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zorilleerrant · 2 years

Text

The thing about Lazarus pits is that they don’t heal what’s beneficial.

This is why people can go in and come out with their tattoos, piercings, and bottom surgery intact. Medical treatment, too – no one’s grown back their wisdom teeth or had their tubes untied, no one’s lost the pins in their arms or the shunt at the back of their skull. So it’s not a surprise when Jason’s surgical scars, the ones meant to fold him open and piece him back together, the ones sewn closed over the broken Robin’s wing and prayer, never went away.

This is news to Jason, the first time he comes out of the Pit. Of course, everything is news to Jason in those early days, just come back to his senses and trying to fit back together the disjoint memories of his old life and the fog of a lifetime that belonged to someone else, after he came back but before he returned, trying to figure out what does and doesn’t make him Jason. So, yes, the scars are new. Everything is new.

It’s a while before he gets ahold of himself. While he’s busy doing that, every single scar feels like a mistake, and half the time he’s not sure whether it’s his or someone else’s. Then, for a while, he wears his scars like badges of honor, terrifying and impressing in turns, and that doesn’t quite feel real, either.

He comes home, eventually. Jason comes home eventually, and he walks into his old room in his old house, and looks around like he knows where he is, and spends the night there. He flees before morning. He can’t be who he was, no matter how much everyone expects him to be. No matter how much he expected himself to be, moments before walking in the door, as if everything that came between could be cast aside. Put away in a neat little box.

He doesn’t spend any time around the family for a while, after that.

It’s just that – and this never bothered him before – when he looks in the mirror? He can’t even look at his hair where he doesn’t always manage to dye that streak away, where he looks his death in the face every morning and tries to laugh. Because now it’s caught on that Y-incision that adorns his chest that he never really thought about, because why would he?

He died. He knew that. He died and Dick found a new brother to actually love. He died and Tim wormed his way into a legacy that Jason built. He died and Alfred cleaned all traces of him from the house, as if he’d never been there. He died and Bruce didn’t change anything, just kept going the way he had with Jason by his side. As if he hadn’t even noticed Jason was gone.

And he did notice. He noticed. Jason knows that, even on the days he doesn’t believe it, but the thing is. That means that. Well. He died. He died and Dick lost his mind hoping to make it right with the family and the villains and the universe. He died and Tim tried desperately to fill that vacuum so Gotham didn’t die with him. He died and Alfred wept in an empty kitchen, unable to make dinner for another night in a row. He died and Bruce held fast to Batman, refusing to be sundered from one last tie to Jason, to let murder take every part of him.

Jason knows. It’s just that the bridge between what happened where Jason was and where Jason wasn’t is a step too much for him to take, and he can’t see his own death anymore. Just the holes it left in everyone else’s lives.

Jason knows, also, that this isn’t an autopsy scar. There would have been no reason for it. Bruce knew what happened almost as well as Jason does. But clear as he can see his own grave whenever his eyes clench shut, he can see Bruce’s hands, methodical and without the slightest tremor, cataloguing every cut and scrape and bruise. Marking down on his little paper chart where every single injury lies. Scraping blood and dirt and desperation out from under Jason’s fingernails, and then, only then, turning to his neat and shining tray and liberating a scalpel.

Jason can see his father pulling open his chest, folding him apart like a Viking failing one last test, because oh, how he would’ve screamed. It’s backwards, here; he’s lying down, unrestrained, as his bones are pried apart, and he’s ever silent, no chance of ever slipping up. Bruce’s golden child, perfect one last time. He would’ve screamed if he could.

There was no autopsy. There was no need. And still, Jason can see his father weighing organs with perfect clarity, his heart cradled in gentle, calloused hands. He can see, too, Bruce closing him back up again, looping stitch after careful stitch, a perfect, delicate Y like the one forming on his father’s lips as he blinks back tears.

It was never for his death to impart any meaning. It was after his life returned to him, to keep it there; this is the mark of a beginning and not the ending of things. And still. All he can ever picture is what another missing link does to a family. At least, when he looks at his hair, he can remember the pain of knowing the rest of the chain was out there, waiting for him to find them again. That scar begins to mean life. Clawing his way back into it, yes, but.

He clawed his way up and out once. Hands to guide him, hands to heal, and they leave him with something ugly. Not his own mortality, but his family’s grief confronts him every time he tries to assess how he’s changed. How he’s grown. He clawed his way up and out again and again finding his way back here. But the mark of his rescuers might drown him.

#look i said something #my writing #fanfic #batman #batfam #jason todd #gore tw #I commented an ao3 link if anyone prefers that

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random-fandom1 · 3 years

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Pepper thought it was good idea to go away for a few days. A few days away to herself, she deserved it right? Not much could go wrong, could it?

Well, let's just say you can't underestimate the avengers...

