. He pulled his phone out dialing the only number he ever needed in the world.

The road felt long and bleak. Dean never would have said he loved life on the road, but he also didn’t hate it as much as he did now. The road was home once upon a time but now it felt like a burden. Home was the log cabin with the lake in the back. He and Castiel often found themselves on the dock fishing for hours even though Cas often asked why Dean found it relaxing to fish when he never caught anything. Dean smiled to himself missing his angel. His smile grew wider as he thought about how Claire and Jack often came to visit too. Both grown and out of the house, but Sundays were for the family after all. Dean cooking on the grill and Cas baking a pie in the kitchen while Jack and Claire fight like kids over the remote control. Dean knew that his kids' lives were never going to be normal and they never were but at least that one day of the week Claire and Jack were able to be normal people.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He reached down to grab his phone out of his pocket not even bothering to look at the name.

“Dean, I’m in a house off of road spring flower. Claire is here but she’s hurt but I’m not sure where she is. Dean, I am so sorry. I was supposed to protect her.” Dean was trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Cas. Cas was okay and alive. Claire was too.

“Cas wait slow down. Tell me exactly where you are. I am driving to you now.” Cas let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Dean’s voice steadies him and made him more focused. As he kept running trying to find where his daughter was; he tried to give Dean as much detail as he could remember but most of it was foggy.

“I’m sorry Dean, everything is still scrambled. It might have been white. I don’t know.” Cas huffed.

“Buddy, it’s okay. Just stay on the line until I get there. Everything will be okay.” Dean reassured. Cas trudged forward seeing all of the horrors that were laid around him. Bloodstained the walls and flesh littered the floor. He sucked in a breath trying really hard not to get nauseous.

“Hey, how did you escape from your bounds?” Cas stopped in his tracks to face a werewolf or that was what he thought. The monster was like a large man, but his teeth were pointy like a vamps’, but his eyes shone like a werewolf. Cas pulled out a silver blade just in time to cut the monster as he swung at his head. The creature jumped back with a yelp but the spot on his arm didn’t burn like it should if he was a werewolf.

“Where’s my daughter, you assbutt?” Cas exclaimed.

“Cas, Cas what’s going on? Who’s there?” Dean shook with fear. He just got Cas back he didn’t want to think what would happen if he died and he wasn’t there to save him. “Cas, hold on and don’t do anything stupid.” All Dean could hear on the other end was fighting and a lot of grunting. It didn’t sound good. Dean pushed the car harder even though she was going as hard as she could already. Almost there he thought. Almost there.

“Cas!” Dean shouted one last time as the line went dead. “Son of a bitch!” Sam looked over at him with concern, but Dean couldn’t focus on Sam’s worrying about him, he needed to save his family.

Every hit Cas got in the monster got three times the amount. All he could hear was a distant sound of Dean’s voice which was the only thing keeping him up. His vision was blurred and knew he might have a couple of broken ribs but he kept pushing. Cas swung one more time missing completely. Then the next thing he knew he felt a fist connect to his skull and the world went black.

“Dean, slow down. You can’t save them if we are both dead.” Sam braced on for dear life as Dean whipped the car around a curve sending the tires to screech. Dean didn’t listen he kept trucking forward. All he could think was five more miles, three more miles, one more mile until he slammed his breaks to find them in front of the house. Dean jumped out running to the trunk grabbing everything he could carry that wouldn’t slow him down. Sam wasn’t too far trying to get him to slow down.

“Wait, we need a plan before we go in there and get ourselves killed or Cas and Claire.” Dean glared at him. He had a plan to kill all of those sons of a bitches and get his husband and daughter out safely. “Dean, that’s not a plan that’s suicide.”

“And they are in there hurt or dead by now because I wasn’t there to protect them and the longer, we sit out here arguing the greater the chances we have of finding them dead. Let’s go because it’s only you and me. Jack’s not answering which next time I see him I’m going to ground him.” That was what Dean had on the subject.

Dean looked around the house trying to focus himself, so he didn’t get sick. He dealt with a lot in his life but nothing would have prepared him for the gore that was in this house. He kept walking until he came upon a broken phone. Cas’s phone. He picked it up and showed Sam. Sam nodded understanding they must be close.

“Dean, go find Cas and I will look for Claire.” Dean looked down at the phone and shook his head no. Sam gave him a perplexed look of confusion. Any other day Dean would be the first one on the finding Cas team even before they were in a couple. What changed?

“Cas and I had a deal that if this ever went down. Whichever one of his was kidnapped along with Claire or Jack we would forget about the other and find them first. You go get Cas. I got Claire.” Sam nodded and understood.

“Such a pretty girl. You know you would be a nice trophy to keep with my others.” Claire breathed heavily glaring at her captive. She spat at him landing it right below his left eye. He wiped it off giving her a grim smile. “Now that isn’t very lady-like, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m no lady and I ain’t your sweetheart either you piece of shit.” She growled. He gripped her jaw bringing her face real close. All she could smell was the rotting flesh from his last meal. She tried to turn away, but he pulled her back to face him.

“That is no way to speak to your master. Apologize or you get burned again.” She kept her mouth shut without breaking eye contact. “Fine, here you go sweetheart.” He stabbed the hot iron once again releasing a scream from her throat. The pain made her want to blackout. All she saw was the sheering pain of white behind her eyelids as he kept pressing harder.

“Hey, asshole. Get your grimy hands off of my daughter.” The creature pulled away to turn around to see the Dean Winchester. The man they told stories about to scare monster children to bed. This man was supposed to be dead. The monster lunge at Dean but didn’t get far before he shot off three rounds. He only needed one but the other two were for what he did to his daughter. Dean put the gun away and ran over to Claire. He found she was unconscious. He tried to wake her up with a couple of shakes, calling her name out.

“Come on, baby girl, wake up. Please we got to go and find your pops.” Finally, he could see her blue eyes blink open. She smiled when she realized who was there to rescue her.

“Sam is looking for him. I talked to him thirty minutes ago before he was taken again. Come on we need to get you out of here.” Claire tried to protest, wanting to stay and find her pops. Dean didn’t listen and half carried her out of the doorway towards the exit.

“Dad.” Dean pulled her close letting the tears he didn’t realize he was holding in escape down his face. She tried to hug him, but she was too weak to raise her arms.

“Dad, where’s pop?” Dean shush her and ran a hand down her hair trying to soothe her.

Sam slowly made his way down the steps towards the basement making sure to be careful not to make a sound. So far so good, but he feared that as he made his way farther down, he would find something he didn’t want. He did. He found Cas bloody and bruised; chained to the ground passed out.

“Cas get up. Dean is not going to be happy about this.” Sam leaned down to haul his brother-in-law up and tried to carry him up the steps until Cas woke up trying to swing at him.

“Get your hands off of me you monster.” Sam grabbed his hands to stop him from hurting himself even more.

“Stop, it’s me, Sam. I’m taking you home.” Cas blinked recognizing the familiar figure.

“Where’s Dean?” He asked.

“He went to find Claire. We are going to meet him at the Impala.” Cas stopped in his tracks with panic in his eyes. “Cas, what’s wrong.”

“We need to get to Dean right now.” Cas broke free from Sam’s grasp, trying to run up the steps before his legs gave out from him.

“Cas, Dean will be fine besides you can’t help him much when you can barely stand.” Cas tried to haul himself up, but Sam came over to help him instead.

“You don’t understand. These are not monsters we have ever face before shooting them doesn’t kill them, silver doesn’t hurt them, nor does holy water. I have no clue what we are facing.” Cas exclaims. Sam took hold of Cas’s arm trying to steady him once again to help him up the stairs. Sam knew that Dean who kill him if he tried to divert from the plan of saving Cas. He just worried about getting them to the car.

After a few feet of walking, Claire felt better. She wasn’t one hundred percent but at least she wasn’t on the verge of passing out again. That didn’t convince Dean though. He kept trying to steal quick glances at her to make sure she was okay.

“Dad, I’m fine. Does everything hurt yes but nothing but a little whisky and a movie night won’t heal? Please stop worrying and keep your eyes peel. These monsters are unique. They are nothing we have ever seen before. I don’t even think they are in the lore.” Dean nodded trying to focus on the mission.

“You know I will never stop worrying about you or your brother. Even if he might be God.” Claire rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Hey, I know I’ve told you this one too many times, but I wasn’t supposed to have this. I wasn’t supposed to have you two and your father be in my life. I wasn’t supposed to have a family. I was destined to die at twenty-five by the hands of a creature.” Claire smiled at him because she felt the same way. Dean pulled her in for a side hug when he pulled away, he saw the love of his life staring at him.

“Pops!” Claire exclaimed running to hug him. Cas prepared for the embrace and wrapped his arms around her not wanting to let go. His little girl was safe and didn’t look as hurt as he thought she was going to be. As he was hugging her Cas looked up to see his husband smile back at him with tears forming in his eyes. Cas smiled back slowly moving towards Dean after Claire pulled back.

“Cas,” Dean whispered taking in how badly hurt his love was. Dean swore that after this hunt he was going to convince Cas to hang it up. No more hunts, no more missions. Just living the quiet life and helping through the use of the home. Dean didn’t think he could go through this one more time, but he also said that last time they were in this situation.

“Dean.” Dean pulled Cas in for a gentle kiss leading into a hug. Cas found himself sink into the embrace wanting to rest in the warmth of Dean’s arms. Their reunion was cut short by Claire’s shout of a lookout. Dean turned around to see the monster he had killed or well he thought had killed was still up and moving with no visible wounds. What the hell he thought. He shoved Cas behind him and ready his weapon in hand. How was this bastard still alive? Dean swung his knife at him, and the thing dodged each swing.

“Dad, be careful,” Claire screamed.

“Sam! Get them out of here now.” Dean yelled trying to fight off the monster, but each attack didn’t prevail. It was like this thing was indestructible. Claire tried to push forward but Cas caught her in his arms pulling her back.

“No, we are not leaving without you,” Claire exclaimed. Dean turned to smile at her.

“Go baby girl. I will be right behind you.” Then the world stood still. Dean looked down to see the blade go right through his chest and be pulled out. Dean looked up at his family as he fell to his knees.

“Nooo!” Claire screamed running to him kneeling down to pull him into her arms.

“Dean!” Sam and Cas shouted. Sam pulled out his machete and cut the creature's head clean off. Cas stood in place not able to process what just happen. Claire sobbed in his chest and he shushed her trying to soothe her till his final breath.

“No, no. You can’t die. Not yet. Dad, I love you too much. Please don’t leave me” Claire cried. Dean rubbed a hand down her hair.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Claire, it’s okay sweetheart.” Dean whispered.

“It’s not fair. I can’t lose you too.” Cas came behind her rubbing her back as he looked down at the man that couldn’t die.

“I know, darling. You made my life better. You all made me so happy. Tell your brother I love him.” Dean’s breath hitch and his hand that was in Claire’s hair fell to his side. The great Dean Winchester was dead.

Claire sobbed screaming, begging for him to hold on. “Jack! Where are you? Jack!”

Sam held Claire as Cas mustered the strength to wrap Dean’s body in cloth. Sam volunteered to do it, but Cas said he needed to. He needed to say his goodbyes alone. Sam understood because Dean said the same thing when they burned Cas so many years ago. As they waited outside, they saw a figure come towards them.

“Jack?” Jack came towards them looking off. Claire and Sam couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but they could tell something was up. “Jack, we have been praying for you. Where have you been?” Claire hissed not able to raise her voice from a whisper.

“I’m sorry angel radio is turned off. I had no way to communicate with anybody. They had me locked away.” Jack said.

“Who had you locked away? What happened Jack?” Sam asked. Jack took a deep breath without a pause to look around to notice his fathers were missing.

“The angels. They have begun to rebel. They don’t like that I have chosen to take a hands-off approach. They believe I should step into people's lives but I have no desire to. Where are my fathers?” Sam and Claire gave him a sad look. “What? What’s wrong?” Claire came towards him trying to break the news as gently as she could.

“Dad’s dead,” Claire said. Jack gave her a perplexed look out of disbelief. His dad was dead. He knew death wasn’t final for them. He could go see Dean in heaven, but it wasn’t the same. No more Sunday night dinners with all of them at the cabin. Dean wouldn’t be able to take him fishing down at their lake. Everything in heaven was very artificial and with what was going on in heaven he didn’t know how much longer heaven would stand.

“I wasn’t here to save him. I’m so sorry. I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Claire pulled him into a hug as he kept repeating that he didn’t get to say goodbye.

Cas stared at the lifeless body that once held the spirit of the man that could have put the fear into any man, monster, or creature. That could have put a smile on anyone’s face with his child-like wonder. The man that had finally defeated all of his demons. The man that was supposed to live the rest of his life easy and happy till he was old and gray. The man that fell in love with a fallen angel and made that angel feel loved for being who he was.

Cas pulled the sheet over Dean’s face. Most days he would blink back the tears but today he let each one fall slowly. He gentle tied each rope around his beloved's body taking his time, not ready to say goodbye.

“Dean Winchester.” Cas closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “The man, the myth, the legend. I love you.” Cas tied the last knot and went out to grab Sam to help him carry his husband’s body to the pyre. As they carried him, he could see his children console each other. Claire holding Jack as they both wept watching their father’s body being placed on top. A signal of a final goodbye. Cas walked over to them wrapping them both into his arms as they watch the whole thing go up in flames. Cas held his children tight knowing they had a lot to figure out. Like what the hell was going on with Jack, where did those monsters come from, and to process the thought for the first time Dean was actually gone with no way back.

#Destiel #dad dean #dadstiel #ash's blurbs #character death #deancas

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fangirlxwritesx67 · 4 years

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Looking For A Black Cat

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3, 1550 words. Sam x Rowena, side of Dean. Memory loss, cute animals, food, and fluff.

Your name is Sam Winchester. You are a soldier who lost your memory in a battlefield injury. It is Wednesday, so you volunteer at the animal shelter today.

Sam found himself mouthing the words along with the electronic voice coming from his phone. Good, he remembered that much. It was going to be a good brain day, maybe even better than normal.

He showered and shaved, dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Why he owned so many was a mystery to him, but they were comfortable, especially on cool fall days like this.

He was ahead of the voice on the phone, headed to the kitchen for a smoothie, where he discovered Dean eating a plate full of pie and ice cream. Dean, his brother, was the one person he never forgot. He had been injured at the same time and the same way as Sam. The two of them did their best to support and help one another.

Memories of the day before came flooding back. It had been a bad brain day, one of the worst, the kind that only happened a couple of times a year. Helpless and frightened, he had knocked his head on the shared wall of their duplex. At the time, he hadn’t realized what he was doing, but the sound had been enough to summon his brother.

Had Dean slept over? Maybe that was why he was in his kitchen eating dessert at 730 in the morning.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked as he poured himself a cup of the coffee his brother had made.

“I was out of food so I came over to see what you had.” His words were light but his face reflected his concern. That was typical Dean, always downplaying his role in caring for others.

Sam rolled his eyes, wordlessly reassuring his brother that he was fine. “Or you could, you know, go grocery shopping.”

“But you’re better at grocery shopping than I am! Besides, why did you buy apple pie and ice cream if it wasn’t for me? You know that’s my favorite thing.”

Sam did, in fact, not know that, but it sounded right. As he headed to the fridge, he looked more closely at the shopping list hanging there. At the bottom of his neatly organized shopping list, cross referenced with a weekly meal plan, it said: PIE That was definitely not his handwriting.

“Dean.” He turned and smiled fondly at his brother, who grinned happily.

“Thanks for remembering, big guy. Hey, don’t you have to go to work? Go snuggle some puppies or something?”

It is time to leave the house. It is time for your shift at the animal shelter.

The electronic voice cut in before they could argue further. Sam shook his head and grabbed his keys. His GPS gave him directions but he seemed to know where he was going so he tuned out as he drove.

If it was going to be a good brain day, then maybe, just maybe- Sam tried his hardest to push his mind back, to discover anything from his past. But everything before his injury was a blank.

Whoever he had been before, whatever he had done, was buried. The only thing he ever got was flashes in his nightmares, faces and flames that crumbled into ash the minute he woke up. No matter how hard he tried, his past was lost to him. He had his brother, and he got out alive. Maybe that was enough.

“Hey, Winchester,” his boss Billie greeted him. He wondered, sometimes, how much she knew. She was always patient, always generous and gave him all the help he needed. A warm smile lit her beautiful brown face.

“I have a grant-writing seminar to attend, Sam, so it’s up to you today. You good with that?” Before she left, she pointed him to the drawer in the filing cabinet that had his name.

The neatly organized rows of folders looked familiar, each one with the name of a cat or dog that was waiting to find a home. He looked through them, recognizing his own handwriting. He had made meticulous notes that would help an animal get adopted and help their new humans care for them.

There was also a bell, and a sign that at one point he must’ve made. With the Animals Ring Bell for Service

Like most weekdays, it was a slow day. Walking back into the rooms full of animal cages felt like coming home. The sounds of the animals, barks and yelps and even a few eager mews, were welcoming. Even the smells of fur and cleaner and animals were earthy and grounding.

The dog room was the largest, cages lining both sides. He took his time with each one, petting them and giving them attention. Once he was done with the dogs, he moved on to the cats. Cats were more of a mystery, less outwardly affectionate. He spoke to them softly, even the ones who seemed to ignore him.

At lunchtime, a man came in with his little girl. He and his wife had adopted a dog over the weekend, but something wasn’t quite right. The man told Sam how his new dog could barely sleep, could hardly eat, always seemed to be looking for something.

Sam nodded. Even without consulting his notebook, he knew which dog that was - one of a bonded pair. The two dogs had been kept in adjoining cages and let out in the yard for playtime together. When one was fed, they waited for the other to eat. When they slept, they curled up so their backs were touching through the wire mesh of the cages.

The family was already vetted, so it was easy for Sam to approve the second adoption. He smiled as he watched father and daughter leave with the dog and imagined the reunion that would happen when they got home. He wondered, sometimes, if he and Dean were like that, a bonded pair, unable to really exist without the other.

After that, he was alone again until it was almost closing time.

The red-headed woman who stepped through the door instantly drew his attention. Not only was she strikingly attractive, but she had a presence that seemed to fill the room. Her bright smile was the most beautiful thing he could remember seeing.

“I’m Rowena and I’m looking for-

“-a black cat. I know.” Sam didn't know exactly how he knew that, but it seemed right, and she nodded approvingly.

He gestured towards the cat room and she led the way. He couldn’t help watching her as she walked, the precise rhythm of her steps, the easy sway of her hips. No, that seemed rude. When they got to the row of cages, she turned to face him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was stunning, with big green eyes and a profile like a cameo piece.

“No!” Rowena stomped one heel, startling him with her sudden flash of temper. “These are the same cats you had last week. I don’t want kittens, or ginger cats, or any other common moggie. I need a black cat.”

Sam was taken aback, but he had to try. “Ma’am, have you ever met Mamacita?”

She crossed her arms and pouted. “Is she some secret black cat you’ve been keeping from me?”

“Well, no, she’s not a black cat. But maybe, just, look at her?” He couldn’t say why this cat and this woman needed to meet. Maybe it was something he had known and forgotten. Maybe not. But he gestured to the cage that held the reclusive calico.

Rowena hardly had to bend down to see the cat in her cage. The cat hissed, as expected. Then to Sam’s surprise, she called and Mamacita came closer. She kept her distance, still, but seemed interested.

“Ohhh,” the woman cooed softly. “I see. You’re a mama cat, aren’t you, but you’ve lost your kittens and your home. You’re scared because you don't know who you are anymore.”

Rowena slipped her delicate fingers through the bars of the cage and Sam watched in shock as Mamacita approached. At first, the cat was suspicious, sniffing the painted nails, but then gave in and leaned into the woman’s hand.

The two of them spent several moments in quiet communication before Rowena stood up. Shaking her skirts and tossing her curls, she set her chin.

“A lovely tortoiseshell, no doubt. But I need a black cat. I’ll be back next week, as always. I hope you’ll have one for me then.”

It was closing time, so Sam locked the door behind her as she left. The room seemed suddenly empty, darker without her. He stood there for a moment, trying to sort out the swirl of thoughts and feelings in his mind. Who was she? Why did it seem like he should know her?

As always.

He must’ve seen her here before. That explained why she looked familiar. It didn’t explain why he was so drawn to her, why he felt almost bewitched in her presence. It certainly didn’t explain the sense of loss that came over him when she was gone. He shook his head slowly. It was something he would never know.

Stay tuned for 3 more chapters of this story!

Thanks to @mskathywriteswords for the preread and encouraging me to see where this story goes!

SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @defenderrosetyler @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting

Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Dean Curious:@adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Rowena My Queen: @delightfullykrispypeach @lilsylvia @marril96 @pansexualdarling @songofthecagedmoose

#looking for a black cat #sam x rowena #rowena fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #winchester brothers fanfiction

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technobladetimestamps · 3 years

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Oct 5 Stream Timestamps

Timestamps from Technoblade’s “preparing for war (dream SMP)”

Link to my youtube comment with all of the timestamps x

Timestamps with hyperlinks below

01:36 Tommy told him not to stream / would tell us to subscribe but we’re all notification gang 03:35 intro / Tommy woke him up to help with a fight / looking for a thumbnail / jester_u never lets me down 06:21 back to the Tommy story/ if he’d had more stuff he would have 1v5’d / hunt for mending villager / failing to craft a lectern 10:23 mining off camera / horse breeding off camera 12:57 fancy horse is named Andrew / fast but can’t jump / secret horse facility / in between horse numbers are dead 19:43 lots of villages / “equestrian expert” / breeding explanation / “got to kill like 9/10 of the babies because they’re worthless average babies” 22:00 calling Awesamdude a noob / percentile system doesn’t work like that 25:05 almost roasts us for watching him but decides not to complete that sentence 26:18 trying to do interesting streams but everyone is nice only when he's live 28:28 "oh no my water spilled...also I have a second glass of water that i'll drink from" / floating snow trap 29:28 "offering" villagers jobs to get a mending villager 35:13 "Whichever one of you gets the mending book gets to live" 37:29 reading server rules / not breeding bc that wouldn't be pg / "these villagers don't deserve to pass on their jobless genes" 41:05 gets a mending villager / villager tries to die 45:08 trading with fletchers / "just cause I hit them in the face with an axe a whole 5 minutes ago" 46:59 "You've got to cut down the trees before the burn down in a giant fire" / criticizing the blaze rod achievement 48:24 hard to get special arrows without villager breeding / gonna destroy everyone once fully geared 55:28 how to become a human gps? 59:35 "I haven't killed a single baby on this stream" / "imagine putting off college to be Technoblade" 1:12:30 texts to dad during $100k duel 1:16:52 John Mulaney / "I read words I don't hear them, because people don't speak to me. I'm not sad you're sad" / blow up the sun / deleted for bad grammar / "Lesbian Rights" / "actually funny" 1:22:03 making fun of a scam text 1:23:01 "say ommf in a high voice" / "it's been over two years from my last compliment" (dono) 1:27:15 naming pickaxe / sword / trident / potions / water elevator 1:33:37 lying to Eret about having mending books / kelp / hbomb adver.tising his challenge 1:36:23 "opportunity to steal something from Sapnap" / totally didn't scam Tommy out of a god apple 1:38:51 liked the Sadist dual animation / lesbian's are still the only ones with rights / knows about turtle potions 1:42:59 stole the name Technoblade 1:45:26 too much of a hoarder to use god apples or regular golden apple 1:46:19 doing hbomb's slimeblock challenge / chat lying about Dream being under Techno's base / pufferfish 1:56:56 FIRST TRY BABY / call with Hbomb 2:06:48 chat tries to prank Techno and he immediately finds diamonds / "Everything's coming up Technoblade" 2:10:09 had a cough for a year / not covid / going to the nether 2:23:13 needs new glasses 2:25:24 has been eating 50% cheeseburgers lately / guy who's been up 20 hours / no bannerlord / fortresses are the bane of speedrunners now 2:30:30 likes on brand fanart slightly more (for thumbnails mostly) 2:39:50 Eret gives coords for a nether fortress / taco bell challenge ending / glad he quit / bargaining with Awesamdude 2:44:29 being risky for the suspense but completely incapable of dying 2:52:26 "cause I'm built different" / "you have been noticed" / heading to the Eret fortress 3:00:00 Techno is very confused by the bastion / "Pig King among the Pigmen" (Eret) 3:28:00 Tommy in chat / Techno being bitter about Tommy telling him not to stream / Techno leaving the nether to portal travel to the fortress / Philza can't call he's sleeping 3:32:00 cows jumping into water / teleporting cow 3:39:01 pink sheep / "Now that I have seen a statistically improbable sheep i'm going to find stacks of netherwart” 3:44:35 "That dolphin is vibing...I aspire to that level of vibe" 3:50:35 directions from Eret / "Just cause the chat has trust issues" 3:54:30 (loud) "NOT EVEN CLOSE BABY TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES" / "Yeah I am very lucky I was born Technoblade" 3:59:48 getting 6 wither skulls 4:04:40 this was scarier than most tournaments 4:08:42 "This is main character energy" / would kill the turtles if they dropped anything / "I would never kill a defenseless animal, unless it had bad stats 4:10:26 "No amount of money is worth the puns" / typo in last stream title 4:14:32 "We're going to make good use of these wither skeleton skulls" / foreshadowing / "I'm not killing pigs that's not kosher" 4:16:37 not gonna ask people to make new accounts to subscribe 4:23:45 It'd be homophobic to only spawn a wither in the rainbow castle 4:26:11 "We're gonna use this wither at an opportune moment" / "We're gonna ruin the server for a day with withers...the day of reckoning" 4:27:13 "Only you can prevent forest fires" / learn how to put out fires with your fist in California 4:35:20 "Longest grocery trip since my dad" (dono) / "tsundere horse" 4:42:00 chat is very attached to the horse / chat is spoiled / Techno complimenting his own joke 4:47:00 gonna lose his voice / 13 hour stream / vc with Karl and Eret / taco bell gift card / deep voice gang 4:49:49 married people are responsible for each others' crimes 4:55:40 Karl instigating Techno Dream rivalry / Dream being mad at Techno

#technoblade #technoblade timestamps #preparing for war (dream SMP)#dream smp

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iwantthedean · 5 years

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A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part One: McIntosh. Juicy, tangy, tart.

Summary: Y/N gets bad news about her beloved home. Jensen arrives in Boston following a potentially rash decision. Pairing: None ... yet. Word Count: 1507 Warnings: Drinking. Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: I’m so excited to be posting a series here again! In case you missed the announcement, this will fall in line with series I’ve written before like Hard to Find, or True Fluff. The taglist is open, so if you like what you read here, feel free to request to be added! HUGE THANKS to @atc74 and @d-s-winchester for not only encouraging me to come back and write when I was ready, but for hearing me out about this series. I love you both to pieces!

The nature of living with an apple orchard in your backyard was that the house always had a slight tinge of apple scent to it. When you pulled out the season’s first pan of apple cinnamon cookies from the oven, the scent only grew stronger. You smiled; this was the smell of your childhood. You and your grandmother had spent countless hours in this kitchen, preparing this very recipe -- one that had been handed down over four generations now.

You waited for the cookies to cool a bit before using a nylon spatula to slide them from the still-warm pan to the wire rack on the cream-colored, tile counter. Using an ice cream scoop to help you keep the portions fairly equal, you loaded the silicon mat on the cookie sheet and again slid the pan into the oven. You set the timer on the oven and washed the bits of cookie dough from your hands.

Outside the window over the kitchen sink, the leaves of the trees decorating the yard were turning the brilliant colors of Autumn: red and yellow and orange. There was even some brown, which didn’t put you off the way the drab color normally would have. Autumn had a late start this year, but here it was, right before your eyes.

“That bodes well for the Fall Festival,” you smiled to yourself, not caring that no one was around to listen. The festival was something you looked forward to every year since you were a kid; for you, it was right up there with decorating for Christmas.

You finished the cookies, loaded and started the dishwasher, then put the cookies in an airtight container -- but not before sneaking one for yourself.

“Just like Granny made.”

Satisfied with your baking endeavor, you left the cookies alone and went to freshen up for your meeting with the farm’s business manager. This was something you did monthly, to make certain everything was in order, and while you normally didn’t mind the business side of running the place, things hadn’t exactly been looking up lately.

Bartholomew Kemp was a good man. He had grown up with your father and knew your family well. After your grandparents died and your father moved to the Midwest where most of the extended family lived now, you stayed behind in Massachusetts to keep watch over the family farm.

It wasn’t much, really. Thirty-five acres of land, most of which were taken up with the orchard. The main house and the barn took up a couple of acres, and there was a small pumpkin patch that covered a few acres, too. There was a lot of upkeep required, but you loved every inch of the place, and the people who worked the land so that you could stay there and keep everything in your family’s name.

The pleasant thoughts of the place you called home faded away when you saw Bartholomew’s face. As soon as his eyes registered your presence, his expression read regret.

“It’s not good, Y/N,” Bartholomew sighed, handing over the latest financial reports. “Nothing has improved with the ripening of the apples and your sales. They’re not flying out of the market the same way they used to do. More people are buying organic from the store than chancing recalls by buying direct locally.”

You frowned as you looked over the numbers. “I don’t understand. I mean -- I understand these reports coming back from the market, but I don’t understand why I’m not getting more stock back, then. The market is constantly asking for more apples, and they’ve already cleared out of our pumpkins once … it doesn’t make sense.”

“I wish I had an explanation for you, but the numbers are all there. I’ve checked and double-checked them. Triple-checked.”

You drew in a deep breath, willing yourself to not have an emotional reaction until you were alone in your car, if not all the way home. You set your copies of the reports on the desk and looked at Bartholomew.

“So, what does this mean?”

The older man leaned forward on his desk. He looked around as if wishing someone would come in and interrupt. Finally, he looked you in the eye.

“You’re going to have to sell, Y/N.”

Tears stung your eyes, and professionalism went out the window. “Sell? No, Mr. Kemp, I can’t sell! That’s my home -- my family’s home. My dad retired and moved West and he left me the place. He trusted me!”

Bartholomew reached across the table to take your hand. He squeezed, an effort to reassure you. “And you’ve done a great job, dear, but it’s the times. It’s not you. Your father has no reason to be anything other than proud of you.”

“What about -- what about refinancing?”

You could see from his demeanor this wasn’t an easy conversation. “You could try, but -- you are an amazing teacher. The kids and parents alike love you. Your employees all love you. I don’t know if that’s something you can take to the bank against your salary, though.”

“The least I can do is try.”

Bartholomew nodded. He gave you a manila envelope to put all the reports in, and offered his assistance with your loan application should you need any. You thanked him again, then hightailed it out to your car. Before you had the key in the ignition, you lost control of your emotions. The tears flowed freely all the way back home.

* * * * *

While he waited to get off the plane in Boston, Jensen adjusted the ball cap he was sporting, then quietly undid his seatbelt. He didn’t want to catch any complaints from the flight attendants for unbuckling while the seatbelt light was still on, but having the thing secured was giving him some weird sort of anxiety.

The passengers were finally allowed to file into the airport. Jensen shouldered his carry-on and made way for the rental car counter. Once behind the wheel, the GPS told him it was an hour drive from Boston to Attleboro.

“An hour?” he groaned. “Nah. I’ll get a hotel and find the town tomorrow.”

Jensen’s first thought was to head to the Four Seasons, but he made a last-minute decision to book a room at the DoubleTree instead. It wasn’t about money, it was about simplicity. Wasn’t that the whole point of this trip? To simplify his life?

Once settled in his room, he ordered from a delivery service that would bring him both food and alcohol, turned on his favorite playlist, and stared out the window. Below him, cars raced past. People huddled in thick jackets against the chilly wind. Vancouver was probably colder now than Boston, but it was still about twenty degrees colder than Austin.

Jensen took a deep breath and turned away from the window. He pulled clean boxers from his bag and let out that breath as he headed for a hot shower. All he needed was a quick one before the delivery service showed up to get his head straight.

“A quick, hot shower,” he muttered, turning his face away from the initial cold spray of water, “and to find a place to be.”

After fifteen years on the same show with not much to vary his days, Supernatural had ended. He didn’t regret a minute of being on the show, being around the fans, or the family that had formed during his years as Dean Winchester. Now, though, he was restless. Summer was fine; those weeks felt like hiatus. Then August came and, of course, filming still had not resumed, and the restlessness had set in.

No scripts came through that caught his interest. The Austin nightlife wasn’t really keeping his attention, but there didn’t seem to be a point in going back to Vancouver. So, he started looking for other options. How this orchard had even come across his screen, Jensen couldn’t remember. He only knew that once the seed was planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So now Jensen was laying on a hotel bed in Boston, watching sports highlights on television and knocking back whiskey on the rocks. Tomorrow, when he woke up, maybe he wouldn’t even be interested in the orchard anymore -- he’d just take a plane back to Texas and be back at square one.

“Put the lid on the whiskey bottle, Ackles. Call it a night.”

Taking his own advice, he knocked back what was left in his glass, put the bottle across the room for now, and turned off the lights. He set the sleep timer on the TV and drifted off to a restless sleep.

When Jensen woke up the next morning, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Seeing and potentially buying the orchard seemed less like an irrational choice and more of the quiet, new adventure he was seeking. There were new possibilities here, he could feel it in his bones -- and he couldn’t get on the road fast enough to find out just what those possibilities were.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967

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miss-tricksy · 4 years

Text

Roll to Me

A/N: This is for @cleighwrites ThANGSTgiving Writing Challenge. I chose Dean. My lyric was “And I don’t think I have ever seen a soul so in despair”, Del Amitri, Roll to Me. I was totally struggling with recalling this song by name, but if you look it up, you’ll go ‘duh’ too.

A/N 2: This is my first challenge submission EVER. Please be gentle. Would love to know what you think. There is so much awesome writing on tumblr and it’s a little terrifying to try to even dream of comparing this to any of that.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of smut, mutual pining

Summary: Demon Dean reaches out to Reader, Dean tries to comes to terms with his feelings.

Your phone screen lit up, showing a picture from some random day six or seven years before. Gorgeous car, gorgeous backdrop, gorgeous guy. You can’t help the smile in your voice, despite your grogginess, “Hey, Dean.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Is that your sex voice I hear?”

“Uh, that’s my you woke me up because it’s,” you glance at the clock on the beautiful wood-like nightstand your hotel room it outfitted with, “two thirty-seven. Thought old guys like you were in bed before the ten o’clock news.”

You hear Dean’s throaty chuckle. “Not really my style, darling. Been spending some time howling at the moon, so to speak.”

You grab at the low hanging fruit, “You guys hunting weres? Thought I might have saw something like that going down in the U.P.”

More with the growly laughing. “Not exactly. Wanted to see if you want to meet up with me?”

“Just wrapped up a situation with some witches near Little Rock.” You do a quick mental calculation. “I can be at the Bunker by tomorrow night. Tell Sam to wash my sheets with the good fabric softener.”

“Not quite what I had in mind, babe.”

Babe? You couldn’t help but wonder about that particular endearment.

“Oh, o-kay….what did you have in mind, then?”

You checked that the phone hadn’t dropped the call. Several seconds passed by before your heard Dean’s voice again. “You can’t even imagine what I want to do to you, Y/N/N. Been thinking about you for weeks now. Can’t get that silver dress you wore in Vegas out of my head.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek, to be sure you weren’t dreaming. Sam Winchester may have known about the HUGE crush you had on his brother. But the elder of the pair had never once hinted that he reciprocated. Before you could ask about the strange behavior, your phone buzzed. Funny enough Sam’s face flashed across your screen.

“Hey, Dean, Sam’s calling. Aren’t you together?”

“What the….you can ignore that sweetheart. Baby bro probably is just geeking out over some book at the bunker. Loser.”

You were used to Dean giving Sam a hard time in person, but usually he was kind of a fan girl when he talked about Sam.

“Hey, sweetheart, you still there?”

“Uh, ya.” Sam would probably call back. The boys were probably fighting and they just needed to vent.

“Good so, how about you meet me in Joplin tomorrow around lunch. You bring the whiskey, and I’ll bring the condoms.”

If you had been taking a sip of the water on your nightstand, you’d have done a spit take.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t be cheap either. I wiped the floor with a couple guys tonight. I’m flush. I’ll pay you back. See you soon, Y/N.”

The phone flashed ‘Call Ended.’ You found yourself muttering as you got up to search for the phone charger that had come unplugged. Dean might have joked and flirted with you over the years, but there had never been such blatant innuendos made. Maybe he had had a few too many tonight. You debated about calling Sam back but figured it could wait until morning. His call earlier had probably been to warn you that Dean was in a mood. Once you had taken a couple swigs of your leftover iced coffee, probably regrettably, you crawled back in to your lumpy bed, trying to shake off the uneasiness that call had left you with.

****************

The next morning you woke feeling surprisingly well-rested. Talking to Dean always gave you a little extra comfort, though the longer you wallowed in the scratchy sheets, the more you wondered about Dean’s remarks the night before. After packing the rest of your things and grabbing a surprisingly not-terrible muffin and coffee at the motel’s ‘lounge,’ you pointed your Jeep north. You shaved about 20 minutes off your GPS’s arrival time as you neared the Kansas border. You were merging in to traffic headed toward Tulsa before you remembered your conversation with Dean. He said to meet him in Joplin. Weird. Once you were back up to cruising speed and traffic had thinned out, you dialed Sam up, figuring Dean would be a bit hungover from the night before.

“Hey Y/N/N, what took you so long to call me back?” Sam sounded irritated.

“I didn’t know it was urgent. I talked to Dean last night, figured he’d let you know what’s up.”

“You what- when- where are you right now, Y/N?”

“Chill Sam. Use your words.”

“Seriously, for your sake and mine, where are you?”

“I’m on my way to the bunker. Left Little Rock first thing this morning. Why would Dean want me to meet him in Joplin?”

“He’s in Joplin?”

“I guess. What’s going on? You guys are being weird.”

“Listen, I need you to not come to the bunker. And definitely don’t head to Joplin. And don’t answer any more calls form my brother.”

“Sam you’re really freaking me out right now.”

“It’s a long story and I have to move on this info. Did you make any arrangements with him about where you’re meeting?”

“No. Just that I’d be there around lunch time.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m going to e-mail you some instructions. Do exactly as I say, please. Keep me posted if Dean contacts you. There’s a safe house we have in Lawrence. I’ll text you the address and security code. Get there as quick as you can, Y/N. I mean it.”

Sam’s little monologue had you totally freaked out. Something big was happening, and as per usual two of your favorite people seemed to be smack in the middle of it.

*****************

Walking in to the tiny house in Lawrence felt more than strange. It was in a middle-class neighborhood full of families with kids. You couldn’t help but wonder what the neighbors thought of this place. There was a layer of dust over almost everything, but upon inspection the electricity worked and there was hot water. You carried in your laptop and the lunch you had got at some overpriced drive-thru. You had to admit that the sandwich was good but the coffee was not the best. You settled in to the couch with a movie you had seen a million times before, stretching the car ride out of your muscles. You were just comfortable when Sam’s picture popped up on your phone.

“Hey, Sam, care to fill me in on just what crazy crap you guys are tangled up in right now?”

“No. Not really. Listen, I know you just rolled in to Lawrence but any chance you could make yourself scarce. As in get out of the Midwest for a while?”

“Seriously, Sam,” you started, then heard Dean’s muffled voice growling at Sam to take the cuffs off.

“Wait, is that you brother. Why is he cuffed?”

“Um, it’s like I said, long story,” Sam tried to weasel his way out of an explanation.

“Sam what is going on? I talked to Dean last night. Then you tell me I need to get to Kansas, and now I need to get out of Kansas? I’m getting some seriously mixed signals.”

“I know, Y/N/N. Can you just trust me on this?”

“Sam you’re the closest thing to family I have. I would really like to be in the loop here.”

“Okay, give me three days, then head to the bunker. And bring some holy water just in case.”

“Holy wa-,” the line went dead before you could finish your question.

You trusted the Winchesters with your life so you decided you could stay put for a couple days. You spent the rest of the evening washing sheets and towels and all of your clothes. (Only half-charmed by the fact that there was a washer and dryer and your favorite fabric softener stashed in a small laundry room.)

You spent your second day checking in with contacts and following up on a couple leads you had. Turned out the werewolves you thought might be partying in Michigan were actual wolves that some local had over exaggerated. You passed on wind of a coven near Boston to your friend Katie. Forwarded some reports of what you thought might be actual Selkies in the San Francisco Bay area. Your job was really freaking weird sometimes.

By lunchtime on day three you were pretty much bored out of your skull. Everything you had in your possession was cleaned, polished, sharpened, oiled and any other adjective you could come up with. Seriously, even your boots had gotten a nice rub down with some extra gun oil. You figured you had given your favorite brothers time to sort out the mess they were in, or at least make a good start. You decided to give Dean a call, see if he would be a little more forthcoming with details than his younger counterpart. Three numbers and no answers later, you couldn’t help but be a little irritated.

Sam picked up on the fourth ring. He sounded exhausted. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Don’t what’s up me Samuel Toronto Winchester.”

“Toronto?”

“I can never remember. And don’t distract me. I am about five seconds from hopping on the freeway and busting down the door of your Batcave. What is going on?!”

“Dean died.”

Your knees gave out and you sank against the kitchen counter. “He’s gone……and you didn’t call me?”

“I said he died. I didn’t say he’s dead.”

“It’s a good thing I’ve known you for a damn long time Sam or I would think you’ve lost it. Explain.”

“He died. Became a demon. Knight of Hell actually. I’ve been trying to track him down for a while now.”

“That is…still not enough information. Why do you have me on lockdown in Apple Pie Land?”

“I was just trying to keep you safe Y/N. Dean has been sleeping and slicing his way through the Plains like it’s his job. I didn’t know how he would react if he caught up with you.”

“So now what Sam?”

“I got him back to the Bunker, started him on what we think was a demon cure. He seems to be back to himself, for the most part. I would feel better if you stayed in Lawrence a couple more days.”

“Sam I’m going nuts here. How about I take a couple days and check some drop boxes I’ve got that aren’t too far. Could I head to the bunker say, middle of next week?”

“I think that’s doable. Just know that Dean’s really shaken up by this whole thing. He knows he did a lot of shady stuff while he was dark. I don’t know if he’ll be up to company, but you’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Okay, well. Let me know if anything changes. I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll bring you a case of that beer you like from Texas.”

“Bye Y/N. Be safe.”

************************

You spent the next few days being true to your word. You logged way too many interstate miles. Checked every mailbox you had, even one the Winchesters had given you the key to that was kind of out of your way. For some reason it was stuffed full with some cooking magazine, with Y/N Winchester as the subscription holder. You stopped by a couple surplus stores and loaded up on water and non-perishables. You even got a couple packs of t-shirts and socks for your two favorite fellas. Theirs always seemed to be one step away from growing ‘stuff.’