- ⴵ -

Day 1 of Peppers absence

Most of the over 30 year olds (minus Clint and Scott) were doing their own thing. Tony and Bruce were inside their labs doing their thing, Natasha, Steve, Sam and Bucky were sparring in the training rooms, and the rest of them were doing their own adulty things. They were sticking to their own routines, because why would they have to change them? Its not like Peppers absence was to make them less 'mature'

That left a majority the under 30s (with the addition of Clint and Scott and minus Bucky, Loki and Valkyrie) to run wild. The loss of the mature adults meant they could go free. Peter, Yelena, Shuri and Wanda had a spa day. They all took turns painting eachothers nails, doing the others hair and just full out pampering eachother. Scott, Clint, Pietro and Carol looked on in disgust because that's so girly, right? Well that's what they thought until they were dragged into the action as well. Scott and Pietro were enjoying themselves as well after 20 minutes but Clint and Carol despised it. For this reason, they came out looking like Barbie dolls. All pink makeup, bows, frills. Blackmail pictures were taken.

They all got together at 5, Bucky and Loki cooked dinner for them all (The famous Gigi Hadid vodka Pasta) and they all watched Star Wars before going to bed.

- ⍟ -

Day 2 of Peppers absence

Peace didn't stay for long. It lasted a day.

It all started at 6am the next morning when Peter and Bucky were awoken from their sleep, entangled in one another, soaken wet. Clint quickly retreated back into his vent, not fast enough for the two enhanced not to spot him. That was how the prank war began.

Next Vision gave Wanda one of her favourite flowers, which then proceeded to spray her in the face

Shuri and Val replaced Steve's shampoo with lime green hair dye (Tony said he was his big leprechaun)

Yelena turned the water to freezing cold when Natasha was having a shower

Teams were made by 10am. It was almost the same divide as yesterday. Peter, Bucky, Shuri, Val, Carole, Scott, Yelena, Wanda, Loki, Pietro and Sam made one team. They called themselves the Young Avengers. The other team consisted of Steve, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Vision, a reluctant Bruce, Thor, Dr Strange and Nebula.

To say it was a mess was an understatement. By the end of the day the training centres were covered in water from a water balloon fight that went on around 12, Stonys bedroom had been filled with balloons, Yelena had managed to vandalise Clints secret tunnels, Natasha had in turn played an audio recording of Yelena having a pretend interview with herself in the shower around the compound. Bucky, Sam and Peter had covered Thor in honey and then put feathers on him. Loki then enchanted him to run round like a chicken for 2 hours. Tony had locked Pietro in heavy shoes, stopping him from running away and dyed his hair neon pink. Peter had posted embarrassing videos of the other team That wasn't even half of what happened.

They called a truce around 11pm, not before Nebula had managed to fill Scott's room with Baskin Robins uniforms

- ᗢ -

Day 3 of Peppers absence

Day 3 was just, surprisingly, wholesome. Everyone was recovering from last days war and decided to just order a shit ton of food and relax. Tony didn't even go to the lab! They all cuddled up on the couch and watched movies all day.

Tony and Steve were on one couch, Bruce and Thor were on another, and Wanda and Vision were on another showing little PDA. But on the other side of the room, Peter and Bucky as well as MJ and Shuri were sprawled across two differnet couches, showing off quite alot of PDA. Close to an unbearable amount of it. Peter was sat on Buckys lap, mouthing at his neck like a baby and Bucky was running his hands all over his body in a slow, gentle manner. It wasnt a sexual thing (Peter would be mortified to do that with his parents and family sitting right there), ot was more of a cmofort thing. MJ and Shuri had no shame. None. They were full on making out. It made nearly everyone around them uncomfortable.

Nether the less, the day was spent eating junk food, having a Harry Potter marathon (Peter tried to suggest Star Wars but was quickly shut down by nearly everyone else). Of course by the end of the day, the place was a tip. Pizza boxes scattered around the room, popcorn all over the couches from Sam and Buckys popcorn fight, pillows turned upside down and a huge pillow fort made by Yelena, Shuri and Peter around the middle of Goblet of Fire. Missing the only mature mature adults, they left it as it was and retired atthe end of DHPt2.

- ⎈ -

Day 4 of Peppers absence

The day before Pepper was to return was havoc.

To start it off, they had no food. None. Pepper normally ordered all the food on the large whiteboard in the kitchen every 2 weeks, and now with her gone, no one actually placed it. Steve and Natasha had to run to the grocery store in the morning, leaving hungry hero's with high metabolisms to get cranky. They ended up getting only 2 boxes of cereal and a loaf of bread. For 20+ people. For a whole day.

Second of all, no one actually stuck to their bed time for the past few nights. It started off with Shuri snapping at Peter, Peter snapping at Bucky, Bucky snapping at both Sam and Steve, so on and so fourth. Eventually everyone ended up as cranky as the last person. Silence surrounded the compound as everyone migrated to their own spot to calm down. It was so quite that you could hear Clints terrified screams from the kitchen as he tried to disturb a sleeping Peter, who was in his own made cobweb in the corner.

Third, when a majority of people calmed down, the power went out. Not even the back up worked. Turns out no one checked the battery so it blew. Tony and Bruce were there for 3 hours trying to fix it while the rest of the avengers played board games in the main room.