By Tuesday you had circled back around to Lebanon. You dropped in at a cute little bakery the boys favored. Pie for Dean and a mix of cookies that Sam would pretend weren’t on his diet but wouldn’t last two days. You got a few sandwich rolls and a tub of chicken salad that was made there, too. At least you wouldn’t starve at the ultimate bachelor pad. You figured you ought to let the boys know you were incoming.

“Hello?”

“Hey Sam. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be there soon. Got an empty spot in that awesome garage I can park?”

“Sure thing.” He paused like he was getting ready to tell you your puppy died while you were at summer camp. “Just, don’t be surprised if Dean is a little, weird, I guess. He’s been drinking already today and seems to be a real Debbie Downer pretty much all the time. I don’t know what to do with him. Or for him. Just, I know he wouldn’t want you to get here and think it’s your fault he’s depressed or whatever.”

You couldn’t help smiling a little. “Of course not, Sam. I’ll just have to kick his ass a little. Open the garage door for me, I’ll be there in five.”

******************

Sam helped you get your Jeep unpacked and your things settled in to the room you had claimed dibs on. And someone had washed your sheets, it smelled pretty good in your room, actually. Sam almost ran you over as you stepped into the hall to head for the shower. The Men of Letters water pressure was to die for and you were convinced that the water heater was enchanted somehow.

“Sorry, Y/N. Hey, listen,” Sam tucked his hair behind his ear, a move you knew was a nervous tic of his. “Would you feel okay here with Dean by yourself? I haven’t left in days just trying to keep an eye on him. I need some fresh air and I don’t even know. Just a break I guess.”

“What are best friends for Sam. I was going to shower real quick. Any chance you guys have some frozen pizzas stashed in one of those enormous freezers?”

Sam couldn’t seem to stifle a grin at you expense, while he swept you into a big hug. He was your second favorite person to hug in the whole world. “I hope you never change, Y/N/N. Pizza’s on the bottom shelf. Call me if something comes up.” He kissed the side of your head and walked off.

You decided to kill two birds with one stone and throw the pizza in while you showered. You cranked the oven, tossed the pizza in and headed down the hall, fiddling with your phone to set a timer. You shrieked when you hit something solid.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry I scared you.”

You breathed out his name. “Dean, hey. I wondered if you were hiding from me.” You couldn’t help but tug the lapels of the robe you had on self-consciously.

“Why would I hide from you? You’re my best girl. I mean best girl friend.” He hiccupped. “Ha, I mean best friend who is a girl.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if the blush on his cheeks was because of the slip-up or the whiskey you could smell on his breath. “Right. Anyway. I have a pizza in the oven and was heading to shower. And I’m down to like,” you glanced at your phone, “seven minutes. You want to share?” Then your own nerves kicked in. “I meant share the pizza, not the um, the shower thing.”

Dean gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. Almost disappointed. “How about you shower, I’ll set us up pizza and whatever in the Dean cave.”

“The what?”

“The Dean Cave™. Three doors down from your room. You’ll love it.”

*******************

Showered and feeling the most relaxed you’d been since leaving Little Rock, you followed your nose to the Dean Cave. When you stepped through the door you couldn’t help but giggle. “You weren’t kidding, were you? This is…perfect for you, De. You pulled out all the stops, huh.” You could tell he was trying not to be too proud of himself, but the big grin he was wearing gave it away. It was one of your favorite smiles in the whole world. He had plates and glasses on a small table between two enormous recliners. Pizza, beer and the pie you thought you had smuggled in were on a side table. You couldn’t help your own smile, while you fixed a plate and got comfy in a big chair. “Mind if I play some music?”

“As long as it’s not the crap you play in your car.”

“What other music is there?” you joked. You liked a lot of stuff, but the country music you had been bombarded with over the last week was getting old. “I made a cool mix. You’ll know some of these songs, they came out when you were in high school.”

“Oh, jeez, the nineties, really. I thought you had better taste than that.”

“Hey punk, there was some good stuff. I didn’t say you had to dance or anything. Just some background music.”

“Fine. Tell me about what you’ve been up to.”

*********************

You spent the next hour regaling Dean with some of the more interesting things you had been up to since your last Bunker visit. “And that is pretty much everything since we worked that weird mummy case in Vegas.” You adjusted your legs and missed Dean tensing up. “So, am I allowed to ask about you? Or are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room, De?”

Dean tried to glare at you like he wanted to cut this conversation short. You really were one of his favorite people, and he didn’t want to let you down with tales of Demon Dean. “I’m sure Sam gave you the highlights.” He rubbed his hand across his neck, his version of the Winchester tic. You realized he was refusing to meet your eyes.

��I was just. Checking in with you, I guess. Sam said you’ve been, um. Been drinking. More than usual. And the only reason you’re eating with me is because I asked. You would have liked to tap out already.”

“Y/N I love hanging out with you. It’s just. It sounds stupid, but I guess I’m just trying to find a way to atone for my actions. His actions. I don’t know. I did a lot of stupid, horrible things. Nothing I’m proud of. I practically called you up for a booty call. That probably wouldn’t have ended well for you. Guess I couldn’t keep you off my mind even when I was a demon.”

You watched Dean all through his self-deprecating speech. He looked at the hole in the knee of his jeans the entire time. When he finally did glance up, you couldn’t stop yourself, you mouthed along with the song that had started playing “And I don't think I have ever seen a soul so in despair.” That seemed to break something in him, and you noticed the tears start rolling down his cheeks. You reached out to grab his hand, calluses snagging. “You don’t know the half of it sweetheart.”

You tugged on his hand and he sunk to his knees in front of you. He hugged around your waist and you used the edge of your shirt to wipe up some of his tears. You leaned down, tucking his head under your chin. “Actually, I do know the half of it. And in case you didn’t notice I keep coming back.”

“Well, then I guess the other line in that song is about me too.” You leaned back into your seat, giving him a questioning look. “Wrong guy, wrong situation.”

“Ya, no. You are definitely the right guy,” you glanced away shyly, “for someone.”

You felt Dean’s hands slide down your thighs. “I doubt that, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath and met his eyes. They were watery and red-rimmed, but always a spectacular jade. “You are the other, other guy De. The songs about having someone you can count on.” It was his turn to look away. You grabbed his chin, spinning his face around. “When the engine’s stalled and it won’t stop raining…you are always my first call. When I get a huge win. Or have to lick my wounds. You’ve got my back.” You hoped the smile you gave him wasn’t giving too much away.

“Y/N, I am no good for someone as great as you. I literally called you two weeks ago, because I was a demon. He wanted to sink his teeth into you. And not the fun way.” Dean wiped his eyes, with the back of his hand. “What would I have done, then?”

“Well, we were gonna have booze and condoms. Think I know what we would have been doing.” You seemed to have the bad habit of putting your foot in your mouth around Dean. You leaned over to kiss the top of Dean’s head, trying to make a hasty escape. “See you in the morning, De.”

***************

Dean spent a couple minutes on the floor trying to make sense of your conversation. He worked at gathering up the mess the two of you had made, realizing you hadn’t touched the pie. He always seemed to get distracted when you were around. As he stashed the last of the trash in the bin, he tripped across something rather dazedly. You had agreed to meet him, well the demon version of him, with the intention of hooking up. Maybe you thought he had just been messing around. Huh.

***************

You were just starting to drift off in the awesome mattress you discovered had been replaced since your last visit, when a timid knock caught your attention. You shifted up in the bed, making sure your lack of pants wasn’t obvious, and called, “Come in.”

Dean’s shadow appeared in your doorway, and you squinted to actually see his features in the dim light.

“You were going to meet me in Joplin. Why didn’t you question it?”

“I figured you needed back up on a case or something.”

“You didn’t question the condoms. Then or tonight. Why?”

You could feel yourself flush at the insinuation. “I just figured you were screwing around. You make jokes with me all the time.”

“Not about having sex with you.”

“Well, I know. But other jokes. Flirty things when we go out to a bar. Or things you find online and send me.”

“But I don’t joke about having sex, not with you.”

You weren’t sure what the big deal was. And Dean’s face was still in shadow. “Sorry, I guess. I shouldn’t have joked about it either, won’t happen again,” you apologized.

While you were talking Dean closed the door behind him, plunging you into all but blackness. The bed dipped near your knees, and you suppressed a squeak of surprise. As your eyes adjusted to the near pitch dark, you could see Dean’s shoulders sagging. “Hey,” you nudged him with your leg, hoping he could see your smile, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I just thought, you know, we joke and kid around and if I crossed a line, I will definitely try to avoid that kind of joke in the future.”

Dean found your hand that was tucked in to your lap. Leave it to him to have cat-like night vision. “I, uh.” Dean cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the bed, squeezing your hand just a little. “I’m not mad, it’s just.” Another cough, and you thought you heard him mumble ‘get it together, man.’

“De, can I turn the light on. Or you turn the light on. I’m just in a t-shirt here.” The light clicked on and your eyes adjusted as Dean sat back down. You grabbed his hand back, loving that little bit of contact. “It’s just you and me here. What’s got you all tongue-tied?”

Dean took another breath. “Sex with you will never be something I joke about, because I can’t possibly imagine anything more serious in my life. I mean. You are so beautiful. And perfect and just thinking about and knowing it would never happen makes it too hard to joke about.”

You were sure he got that out in one exhale. Your buzz from earlier seemed to wear off quite quickly. You made sure Dean was looking you in the eye when you replied, “It would never be a joke to me. It would be, what’s the word?” You hoped Dean was reading your expression loud and clear. “Kind of a dream come true.”

Dean continued to stare at you, like he couldn’t believe his ears. “I….What?”

“I said that would be a dream come true for me. Why do you think I keep coming back around, De? It’s not for the beautiful balcony view. Or the great eats. It’s because it’s where you are.” You tugged on the hand you were still holding bringing Dean’s mouth within inches of your own. “Kiss me, please, tell me I didn’t read this wrong.”

Dean leaned in and between wet presses of his beautiful mouth gasped “Read it….totally….right….I’m an idiot….god you’re gorgeous….taste so good….”

#thangstgiving writing challenge #spn fanfic #dean x reader

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sleepnginstardust · 4 years

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Werewolf boyfriend and girlfriend (part 3/??)

Hello again! Sorry for the delay, Halloween is my busy time, hopefully I can actually sit down and write more!

As I woke up the next morning I looked at the clock and realized I slept for almost ten hours, and was now running late. I pulled myself out of bed and went into the powder room. Since it was supposedly a meeting I did my makeup like I would normally do for a meeting, primer foundation, concealer, contour, highlight. The whole nine yards. As I finished my makeup I pulled out a button down shirt and vest I normally wear over it. Finished off with some decent jeans and boots over that and I was done.

I grabbed my purse, walked to the door. Remembered that I put my wallet in my laptop bag. Went back to my laptop bag by the window and pulled out my wallet. Then I walked out of the bedroom. I made my down the hall to the stairs and heard the clinking of silverware. I got down the stairs and turned to the kitchen. Kara had a guest over and was talking quietly. The woman was beautiful in a girl next door way. She was tall and had bright red hair. As I stepped into the kitchen they stopped talking.

“You must be Abigail. You are gorgeous, no wonder why both Anita and Nathan are so taken with you. You’re looking at the Ketterlog house right? The large one.” I blinked a few times trying to think about what house I was seeing, and shook my head.

“I - wait the house has an actual name? Kara I’m running a bit late do you have something to throw some tea or something?” Kara gasped and went to the cupboard.

“I have some coffee made up if that alright?” I nodded I went through my purse for my car fob. I pulled out the plastic fob in the shape of my car out front. Kara handed me a cup with coffee in it and I waved. “Abigail please don’t forget to actually eat something as well.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry I would talk more but I’ve got to go.” As I head out to the porch I head the other woman tell Kara

“Holy smokes is she good looking no wonder those two are after her.” Kara Made a disgruntled noise and said something back but I was already out the door. I walked out to my Roadster and unlocked the car. I stepped in threw my fob next to me in the cup holder and press the ignition button. It was a stupidly flashy car and I knew it, but goddamn did I feel powerful when I drove it. It’s beautiful metallic silver sparkling in the sun.

I pulled out and drove back towards the downtown area. As I drove past the park I got a shiver down my spine. I noticed more people in the area and more stares. I knew I should have picked out a less flashy car when I bought it but damn if I wasn’t going to have at least a little bit of luxury in my life.

I pulled up outside of the coffee shop where I was supposed to meet the realtor. I grabbed my fob locked my car and walked into the coffee shop. The same girl from yesterday was working again, but this time it was pretty busy. The bell jingled behind me and I watched as a few people turned their heads to look who was coming in. I stood in the back looking around for someone who maybe the realtor I spoke to on the phone.

Looking around I saw a few people that could be him, but the only one that may have been him was a tiefling sitting next to the window in jeans and a button down flannel. I really hoped it wasn’t him, because if it was I was a bit overdressed. I made my way to the table and cleared my throat.

“Are you Kyros Pamri?” The guy looked up at me and smile with ridiculously white and straight teeth. He stood up and extended his hand.

“I am, you must be Abigail Pichard right?” I nodded and shook his hand. “Sorry about the mess, give me a few moments and we can be on our way. Would prefer I drive or would you like too?”

“I can.” I wasn’t feeling the best still being slightly tired after only waking up maybe 45 minutes ago. Howard straightened up his paperwork and put them in different colored folders. As he stuffed them in his bag I looked around and noticed the orc girl from yesterday waving at me. I noticed that the line had died down so I made my way over to her.

“How’s your hand? It looked like it hurt yesterday.” The girl took a look at her hand and waved it around a little bit.

“Oh it’s fine, I heal quickly anyway. Do you want anything? I’m Emily by the way.” I looked back at Howard who seemed to be slowly making his way towards me. Remembering what Kara said about eating I thought for a moment.

“How about that muffin over there, is it apple cinnamon?” Emily nodded and went to grab one for me. Howard finally came up next to and laid his hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Hey you ready to go.” Emily came back over as the bell above the door rang out.

“I just need to pay, no Emily it doesn’t need to be heated up thanks though.” I heard two sets of feet as Emily took my card and finished the transaction. Emily handed me my card and looked at me and then back to whoever had just come in. I let Kyros move to the side as Anita and Nathan came forward their eyes locked on Kyros’s hand which had moved down towards my wrist. Feeling like I was doing something wrong I pulled my hand from Kyros’s to give them a small wave. Anita’s scowl softened and Nathan looked away from Kyros to smile back at me.

“Nice seeing you again Abigail.” Anita murmured as I moved past them, I smiled back at her and walked out of the shop. Howard following behind me. I pulled out my fob and unlocked my car.

“Holy smokes, I didn’t think these existed outside of Silicon Valley.” I pulled short outside of my car. I looked at Kyros and back to my car. Shrugging I got inside. Kyros getting on the other side.

“I needed something nice for myself after everything that happened to me.” And that was the end of that. I told Kyros to bring up the address up on the gps screen on the center console. As he did I backed out of the parking spot. I looked in the window of the coffee shop and saw Emily talking animatedly to Anita and Nathan. I shook my head and just pulled away. As I got out onto the road my gps pinged at me.

“I’ve got to ask, what brings you out to a town like this? I mean it can’t be the night life.” He laughed at his own joke as my gps told me to turn onto a smaller road. I had a vague memory of what the house looked like, so I only had my gps and Howard to direct me.

“I need a quieter area in general. I write books and do some YouTube stuff, and I’d just like a more quiet area.” Kyros wrote something down on a notepad. He nodded his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to know. Maybe any deep dark secrets that may come back to haunt me?”

“Ah no nothing of the sort, I was just curious.” Kyros kept writing away and he made a vague turn right motion just as my gps chimed in with a turn right. The road I turned on was paved, but it seemed like it hadn’t kept up in a while. There were elegant private property signs on stone pillars on either side of the road and I kept driving down the road. The road was lined in some type of tree. I thought they were maple but the leaves didn’t seem right.

As I pulled up to a house I stepped out and looked at the house confused. Everything was done in the Victorian style with a large front porch and a round turret in the front. Kyros got out of my car as well and smiled at me.”

“Well what do think?”

“I thought it was smaller.”

As an upstanding member of the community and someone people looked up I restrained myself from going after Kyros to punch his face. I looked over to Nathan who was clutching his paper cup of coffee like his life depended on it.

“So that wasn’t something I liked to see.” Sitting in an empty fire hall gave us some leeway to tell openly about what happened. Normally our more wolffish tendencies were more quiet than but after seeingKyros hold onto Abigail like she was some prized possessions made my wolf come very near the surface.

“He knows by now right? Dude I’m pret certain everyone knows she’s ours right? He can’t be touching her like that.” Nathan's face was a mix of jealousy and anger. I went up and started rubbing his shoulders I knew it had bothered him to finally find her only for her to be afraid of us.

We’d been friends for years, our wolf side knowing that one day we’d finally be together with someone else, but as the years went on we started just not caring. Jokingly telling people that if that person just for us didn’t show up we’d just marry each other. The pack knew we would never shut out the person just for us, but we joked about it.

Then she showed up at Kara’s, and we knew as soon as she cracked that stupid joke the she was it. We just knew. We didn’t think anything of it when we offered to drive her to the coffee shop. We also didn’t think when we said we may join her at the coffee shop. We just wanted to be close to her.

Which led to us following her as she walked back to Kara’s Bed and Breakfast. We hadn’t meant to terrify her but somehow we had. We stayed in the trees at the park as she practically ran away from us.

When Fred practically yelled at us to get to Kara’s over text we knew what it was about. When we got there we hadn’t cared that Fred was ready to pull rank on the two of us. We could smell how terrified and sad she had been. We understood that something had happened. Kara explained to us what had happened and that sometimes people had to wait longer than what we wanted too. It chafed to just have to be patient when we knew that she was ours. When we waited our entire lives.

“You know maybe we shouldn’t have been so hasty. I mean for all we know she could not like it here and she could just decide to leave and never come back.” Nathan stopped moving and looked at me. His eyes were hurt, and I knew I had overstepped. He stood up, and turned fully to look at me.

“We’ve waited so long, how can you just say something like that? She has to know how much she means to us. She has too.” Hearing his voice break on that last part broke me and I looked away. I heard his footsteps.

“Where are you going?” He stopped.

“I just want to see her, just for a little bit.” I looked up to see Nathan change and go sprinting away. Cursing, I chased after him.

#Werewolf boyfriend #werewolf girlfriend #exophilia #My writing #monster lover

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maybemitch · 5 years

Text

STAY WHERE YOU ARE (MITSIM)

DESCRIPTION: “I’m coming to get you. You just stay right there, don’t move”

WORD COUNT: 2,178

DEDICATED: I don’t normally dedicate my works, but this one is different. I am dedicating this one to @wolfofthedead . The reason being is because I adore him and also he’s the one which got me into Mitsim. So hopefully you’ll enjoy Frankie!

MODERN!AU

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

The vibration on the bedside table made Mitch turn over in his sleep and give the electronic device daggers. He was too comfortable to move, he knew the moment he removed his hands from the duvet, the cold air would be harsh against his skin, causing goosebumps to appear on his arm; he didn’t want that. A hum left his lips when the vibrating stopped, his eyes fluttering shut as he snuggled back down into his bed, finally, he got to sleep again.

That was what he thought. His phone started to vibrate again, causing him to release a small groan from his tight lips. Mitch now thought about grabbing his phone and throwing it in the direction of his open closet, allowing it to sink into the mix of fallen clothes from the hanger; potentially muffling the vibration sounds. He even briefly thought about smashing the phone in frustration, yet he wouldn’t be able to come up with a logical explanation on why his was the way it was to his parents.

He ran a hand over his face quickly, before snatching up his phone, pressing the accept button and putting it to his ear. He didn’t allow the other person on the other end to speak, he was frustrated that they woke him up at 3 in the morning. “What?” He snaps.

Sniffs were heard from the other end of the phone and the sound of the wind whistled past. Mitch had to remove the phone from his ear momentarily due to the wind making an awful sound down the microphone. When the static sound from the phone he pressed his electronic device back to his ear, in hopes to hear who was on the other end.

“M-mitch?” The other person spoke in a hush whisper, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Mitch sat up right in his bed, the tiredness feelings slipping away quickly, “Aasim? What’s wrong? Why are you awake?”

Aasim sighed on the other end, “I went to Marlon’s party remember. I just want to go home.”

Mitch frowned, “Did something happen?”

“No.” Aasim replied quickly, “Nothing happened, I promise. I just want to go home, but I can’t. I’ve drank a little so I can’t drive.”

Mitch chuckled as he put the phone on loud speak. He approached the closet, changing from his nightwear into some sweats, “Still sensible I see,” he hummed from across the room, he dug through the fallen clothes, finding his old tattered trainers and slipped them onto his bare feet, “Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah,” Aasim confirmed, “I’m at the woods a block or two away from Marlon’s. I...” Aasim paused taking a gulp, “I’m walking home. But it’s going to take me a while because I live on the other side of town.”

“Stay where you are,” Mitch ordered, digging through his backpack, receiving the keys to his second hand, blue pickup truck, ”I’m coming to get you,” Mitch spun the keys around his finger, clenching them in his palm, “You just stay right there. Don’t move.”

On the other end of the phone Aasim shook his head and bit down on his nails, “Mitch. You’re grounded. I don’t want you to get into trouble. I’ll just walk it.”

Mitch shrugged back in his room, “You’re not walking home at 3 in the morning Aasim. I’m not letting my boyfriend walk home early hours in the morning. If I get into trouble by the folks who cares? You’re too important to me.”

“Mitch...” Aasim tried to reason, but his boyfriend was stubborn when it came to situations like this. Aasim wasn’t going to win. So he decided not to try.