Things were falling apart

- ⎊ -

Day 5 of Peppers absence

Today's the day Peppers meant to be coming back, but her flight got delayed due to weather and she wouldn't be back until late that night. This left another day for the avengers to slowly lose their minds.

It started off like Day 1, until it hit 12pm. Thats when Natasha called them all to living room and demanded a games night. A party nighy where they all get drunk and party like teenagers

It started off with never have i ever, and oh did some things come out, especially about the baby spider of the group. When Tony asked if anyone had ever done the dirty in front of their family/friends, a very embarrassed Peter and a wolfishly grinning Bucky took a shot

Next day played truth or dare. This led to a hot makeout session between Scott and Sam, a half naked Steve and a head standing Vision.

Then it just went downhill at around 6pm. A drunken group of earth's mightiest hero's was just getting started, and by 9pm, they were fucking hammered.

That's how Pepper found them.

Vision was still spinning on his head to the beat of the music in the corner; Loki, Natasha, Tony and Clint were taken shots at the bar; Yelena and Peter were twerking on the coffee table with Bucky, Sam and Shuri cheering from under them, Bucky laying the occasionally slap to Peters arse; Bruce was writing furiously in a notebook; Steve was having a heart to heart with Wanda, both of them crying about how much they lived their families; Thor was of course munching on his emergency poptarts as they still hadn't gotten their food delivery; Pietro was running around Valkyrie so fast that it hurt to look at; and Dr Strange and Nebula were no where to be found

Pepper just slowly backed out of the room, wondering if the plane had gone back to the airport yet

#peter parker #winterspider #bucky barnes #tony stark #superfamily #avengers #steve rogers #marvel #cute #bucky x peter #shuri #mj #scott lang #clint barton #thor #pepper potts #pepper goes away for a few days #everything goes to shit

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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sweeter than honey (redux)

Pepper Potts did not exactly mean to become a criminal. Really, she still doesn’t think she is.

But here are the facts:

1.) She has broken several laws in pursuit of funds that do not belong to her.

2.) The FBI would like to talk to her about several things and potentially put her under arrest.

3.) She can no longer go to her regular coffee shop because the barista snitched and told them her name, as well as her occupation.

Pepper broke several laws because the company she was working for (Stane International) was technically breaking laws, but laws that do not apply to corporations because corporations do this thing called “funding campaigns” and also sometimes “doing favors.”

She decided to do the same and suddenly she is a criminal. Not her fault she redistributed money back into the community, and now they can’t get any of it back.

It’s just how that worked out.

She’s been staying at a hotel that serves many questionable individuals each month, and it has an indoor pool and a three-star rating on the latest travel website.

It’s nondescript, not her style, and she’s currently in the bathroom having a crisis because she most likely needs to dye her hair.

She’s vain. Pepper knows she is, has known it since high school when she trimmed her hair and cried. Her hair, by all accounts, is gorgeous. It’s a shiny strawberry-blonde that makes her look like an ice queen in winter and a mysterious fairy queen in summer.

She does not want to dye it. But here she is with an eight dollar box of dye and thoughts in her head.

And then her hotel door opens.

Not supposed to do that, but that’s what happens when you’re in a three-star hotel.

She is also in old athletic shorts that have most definitely seen better days and a tank top that was a last-minute buy from the nearest store, and it does not suit her at all.

Facing her is a man with an odd beard, tinted sunglasses, and a graphic t-shirt over a blazer.

“So. You pissed off Stane Industries,” he drawls. “I’m impressed. Usually they just sweep their little problems under the rug.”

“I’ll sweep you under one if you’d like,” Pepper offers, wondering how quickly a blowdryer can knock someone out. She’s not sure how well-made the hotel one is. Probably not very.

“I’m not here to kill you,” the man says. He takes off his sunglasses. His eyes are a nice shade of brown, not that you’re supposed to notice that about a potential enemy. Pepper is just that skilled.

“Then what are you here to do? Make me move to Florida?”

“No, the opposite. We’re staying here. I’m offering you a job position of helping me take down Obadiah Stane and the company itself.”

“Who would I be working with?”

“Anthony Stark.”

Pepper stills.

She read the news when she was in college, same time as Tony Stark. Went missing in the car crash, no one found his body. Temperatures were freezing, he was wearing a tuxedo. The chances were that he froze to death somewhere that they didn’t find yet.

Chances were. What an odd little phrase.

“So, you made it out.”

“Not as hard as people say it seems to be, Virginia.”

“Call me Pepper, my first name disgusts me.”

“Gotcha, Pepper. Call me Tony. You in?”

“Obviously. What do I need to do?”

“Meet the team.”

There is Rhodey, who was Tony’s best friend and sobbed on national television for two weeks until they forgot all about him.

“He’ll cry at anything,” Tony says with a laugh as Rhodey sends him a dirty look. “Just made him think about neon shoes and he bawled like a baby.”

“I did not,” Rhodey hisses. “I was a good crier.”

“You looked like a seal,” Pepper intervenes. “But you played the part quite well. Nice to meet you.”

“Right back at you, Pepper.”

She meets Happy, a man who is all serious and grumpy and “did not want to break the law before forty” but he also gets to watch Downton Abbey whenever he wants, so he’s not doing too bad.

He runs security and also tells Rhodey and Tony when they’re banned from ordering pizza all the time, and Pepper is inducted into the Healthy Eating Committee.

There’s Bruce Banner, who enjoys taking over corporations for fun, and this is his second one. His first was some sort of health insurance scam, and apparently that was just to finish up his thesis for his third doctorate.

“He has seven degrees, he’s weird,” Tony says.

“Oh like you’re any better,” Bruce says with a snort. “You learned twelve languages for fun. Including French, which is useless.”

“French is not useless,” Tony says. “It got us free food in Canada.”

“We would’ve gotten it anyway if we’d done it my way.”

“Stealing?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes!”

Pepper laughs.

Their job is a bit easier than anticipated. They found out from Pepper that getting into the building is stupid easy because no one likes their job and will do anything when bribed.

Tony struts in with a badly-made-employee-ID and talks about a copying machine and coffee and seeing someone next month for dinner. Pepper just keeps her head down and pretends like she’s meeting someone for something. Like usual.

Obadiah Stane is out of the country on a meeting, and his secretary is scared to death of him, so they’re allowed to poke around the office and find some interesting information.

The problem comes when someone recognizes Bruce outside (government watchlists: the most pesky things on earth) and suddenly there’s this huge fuss.

Tony pushes Pepper into an office closet and then promptly asks her if anyone opens the door, if she’s alright with him kissing her.

“Why would you do that?”

“People don’t like watching kissing, too intimate. Also, you have a lovely face and you’re quite funny, and I think it’d be fun and delightful to kiss you.”

“How long have you thought about that?”

“Not going to talk about that, just want an answer. If you say no--and feel free to, there’s no obligation in physical contact right now--it does complicate plans A to D. I suppose we could play the divorced couple route, but I’m not a gigantic fan about that.”

“I mean, I guess? It wouldn’t be bad, and I’m not exactly opposed to it, Would it mean anything later?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Let’s figure that out after we do it.”

“If we need to do it.”

Door swings open.

Oh, there’s a need.

Tony is a particularly nice kisser, Pepper thinks. The thought runs through her head that she’s only kissed two people before Tony, and one was in high school so that doesn’t count, but the other was a secretary at an old company she used to work for.

But Tony is nice. Soft and warm and he grabs her waist and that’s nice.

“Oh my god, sorry,” the employee mutters. “I just, I thought--”

“Occupied!” Tony says, not even stopping as he kicks out his leg and practically stomps the poor other guy in the stomach.

They get out, run, and Pepper laughs as she sees a bit of pink lipstick on the side of Tony’s mouth.

“So, how’d I do?”

“Send me a survey,” Pepper remarks. “Or a ranking.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Seven.”

“I was that bad?”

“How do you rank things? Do you put one as the best?”

“Obviously.”

“No, you’re an idiot. One is always the worst. You’re a nine. It would’ve been higher but we were in a corporate office and in a supply closet.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’ll have to try again?”

“Preferably over a couple glasses of wine and pizza. The good kind, though. Not the garbage Rhodey orders.”

They approach the car that Happy has, with Rhodey and Bruce already leading others on a goose chase.

“You two have too much fun,” Happy mutters. “Boss, you got lipstick on your side. Did you get the drives?”

“Transferred and set to release to every major news outlet tomorrow morning at six a.m.,” Tony says. “Interns are going to curse my name as they’re forced to rewrite articles.”

Pepper smiles.

That night, they have a couple of glasses of wine and Tony orders the good pizza, the kind that costs a little bit too much for what it is, but it’s all worth it in the end.

When Tony takes over the company after about six months of legal battles that would probably have drawn on for well over a decade if not for the fact that Tony is one of the most in-your-face-let’s-talk men she’s ever met, Pepper was kind of expecting things to slow down.

Of course not. That’s not her style nor is it Tony’s, although arguably a vacation or a nice spa day would have been nice beforehand.

“We have shit to do,” Tony says. “Rhodey, you need to help me revamp R&D. Pepper, I need to talk to you in the office.”

They’ve already hired a company to completely redesign the entire building and refocus the company’s outlook, starting with getting rid of the disgusting 1970s carpet and chairs. God, it’s ugly. Pepper cried when she saw the office chairs.

But she’s in Tony’s office, and she’s wondering if this is going to be directly related to workplace relationships or not. She’s already prepared an argument as to why she still wants a relationship and just how much professionalism she can exhibit in the face of hardship.

(That hardship being the fact that Tony looks quite good in suits but also has arms that are made for tank tops.)

“I have a problem with you,” Tony says. “And it’s that I want to make you CEO, but I don’t want people to think that you got it just because we’re dating. So we have an issue to cross.”

Pepper was not expecting this. She was expecting maybe head accountant, or head of the PR team. But CEO? That was something that was...wow. Pepper had had a fifteen year plan for working up from wherever it was that she would be at.