Mitch grabbed a jacket which draped over his desk chair and slipped it on. Mitch picked up his phone, returning it to normal speaker and pressed the phone back to his ear. Mitch quietly slipped from his room, descending down the stairs. He took a glance up the stairs, the family dog; Roscoe looked between the railing. Mitch lifted his hands up to his mouth, pressing a finger to his lips, silencing the dog.

The dog moped but turned back around, moving back into one of the rooms upstairs. Mitch sighed in relief as he listened to Aasim talk on the other end. Moving through the house, Mitch silently groaned when he saw the two cats sleeping by the back door. He only had keys for the back door, that’s why he was using it.

“Move.” Mitch hissed silently, the cats woke up and scampered away.

“What?” Aasim asked confused down the phone.

“Stupid cats,” Mitch mumbled into the device, shoving the keys into the lock and unlocking it.

Aasim laughed lightly, “You love those cats, don’t lie to yourself.”

“Not when I’m sneaking out to get my boyfriend,” Mitch grumbled when he stood outside the night sky nipping at his skin, “And you could’ve told me it was cold.”

“It’s the middle of Autumn what did your expect?” Aasim yawned.

Mitch relocked the door and shook his head. He slowly crept out of the back gate, down to his pickup truck. Mitch unlocked the car door, dipping inside and dropped the phone onto the seat as he reapplied loudspeaker.

“What I expect was a warning it’s cold outside. You know like a loving boyfriend.” Mitch states as he started the car.

“What gave you the idea I love you?” Aasim teased.

The pickup truck engine revved, the front lights turned on, illuminating the road in front. Mitch dulled the lights for a moment, setting up the GPS in the car for Aasim’s location. He was in silence for a few minutes, Aasim was also, the only sound heard from the phone was rustling of the woodland.

Mitch smiled when the small red destination button appeared on the GPS, underneath the white writing and the black background said it was only 20 minutes away. Mitch turned to his phone, picking it up once again.

“What gave me the idea that you loved me? I don’t know, the fact you said it first?” Mitch laughed, as he clicked a button, warming the vehicle up, “Aasim. I’ll be there soon okay,” Mitch placed one hand on the wheel and pressed down on the pedal slowly, moving his car into the middle of the road. He knew driving on his phone was dangerous but he didn’t care, “Just stay right there and don’t move. And Aasim?”

Aasim hummed on the other end, he found it relaxing on how soft Mitch’s voice was at that moment in time.

“I love you,” Mitch told him as he hung up, tossing the phone into the glove department.

As Mitch drove to the destination, he had a radio station playing at a low buzz in the car. Most of the songs where romantic things which was quite ironic considering he was about to pick up his boyfriend in the dead of night. Mitch did consider changing the station several times but he knew that Aasim liked a few songs which were playing so he left them.

Mitch tapped on the steering wheel as he sat at red light, his eyes kept drifting to the GPS which kept blinking for the next turn. The light turned, an apple green now shone. Mitch sighed, pressing his foot down and turned down the next street.

A group of obnoxiously loud teenagers stumbled down the sidewalk on the drivers side, a music box blasted some awful music Mitch could hear through closed windows. Mitch could recognise a few of the teens, they had all attended Marlon’s party. Mitch would have showed his face at the party with Aasim if he wasn’t grounded, but he wouldn’t have drunk, as he would’ve been the designated driver. Well, that’s what Aasim calls him.

“Bear left,” The GPS informed Mitch. The driver slowly, turning his indicator on before driving down the street. When down, Mitch turned the indicator off, reducing his speed limit down.

The male pushed back in his sit, beginning to feel bored of driving alone. Usually Aasim was in the passenger seat either talking to Mitch or resting his head against the window. Mitch enjoyed it when Aasim was besides him also, because - despite it being a romantic gesture - Mitch always rested his hand on Aasim’s thigh or held his hand with the hand which controlled the stick shift.

“At the end of the road, turn right. Then you have reached your destination.” The GPS voice told Mitch.

In excitement, Mitch drove faster, he turned the heating up a little more, wanting it to be warmer for Aasim. As he took a particularly sharp right, he could see a someone standing down the road. He honked his horn as he slowed down in front of Aasim. Leaning over he rolled down the window.

“Need a ride?” Mitch laughed through the open window.

Aasim tried opening the door, “Just open the door for me you Dork.” Aasim laughed, smiling when he heard the click of the door.

“You could have put your hand through the window?” Mitch chuckled, and pointed to the window roller, wanting it back up.

Aasim buckled up and rolled the window up. Aasim turned to Mitch and was greeted with a small short kiss.

“You taste like shots,” Mitch said in a disgusted tone, “Did you do the liquorice shots again with Louis?”

Aasim laughed and nodded, “I did tell you I was drinking. I have no idea why or how Louis likes them so much.”

Mitch nodded and looked out the back window, before doing a U-turn. Mitch shifted the gear, before resting his hand on Aasim’s thigh, his boyfriend automatically resting his hand on top.

“How much did you drink then?” Mitch asked. He only wanted to know because if Aasim drank a lot he would be catering a hang over in the morning.

Aasim squeezed Mitch’s hand which rested on his thigh, “I didn’t drink a lot. Brody made sure I didn’t. I think I did a few shots with Louis and then maybe an alcohol pop.”

Mitch chuckled, “You sure do like your alcohol pop.”

Aasim hushed him for the moment, his hand going to the volume nozzle and turning the song up. Mitch hummed, moving his hand to the stick shift to change gear. Mitch made sure to drive faster on the way home, he had constant tuts coming from Aasim who wasn't a fan on his fast driving.

Mitch took a turn back down the street he saw the obnoxiously loud teenagers, chuckling to himself below the music when he saw one the teens laying face down on the floor in a drunken mess. He was glad Aasim was sensible when it came down to drinking, although, Aasim wasn’t a massive drinking. Aasim drank to the recommended limit and that was that.

The two drove for ten minutes before either of them spoke up.

“Mitch,” Aasim spoke softly under the music, “Slow down. You’re over doing it now. Please,” Aasim looked out the window, recognising the neighbourhood instantly, “You do remember that you are grounded, Mitch. I can’t stop at yours.”

Mitch shrugged, as he flicked the indicator and turned left, “My parents love you. And, just to let you know, they said you can’t sleep round on the week days whilst I’m grounded. I’ll have you know it’s Saturday morning. The weekend.”

Aasim chuckled at his boyfriend, “Look at you thinking of loop holes.”

Mitch smirked as he parked the car outside his house. He shut down the engine, and took the keys out. Mitch slipped from his door, quickly jogging around the front and opened he door for Aasim.

Aasim smiled at him and hopped out the car, he stood to the side as he watched Mitch lock the pickup truck. He held his hand out for his boyfriend, Mitch gladly intertwined their fingers together and began directing them up the garden path to the back door.

Mitch unlocked the door, stepping inside, Aasim followed inside and waited for his boyfriend. Mitch locked the door, turning around he frowned when the cats were at the doorway. He hissed them away, making them scamper to their cat play area.

Aasim bit back at laugh and took ahold of Mitch’s hand before moving to the stairs and heading upstairs. Mitch smiled at his boyfriend, pushing open his bedroom door. Once inside, Mitch shook his head at the family dog Roscoe curdled up on his bed.

Aasim approached the chest of draws in the bedroom, pulling them open and taking out a change of clothes. Mitch slipped into the bed, the family dog moving slightly. Eventually Aasim joined Mitch, cuddling up to him.

“Thank you,” Aasim whispered, his head resting in the crook of Mitch’s neck, “For coming to pick me up in the dead of night.”

Mitch smiled, “You’re welcome,” he hummed, pressing a small kiss to Aasim’s hair, “I did it because I love you.”

Aasim yawned and closed his eyes, “I love you too.”

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bubble-tea-bunny · 6 years

Text

andromeda

[peter parker x reader]

author’s note: been working on this over the past week as time allowed. haven’t written in third person in a long ass time but the style of this story kind of necessitated it. it was an interesting change of pace but i am excited to go back to second person haha. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 11,687

[Name] used to joke Jameson was crazy enough to have a guillotine hiding somewhere in his office, and today, her speculations just might be confirmed, because he’s going to have her head.

The discordant beeping of the alarm clock starts far away, at the other end of some tunnel, and she’s moving slowly towards it, at a pace like walking, then like running, then like she’s got a train at her back and it’s pushing her forward at full speed. When the volume becomes clear and loud—and oh Christ is it loud—her eyes open suddenly, jarred to consciousness.

How long had it been going off? She doesn’t remember hitting snooze. Maybe she had, and she’d done it without fully waking up, or maybe she hadn’t, and she’d slept straight through it. Neither is good, so she figures it’s not worth trying to decide which it was. She props herself up on her elbow to look over at the clock on the nightstand, and her heart rate picks up at seeing the time. Shit.

Adrenaline courses through her veins and prompts her to stand up, kicking the blankets away. She nearly trips over herself in her haste, rummaging through her dresser for a clean button-up and skirt. Once she’s dressed, she brushes your teeth and combs through her hair, trying not to tug too hard on the knots. She hisses in pain when she pulls a little aggressively. Of all days to have nasty tangles. Eventually she gives up trying to get all of them out and ties her hair up in a ponytail.

There’s nothing prepared in the kitchen since she usually leaves herself more than enough time to make something in the morning, so instead she snatches an apple from the fruit basket. Her teeth sink into it to hold it in place as she slips on her shoes and grabs her jacket and purse. She’s out of the apartment in record time, and a glance at her watch tells her that if the trains aren’t running late today, and she walks at a brisk pace, she’ll make it.

She throws the apple core in the trash can before traipsing down the stairs of the subway station at the end of her building’s block. It’s at this moment that she realizes she left her water bottle on the kitchen counter, and she deflates slightly. She’ll just have to get water from the water cooler at work. She hopes no one tries to make smalltalk when she does. As much as [Name] likes Helen, she doesn’t really care about her son’s little league games (and their striking—no pun intended—zero loss season). Their season record is the same every year anyway.

As the train makes its stops, she can’t stop staring at her watch. For some reason it feels like the subway is lagging today, taking too long to open the doors and close them again. She wonders if the anxiety is visible on her face, because she feels like it’s obvious. Everyone else in her car looks some combination of bored and tired despite the fact it’s only 8:45 (Holy shit it’s 8:45 I am going to be so late—!) on a Monday morning. Or perhaps it’s because it’s 8:45 on a Monday morning. No one is ever ready or looking forward to heading into work for the next eight or however many hours.

She practically runs out of the train when she arrives at her stop, and skip steps going up to ground level. Good thing she wore flats today. She can see her place of work from the corner where this subway station exit leads to. There’s only one crosswalk to wait for, and then it’s a straight line to the Daily Bugle. She could do this. No problem.

The breeze kicked up by the motion of her pushing the door back to enter ruffles her ponytail. She doesn’t even give herself a chance to look at her watch again. There’s no time, and she's already so close. She yells for the man in the elevator to hold the door for her and thankfully he does. Inside, she presses the button for her floor, and grows a little annoyed that the other occupant has to get out a couple of floors below hers. Great. More waiting.

She tries to distract herself by staring at the numbers counting off the floors. When the man gets to his floor, he says Have a good day, but she’s only half-paying attention and mutters something incomprehensible that was meant to sound like You too. Once on her floor, she barely waits for the metal doors to slide apart before she squeezes between them and makes it into the office. She catches a glimpse of the clock hanging on the far wall. The hour hand is on 9 and the minute hand is on 12. Yes! She made it!

Or at least, she thought she did. She’s halted on the walk to her desk by a harsh voice calling out her last name. She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, then opens them again as she turns around to sheepishly face the one who addressed her.

“You’re thirty seconds late,” Jameson states. He doesn’t voice it but [Name] knows there’s an implied question tacked on to the end of it—Why?

“I know. I’m sorry, sir.” She doesn’t bother trying to give a reason because he wouldn’t hear any of it. There’s no excuse to be presented to a man like Jameson. “It won’t happen again.”

He crosses his arms, disapproval apparent in his eyes, and it stings. He’s already intimidating, more so when he’s angry. “It better not.” She doesn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he returns to his office, and at the sound of the door clicking back into place, she exhales.

There are some people who glance her way at the confrontation but most people don’t. Jameson chewing someone out is far from new. One of the onlookers, however, is the boy sitting across her desk, and he’s leaning back and tinkering with a pen, smiling sympathetically as she plops down in her chair,.

“Sleep past your alarm?” Liam asks.

She sets her purse under her desk and turns on her computer. “Yeah… How’d you know?”

“My super mystical powers.” Liam uses his free hand to wiggle his fingers. [Name] raises a brow, thoroughly unconvinced and unamused (though could she be blamed? It hasn’t been the greatest morning), and then he just shrugs, giving her the real answer. “You are never late for work. Never. The only way you would be is if you woke up late.”

“Well, it was a late night,” she mutters, logging in. The clack of the keyboard fills the next few moments of silence as Liam thinks about her words.

“Was it…”

“No. It wasn’t that.” She shakes her head. “I was finishing up my preliminary research for that article I’m writing. I conduct the interview today.”

“Oh, managed to get in talks with the doctor himself, did you?”

“More like with his assistant, which is the next best thing. He said in the e-mail I could stop by after lunch.” Liam nods, and [Name] changes the subject. “How’s your article going?”

“It’s… going,” he responds off-handedly. “Zero pizazz to it, honestly, but there really isn’t anything exciting about little leagues, even if one of the teams has gone 12-0 this season.”

[Name] laughs. “Try telling that to Helen.” At this, Liam laughs too.

———

Lunch is a hot dog and can of cola from the food truck that sets up shop right outside the Daily Bugle offices. One-third of the reason [Name] comes here is that it’s quick and convenient; another one-third is that it’s cheap; and the last one-third is that street dogs are just good as hell. She eats at her desk, scarfing the hot dog down as she reads the follow-up e-mail from Doctor Octavius’s assistant to remind her that he’ll be in the lab until four o’clock. He gives her his phone number at the end so she can contact him directly once she’s outside the building.

Liam watches as she takes a big bite before she brushes the crumbs off her hands and types out her reply. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you hadn’t eaten in days.”

She rolls her eyes. “I only had an apple this morning, and admittedly, I’m really nervous for the interview. This is a huge deal.”

“You’ll do fine.” Liam waves a hand dismissively. “You always do.”

His words settle in the back of [Name]’s mind when she’s on the subway again, making her way to Octavius Industries. They’re comforting, and help a little in alleviating her worries, but those concerns become more difficult to push aside as she gets closer to her destination. She wonders if this assistant will be nice, and she hopes that he is. The technology that he and Doctor Octavius are developing is too advanced for her to understand, and despite the extra research she’s done to prepare for this, she doesn’t feel like any of it has helped much. He’ll need to slow things down for her. A lot. Fingers crossed he’s patient.

There are no indications on the exterior of the brick building that let her know she’s arrived at the correct place. She double checks the address and compares it to her location on her phone’s GPS, only to see that they indeed match. With a sigh, she peers up once more at the structure before opening up her messaging app.

I’m downstairs!

[Name] hits send, and barely ten seconds has gone by when she sees three little bubbles pop up at the bottom of the chat, and then she gets her response: Great! Heading down right now!

She readjusts her bag’s strap on her shoulder, a nervous tic she’s developed over time. In the other hand she holds her phone, and she absentmindedly stares at their two-message conversation, not bothering to tap her finger on the screen to keep it lit up as it switches off, and she’s left staring at herself reflected back.

The sound of the front door opening grabs her attention and she lowers her phone to her side, looking at the boy who comes out and meets her on the sidewalk. He’s wearing a lab coat over his jeans and plaid button-up, and he grins amicably. “Hey,” he greets brightly. “I’m Peter. Doctor Octavius’s assistant.”

“I’m [Name].” [Name] smiles and shakes his outstretched hand. It’s warm. He motions towards the door and asks Shall we? and she nods, falling in step behind him as he leads her inside and in the direction of the elevator.

Octavius Industries occupies the top floor, and there’s a sign hanging to the left of the door bearing this name. It’s ordinary, and most certainly not eye-catching, which [Name] considers to be strange because she knows the scope of what Peter and Doctor Octavius are working on, if not the finer details then just the fact that it’s big, and it’s revolutionary. She figured the lab would’ve appeared more grand, at least on the outside. But she’s still awed as Peter opens the door to allow her through, and her eyes widen as she finds herself surrounded by terminals and workbenches full of tools and prosthetics in the making.

“Sorry it’s a little messy,” Peter begins, closing the door behind him and rounding [Name] to try to clean up the nearest workbench, pushing equipment to the side but stopping when he comes to the conclusion there’s too much clutter to make a difference in just a few seconds. “And it’s just me in the lab today. Doc’s been feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Hope he feels better soon.” [Name] smiles sympathetically as she grabs her notebook and a pen from her bag. She flips through for the first empty page, and as she does, Peter can see each page as they pass, and he grins a little to himself when he sees all the doodles dotted among the hastily written notes.

He listens intently as she asks her questions, and he answers them to the best of his ability while making them easy to understand. And she’s grateful because it means she can follow along, and it also means that her audience will be able to follow along too. It didn’t matter if she understood this stuff just as well as he did. Her readers most likely wouldn’t.

He leads her to one of the prosthetics resting on a table and picks up the tablet resting near by, pulling up the circuits on the screen to show her. Neuroprosthetics is certainly a difficult and still growing field, he explains, but we really feel like we’re making leaps and bounds here. [Name] can hear the passion laced in his voice when he says this, and the corner of her lips lifts into a lopsided smile.

“Does it ever feel… cramped, to work in a space like this?” She asks gently so as not to offend, motioning to the space around her. But luckily, Peter doesn’t take it badly. Instead, as soon as this gets brought up, his shoulders sag and he relaxes and he doesn’t try to hide his worries.

“It does feel like that sometimes. The funding for this project hasn’t been the greatest,” he admits solemnly. “Our funders want results before giving any more grant money, but it’s been slow. Lots of bumps to smooth out, and I know we’re on the cusp of a breakthrough. It’s just that… there hasn’t been enough time, and not enough money.”

[Name] sighs and click her pen, retracting the nib. There’s no doubt that what Peter and Doctor Octavius are working on here in this one room, this one unassuming room in some unassuming building here in New York, with the likes of Oscorp or the Avengers Tower just several subway stops away, is an incredible innovation, and another step forward into the future. How many projects have suffered the same fate, she wonders? Inventions with the potential to shift the paradigm of the world as it’s currently known, only to be stifled by a lack of funding. It all comes back to money. And it’s why she’s writing this article in the first place.

“That’s what I’m hoping to change with this article,” she tells Peter. “Maybe it’ll garner the attention of the right individuals, and you’ll get that grant money.”

Peter smiles and tucks his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “Thanks for writing this. Funding aside, I think what we’re doing is important, and it’ll be good for more people to see that.”

“Of course.”

[Name] takes her final notes on any closing remarks Peter might want to make, and when those are done, he walks her back out. She thanks him for agreeing to the interview, and he shrugs casually and says it’s no problem. Felt nice to share this project with someone else. The remark makes her smile and she thinks distantly that maybe the two of them could be friends. It certainly felt as though she’d been talking with one for the past hour. Once they’re outside, she turns to him.

“I’m aiming to have the article published sometime this week. It’s the only thing on my plate right now, so I can really focus on it.”

“I look forward to reading it!” Peter’s smile is soft and it makes her stomach flip. He probably flashes that smile at everyone, she tries to reason. That tender nature seems to just be part of him. There’s nothing between the lines to read. So don’t bother, [Name]. But still, she pretends for a moment like he doesn’t flash that grin at just anybody, and that maybe it does mean something.

Peter stays glued to his spot on the concrete walkway as he watches [Name] walk away, and only retreats back inside after she turns the corner. Someone is in the elevator when it reaches the ground floor and he stands to the side to allow them through. Back in the lab, he shrugs off the white coat and hangs it on the hook by the door. It’s just past four o’clock. Sometimes he chooses to stay later to keep working, especially if Doc is out sick, but he’s still riding a bit of a high from that interview, and he’d like to carry that with him for as long as he’s able.

The last task he carries out before leaving for the day is sending a quick e-mail to Doc about how the interview went. It’s short and simple, with comments like It went great and Get well soon. The loading bar races across the screen, and a quiet ding signals that the e-mail has been sent. After that’s done, he’s ready to go.

He opens the door, ready to lock up, and stands in the frame, hand braced on the light switch as he gives the lab a once-over. He’s thinking back to the way [Name]’s face lit up as she walked in here, into a space that he considers less than magnificent and hardly roomy enough. Yet that hardly mattered to her, and the wonder in her gaze made her look like she’d stepped into a whole other world. The thought makes him smile. She had been so sweet, he was bummed when the hour was over.

His duffel bag is hidden on the roof, and he goes to retrieve it. It’s a little earlier than usual to begin his daily patrol, but there’s no harm in that—just more time to catch criminals. He trades his regular clothes for his suit, sliding into it with practiced precision. The material hugs his form, becoming like a second skin, and he slips on the mask, allowing the eyepieces to calibrate. He perches on the ledge while it does, watching as various readouts of the HUD pop up on the periphery of his vision.

“All right then…” he murmurs, taking in the expanse of the city in front of him. He would never get tired of this. New York pulses with energy, full of life, a universe of its own, and from the tops of the highest buildings he feels like he’s walking past a display in a museum, looking down, looking in, at all the people and the cars that look like ants from so far up. And every single time, it hits him. He’s protecting a whole city, and it’s a city he loves very much.