She also didn’t know they were dating.

“We’re dating?”

“Did I read the kiss wrong? Oh shit, was the seven secretly the bad seven?”

“No!” Pepper says. “You just never told me that we were dating, we didn’t have a communicative conversation about it.”

“Oh. Well, would you like to go on dates and things?”

“What’s ‘and things’?”

“You know. Sexy times. But I wanted to be a professional about it. But I am not that professional.”

“No, no you’re not. Which is why you offered me the CEO position and why I am accepting it. But I will also date you...and things.”

“Excellent. Have a dinner tonight while we discuss how to do Microsoft Excel?”

“I already know how to use it.”

“Pepper, you are the only woman for me in this lifetime and the next.”

“And the one after that?”

“I’m assuming you’ll get bored of me and marry someone who’s seven feet tall.”

“Seven feet tall? What, am I going to attend every NBA game for the next husband?”

“Maybe, I don’t know what you’ll do. I’ll probably be halfway into a grave over despair.”

Pepper chuckles, dropping a short kiss onto his temple.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to witness that. You want me to make some salad for tonight then?”

“Yes please! We also need to review the decor and see what chairs to order.”

Pepper nods.

“We need to ask Rhodey, he has opinions about design of those.”

“Of course he does, he hates standing too long. We’ll send him some of our options.”

She waves as she leaves the office.

What Tony misses:

Pepper pumps her fist as she leaves the office, nearly stumbles, and is quite glad that no security cameras were installed that day.

What Pepper misses:

Tony spins so hard in his office chair as a celebration that it topples over.

Yeah, they’re made for each other.

#pepperony #tony stark #pepper potts #love this one #i love writing pepper and i don't do enough of it #i really like it when it's clear that they both love each other #bc with a lot of fics it's like pepper being like 'well i guess :/' or she's cool about it #BUT I WANT PEPPER TO BE A NERD!#rhodey #lovelyirony writes

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! I hope I’m not too late for the shipping event! Could I request a MCU ship with the extra choice of parent?

My name is Sara and I’m a 26 yo. She/her. Bisexual. I’m 6 foot tall and usually dye my hair pink or purple. I’m reserved when meeting people but my impulsive Aries side blooms once I’m comfortable.

My likes include movies and reading, fall weather and anything paranormal. Dislikes: summer (I sunburn if I think about the sun), people who nitpick my process of doing things, early mornings (unless I have a dog show). My main hobby is training dogs for shows and I also work as a professional dog trainer specializing in behavior modification of severe behaviors such as aggression.

Thank you for your time and congratulations!

thank you love!!

s/o: wanda maximoff and you always got along and you always made her day brighter, brought a smile to her face. you weren’t so much of an avenger, but life had brought you into their home and maybe it wasn’t so bad having a normal person at HQ. you made wanda feel normal and she made you feel loved.

enemy: tony stark was the closest thing that you had to an enemy. he was just kind of annoying to you, every time you crossed paths he made some snide comment that just really bothered you.

best friend: sam wilson and you got along nicely, you always knew you could count on him for anything, even if it was just keeping you company or encouraging you before a show. sam actually loved helping you out with those, mostly because he liked seeing all the dogs but he was proud of you too.

parent: bruce banner just wanted to give you a normal life, but all that changed after the accident. and it didn’t help after he disappeared off of the face of the earth, leaving you no one but the avengers. not exactly a normal path, but it was welcome nonetheless. he was a good dad, just had some really bad luck and he wanted to be better.

#babydontherdme #ask #shipping event #4k event

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.1

Of War and Peace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: Steve Rogers always has been a bit of a mystery – always polite, with a little bit of foot-in-mouth syndrome, unbelievingly kind and definitely good-looking – but a mystery anyway. He treated you differently from his friends. Why?

You would never expect the ongoing prank war between Bucky and Sam to shed light on the matter.Of course, Tony Stark is also to blame. Whenever he isn’t? You are his assistant – you would know.

Warnings: silly pranks, blackout, attempt at humour, swearing… fluff and way too shy Steve

A/N: Loosely based on a request from AO3 from Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers: awkward flirtatious Steve and Tony’s-Assistant!Reader, Sam-Bucky prank war and a power-cut. Whole request in the notes under the first chapter.

Sam Wilson was a brave man, you thought.

An undoubtedly handsome, considerably capable, loyal to a fault, but first of all, an incredibly brave man.

That was the only logical explanation of him declaring a prank war to James Buchannan Barnes; and it started by the Falcon himself reminding everyone who followed his Twitter that Bucky’s middle name was indeed Buchannan and he loved to be called that.

The truth was that calling Bucky that name was bordering with dangerous. Pulling out a stunt like Sam had, now that was like singing up his own death sentence.

“Wilsoooon!” Bucky howled through the corridors and you jumped in your seat before smirking into your second cup of coffee that day.

You wondered what Sam had done this time. Ever since the first Twitter event, both Sam and Bucky were stepping up their game.