He zips his way between buildings, police radio filtering into one of his ears. Whenever he picks up a dispatch in the area, he’s quick to make his way over. He stops a car jacking and right after helps a lady get her cat out of a tree. The latter he hadn’t heard from the radio. She’d seen him swinging by and called him over. He retrieved the feline easily; its name was Percy. Cute cat! he’d complimented, and then he was away again.

His stomach had started to grumble and he stopped by a hot dog stand to grab some food. The vendor had given it to him for free, and Peter smiled before realizing the man wouldn’t be able to see it, so he gave an audible thanks. He swings his way along to some rooftop with one hand, the other busy holding his dinner, and when he’s sitting comfortably on the edge, he rolls his mask up to just beneath his nose so he can eat.

He watches the sun set, the sky fading from orange to purple to black. The city is awash with lights, bouncing off slightly wet roads from the light drizzle that has started. He can already imagine the distinct smell of wet asphalt and it almost seems to reach his nose despite the fact he’s way off the ground. Some people have their umbrellas out, black nylon dots moving to and fro on the sidewalk and the zebra crossings.

A new dispatch comes through of a robbery just a few streets away, and Peter stands up, rolling his mask back down. He takes a few steps back and gets a running start as he jumps off the building, building up speed on the descent before slinging a new web. A couple of units respond to the call but he knows he’ll beat them there. It’s not far now.

He turns the corner and sees the canvas overhang bearing the name of the jewelry store, and he hides in the shadows to survey the criminals, counting five, dressed in black, of considerable stature and build. They’re armed to the teeth with guns, yelling at the employees to stand against the wall while they smash glass cases and stuff the valuables into bags. When he sees them making their way towards the door, he braces himself to head in, but he’s beaten to the punch.

A swift form darts down, catching them off guard as it kicks away their guns and dodges any bullets they manage to fire in their shock. Peter watches in a similar state of surprise as this figure he doesn’t recognize takes down all five of the robbers with increasing ease. He zooms in his HUD for a better view of the scene.

A mask obscures the lower half of the girl’s face, and her hair is tied in a braid to keep it out of her way. It’s hard to analyze her fully since she’s moving so quickly, and he only has a few seconds to get a good look after she takes out the final criminal. She stands in the midst of the chaos, of the bodies and the shattered glass and the shop alarms, and scans the canvas bags full of jewelry now laying out on the sidewalk, seeming to take count and make sure they’re all there. Her eyes narrow, and they look… weird. Different. Peter can’t quite describe them but he’s never seen eyes like that, and he’s still stuck on the thought of them even after she retreats and disappears in the darkness.

Pedestrians had stopped to see what was going on, and remain there, muttering to each other as the cops arrive, all loud sirens and blinking red and blue lights. Who was that? Peter can hear them saying, and he’s wondering the same thing.

He doesn’t run into her again for the remainder of the evening, but with every swing around a block, and with every crime he swoops in to stop, there’s a part of him deep down that kept hoping he would.

———

It’s another bright and beautiful day in New York and [Name] is at the office with five minutes to spare. By the time Liam arrives and shrugs off his messenger bag, taking a seat in his desk across from her, she’s three sentences into her first rough draft.

“You beat me here today,” Liam remarks playfully.

[Name] chuckles. “Didn’t want Jameson scolding me again.”

“No staying up late to do research then?”

“Staying up late doing other things, but don’t worry, I made sure to be home before midnight.”

There’s a flash in [Name]’s gaze, and Liam takes a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. She isn’t looking at him, too busy typing away, and he studies her closely as he repeatedly clicks the pen he has in his hand. When he responds, his voice is hushed. “Keep that up, and people will start asking questions.”

The statement is vague, but [Name] doesn’t need it to be clarified. She knows exactly what he’s talking about, and upon hearing it, her attention is pulled away from her word document. Her hands slides off the keyboard and drop into her lap as she stares at her friend. “Then let them,” she tells him matter-of-factly, voice equally quiet, and she shrugs.

She doesn’t let herself be distracted for too long, for she returns to writing without waiting for what Liam has to say in return. She’s determined to have this article edited and published before the end of the week. It’s what she had told Peter she would try to do, and if she’s being honest with herself, she’s excited to know what he thinks of the article when he finally reads it. As she writes, she’s brainstorming in the back of her mind supplemental questions to ask him that would lend more details to her article. And the rationalization makes perfect sense, one that hardly merits suspicion, but she’s her and she knows herself best, and she knows she’s only looking for excuses to talk to him again.

The first draft is completed by later in the day, and she looks it over while sipping at her soda. Her lips rest absentmindedly around the straw, fingers of one hand curled around the cold aluminum can and her other hand correcting any typos she comes across. Now, the offices are hardly ever completely silent. It’s an impossible demand to have, considering that at any moment there was typing, or a ringing telephone, or the chatter of some coworkers a few desks away. But considering [Name]’s proximity to him, Liam finds it difficult to block out the noise of her slurping as the last of the carbonated liquid is consumed and she’s sucking up nothing but air. He pauses in his writing, eyes sliding over to her. She seems not to have noticed.

He opens his mouth, about to ask her to stop because it’s really distracting, but he catches her eyes flickering over to her phone, which is sitting face up on her desk, before going back to the computer screen. That’s not the first time he’d witnessed her doing that within the past hour. And he closes his mouth and furrows his brows as he wonders what that could possibly mean.

“You keep looking at your phone,” he says finally.

[Name] sits up straight, lowering the can of soda from her mouth, and the surprise on her face makes her look like a deer in headlights. “What?”

“Are you expecting a call?”

“No…” [Name] trails off, glancing down at her phone. The embarrassment at being caught makes it hard to maintain eye contact. She thought she was being so subtle too! Perhaps it’d do her good to remember who she’s dealing with here. Liam is nothing if not observant.

He’s looking at her silently now, brow raised, clearly waiting for an explanation. She almost doesn’t give one, not willing to divulge her humiliating infatuation. It just seems so elementary to have a crush the way she does currently, and “crushes” are something she considered herself to be above. But in the few seconds of the tense stare-off, it occurs to her that maybe it’s because she’s never met someone whose smile made her feel like it was summer in the middle of January. And so she cracks. Liam’s whole keep-quiet-and-they’ll-keep-talking strategy is way too effective.

“Okay!” she exclaims quietly, not wanting to draw attention. She sets her can down on the desk and holds up both hands, palms out. “I keep trying to think of questions to ask Peter Parker, the one I went to interview yesterday, but honestly the article is as detailed as it can get without being redundant and I’m this”—she brings her thumb and index finger close together, leaving a small gap between them—“close to just making up something random so I can talk to him.”

There’s a flush to her cheeks and it’s endearing, it is, but she’s so mortified at the confession that Liam can’t help chuckling. “[Name] [Last Name] flustered?” he questions playfully. “He must be special.”

She groans, burying her face in her hands. “Is it bad if I say yeah, he is despite the fact I’ve only had one conversation with him and it was about his work?”

“No.” Liam shakes his head. “If you like him, you like him. Give him a call.”

[Name] peeks between her fingers to look at her friend. His grin is encouraging, and she sits up and grabs her phone. Her thumb hovers over the screen, poised to navigate to her contacts list, but she can’t bring herself to go through with it. What would she even talk about? It’s an internal battle, one that she really does not want to be having right now at work. Eventually she sighs and sets her phone back down. “I will, just… not now.”

Liam nods in understanding. “Fair enough.” And that signals the end of it. She’ll always be grateful he never pushes the envelope on things. That’s not pressure she needs.

———

As soon as the article is cleared for publishing, [Name] takes a look at all the other articles that will be going into tomorrow’s paper alongside it. She has a plan for her piece that she’s hoping she’ll be able to carry out, and the ease with which she can argue her case with Jameson all depends on what else is going to be published. For most of it, she’s in the clear, and with every headline she scans, her assurance grows. But the final one at the bottom stops her short, and she heaves a sigh.

Liam hears it and asks if she’s okay, taking a second to spare a glance at her while writing in his notebook, and she shrugs and says I don’t know. No, she can’t just roll over that easily. She might be walking into an argument with a significant disadvantage, but she’s practiced for this! All those years of college writing and debate got her ready. A burst of confidence shoots through her and she stands, but bit by bit that confidence whittles away the closer she gets to the lion’s den. Now that she thinks about it, she’s not so sure that preparation counts for anything considering who she’s up against…

She knocks on the door, three curt raps—any fewer and he wouldn’t hear, any more and he’d complain she was making an unnecessary racket. “Mister Jameson?”

There’s a grunt, her cue to enter, and she twists the knob, pushing the door open. She steps into the office and closes it behind her, and the noises from outside with all the other employees is silenced. Jameson is sitting in his chair, papers littered across his desk and a cigar sitting in his mouth.

“What is it?” he questions gruffly. He never tries to hide his impatience, and it’s whipped everyone into shape. Always prompt, all the time.

“I was wondering if my piece on Octavius Industries could headline tomorrow’s edition.” [Name] comes right out with it, and she rushes to explain herself before Jameson can shoot her down. “It’s just that I think it’s a really important article, and eye-catching too. So I figured it’d make a good… page one spread…” Her initial firm tone fades to one of timidity as she trails off at the end. Jameson doesn’t appear convinced in the slightest, and now she’s wondering if she’d been a fool to bring this up.

He grasps his cigar between his index and middle fingers and blows a puff of smoke. It floats in the air between them briefly before dissipating. “No can do. There’s a new piece on Spider-Man ready to go. Spider-Man: Super-Hero or Super-Zero?” As he quotes the article title, he sits back in his chair, sweeping his hand from left to right, envisioning the way it would look in print.

[Name] purses her lips and while Jameson takes those few moments to get lost in his thoughts (and distaste for the red and blue vigilante), she contemplates if she should keep trying. Is it worth the effort at this point? Well, she is already in here. Go big or go home, right? “Don’t you think it’d be nice to have something different on the front page this time? Something fresh.”

“What do you mean? We had Fisk on the front page last week!”

“I guess what I mean to say is… maybe it would do the paper good to take a step back from having vigilantes and criminals making page one. At least once.”

It’s quiet again and Jameson stares at her, the cigar replaced between his lips. She can’t tell what’s going through his mind, and a part of her is nervous he’s going to explode. When he gets really mad, it’s easy to hear his yells from outside his office. And whoever has been chewed out always looks humiliated and like they’re five seconds away from crying (or at least shedding a tear or two). She forces a polite smile onto her face as she waits.

“You know,” he starts, and she flinches ever so slightly, for she’d been so sure she was about to be yelled at (she hopes he hadn’t noticed but if he did, he doesn’t say anything), “I like you, [Name]. You’re a hard worker. So I’ll tell you what: your piece can take page two.”

This is the stopping point. She’s not about to argue any farther, lest her article get pushed back more. So she nods. “That sounds great! Page 2 is just as fantastic. Thank you, sir.”

Jameson grunts, grabs his cigar again. There’s another plume of smoke. “Now if that’s all…” He makes a shooing motion with his hand. She’s dismissed.

Liam looks up at [Name] as she sits back down at her desk, and he tilts his head as he analyzes her distraught expression. “I can’t tell if your talk with Jameson was successful or not.”

“It went fine, but it could’ve gone better. Jameson’s not pushing the Spider-Man article for tomorrow. So I have page two.” She huffs.

“Page two is still good!”

“But come on, Liam! Another Spider-Man article?” The exasperation in her voice is apparent, and as she continues, her voice lowers to ensure no one can overhear. “I don’t understand why he’s so set on this smear campaign…”

Liam smiles sympathetically. Reasons for her disagreement with Jameson’s stance on Spider-Man run deeper than they do for the average New Yorker. Spider-Man’s a vigilante, but he does a lot of good, she’d said once when looking at one of the many Daily Bugle front page spreads on the web slinger—a negative one, as always. She wished Jameson and people like him would understand that. He’s not the bad guy.

“Well who knows,” Liam speculates. “Maybe something will come along eventually that’ll grab Jameson’s attention enough to make it page one instead of good ol’ Spidey.”

[Name] lets out a breath as she laughs, and it toes the line of disbelief. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Even if her conversation with Jameson hadn’t been as successful as she was hoping, her spirits are lifted again because now that her article is about to come out, she can finally talk to Peter again. Not that she hadn’t been able to before, but this is a perfectly legitimate reason. She won’t be left a stuttering mess trying to scramble for topics that aren’t about the weather.

But for all that excitement, she struggles to actually make the call. She spends most of the commute home switching between staring at his contact on her phone and shoving her phone back in her bag. It’s not until she’s gotten off the subway at her stop and is on her street that she finally gets the nerve to call him.

It rings three times, and then she hears him. “Hello?”

“Hey, Peter!” she greets. “It’s [Name].”

“Hey, yourself! What’s up?”

“I was just calling to tell you my article’s been cleared for publishing. It’s going up tomorrow.”

“What? That’s great! I can’t wait to read it.”

She can sense his excitement, and it’s entirely genuine. It makes her cheeks warm and her smile wide. A gust of wind kicked up by a passing public transport bus blows her hair around and she runs a hand through it to tame it. “Not quite front page though I’m afraid. I tried, but I was competing with a Spider-Man article, and you know how Jameson is.”

Peter chuckles. “I do. But to be honest, that doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is that you wrote that piece at all. You’re getting the word out.”

He’s right, she realizes. Her motivation from the start had been to draw attention to Octavius Industries. She’d been hoping to have the front page for maximum exposure, but in her talk with Jameson today her motivations had blurred together, and it turned into wanting to have the main headline for the sake of avoiding an over-saturation of Spider-Man articles (though it is a little late for that). She sympathizes with Spider-Man a lot more than other people do, relates to him a lot more they they do, and Jameson’s smear campaigns never sat well with her because of that. But when looking at the situation from her original purpose, to show what Peter and Doctor Octavius are doing, page two isn’t bad. Not by a long shot.

“I’m really glad I decided to write this piece, and I hope you like it,” [Name] states.

“I already know I will.”

The remark and the ease with which he says it makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. She feels like she could take off with wings of her own and she’s trying to pull herself back down to earth. Neither of them speaks for a few beats, and [Name] wonders if this is the point where she says goodbye. But she doesn’t want to, she wants to keep talking to him and hear his voice, and she wracks her brain for something else to talk about. What the hell! She hadn’t planned this far.

But Peter beats her to to it, and not quite in a way she expected. “You know, not that I’m annoyed by it or anything, because I’m not, but you could’ve texted me this too. Is there any particular reason you decided to call instead?”

She sputters, and Peter laughs. Her face feels hot as she enters her apartment building and makes a beeline for the elevator. This is so embarrassing! (In the midst of this embarrassment she notes his laugh is really cute.) “W-Well, I just—” She groans in frustration at her sudden inability to piece together a sentence, so she takes a deep breath and starts over.

“You were so easy to talk to the other day when I was at the lab, and I don’t know… I just wanted to do it again. I like talking to you,” she admits shyly.

When Peter doesn’t respond right away, she automatically assumes the worst. Oh no. Had she moved too quickly? Did he not feel the same way? Her eyes slide closed as she mentally prepares herself for rejection. Nice job, [Name], just assuming this could go anywhere. It was just one interview, and it only lasted one hour—

“How about we talk in person then?” Peter’s suggestion interrupts her train of thought. “Maybe over some pizza?”

[Name]’s eyes open just as the elevator dings, and she gets out, walking down the hall toward her flat. “Yeah…” she replies quietly, but then she clears her throat and speaks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” With every word her lips curve into a smile, and she bites at her lip lest she smile so big her face cracks.

They agree to meet at New Park Pizza tomorrow, and Peter’s grinning from ear to ear as he says goodbye and hangs up. The corner of his HUD reads Call ended and he misses [Name]’s voice already. He’s crouched on the ledge of some skyscraper in Manhattan where the air is cool and crisp. Up here, the birds are his company, weaving their way through buildings. One flies above his head and he swears he could run the tip of his suited fingers along its soft down if he were to extend his arm above him.

He stands slowly, toes hanging off the edge, surveying the streets below. There’s the familiar blinking of police sirens that are nothing but blips at this distance, and he’s too far to hear them. But what he does hear is the dispatch coming in through the radio. It’s nowhere near as pleasant to listen to as [Name] had been.

Peter’s eyes narrow, his suit’s eyepieces narrowing in turn. That police car must be on its way to the scene. A couple of birds stretch their wings from their perch not much farther down the ledge from him, and they take flight, swooping down and finding their path flittering among the towers. He follows suit, jumping off the edge, and there’s the familiar sensation of his stomach dropping as he seems to float in the air for a few seconds in silence. And then he’s diving, speed building, wind roaring in his ears, and the blare of the sirens and the honks of the yellow cabs grow clearer with every foot he falls. Adrenaline fills his veins and it’s nothing new, but the novelty won’t ever be lost on him. He shoots a web to pull himself forward, and another, and another. He’ll get there before that police cruiser does.

It turns out to be a drug bust down by the docks. Apparently a big one too, since as Peter gets closer, he can see the guns blazing. The police are using their open car doors to shield themselves from the bullets, but he gets right in the middle of the action. He releases two webs so he can slingshot himself into the first man, feet hitting his chest at full speed and knocking him down to the ground.

“Having a party without me?” he asks, hand going to his chest in feigned offense as he looks at the rest of the criminals. “I have to admit, I’m a little hurt, you guys.” He doesn’t bother waiting for a response (though he doubts they would have any except to shoot at him) before he’s on them, maneuvering and avoiding the bullets with a precision and fluidity that’d be otherwise absent without his Spidey senses.

Cover Spider-Man! Peter can hear one of the officers yelling. The job is done quickly. Disarming the criminals came first, and then webbing them to the ground or telephone poles or what have you was a piece of cake. At the end of it, he stands in the center to observe his work, hands poised on his hips. He nods in approval. He did clean up nicely.

He freezes when another dispatch comes in. It’s for a mugging in the vicinity. He wastes no time in shooting another web and pulling himself up and away, back towards the streets, and he frees up a hand to wave as some of the police yell out a thanks for the assist.

Rounding a corner, he spots another police car pulled over on the curb. The lights flash colors to match his suit, but the siren is off. From the looks of it, the mugger’s already been caught, and the lady he’d stolen from is clutching her bag against her chest. Rather than swinging right by or turning around in search of another crime that needs stopping, he swings along until he can settle on top of the building the cruiser is parked in front of. He’s thirty feet off the ground but as he listens in, the voices are clear as day.

“I’m telling you, it was crazy!” the mugger exclaims. Peter tilts his head in confusion. Obviously he had begun to eavesdrop on an already ongoing conversation. “Her eyes looked like stars! A sky full of them!”

“Sure. Okay.” The police offer doesn’t believe a word of it, shaking his head and guiding the suspect into the back of his car.

But it does grab Peter’s attention. That description is familiar. He lifts his gaze and surveys the tops of what buildings he can see from his vantage point, as though he’ll catch a glimpse of her somewhere. She’s out there tonight, patrolling the streets like he is. She stopped this mugging before he could get here. Surely she couldn’t have gone far. If there are any more dispatches from this area, he’s willing to bet she’ll be at the scene.

As if on cue, another call comes through: bank robbery on 14th. Only a few blocks away. Peter heads in that direction, hoping his assumption had been correct.

It seems the bank has been cleared of civilians by now. Only the robbers remain inside, and they open fire on any officers who try to come inside. The windows are shattered and the alarm is shrill and grating. The noise makes Peter’s ears ring, and he can hardly hear himself think in the ensuing chaos. There’s a flash of movement inside, and suddenly one of the robbers falls to the ground in a crumpled heap, fingers loosely grasping his weapon. Peter inhales sharply. That had to be her.

He wastes no time entering the building, colliding with one of the men and kicking him back into a wall, effectively knocking him out. One down. Peter turns his attention to the rest of his surroundings and his impromptu partner for the ordeal. She moves swiftly from one criminal to another, all of whom look so brutish in comparison with clunky armor and big guns. Her movements make her hard to catch, and she’s too close range to be shot at. He can tell she’s trying to separate them to prevent them from teaming up, and he does the same, making sure they’re spread out so he can take them down safely without risking getting caught from behind.

With two of them, subduing all the robbers goes by fast, and they mostly stay out of each other’s way. Peter’s fine with that. The girl looks perfectly capable of taking down her share. Besides, she has her methods, and he doesn’t want to interrupt. He knocks one of the few left down to the ground and webs him, and suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stand, his senses beginning to buzz.

He whips around in time to see the final criminal, tall and all muscle, seconds away from barreling into him with a tackle, but there’s no contact, and instead a lithe leg sweeps across his knees and forces him to the cold tiled floors. The girl seems to fly into his space before he can react, hand flying to his pressure point and squeezing. And then he’s out like a light.

Peter won’t lie: he’s impressed. He’d watched her in action the other night, but it’s an entirely different experience up close, especially as he’s working alongside her this time. As she stands straighter, he can finally get a good, proper look at her. He’s drawn to her eyes, no longer viewing them from a zoomed in HUD, and he understands why the mugger had pointed them out, and why the officer wasn’t convinced what the mugger was saying was even real.

Instead of a sclera with iris and pupil, her lashes frame deep pools of black. No, a sky of black. That mugger had been more accurate. Flecks of white dot the expanse like stars. Peter’s reminded of little marbles that seem to hold the galaxy in them, and it’s hard to look away.

“Thanks,” he says, motioning to the unconscious robber laying between them, but he quiets down immediately when she holds a finger up to her masked mouth. She’s noticed something he hadn’t, and he wonders what, because they’re the only two still standing in the lobby. Her head turns in the direction of the open door behind the counter, and he follows her line of sight.

She starts walking in that direction, and he trails behind. They step over bodies and discarded weapons and wads of cash, footfalls completely silent. Through the door and down the stairs is the vault, which is slightly opened. From where they are, they can’t see inside. Peter catches on: there’s someone inside. She looks at him and he nods before setting his hands on the heavy vault door and waiting for her to get in position. Their exchange is wordless as he raises a hand to count off: three, two, one.

Peter yanks the door back with an ease that comes from his superhuman strength, and the girl braces herself to pounce on whoever is in there. But her stance relaxes as they both take in the bank teller cowering in the corner, tears streaming down her face. She’d tucked her face into her drawn up knees as the door opened, prepared for the worst, and she peeks up to see who had found her. She lets out a breath of relief at spotting her saviors standing at the entrance.

“It’s okay,” Peter starts, approaching slowly. She’s in shock, and he doesn’t want to make it worse. He has his palms out, and when directly in front of her, he bends down to gently pick her up, one arm behind her back and the other at the bend of her knees. The girl had known the bank teller was in here. But how? Did it have something to do with her eyes?

He wants to ask but figures questions like that are a little too on the nose considering they hardly know each other. Perhaps later down the road. He turns back toward the vault exit—she’s not standing there anymore. Not wanting to jostle the lady in his arms, he walks briskly rather than run out of the vault, and he looks left and right for any sign of her. He sees her at the emergency exit, one he knows leads to the alley between this building and the one next door, but he calls out to her before she can leave.

“Hey, wait!”

She halts and slowly her gaze turns to him, waiting for what he has to say. But then Peter realizes he has no idea where to start. He hadn’t actually expected her to stop. Does he say thanks? Does he ask who she is? Does he ask Why now? Because he has never seen her around until now but she seems to know this city just as well he does, so surely she’s been in New York for a long while.

All the questions are good, but it’s a matter of deciding which to ask first. However, all this debating back and forth within himself causes him to run out of what little time she’d allotted for him to speak to her, and he’s forced to watch as she leans back on the push bar and slips through the gap, there one second, and gone the very next.

He sighs in disappointment at coming away with no answers, but doesn’t dwell on it too long. The police are sure to be inside already, cuffing all the perps. He carries the woman back upstairs, and as she does, she asks who that was just now. I don’t know, he responds truthfully. But he wishes he did.

———

He’s running late.

Upon this realization, he’d groaned, but it’s not exactly like he could ignore the stolen armored truck plowing down Canal Street. He slings a web onto its roof, pulling himself atop it, and the drive starts to zig zag back and forth even more than he had been before in an effort to knock him off, but Peter sticks to the vehicle easily. He crawls along the side, making sure to stay out of view of the passenger-side window.

“So I’ve got a date,” he announces, shouting to be heard over the noise of cars honking and veering out of the way, “and I really don’t appreciate that you guys are gonna make me late!”

The man in the passenger seat sticks his gun out the window, but Peter is quick to grab it and tug it out of his grip. He webs it into place against the side of the truck before pulling the man out as well, who he drops on the sidewalk to be picked up by one of the police cars speeding after the rogue vehicle.

“She’s the sweetest girl too. I need this date to go perfectly!” Peter crawls to the driver’s side now, and when the man frees up a hand to shoot him, he webs that hand so he can’t pull the trigger. Then he yanks him out of the seat, leaving him similarly abandoned on the ground, and climbs into the cabin, taking control of the wheel. He maneuvers the huge truck around other cars and slows it down, bit by bit until he comes to a complete stop right before a stoplight. It turns red when he puts the truck in park.

He crawls out, standing on the roof again, and looks down the street behind him. Traffic has all but stopped. Cars have swerved to the sides of the road and crowds of people have gathered on the sidewalk to ogle at the aftermath. Some of them take out their phones to take pictures. A stream of police cars come to a stop, and now that they’re there, Peter takes his leave. The time is displayed on the lower left corner of his HUD. If he’s fast, he wouldn’t be too late. Maybe five minutes tops. He’s got this.

———

[Name] sits in the corner booth of New Park Pizza and stares out the window, head resting on her propped up hand. Two glasses of water are on the table and the laminated menus sit undisturbed in the center. It’s three minutes past the agreed upon meeting time, and she wonders if her concern at Peter’s distinct absence is an overreaction. She’s almost inclined to text Liam and ask what he thinks, but it’s mostly because she’s getting antsy and needs a distraction.

No, don’t freak out, she tells herself. Maybe the trains are running a little behind. Yeah, that’s it. He’d be here. Peter doesn’t seem like the type to just bail. Still, even with this assurance, she’s jittery, and she starts to dig through her bag for her phone. Talking to Liam would be the only way to calm her down. Whenever he assures her of things, she always believes him.

The bell above the door jingles as a patron enters, and [Name] glances up to find Peter standing there, looking around for her. When he spots her, he smiles and it’s apologetic. Her hand slips out of her bag and she smiles back, sitting up as he slides into the shiny vinyl booth across from her.

“I”m sorry I’m late,” he says right out the gate. “I just got held up with some things and—”

“Don’t worry about it,” [Name] responds, waving a hand.

Peter’s smile shifts to one of thanks at the reassurance, and, more at ease now, he slides one of the menus toward himself and changes the topic to what would have been his original conversation starter, if he hadn’t come in late. “I read your article this morning.”

[Name]’s head snaps up from looking at her own menu, and she watches him in equal parts eagerness and nervousness, waiting for what he has to say. She doesn’t say it out loud, but the question is apparent in her eyes: And? What’d you think? Peter almost doesn’t want to answer right away, skirt around the subject, prolong his final opinion, if only to witness that overwhelming sense of curiosity written on her face. She’s hanging on every word, or will, anyway, once they leave his mouth.

“I thought it was great.” That’s not the full extent of his response, but it’s enough to make her eyes light up and her face break out into a toothy grin, unable to contain her joy. As much as he likes to see her curious gaze filled to the brim with interest, he likes seeing her smile more. It makes his heart twist a little—a minute and diminutive but not at all insignificant tightening of his chest, there to point his brain in the right direction.

“You explained our work really clearly,” he continues on, giving more detailed feedback because he knows it’s helpful to her as a journalist. “You made a good case for Octavius Industries. I can’t ever thank you enough for deciding to write this.”

[Name] takes a deep breath, shoulders lifting as her whole body puffs up, and she exhales and relaxes steadily. She’s putting together the words. “It felt… right to me, to do it. Sometimes the little guys get pushed under the rug, but they deserve a chance just as much as anyone else.”

Peter smiles softly. He thinks he can see the compassion that flows through her veins, can hear it pounding in his ears like it courses through his own. There’s care in everything she says, written and verbal, and he’s wondering where she’s been all his life. “And,” he adds on quietly, “if not for this article, we wouldn’t have met.”

She picks at the corner of her menu as she stares at him, fully processing his words, and the graceful curve of her lips is enough to turn him into ice cream on a hot summer day. Neither of them says anything, watching one another with the mutual realization that this is turning out to be more than shallow infatuation. The tips of Peter’s fingers twitch like there’s a current of electricity flittering between them both, like they’re two magnets slowly pulling together, and then colliding all at once. It’s a sense of connection almost scary in its strength, but he doesn’t fight it because she doesn’t either.

“Are you ready to order?”

Peter and [Name] are pulled back to reality as the waiter approaches, notepad out and pencil in hand. They stammer as they actually take a good look at their menus for the first time since they got to talking, and hastily decide upon a pepperoni pizza. The waiter writes the order down with a nod and collects the menus, then gives them one final smile before returning to the kitchen.

Asking for more time wouldn’t have been an issue, but they were so flustered from being interrupted that it hadn’t crossed their minds. They glance at each other again, little smirks on their faces, and then they can’t contain their laughs.

Pepperoni pizza might be a little lowbrow considering how many other options New Park Pizza offers, but it’s perfect to them. They grab slices off the tray, watching in awe the strings of cheese that stretch as they pull. Conversations are easy and laid-back and wonderful. [Name]’s eyes glimmer in the light of the setting sun outside New Park Pizza’s windows, and Peter feels like he’s known her for forever.

———

[Name] sits back in her chair, flipping through her notes. They’re messier than usual this time. The man she’d interviewed spoke a mile a minute and she was half-expecting her hand to spontaneously combust in its efforts to keep up. Her head tilts as she tries to decipher one word that looks like nothing more than chicken scratch. She’s about to lean across to Liam to ask if he can figure it out, but movement in her peripherals grabs her attention.

A man she doesn’t recognize is being led by the secretary to Jameson’s office. He’s gripping a manila folder and nods to her in thanks when she lets him in. The moment the door clicks shut, she turns to look at Liam, who’s already looking at her, similarly confused.

“Who was that?” she asks.

Liam shrugs. “Beats me.”

[Name]’s brows furrow. She gives one last glance at Jameson’s door before forcing herself to return to her work.

It’s not much longer until the man emerges again and takes his leave. [Name] finds herself distracted once more as she follows his retreating form. Just to take a break from staring at her ugly scrawling, she reasons, but it’s more than that. She glances at his hands: no more folder. Did he have something to offer Jameson? But what? Clearly it had piqued his interest. She’s itching to know more, and briefly wonders if Jameson would tell her if she asked.

However, it seems bringing it up herself wouldn’t be necessary, because said man opens his door wide enough to stand in the gap. “[Name],” he calls so he can be heard across the room. “Come in here.”

[Name] uncrosses her legs and sits straight, dropping her notebook on her desk with a quiet thwack! Her eyes slide over to Liam. It seems like they’ll be learning what that was all about. He smiles encouragingly and nods his head in the direction of Jameson’s still slightly ajar door. She walks over, slipping through the gap and shutting it behind her. Jameson is standing on the other side of his desk, leaning forward with his hands braced on the wooden surface.

He cuts to the chase. “What are you working on right now?”

“I’m writing about that new exhibit down at the Met.”

“Well you can forget about it.”

“Sir?” [Name] is even more lost now.

“Take a seat.” Jameson points at one of the two chairs opposite his desk, and she does as he instructs. “The gentleman you no doubt saw come in here just now had some fascinating photos to show me.”

Great. More photos of Spider-Man. [Name] represses a sigh, and though she really doesn’t care to, when Jameson twists the folder around and slides it closer to her, she picks it up and opens it to examine the contents inside. Except it’s not pictures of Spider-Man. It’s not pictures of anything she could’ve begun to expect when she saw that man come in with this folder in his possession.

The figure in the photographs seems to almost disappear in its dark suit against a dark sky. A mask conceals the bottom half of its face and darker still than its outfit or the nighttime backdrop of every snapshot are its eyes, black ink with white specks like stars. One shot is slightly closer, albeit grainy, but that vigilant gaze is nonetheless more pronounced and seems to be a more accurate representation of outer space than the sky looming in the back, nothing but a plain canvas, its details obscured by the plethora of city lights.

[Name]’s heart rate picks up as she goes through the photos. There aren’t many, and some are too far or too blurry to be usable, but it’s the fact these had been taken at all. She desperately tries to hide her shock. To be surprised at viewing these wouldn’t be out of the ordinary— since these are, of course, what just might be the first exclusive look at New York’s most recent night crawler, whose existence was making rounds purely by word of mouth considering its elusiveness, and its propensity for the shadows. But the level of shock [Name] is doing her best to hide goes beyond that, and would warrant suspicion, perhaps even leading to questions she would rather not answer.

She inhales deeply, willing her heartbeat to slow, and she forces her eyes away from the pictures in her hands to look at Jameson. “But what does this have to do with me dropping my current article?” Her voice doesn’t shake. Good.

“Because I want you to write this piece,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You weren’t able to land page one with your last article, so here’s your chance to do it.”

[Name]’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Holy shit. Holy shit. “Wow, uh, thank you, sir!” she forces herself to speak. Her breathlessness as her brain tries to make sense of this situation makes her feel like she’s just run a mile or three.

Jameson nods and motions to the photos, and she gives them back. He spreads them out on the desk, facing him, and he pores over them silently. She wrenches her hands in her lap and her gaze switches back and forth between the glossy pictures and Jameson’s face. His expression is unreadable, and she can’t begin to guess what he might be thinking.

“First, she needs a name,” he declares. [Name] isn’t sure if he wants any input but plays it safe and keeps her mouth shut. It’s quiet again, and her eyes narrow the longer she sits there, curious as to what sorts of names Jameson is going through in his head. Suddenly he snaps his fingers and looks at her, and she jumps a little in surprise at the quick movement.

“I got it.” He stands up straight.

[Name] exits his office with the manila folder tucked under her arm. Liam glances up, looking at her expectantly, but she doesn’t return to her desk. Continuing to walk past, she nudges her head in the direction of the break room, and he stands immediately and follows after her. Luckily there’s no one in there, and she leans against the counter. Her eyes don’t give anything away.

“So?” he inquires.

[Name] almost can’t answer, still feeling the effects of being caught off guard as hard as she had been. It’s like she took a nasty punch to the temple. She’s reeling. She looks down at the folder in her hand, and Liam follows her gaze, and finally she settles for simply holding it out to him. He takes it and opens it, and his eyes widen, much like hers had when she first saw those photographs.

“Someone managed to take a few shots,” she explains. “Jameson wants it on the front page and he wants me to write the article.”

“Oh my god.” It’s the only thing Liam can think to say. He’s too engrossed looking at the pictures.

“You were right, Li. People are asking questions, and it only makes sense they want answers.”

Liam sighs and closes the folder. “The irony of this whole scenario is palpable.”

[Name] hums, one of agreement and disbelief at the predicament she finds herself in, so ridiculous it’s almost silly. “Jameson even gave me a name to use, to help frame a narrative.”

Liam tilts his head, and she reaches in her pocket for the small piece of paper. He unfolds it and a grin overtakes his face as he reads what’s written there, in all capital letters. It mirrors [Name]’s when he looks at her.

———

“Andromeda, huh?”

Peter holds up the newest edition of The Daily Bugle and surveys the large headline on the front, reading Andromeda Emerges from the Shadows! It’s accompanied by a photo of said vigilante.

“Yep.” [Name] walks into the living room after having set her purse in the bedroom. “Jameson came up with it. Said it was because of the way her eyes look. Reminded him of constellations.”

“I have to admit, it’s pretty creative.”

[Name] nods in agreement. “It is. I doubt I could’ve thought of anything that good.” She takes a seat next to him, also observing the front page spread. “Do you think she and Spider-Man would be friends?”

The question is aimless musing, hanging in the air as [Name] leans her head on his shoulder. But it makes Peter think, makes him wonder. Would they be? This Andromeda hadn’t exactly been the talkative type. Perhaps over time she would be. They had already stopped multiple crimes together. Ever since the bank heist, they’d run into each other now and again, and the whole duration of their encounters remained wordless. But there was a sense of respect between the two, and Peter considers it progress.

“Maybe,” he replies, turning his head to lay a quick kiss on [Name]’s head.

Her stomach growls then, and she stands up. “Can we start dinner now?”

Peter chuckles and drops the newspaper onto the coffee table. “Yeah.” He trails behind her, and as they enter the kitchen, he widens his strides until he’s close enough to reach out his arm and wrap it around her waist, pulling her into him.

She lets out a quiet oof! as her back collides with his chest, and she sets one hand on the arm securing her in place. He kisses a trail from her cheek to her neck to her shoulder and she’s giggly and squirmy but with his grip, she isn’t going anywhere.

“Stop!” she breathes out, and it’s interspersed with laughs. He doesn’t stop, grinning against her skin. “I’m hungry!” The last word comes out like a whine when his lips pass over a particularly sensitive patch and she’s caught between laughing and gasping in delight.

Peter finally lets up, and he’s laughing as his arm loosens, allowing her to pull away. She turns to him and shakes her head playfully, gradually regaining her breath. “You’re about to have the best curry of your life,” he states as he walks up to the counter where all the ingredients are laid out.

[Name] stands next to him, assuming the role of assistant chef tonight. “Show me how it’s done then!”

The next time he runs into Andromeda, Peter decides he’ll mention the Daily Bugle article. Maybe then she’ll talk. Even if they don’t become friends, at the very least, they could be partners. Two is better than one. But he doesn’t dwell on these thoughts for long, as another one of [Name]’s laughs fills the kitchen. It makes him smile fondly. There are more important things to focus on right now.

#ps4 peter parker x reader #ps4 spider-man x reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagine #peter parker imagine #ps4 peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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hymn2000 · 5 years

Text

Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C10

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort

Chapter 10 - Try Once More

Peter chatted excitedly to the lady at the till. She talked back to him happily enough, but she did mention to Tony that she’d seen the news, and knew about Kindsprengen and the strange de-aging situation. Tony didn’t say much in response to her comment. He was glad when they’d paid (the damage wasn’t as bad as Loki had expected) and were on their way back to the car.

Loki put Peter into his car seat while Tony unloaded the bags from the trolley into the boot of the car. Finally, it was time to go home.

Loki fed Peter while Tony unloaded the car. The trolley and boot had seemed so incredibly full, but the pile of toys in the living room now seemed to be almost modest. Tony decided to just leave everything for now. Loki would no doubt be putting Peter down for a nap soon, and Tony rather liked that idea himself.

Tony and Loki fell asleep together for much longer than they’d planned. When they finally dragged themselves up off the bed and went to the back room to get Peter, the toddler was already awake. He lay on his back on the futon, clipping and unclipping the shoulder straps of his dungarees.

“Hey kiddo” Tony said. “How are you doing?”

“I couldn’t open the door” Peter said, not looking at them.

“Oh”

“Never mind, chick” Loki said. “Why don’t we go and open all of your new toys?”

Peter jumped up quickly, grabbing his rocket. “New toys!”

“Yes” Loki said, clipping the shoulder strap the boy had left undone. “You’ve got lots of lovely things to play with now. Let’s go and get everything set up”

Tony proved very good at getting things out of their boxes and removing tags and twist ties. Loki was very good at sorting thing out, moving all of the arty kits and such out of the way until he could find a suitable place for them.

“What are you gonna play with, kiddo?” Tony asked, squashing the last cardboard box.

“I want my baby!” Peter said.

“Really? Why not your trains? Or your dinosaurs?”

“BABY!” Peter shouted, picking the doll up and hugging it close against his chest.

“Ok, ok! Whatever. I’m gonna sort these boxes out and stuff” he raised an eyebrow at Loki.

Loki rolled his eyes at him, and helped Peter organise the nursery furniture for his new baby. Peter got bored watching him, but soon discovered the bottle that had come with his baby. It was a simple milk bottle, which, when tipped up, made it look as though the milk had been drunk. He spent a good while tipping it up and down, watching it refill and empty over and over. Loki ruffled his hair. It was good to see him discovering something new.

Peter had a great afternoon playing with all of his new toys. He went between all the different toys and play-sets, playing funny mixed up games between cars and dinosaurs and plastic animals and cuddly toys. He didn’t need his parents playing with him when he had so many new toys to keep him busy. Tony and Loki sat on the sofa talking quietly together.

“Is that my phone or yours?”

Loki checked. “It’s mine. I’ll just be a minute”

Loki stepped out of the room to answer the call. Tony watched Peter, who was setting his Noah’s Ark play set up on the coffee table, lining all the little animals up two by two, his tongue sticking out with concentration. He’d barely looked up from his toys all afternoon. It was quite nice to watch him without having to actually do anything - although he felt slack for thinking it.

Loki came back into the room. “That was Li Allen”

“Oh. What does she want?”

“Well, we should have expected this. She’s seen the news, of course, and she was due a visit anyway, and now she wants one more urgently”

“I see. What did she say?”

“She said everything she wants and needs to ask are better off doing in person. She also asked if we’d taken him to the doctors yet, which we haven’t”

“Do we really have to do that?”

“It’s highly recommended” Loki said. “The dentist is probably a good idea too”

“Ok, ok. I’ll try to get an appointment soon”

“Good” Loki nodded. “Soon, darling. Sweetheart... She’s coming on Friday”

“What?! Loki! Why didn’t you consult me first?!”

“Because it was easier just getting it booked in straight away. We should try to get all of the medical appointments done before Friday”

Tony looked at Peter. “Are we doing the usual thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m the one who always takes Peter to his medi-appointments...”

“Well” Loki looked at the toddler. “If you’re ok with that...”

Tony nodded. “Sure, ok. I’m, uh, I’m gonna step outside and ring our GP and dentist. You know they rush me through sometimes”

“Thank you. You’d better be quick though: it’s starting to get on a little bit”

Tony stood up, getting his phone out. “I’ll do it now. Why don’t you think about what we’re having for tea while I’m busy?”

Loki knelt down by the coffee table while Tony was out of the room.

“What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asked.

“All the animals are going on holiday” Peter said, walking a pair of giraffes up the drawbridge into the ark.

“Oh, how lovely. Where are they going?”

“Antartis”

“Antartis?” Loki repeated. “Do you mean Atlantis? Or Antarctica?”

“Yes”

“I see” Loki ruffled the boys hair. “I’ll leave you to it, snugs”

“No, wait! My animals are thirsty. They need lots of juice”

Loki laughed. “I’ll see what I can do”

Loki fetched a sippy cup of juice for Peter. Tony joined them in the living room once more.

“Appointments are booked. They all seem to understand the situation, which is more of a relief than I expected it to be. It’s kinda good knowing they understand, yknow?”

“Yes, I know” Loki said. “Tony, I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I think maybe I would like to go back to the hospital, just a day or two a week. Half days”

“Oh, ok”

“I won’t though, if you’ve changed your mind about it”

“No, come on, it’s fine. I’m starting to get used to this, I think. I swear the last couple of days have gone on for about a week”

“I knew toddler Peter would need a lot more looking after, but I didn’t realise just how much more looking after he’d need. It’s a whole other kind of difficult” Loki said. “It’s easier in some ways, but not in others”

“Yeah, I get that. But... what, exactly?”