Social media pranks. Sugar-salt switching. Soaped door handles. Hair dye in shampoo. Itching powder. Glue on a mug. You name it.

They were like infants. Worse even. As if the Tower needed more men-children in it. As if Tony wasn’t enough.

Now, Tony Stark was a brilliant man; distracted, sarcastic, a maniacal scientist and a hero, whom you were honoured to call your boss. Except Pepper Potts was the one in charge, pulling the strings and hiring you after she had become the CEO of Stark Industries, because she could no longer be his assistant.

Because Tony Stark was a genius of a man-child who needed constant supervision. He needed a girl Friday and F.R.I.D.A.Y. sometimes wasn’t enough. Enter you. A glorious secretary with an engineering degree and enough patience to deal with him. Hand-picked by Virginia Potts herself, sometimes being chosen to go to a meeting with her to represent Tony’s intentions rather than him, since you were less likely to piss people off, being able to keep cockiness in check.

But damn, weren’t you proud.

Your train of thought was cut short as the former Winter Soldier strode into the communal kitchen with a stormy look on his face and sneezed on its way; four times. Loudly.

Your face twisted in sympathy.

“Haven’t seen him,” you answered before Bucky could collect himself enough to ask.

Another wall-shaking sneeze was his response.

Now that one was just cruel; as far as you knew, supersoldiers couldn’t get sick. So it was just the sneezing itself, whatever it was caused by. Still, you guessed it must have been horrible to go through that after so many years of blissful germ-freedom. Honestly, if you sneezed like after seven decades, you’d lose your shit. Why did it feel like your lungs were about to leave your body through your nose at the mere thought of it? Scary shit, alright.

Bucky growled and stalked away. Not before he nodded in thanks.

He left the room with another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you muttered under your breath and eyed your tablet.

Tony was asleep as he had stayed awake until two a.m. working on the newest upgrade for the security of the Tower, so technically, you had time to enjoy your coffee in relative peace.

Naturally, peace was a short supply in the Tower, the home to the Avengers.

When Pepper had first offered you to simply move in since you spent the most of your time there, you had been reluctant. It had only been a week in and while you met some of the team members, finding out they were far less intimidating than they presented themselves to the press, it sounded… overwhelming to stay there 24/7. However, you had been quickly persuaded after you nearly passed out, because your sleep schedule was a mess, consisting of either passing out on the couch in the Tower or making it home only to fall asleep before your head hit the pillow, and being woken up by an urgent call from the Ironman himself two hours later.

Living in the Tower had its downsides and its upsides.

Downside was that it rarely got quiet and it was the perfect target for any supervillain as it had all of the Earth’s mightiest heroes in one place. Constant supervision from an artificial intelligence was as reassuring as concerning.

As for the upsides… you hadn’t expected to actually… befriend the Avengers. You certainly wouldn’t guess that once Natasha Romanoff warmed up to you, she was a great friend, a female element alongside Pepper that the Tower and the team sorely needed. The times you bonded over the aforementioned men-children were one of the best in your life.

Clint was a lot of fun, though you had soon adopted the habit of making a pot of coffee just for him, since you were usually the one to get up from bed before him and talking to him pre-coffee was the risk equivalent to touching Sam’s snacks.

Bruce… kept for himself a lot. But when he came out of his shell, either liberated by alcohol or when discussing science with Tony, he would radiate an aura anyone would be happy to bask in.

Sam was the ray of sunshine, gentle with a lot of fun stacked behind the chocolate eyes of his, but once he got into the same room and Bucky… oh boy.

The silently charming grumpy supersoldier added to the team in a way you wouldn’t see coming – perfectly. Except that he and Sam were always in each other’s hair. Always bickering; one that sometimes resulted in a war. Occasionally funny; other times utterly annoying. Rright now, you felt like it was something in between.

“Good morning,” sounded pleasantly from the door, where the last member of the peculiar household stood, seemingly hesitant.

Oh. Steve Rogers. That was right. Your biggest guilty pleasure. That man was a pure eye-candy, a body perfected by the serum only to protect the great man hiding in it. You didn’t have many opportunities to truly know him; but whenever you saw him, he had an air around him, greatness and kindness, yet somehow fogged by modesty.

At times, he appeared sheepish almost, but always polite. To you anyway. His friends were a different story; it saddened you occasionally, that he didn’t consider you a friend, not really giving you a chance, treating you differently. You suspected it was because you weren’t a fighter; while assisting Tony nearly 24/7, it was obvious that the billionaire tried his best to keep you away from the danger zone as much as possible.

The arms-long distance Steve Rogers kept you at was causing you a heart-ache at times, yet you had a feeling he didn’t have any particular dislike for you; only that he treated you differently. Always polite. Always a pleasant interaction.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his usual running outfit and tousled hair giving away he was coming back from his everyday morning routine of what was probably like thirty miles or something.

“Good morning, Steve. Had a nice run?”

Looking himself up, slightly guiltily, he scratched the back of his neck. It occurred to you that he was embarrassed at not being the most cleaned-up version of himself in front of you – a woman –, which you found adorable. His forties-man was showing.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Did you… sleep well?” he queried, shifting by the door.

“Yes, actually… are you going to stand there all day?” you teased him lightly and the corners of his lips twitched as his gaze fell to the floor, his shoulder finally bouncing off the door-frame.

“I just didn’t want to disturb your moment of peace…”

Your chest felt warmer at such admission. What a sweet thought.

“That is very kind of you,” you praised him as he gestured to the coffee pot, checking with you if it was for everyone’s use. You nodded and chuckled at the tinniest flaw in his thoughtfulness. “Except you were beaten about a minute and half by a much grumpier and louder supersoldier.”

Steve groaned and leaned onto the counter. “Let me guess: Sam proceeded with another prank.”

You made a finger gun at him, grinning. “Exactly. I don’t know how he did it, but I don’t think I ever heard a person sneeze that loud. And that often. Poor Bucky.”

“Bucky brought this upon himself. He deserves it,” Steve grumbled, sipping at the coffee, his eyelids sliding shut blissfully. You were pretty sure that something resembling a moan resonated in his chest, which… didn’t do a thing to you. Didn’t bring thoughts that were not about caffeinated beverages, but something slightly dirtier. Nope. Nothing. Like… at all.

You stood up from you stool and gathered your stuff, ignoring the way your heart suddenly sped up.

“Well, I just hope we can all keep sane before this particular battle of their war is over,” you hummed, every word honest and hopeful. “These two might bring the Tower down. As if Tony wasn’t enough…”

“Very true. I’ll try and keep an eye on them… try,” he emphasized when your nose scrunched with a bit of doubt and you made a so-so motion with your free hand.

“Bold move. I hope you don’t get caught in the middle. Though I’m sure you could pull the blue-hair look unlike Bucky…”

Why did I just say that?

Smiling softly into his cup despite his eyes going wide in horror, he took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eye. The brightness of his irises had your breath caught in your chest.

“So am I. You… uhm, you look beautiful today, by the way,” he complimented you sweetly, his gaze swiftly glancing over your outfit and casual hairstyle. And for a good reason; having to assist Pepper on a meeting today, you had been chosen to wear a pink ladies suit and a white shirt. You had expected to look like a ridiculous copy of cotton candy – you had not anticipated to… actually look presentable. Feminine even. You.

Your cheeks matched the colours of your jacket at the praise; Steve’s shoulders straightened.

“I meant… not that you usually don’t. I was… uhm, I like the… the look on you. The one you have today,” he stumbled over his words and suddenly your whole body felt warm, pleasantly and yet embarrassingly.

“Thank… thank you. Have a nice day, Steve,” you nearly squeaked, threw a quick smile over your shoulder and rushed from the kitchen.

Oh yeah.

Steve… he would often utter a compliment, like a proper gentleman he was, treating women right. Except you never heard him say such thing to Natasha, who was far easier on the eyes. Or to Pepper. He would open the door for you, reached the top shelves when you needed it, always offering a helping hand, shy and gentle smiles, so… diverse to how he was when with the Avengers.

No, Steve Rogers didn’t treat you like his friend.

And god knew that the day you figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing would be the day of solving the biggest enigma of the new millennium.

Unknown to you, Steve melted into the counter, putting down his cup of coffee and groaned at his utter inability to flirt.

“I swear, man, before you manage to give her a normal compliment without putting your foot in your mouth, someone else will snatch her,” Sam commented, having just sneaked into the kitchen to grab a three protein bars, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

Steve shot him a glare. “Thank you, Sam, you’re being very helpful. Has Bucky found you yet?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name! Do that two more times and he will app-“

“Wilson! You- ACHOO- fhakhin’ bird- ACHOOO-brain!” Bucky’s voice thundered through the whole floor and Steve smirked with satisfaction.

Sam’s body turned to stone, his eyes horrified and yet endlessly amused.

“Sorry, Cap, gotta go! But for God’s sake, just ask her out before we all go insane here…”

“Says the guy who cursed a supersoldier with sniffles!” Steve called after the disappearing figure exasperatedly, only to hear Sam’s laughter in the distance.

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“Silly circuit! What’s wrong with you? Do you have no decency? Just work…” you mumbled under your breath, eyes glued to the interface from a way too short distance, but you didn’t care for your health at this point. You just wanted to fix this.

“Is it talking back?” a hesitant and yet teasing voice asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. Your head snapped up in surprise.

“Steve. Hey,” you welcomed him briefly, shocked at the vision of the supersoldier in the workshop. “What brings you to our dungeon?”

“Coffee break,” he wiggled two coffee cups in his hands pointedly and beckoned towards the clock that… read ten in the evening. Oh. You didn’t realize you had been down here for so long. “Something tells me you didn’t have one in a while. Am I… overstepping?”

Your cheeks flushed similarly to his as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to cross the distance between you.