“Well, it’s easier emotionally, I think. Teenager Peter is so mixed up and poorly; he’s been through so much, and he’s got the problems that come with having been through such traumatic events... Toddler Peter doesn’t have those problems. He doesn’t have the outbursts and the nightmares and all of that stuff” Loki said. “How he is now, he’s just a normal toddler. He doesn’t even have his spider powers”

“Yeah, that’s a weird one. I don’t know why he lost them. Or those cuts he had on his forehead just before it happened”

“No, I don’t know either. So, he’s just a normal toddler. I think he’s more difficult physically this way”

“As in?”

“As in, we have to get him dressed and washed and get him up in the morning and run about after him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or anything like that. It’s a very different type of parenting”

“You’re so good at it, though” Tony said. “...He’s not a bad kid”

“No, he’s not. He’s a good little boy. I love him”

Tony quickly changed the subject. “What do you want for tea?”

“I don’t know. Anything”

“Pizza!” Peter said, throwing down a pair of plastic horses and clapping his hands. “Pizza, pizza, pizza!”

“How many slices of Domino’s pizza would a toddler manage?”

“I don’t know. Three? Maybe four?” Loki said. “I’d rather he had something proper, though”

“Make a suggestion, then”

Loki thought for a minute. “I don’t know. Just do something with vegetables”

“You’re not giving me many clues” Tony sighed. “Pizza sounds pretty good, actually”

“I don’t want him have anything too unhealthy” Loki said.

“Darling, he’s always drinking juice, and he had apple slices and carrot sticks with his lunch today. That’s at least three of his five a day right there. Let’s give him a treat. You know you love Domino’s too~”

“Don’t. No, I don’t agree with this”

“Spoilsport” Tony stuck his tongue out at him. “If you don’t have any other suggestions, I’m ordering pizza”

“I WANT PIZZA!” Peter shouted.

“You want to keep your neb out” Loki clipped. “Daddy and I are talking”

“Loki, come on”

“No! I want him to eat properly. Something-”

“How about a compromise?” Tony interrupted. “Pizza for tea, but fruit or a smoothie for pudding?”

Loki frowned. He thought for a moment, sighed, and nodded.

“Fine, but this isn’t going to become a regular thing”

Tony smiled, and got his phone out. Pizza sounded great.

Tony kept to his word, and gave Peter a smoothie and a handful of grapes for pudding after he’d had his pizza.

“Ok, young man, it’s bath time” Loki said after tea, picking him up.

“No! I wanna play!”

“You can play in the bath with all of your ducks and boats” Loki said.

“Do you want a hand?” Tony asked.

“No, you’re fine. Come on, little boy; let’s get you sorted”

On Wednesday morning, Tony woke up with a note beside him.

Tony,

I’ve gone out. It was short notice, sorry about that. See you this evening.

Loki xxx

Tony checked the time. It was just barely half nine. He hauled himself out of bed, pulling his dressing gown on. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair as he went to get Peter.

“Morning, kiddo” he yawned. “What are you doing?”

“My rocket is being held hostage by the monkey”

Tony stared at him for a moment. “...Right. Ok, go and do your teeth, and I’ll get your clothes ready”

“I need a wee”

“Well, have a wee as well, then” Tony said. “Off you go”

Peter got up and went to the bathroom obediently. Tony found him some clean socks and underwear, and dug out a cute little denim romper set, white with little blue whales on it. It was a warm day, and he was going to the doctors today, so Tony thought he may as well wear something nice.

Peter fussed a bit when Tony tried to get him dressed.

“I’ve done my teeth; what more do you want?!”

“You’re definitely your father’s son” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “Stop being so dramatic. Stop wiggling, and let me dress you”

“I’m already dressed!”

“Pyjamas don’t count” Tony said, quickly stripping the boy.

Peter stood shocked for a moment, and then opened his mouth and squawked.

“NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR AT ALL!”

“It’s not raining either” Tony said. “Stay still, or there’ll be trouble”

Peter squawked again, and then went quiet, pouting, and let himself be dressed. Tony straightened his little outfit.

“Oh, sweet” he said. “Where’s that little white sunhat? You’ll look pretty as a picture”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him. Tony stuck his tongue out too. He stood up.

“Do you want breakfast?”

Peter nodded.

“Grab your rocket and come along, then. You’ve got thirty seconds before the offer’s off the table”

Peter quickly freed his rocket from his monkey’s grip, and trotted after Tony.

Tony took Peter with him to his room after breakfast, sitting him on the bed while he had a quick shower and got ready for the day ahead. Peter was quite happy lounging against the pillows and flying his rocket above his head. He did watch Tony when he came back into the bedroom and got dried and dressed and put his sprays on.

“What’s that stuff?”

“It’s just cologne”

“What’s that?”

“It’s basically perfume for men” Tony said. “Do you like it?”

He held his wrist out for Peter to smell. Peter wrinkled his nose.

“Bit strong?”

Peter nodded.

“It gets a bit weaker as it dries” Tony said.

“Can I wear some?”

“Uhh. Hold on, I think I’ve got a vanilla one somewhere” he hunted through his basket of sprays, and found the little vanilla one at the bottom. It was quite dusty from lack of use. “Ok kiddo, you can have a bit of this one, just on your neck”

He tipped Peter’s chin up, and sprayed a little spritzer of the perfume on Peter’s neck.

“There, you smell simply delicious now” Tony said, kissing him on the nose. “Ok, I’m gonna get my shoes on and grab my stuff, and then we’ll sort your bag”

“Do I have to wear shoes as well?”

“Yeah, we’ll stick your little white plimsoll-y type shoes on, and we’ll find that little white hat”

“No! No!!”

“Yes, yes!!” Tony insisted. “You’ll be cute as a button with a coordinated outfit. Ok little kid. Let’s get ready for action!”

“SUPER HERO SUIT UP!”

“Woo! Yes, quick, get all the supplies! We’re leaving for the next mission in ten minutes!” Tony said. “Plimsolls, hat, sippy cup, rocket. Ready, set, go!”

“I’M GO!” Peter shouted, and shot out of the room.

Tony chuckled to himself. It worked every time.

Peter grew upset and distressed once they reached the doctors office. The waiting room was mainly full of elderly people, and many of them made a fuss of Peter with his chubby cheeks and curls. Some of them also wanted to fuss Tony, knowing his work and reputation. Peter didn’t mind at first, but then he started to feel very crowded and closed in, and he started crying.

“Oh dear. Listen, you’re all very charming, but this one needs a little breathing room”

Tony smiled at everyone but spoke firmly enough that they stepped back and gave him some space. He rubbed Peter’s back firmly.

“There now, kiddo. There’s no need to cry”

Peter buried his face in his rocket, and soon went quiet. He leant against Tony’s chest, daydreaming. It wasn’t long before Peter’s name was called.

Tony sat with Peter on his lap in the doctors office.

“So, how are you coping?” Doctor Manning asked.

“We’re getting there” Tony said. “It’s been tricky. It’s the weirdest situation”

“It’s a shame your boy got in the firing line. There’s been a lot of discussion about it in the local medical community”

“We were told we should get him checked. We haven’t noticed anything wrong, but... Well, Loki insisted”

“If you haven’t noticed anything wrong, there might not be anything to find, but we’re taking a look at these children anyway - just to be safe. I’ve not seen any myself, but I know some colleagues who have seen them. So, how has he been? Is he eating properly, drinking plenty? Is he ok in himself?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, Loki’s been real good making sure of that. He’s been fine, I think. I haven’t found any reason to worry. I mean, I’ve worried, but not because he’s seemed ill or anything”

“That’s understandable. Good. Now then” the doctor stood up, and knelt down in front of Tony’s chair. “Hello, Peter. Is it ok if we put you on the bed and have a proper look at you?”

Peter looked up at Tony.

“It’s ok, kiddo” Tony said. “He just needs to check you over”

Peter still didn’t seem sure. Tony stood up and sat the toddler down on the bed.

“There, stay still, kid”

“Ok little one, let’s have a good look at you” Dr Manning said, putting his stethoscope in his ears. “I’m just going to have a little listen to your chest”

Peter wrinkled his nose, but he let him do it. He didn’t fuss when the doctor peered in his ears and shone a light in his eyes.

“Good boy. Now, open your mouth and say ‘aaah’”

Peter did as he was asked, but then squeaked and pushed the doctors hand away when he put a tongue depressor in his mouth.

“Sorry, sweetheart”

“Kid, you don’t push the doctor like that” Tony chided.

“He put a stick in my mouth!” Peter scowled.

“I need to do it, Peter” Dr Manning said.

“Why?”

“It keeps your tongue out of the way so I can see your mouth and throat properly. Shall we try again?”

Peter looked at Tony, who nodded at him. He looked back at the doctor, and opened his mouth. He didn’t fuss this time, but he was still glad when he was done.

“Good boy. Ok, now, do you see this?” he said, bringing out a blood pressure cuff. “I’m going to slip this onto your arm and strap it on like so.. There, now I’m going to squeeze this pump here, and it’s going to hug your arm while I check the dial and listen with my stethoscope. Ok?”

Peter started crying when the cuff tightened on his arm. It was uncomfortable and almost painfully tight.

“I don’t like it!” he cried, trying to pull the cuff off.

Tony grabbed his hand and held him still. “Let the doctor do his job, kiddo”

It felt like hours before the doctor let him go and took the cuff off his arm. Peter cried harder and scrambled into Tony’s arms. He didn’t trust that horrible doctor one bit.

“Oh kid. Come on; there’s nothing to cry about” Tony sighed. He looked at the doctor. “How’s he looking?”

“Everything is perfect so far. I’d just like to check his reflexes”

“Kid, you need to calm down” Tony said. “Just-”

There was a knock at the door, and it opened.

“Apologies for interrupting. Here’s those results you asked for”

Tony stared. “Loki?! What are you doing here?”

Loki glanced down at himself. “Locum work? They needed some cover and asked me”

“Sorry Tony, I didn’t realise he was in, otherwise I would have told you” Dr Manning said, taking the folder from Loki and setting it on the desk. “Good to see you again, Loki”

“Good to see you, doctor. Hello, Peter, darling! Don’t you look cute?” he said, taking Peter from Tony and giving him a cuddle. “What’s the matter, darling?”

“Turns out he’s not a fan of having his blood pressure checked” Tony said.

“Well, you should have known that one, my love” Loki said, kissing Peter on the cheek and shushing him. “Teenage Peter hates it too”

“I forgot”

“How’s he doing?” Loki asked, sitting down on the bed and sitting Peter in his lap.

“Nothing to worry about” the doctor said. “I just need to check his reflexes, have a discussion about vaccines, and then he’ll be good to go”

“Vaccines?” Tony said. “But he’s up to date”

“We’re recommending boosters for those who came under Kindsprengen’s gun. There now, Peter. Now you’ve calmed down, let’s finish your checks”

Peter wiped his eyes and snuggled against Loki. He couldn’t be too scared of the doctor, not when his daddy was there to protect him.

The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with Peter. He let Loki stick around for the rest of the consultation. They got Peter booked in for his booster jabs, and the doctor told them to keep up the good work and to come back if they needed any further advice.

“Aw, I bet you don’t want to go back to work now” Tony said once he was out in the corridor with Loki.

“Not especially, but I’ve got things to do, and I’ll be back by the evening” he said, kissing Peter on the nose. “You be good for daddy, darling”

“We’re going to another doctor” Peter said.

“Is that so?”

“We’re going to the dentist” Tony said.

Loki kissed him and gave him a hug. “Well, good luck. Love you lots. I’ll see you tonight”

Peter didn’t like the dentist, but the dental nurse kept talking to him and making him laugh, so he got through the check up without incident. The dentist said everything looked fine, and Tony was relieved that they could go home without anything to worry about.

“Daddy, I’m hungry” Peter said as Tony strapped him into his car seat.

Tony checked his watch. “Well, it is nearly lunchtime. See if you can hold on for a little bit longer, kiddo. We’ll get you fed real soon... Hold on, how about we go to McDonald’s? Just don’t tell your father”

“McDonald’s!”

“Yeah, let’s go and find a McDonald’s, kiddo. Have a think about what you want to eat”

“McDonald’s!”

“Ok kiddo, sit back now” Tony laughed, shutting the door and climbing into the drivers seat. “Let’s get those cheeseburgers”

Tony decided it would be easier to eat in, but he encountered some autograph hounds as soon as he walked through the doors. Peter didn’t mind Tony talking to them at first, because there were lots of pretty young ladies making a fuss of him as well as his father. It was only when the young ladies moved away and some rather boisterous lads moved in that Peter started getting scared. He wriggled and whimpered, burying his face in Tony’s chest.

“Sorry guys, I’ve got a hungry toddler to get fed” Tony said, flashing them all his trademark smile. “Give us a little space, ok?”

The crowd respectfully parted, leaving Tony free to order and calm Peter down.

“Nuggets or burger, kiddo?”

“Um...” Peter blinked up at him.

“We’ll just get you the same as daddy, then” Tony kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m hungry”

“Yeah, I know. Just hold on a few more minutes”

Peter nuzzled against his rocket and stayed quiet until they were sat down at a table. There, he carefully set his rocket aside and quietly ate his cheeseburger and drank his chocolate milkshake. It was even nicer than he’d expected.

“How’s that treating you, kiddo?”

Peter nodded. “I like cheeseburgers!”

“Me too, kiddo. Aren’t you eating the rest of your chips?”

Peter shook his head. “Too full”

“I’ll finish them for you” Tony said. “What’s your toy?”

Peter picked up the Happy Meal toy, which was still in its plastic wrapper. He looked at it, brows furrowed.

“I don’t know”

Tony took it from him, having a look himself. “I don’t know either. Do you want it?”

Peter shook his head.

“We’ll just leave it here then” Tony said, putting it down on the table. “Finish your milkshake: we’ll have to make a move soon”

“What kind of move?”

“I mean, we’ll go home once you’ve finished”

“Can we go to the park?”

Tony stopped for a moment. “We’ll go home first”

“But can we go to the park?!” Peter persisted.

“We’ll see”

Forty minutes later, with Peter’s football on the front seat, Tony parked up at the park. He got Peter out of the car, tucked the plastic football under his arm, and took Peter’s free hand.

“Probably do us both good, this. Bit of fresh air, bit of exercise” Tony said.

“Why isn’t daddy here?”

“He was at the doctors office, remember? He’s working”

“Oh” Peter said. “Why?”

“Well, because that’s what he does. He’s good at it, and he enjoys it. He’ll be back at home later today” Tony said. “I’m not really so bad, am I?”

“You’re not bad at all!” Peter said, shocked.

Tony chuckled. “Thanks, kid. You’re not bad either”

“I know”

Tony laughed again. “Good. So, why don’t we go and find a good bit of grass so we can play a game together?”

“I wanna feed the ducks!”

“Oh. We don’t have any bread with us kiddo. We can still go and have a look at them though, if you want”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Ducks! Ducks, ducks, ducks, I wanna see the ducks!”

Tony lead him down to the pond. There weren’t many people about, so he let go of Peter’s hand and let him wander about untethered for a little while. Most of the ducks were out in the middle of the pond, but there were a few asleep on the bank.

“Daddy! Look!”

“Aww, aren’t they cute?” Tony said, adjusting Peter’s hat.

“I love them. Can I have a pet duck?”

“No”

“Oh. Why?”

“Because ducks are wild animals: they’re not supposed to live in people’s homes. Unless they live on a farm, I guess” Tony said. “Are you finished round here?”

“No” Peter said. “I wanna walk aaaaaall the way round the whole entire pond!”

“Well, alright. We’ll walk round”

Peter trotted along quite happily, cuddling his rocket against his chest and humming to himself. Tony walked a few steps behind him, admiring his cute little outfit and thinking about everything that had been said at the doctors and dentists.

They walked all round the pond without incident (although Tony had to guide the boy away from the edge a couple of times to stop him falling into the water). They walked on and found a good stretch of empty grass. There they spent a while kicking the ball about before having a game of catch. But then Peter started to get tired, and he started whining. Tony took his hand and tried to head back towards the car, but Peter went all silly and let his legs go limp, refusing to walk.

“What are you playing at? You can’t stay on the floor all day”

“I’m too tired to walk!” Peter whimpered. “I’m too tired!”

“You can go to sleep for a bit when we get home, but first, you need to get to the car”

Peter stayed on the floor, whining and refusing to move.

“You’re getting yourself dirty”

“TIRED!”

Tony sighed heavily, and hoicked the boy up onto his hip. He quietly cursed himself for deciding to leave the buggy at home.

“Stop that squeaking. Hey, careful! You’re gonna drop your rocket”

“No!” Peter shouted, clutching his rocket. “Mine!”

“Yes, so keep hold of it. Let’s get home”

He kissed him on the cheek, and headed back to the car.

It was late afternoon, but Peter had been so grumpy in the car that Tony put him down for a nap anyway. Tony felt refreshed after the walk in the park, so he put his energy into giving the main living areas a good tidy and clean, and then got started on making shortcrust pastry from scratch, deciding to make something a bit different for tea. Loki would be home soon. He wanted him to come back to something nice.

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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brahms--heelshire · 5 years

Text

My Murderous Angel 3/? (USUK)

(A/N): Hope you guys like Francis! He’s going to be important to the plot. :) Let’s all mutually agree to pretend that I stated that they slept for the entire night in chapter two. TWs in this one: vomit, killing, certain religious themes, and a character has hatred for holy stuff.

Once we arrived at what the GPS told me was our destination, I was parked in the driveway of a house. There were flowers in a contained box connected to the front of the house and dumb stickers in the front window.

Arthur got out of the car, so I did, too. He pointed to one of the stickers in the window. It featured two small wings with the caption ‘You’re not alone’.

“This is my friend’s place,” Arthur grumbled, “I didn’t want to drag him into any of this, because he’s not much of a fighter, but if we need someplace to stay, he’s our best bet.”

Arthur rapped on the door, looking at the man inside through the window.

A few moments later, the door was pulled open to reveal a man wearing an unbuttoned shirt.

“Ah, it’s Arthur!” The man said, giving my boyfriend a kiss on both cheeks.

“Yes, Francis. It’s me,” Arthur said, not looking very happy.

“Oh, you haven’t visited in so long! So what brings you to my humble abode?” He glanced over at me. “And who’s that hottie over there?”

“My boyfriend,” Arthur said with a smirk.

The man snorted, laughing loudly. He then took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself. “I’m not sure if you are fucking with me or if you finally found love.”

“I’m Arthur’s boyfriend, for realsies,” I said, snaking my arm around my boyfriend’s waist.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Francis.” The man kissed me on both cheeks. In that moment, I knew that he was either very extra or French, likely both.

He walked into the house, gesturing for us to follow him.

“As for why we’re here,” Arthur said, “It’s kind of an emergency.”

“Does he know?” Francis asked quietly.

Arthur just nodded, a solemn expression on his face.

“Good. I hate wearing shirts.” Francis shrugged the shirt off of himself to reveal wings.

That made two angels who took their shirts off in front of me.

“Why don’t you guys just cut wing holes in your shirts?” I asked as Francis sat on the couch.

“We’re not allowed to show our wings to anyone besides angels, dimwit. That’s how I almost got executed in the middle ages.” Arthur opened one of Francis’s cabinets, pulling canned food out of it.

“That’s how you almost got what?!” I asked. I had guessed that Arthur had a different lifespan than a human, but I assumed that he was just a young angel.

“Oh, it was because you showed your wings? I thought it was because of your strange obsession with witchcraft.” Francis took a bite of an apple that was sitting on his coffee table.

“You might be right,” Arthur mumbled, tapping his chin, “I don’t quite remember.”

“So how do you two know each other?” I asked, feeling strangely protective of Arthur.

“There’s not much good company in Heaven. Everyone has a stick up their arse. Francis wasn’t the most boring person, so we ended up friends.” Arthur shrugged.

“Arthur is pretending to be cool, as always,” Francis said with a smirk, “He practically begged to be my friend.”

“Oh shut up, frog. You pestered me until I let you be my friend.” Arthur slammed the cabinet door shut.

“So how long do you two need to stay. I’ll make you crepes for dinner if you stay long enough. And Arthur, did you say that it was an emergency?” Francis didn’t take breaths between his sentences. I silently wondered how he hadn’t passed out.

“Likely just for the night. Well, it’s not really that bad. Just that a few demons got ahold of me. Alfred and I already killed one, though.” Arthur brushed it off.

“Arthur, that is most definitely an emergency,” Francis said, his face falling, “You can stay here as long as you wish.”

“Thank you,” Arthur replied.

The rest of the day went pretty much the same way as that. Francis was helpful. The crepes he made for dinner were delicious. Staying at his place was nice. It was comfortable, at the very least. Arthur and I slept in the guest room.

When we woke up in the morning, Francis wasn’t home. He left us a note on the table saying that he went out to buy groceries, and he probably wouldn’t be home before we left. It also said that there were three crepes in the fridge for us to take with us.

So we took the crepes and headed off to the next hotel that we had reservations at.

Unluckily for me, on the way, Arthur spotted a bar that piqued his interest. Which meant that I ended up stuck sitting on a bar stool next to my drunk-off-his-ass boyfriend who could barely stand up straight. I ended up having to help him outside without too much complaint. He did vomit a little bit in the parking lot.

“Get it all out before you get into my car, Mister Alcoholic.”

“Shut up. I’m- I’m not even drunk,” Arthur slurred. He then heaved until nothing came out.

“I’m not letting you sit in the front,” I said, opening the back door and laying him across the seats.

“Meanie,” he muttered, sticking his tongue out at me.

I got in the driver’s seat, making sure not to drive too recklessly or jostle Arthur around. I knew that the hotel I had a reservation at was only about twenty minutes away from there. It was dark and the roads were empty.

But a few minutes into the drive, I found a problem. Or I guess a problem found me. Either way, there was a man sitting on the hood of the car. I wouldn’t normally have cared, but he was blocking my view. And then I noticed the horns.

“Holy shit!” I practically shouted.

Arthur did not stir.

That meant I would have to deal with the demon, myself. I took the baseball bat out of the top of my bag and got out of the car, locking the door behind me.

“Why hello, Alfred,” the heavily-accented voice of the demon said.

“Funny. You’re actually trying with greetings. The last demon just,” my voice cracked, “The last demon just tried to kill us.”

“I do not take very much pleasure in killing an old friend,” he said. And then we made eye contact and I tried not to puke.

That was Ivan. We were sorta-friends, sorta-enemies in middle school before he moved back to Russia. I glanced back into the car and mentally cursed Arthur. If we survived, I wouldn’t let him drink another drop of alcohol in his life.

“I’m not letting you into the car,” I said, voice more croaky than it was before.

“And why not? I have nothing against killing that thing, but you could survive. Just give me the keys.” Ivan’s grin only grew wider as he spoke.

“No,” I said.

“Oh!” Ivan let out a laugh that chilled my spine. “You think that it really cares about you.”

“Shut up! Arthur’s my boyfriend. He loves me.”

“Alfred, that thing does not know love. It came from Heaven. Holy things can not love in the Earth way. Holy things can not feel anything for humans. All they feel is a desire to control them. They tell that humans have free will, but tell them that they will be condemned if they make the wrong choice. It’s not your boyfriend. It’s like a house arrest anklet.” Ivan had such scorn in his voice.

“Shut up!” I shut my eyes, swinging the bat. I felt a solid hit and opened my eyes to the sight of my bat melting to Ivan’s face. It looked like those videos where children melt their dolls, but it was real and it was in front of me. And as he fell to the ground, screaming in agony, I felt sick all over again. That was me who did that. I killed him. He was a living being, even if he was a demon. There were tears in my eyes as I watched it happen. I, then, leaned over the side of the road and heaved until there was nothing left in my stomach and I was a crying mess who killed someone. Eventually I went back to the car, taking my lucky baseball bat with me. Despite the skin on it, I needed luck. I needed something to go right for me.

And I drove to the hotel in silence- other than slight snores from Arthur- thinking about what a monster I was.

#usuk #just so everyone knows #I added 'fics' to my links #so if you have trouble finding chapter 1 and 2 or anything #they're both there #tw death #this took longer to write than I had hoped it would

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dropsiaczek-the-smartest-avenger · 5 years

Text

Christmas in the Avengers Tower

Word count: 1798

Warnings: none

(source: antyradio.pl)

It was Christmas and I woke up early on that day. I knew there were still many preparations for the evening’s Christmas Dinner, that’s why I pulled myself together quickly and headed to the kitchen to do what was needed to be done. Wanda and Vision were already there doing some things and Bruce was sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“Morning,” I greeted them.

“Oh, hey (y/n),” Bruce replied. “We made bets who will show up next. Vision won.”

“What a surprise,” I said ironically. “He’s a super high-tech computer so he probably developed an algorithm based on who wakes up and when.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about me like I wasn’t there! Instead of babbling you could better get to work, there is a lot to do.”

I nodded and got on with polishing the tableware. The morning went on painfully slowly and the omnipresent smell of Christmas dishes made the wait for the feast even more difficult.

“The most annoying thing about Christmas Dinner is that everybody wants to eat but nobody wants to prepare it. And you Bruce, since you’re here, you could at least pretend you’re doing something useful,” Wanda broke the silence.

“You guys are doing great, I’d only disturb.”

“Right,” I murmured and approached Bruce with a handful of plates. “Lay them out on the table and when you’re done come back for plates for soup and cutlery. Oh, and try not to break anything.”

Bruce murmured something under his breath and exited the kitchen. When I was done polishing, I went on to preparing sweet potatoes for the mash. We were working in silence until Peter Parker entered the kitchen.

“Well hello there! Why so silent? Let’s turn on some music to add ourselves the spirit!” He exclaimed happily.

I looked at him amused. “Hi spider-boy! I assume you came here to help?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll turn on the radio.”

“I have no idea what we would do without you,” Vision growled slightly annoyed.

Peter turned on the music and came up to me asking if there was anything for him to do. I ordered him to peel and drill apples for the pie and later prepare the mulled wine. So, the work went on, but this time with Christmas tunes coming out of the speakers. When the Italian song Acapulcoby Ricchi&Poveri started to play, Wanda stopped in her tracks.

“Why would they play a summer hit at this time of year?” she asked.

“Actually, the song is not a summer hit. It says that in Italy, when Christmas come, people go to Acapulco to use some sun,” I explained.

“Oh.”

We finished the work around noon, and everyone headed to their rooms to get ready for the evening. The first thing I did was checking if all presents are ready and prepared as they should be – packed and signed. For Thor I got a plaid flannel shirt and hammer-patterned boxers, for Bruce the Jurassic Park trilogy on Blu-ray and a Rubik’s Cube, for Bucky sleeves with fake tattoos and an iPod, for Peter a backpack and a Death Star Lego set, for Nat super-stylish velvet Ray-Ban sunglasses, for Tony a Gameboy and games, for Captain an electric shaver and Metallica’s Black Album, for Sam new running shoes, for Vision a sonic toothbrush, for Wanda a pillow with Vision’s face and a digital photo frame with some pictures of her and Vision I’ve secretly taken, for Clint a GPS locator, for T’Challa new Hawaiian-patterned swimming trunks and for Rhodey a voucher to spa. I even got a gift for the newest Avengers Tower resident, who was Loki, Thor’s brother. I got him an ugly Christmas sweater and the whole series of The Saxon Stories by Bernard Cornwell. Loki was still and outcast among Avengers, they all still remembered how he tried to take over the world. But even so I didn’t want him to be alienated on a day like this.

After checking the presents I moved on to making myself beautiful for the Dinner. I took a shower, washed my hair and applied some stunning make-up. For the occasion I chose a black skirt, an ugly Christmas sweater, similar to the one I bought for Loki and a Santa Claus hat. When I was all set, I took the gifts and headed to the dining room. Almost everyone was already there except for Thor and his brother. I put all presents under the tree and took a place at the table. Soon came Thor and announced that his brother won’t be joining us for the Christmas Dinner. A sigh of relief could be heard, and the atmosphere relaxed a little. I was wondering if I’m the only one who’s not happy about this. Okay, I knew Loki was evil and tricky, but it’s Christmas! Supposedly even animals speak in a human voice on this one special evening.

“Since everyone is finally here, I’d like to wish you all a Merry Christmas and let’s get down to eating!” Tony announced.

“Merry Christmas!” Everyone replied and the sound of chattering cutlery filled the room. There were so many dishes, all so delicious, and I wanted to try them all, but at some point my stomach was so full that I had to take a break.

“Hey, Clint, would you mind pouring me some mulled wine?”

“Sure thing, (y/n),” Clint replied, smiling as he handed me the mug full hot liquid. “Are you done earing?”

“Yes, for now. I’m sooo full,” I said, patting my belly. “I look as if I was pregnant.”

My words made Clint laugh. “I’ve had enough too, shall we get down to presents?”

“No, that would be rude!” I reproached. “We have to wait until everyone finishes eating.”

I liked Clint, he was one of my favourites at the Avengers Tower. Behind a seemingly inaccessible façade he was an incredibly nice and warm guy, a big child really. My second favourite was Peter Parker a.k.a. Spider-boy and he was the one to speak up next. “Can we already move to the presents?” He asked loudly.

“I’m still eating, would you, please, let me finish?” Thor protested.

“You’re always eating, Thor,” Natasha teased. “I’m also voting for the presents.”

Everybody nodded and got up from their places, leaving almighty Thor, the God of Thunder, alone at the table. Unpacking presents gave everyone a lot of joy. Some of them were funny and some really useful. Among many voices I heard Vision saying quietly why would someone get him a toothbrush. I got many books, a set of beanie and gloves a, a t-shirt saying I <3 NYand earrings. After some time the only present under the tree was the one I prepared for Loki.

“Who on Earth would buy a present for this freak?” Sam asked turning the package around in his hands.

“Me.”

“You’re too good, (y/n).”

“Perhaps,” I agreed.

From that moment the atmosphere tensed a little, but everyone went on to their own business. Natasha and Bruce were kissing in the corner, Tony, Clint, Sam and Rhodey got engaged in a drinking contest, Vision and Wanda left, T’Challa and Cap were playing table football and Peter and Bucky started to put the Death Star together. I moved away from the group and sat in front of the glass wall, looking at the city and drinking tea. It was dark and Christmas lights were perfectly visible. The view calmed me down. The glass wall showed the reflection of Thor approaching me.

“Thank you,” He said sitting beside me.

“For what?” I asked.

“That you don’t see my brother as a monster,” The man explained. “He did many things wrong but he’s trying to be good. I wish everyone could see it.”

“Maybe he’s just lost?” I suggested. “You were brothers and best friends when you were young and then he found out he’s not your real brother, that your father took him away from his home planet. Maybe he’s lost his identity and feels he doesn’t belong anywhere? Maybe he did all these dreadful things because he was trying to find his place in the universe?”

“You know, (y/n), you might be right. But everyone’s aversion won’t help him.”

“So talk to him. He needs to understand that fixing his relations with everyone here will take some time, but if he sticks to his decision it will eventually pay off.”

“Thank you,” Thor said and got up to leave. “And thank you for the boxers, they’re wonderful.”

“It wasn’t me, it was the Santa Claus.”

It got really late and I was the only one left in the dining room. I didn’t even realize when everyone left, I was so drowned in my thoughts. I decided to go to sleep too, but first…I took a glance at the lonely package under the Christmas tree. I knew I had to be the one to make the first move, and to get to my room I had to go past Loki’s anyway, so I decided to give him the gift in person. I took the package and headed in the right direction, vigorously at first but as I was getting close I slowed down my pace, losing my initial confidence. What if, in fact, Loki was so evil? I shook of all negative thoughts. He came to the Avengers Tower on his own accord, he must’ve had good intentions.

When I stood at his door I had to fight another battle with myself. And what if he’s asleep and I’ll wake him up and make him angry?And then: No, I have to try!I knocked on the door slightly and held my breath for a few seconds. There was no response. And just when I was about to leave the door opened slightly.

“What do you want?” I heard Loki’s smooth voice.

I turned around to face the door again. “You didn’t join us for the Christmas Dinner and Santa Claus left something for you too,” I said walking back to the door. Loki opened the door some more and I saw he was dressed in black sweatpants only.

“Some kind-hearted creature cared to get me a present. This can’t be. Where’s the trick?” Loki asked suspiciously.

“There is none, I swear,” I promised in a voice just above a whisper.

“Why do you even care?”

“Because I believe you’re not evil, just lost. I bought you a series of books by my favourite author, let me know if you like them.” With these words I turned to leave but stopped after few steps and turned around. “Oh, and Loki, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, (y/n).” Loki whispered and quickly closed the door behind him not to let me see tears forming in his eyes.

@kuroshikine

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thehikingnerd · 3 years

Photo

Day 129. (9/23)

We woke up and broke down and figured we would go back to town and get breakfast and coffee. The first place we stopped in was a really weirdly decorated place with an interesting old lady waiting the tables. We saw the menu and thought it was a touch over priced and decided to just get coffees for a bit and then head to cheap fast food for breakfast and then went to a Jack in the Box. They had outlets there so I charged my batteries while we ate and took our time. I didn't realize how challenging it was to keep batteries full if you didn't rent a room regularly and let it all charge overnight. It was getting frustrating just trying to plug in a few minutes here and there wherever we found an outlet. Eventually, we headed out and started down the right road but we both mapped it out on google maps and saw a much shorter route that would save us like 15 miles at least and we decided that maybe it was good we messed up last night as we would have just gone north on 169. So we took off toward a more direct route that would take us through Cedar Falls. We talked briefly with a guy who suggested we take the railroad tracks to Snoqualmie Pass and that it would save us a lot of time and distance but that we had about a 25% chance of getting caught and in trouble for trespassing. We humored him but didn't take the suggestion seriously. We walked and walked and eventually I found another apple tree and stopped into a grocery and the lady working was from Busan, South Korea and we chatted for a bit. We kept going and finally saw a strange guy walking back and forth on the side of the hwy up ahead. As we got closer we said hi and he asked if we were hiking the trail and we said yes. He was holding a bag and gave it to us and it was full of small grapes that he had grown I believe. He took our picture and asked to make a short video that he wanted to send in to the local news. We said OK but cars kept going by and I'm sure the video was unusable for anything. So he was walking with us back toward his property and the guy was a little weird and he started taking about the Green River Killer (since we were crossing the Green River), and it really kind of creeped us out for this strange man to offer us grapes take our pics and video and then start randomly talking about a local serial killer. He turned left shortly after the river and we kept waking straight. He was nice and the grapes were good and it was a nice thing to do... but a little creeped out we kept joking that he was the real killer and the grapes were poison or that he rubbed them on his balls before giving them to us and he at home now jerking off to our video and thinking of us eating his ball grapes. Your imagination can run with such things out on the trail, lol. It was funny and silly, but probably a little mean since it was probably just a nice gesture and instance of trail magic and nothing more. Anyway... we kept walking until we saw a sign that immediately made us concerned as it said the road ends in 2 miles. But google for sure had us going through this way, so maybe there is a way through. I know google has sent people down roads that no longer exist before, but since we were this close we figured we should go on and see. About a half a mile in we see two guys doing yard work and we ask if there is a way though this direction and he said no. Our hearts sank. In talking to him we found out that the road did in fact go through, but for the last 10 years or so the whole area has been blocked off to protect a water shed for Seattle's drinking water... and that it was a big deal and they had cameras and authorities would be notified if we hopped the gate and ran past the no trespassing signs. He added that it was only like six miles through to the other side and that if we hustled we might make it before they could respond since he said calling the police would take an hour for them to respond for an emergency. So we thought we would check it out and maybe just try and find a way to avoid the camera and sensor and still go though since the walk around would be like another 20 miles or so from where we stood to the other side. We finally got to the gate and it looked legit with real cameras and huge signs and we thought, well damn, we are screwed. Either risk fines and getting arrested or walk a whole extra day to get around the protected watershed area! Can't we just hike the trail? Why does it always have to be so difficult lately? Fuuuuck! So just as we are about to give up and accept that we have to walk around, a wildlife officer pulls out of the gate and I flag him down to try and talk to him. He was first saying they are doing some kind of a charity elk hunt inside that we really don't want to go in with gunfire all over the place. We explain that we are continuous footpath PCT hikers walking around a fire closure and that google maps had screwed us on routing us through here and had no idea this was closed off. Eventually, he slowly changed his tune and saw how we were so frustrated and then finally he busted out a map and started railing on all the ultra liberals in there, he said he doesn't normally rail on liberals, but that "these people would flip out if you piss on a leaf in there." Then he was showed us on his map and basically mapped out a route for us that wouldn't get us caught if we wanted to try and get through. Just as we were talking an SUV pulled up behind him and a younger man with a beard stepped out looking a little arrogant and he walked up and said that if we were PCT hikers we would have to go around and that he would give us a ride if to somewhere if we wanted. The officer chimed in and told him we were continuous footpath people and we wouldn't take an offer for a ride and that we were all discussing the legal walk around. As soon as he left, the wildlife officer was like, "yeah, he is one of those ultra liberals I mentioned." Anyway, we kept asking questions and I took photos of his map so we would have something to go by if we wanted to give this a shot. I mean we had to at least consider it as the officer basically gave us the green light and said that as long as we followed the power lines straight north until we got to a certain road and worked our way east into a pink area on the map around rattlesnake mountain that we would then be in the clear and shouldn't get caught on this route. We said thanks and he took off. We left down the road out of range of the camera and sat down to think out our two options; neither of which sounded good. Finally, we said fuck it and waited till the coast was clear and then hurried up and hopped the barb wire fence. We were ACTUALLY doing this. The paranoia started right away as the fence line backed up to private property and a truck had just pulled in so we waited just a few minute for the people to stop chatting in the driveway and leave again before quickly moving past and into the woods and deeper cover. We walked through some paths that were small and over grown but seemed to be going the direction we needed. At some point, we came to a gravel road that turned and took us straight to the power lines. There was a curvy gravel road that seemed to follow all the way under the power lines which was nice since; I was expecting tall grass and brush the whole way. We took the winding gravel road for a little while until we got to the river that we knew we would have to cross somehow. At first I wanted to just wade through, but seeing a steep hill leading down to the river (which I couldn't even see the water at that point) that looked like blackberry bushes the whole way... made us reconsider this plan. We looked around for other ways down but this stuff was thick and nothing looked like an appealing route, and we didn't even know how big this river was... so we finally decided to walk the road back to a different gravel road and take our chances by crossing the bridge we saw on the map. It was adding at least a mile maybe two by our estimates, but still seemed like the better option. We just knew we needed to be alert and ready to hide if any vehicle were to come down the roads we were walking. All of a sudden we heard something that sounded like it might be a car and it had come up quickly so we ran and jumped off the road into the bushes and waited in silence and on high alert. It only took a second for us to realize that it was a lower flying small plane. We got out and realized we had LTE which we figured would be pretty helpful in terms of GPS since we were just using photos of a map and wasn't sure if we would be able to tell where we actually were. We walked and finally found the bridge, noticing some fresh tire tracks we cautiously and quickly crossed the small road bridge and started back up around the other side toward the power lines again. On the way we startled two large elk and without actually seeing them you could hear the huge animals running off through the woods. We made it back and proceeded to follow the roads that wove in and out but basically followed the power lines north. At one point we came up over a hill under the lines and I jumped back down out of sight because I saw all of these large animals and my first thought was horses and people on horseback. At a second look I could see that they were actually elk, a big group of probably 30 massive elk. We heard one bugle as we made our way around and they watched us as we went. It was starting to get dark and we stopped for a quick snack at an intersection where there was cover near by but a small cleared off area. Taking off now and walking uphill we began to sweat as it was getting dark and colder. We still didn't want to use our head lamps and figured following roads at night shouldn't be too hard and it would give us more time to react if we could see headlights in the distance. We finally made it to a road that the guys said would be paved but it was t paved but was much nicer than the rest so we figured we were on the right road. We would take this to the gate and then follow the fence line north and east until we made our way into the pink section on the map which was open to the public. So we started walking northeast on this road . For quite a while everything seemed chill and quiet and like this would all be easier than we thought... then I heard a sound and I said hold on... we stopped and just caught the slightest sound before light burst from around the corner and we both without thinking or hesitation instinctively just ran and dove into the bushes. We did this impressively quickly and froze. A big ups looking utility kind of truck drove past but didn't stop. After it had gone on for a bit I sat up and looked for Butt'rs who had went Left when I had gone right. I saw him and I looked and him half grinning with excitement and half terrified and said "holy f*ck" we got out and were 10 times more paranoid as on alert as we continued down the street. We were going short distances and stopping to listen for a while before proceeding. This method did seem to work as we heard more vehicles coming shortly thereafter... so we had a bit more time and ran to hide again. This time it looked like a car followed by the saw truck. Were they looking for us, had the truck seen us that first time? We guessed not and just decided to get off of this road as quickly as possible as this seemed to be what would get us caught. We hurried along until we saw some lights, but these were stationary. We thought we must be getting close to the gates and saw a closed off road. It said no trespassing on the front and was probably the road we needed that was right at the gate but t wasn't labeled that we could tell and we still hadn't seen a gate. We assumed it would be something like what we had seen at the other gate with cameras and such, so we wanted to at least find the gate as a point of reference but also it had been such a nerve racking experience over the last few hours that we kind of just wanted the relief of k owing we were on the other side and in the clear. So we kept going but never saw a gate, finally we saw a house... and all of a sudden another vehicle was coming up from behind... we ran again and hid in the edge of the woods, it was a pickup that had gone by and as it went by I saw the headlights hit a sign that said for sale, we obviously had passed out of the closed area and were somewhere on the other side. Google maps helped us to figured out through lots of effort where exactly we were. The problem was that everywhere we tried to go as a no trespassing sign and all the roads were private property and dead ends. We were in a spot that was legal for us to be there but had no legal way to have gotten there, we were kind of trapped in and trespassed on some other roads trying to find a way out. We had a photo of a potentially outdated map, my version of google maps, and Butt'rs version of google maps and none of them matched up. We ended up trying a few routes because two of the three maps had shown one way that should get us out. Turns out they were both either inaccurate or would have us walking straight through someone's driveway hoping it would go all the way through to another road. It was frustrating having wrecked nerves it getting late and nothing working out and all of these attempts were adding miles and we were getting tired. We had at least decided we were legal enough to not have to jump into bushes anymore if a car went by, which one did and nothing happened. It was weird how all the houses here seemed to be for sale. Butt'rs realized that he lost his knife one of the times we jumped in the bushes. Google maps gave us one last route out and it matched the photo of the map on my phone. So this was our last shot and we would try it in the morning, but for now we went around the gate closing that road and went around the corner so no one could see if they drove by and camped in a small flat patch of wet grass. It was 11 something and with only a snack I passed out. It was a cold wet night and we still weren't out of troubles reach just yet.

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