Coffee honestly sounded heavenly now. And with delivery and perhaps some company? Not bad, not bad at all…

“Oh. No! No, that’s just… I’m surprised,” you admitted. “I mean, you’re always nice to me, of course, but… eh, sorry, my people skills are lacking at this time of day. Remind me how to tell-- gosh, I can’t even word, I mean speak-- you really do have a point about that coffee break.”

You chuckled, a palm over your forehead, fighting the urge to run it down your face in embarrassment at you babbling.

Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hush his laughter at least partly, the sound coming out subtle and cute. He held out one of the cups for you and you instantly sipped at it reverently with your eyelids fluttering close, barely registering his soft: “Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on?”

Surprised once more by his query, you took another vehement sip of coffee before placing the cup in safe distance and answering.

“Eh, just some glitch in Natasha’s Bites. I think she fried it, using the electromotive units too much during the last mission and now the interface is misbehaving and we would rather avoid her accidently electrocuting people, god forbid, herself.”

“…that we would,” Steve agreed, blinking at you, seemingly a bit dumbstruck, but a twinkle of mischief reflected in his irises. “Looks like the coffee is kicking in pretty quick. You have no problem with wording now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle self-depreciatingly. He wasn’t wrong.

What threw you off balance was that he was… having a conversation with you, a playful one, so atypical of him – at least as far as it was concerning you – and… it felt truly nice. It did things to your stomach, a pleasant fluttery sensation and you quickly downed the rest of your cup, wondering if it was the shot of caffeine. You were about 97% sure that it wasn’t the cause.

“Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’ll have you know that it’s only my human skills that gets progressively pathetic with my caffeine levels running low, not my ability to say big words. Anyway, what’s got into you tonight? There’s something different about you… not that I’m complaining!”

Once more, his reaction took you aback. He flashed you a quick smile before lowering his gaze, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged. Sam might have found me making coffee for two and decided to give me a pep talk. He told me, and I quote, to suck it up and just spit it out. … And then made me take a sip from Thor’s flask.”

Your heart started beating its way out of your chest, a mixture of panic and excitement at his admission.

“Sounds like he’s a good friend then. Is there something on your mind? That you need to… spit out?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, peeking at your from under his rich eyelashes, shy but determined gaze settling on you as he leant onto the counter behind him. “I feel like… things I want to say tend to come out wrong. I… I’d like to know you better. If that would be alright with you.”

You felt endlessly grateful that moment, that the words ‘my jaw went slack’ were only a figure of speech, because otherwise you would have looked very comical and very much stupid. Still, your lips parted, the flutter in your stomach growing in intensity.

“…oh,” you breathed out intelligently, only to realize he had actually asked a question. Kinda. And he was waiting for you to answer. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’d love to do the same. I… I admit I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in further interaction, because I’m not on the team-“

“No! That’s not it at all, I swear,” he rushed to reassure you, sending a tiny pleased smile at your approval. “It’s just… like I said. I’m always tripping over myself around you, putting my foot in my mouth and- and things I want to say sound less awkward in my head.”

Tripping over himself around me? That sounded… nope, that couldn’t be it. Right? Except your heart was now hammering against your ribcage in excitement at the possibility, turning more real every second he was looking at you and dammit, do not give into the silly hope that Steve Rogers might actually like like you.

“Steve, you’re literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I like to think about you as sweet, not awkward.” Now wow, really, sweet? That was way too much, dummy. Except he smiled shyly, his eyes lightening up at the compliment and your fingertips tingled at the sweet display of delight. He relaxed further, settling more comfortably against the counter. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still up in invitation, an encouragement to share with him anything you were willing to.

“Well, you clearly already know how I take my coffee…”

Hint of darker pink coloured his cheeks, much to your glee.

“How did you end up working for Tony?”

“First of all, we all know I’m working for Pepper…”

He laughed at that, but listened patiently after, watching you work as you told him about your mum always being away on business trips and your father taking you to his workshop to keep your child’s mind occupied, teaching you stuff that was way too complicated for a little girl, but fascinating at the same time, showing you direction when you turned the age of making the big career decisions.

“Applying for this insane position wasn’t a spur of the moment. Pepper sent out e-mails to candidates she picked – I didn’t even know about the position opening, she simply used some of Tony’s searching tools and wrote people of whom she thought might handle the job. It was a little scary, to be honest. First, I thought there was no way for me to sign up for that; it would mean basically no personal life and I never wanted to be like my mum, never home…. But then it occurred to me how proud she would be of me, much like dad is and… I thought that it doesn’t have to be forever, you know. I can work here now and switch to something else when I decide to be a mum. Of course, I can see now, unlike when I was a kid and teenager, that she tried, but… I realized lots of that stuff only after she died and it’s just… I’m sorry she wasn’t there and that I didn’t try harder to appreciate her.”

You couldn’t fathom when you started pouring your heart to him or when your eyes started burning, but suddenly his hand was there, gently squeezing yours, his wide shoulders as if shielding you from the rest of the world simply by standing by your side and your eyes closed of their own account, your body strangely comfortable in Steve’s huge presence.

“I’m sure she knew,” he whispered warmly.

You smiled at him through the tears you had failed to keep at bay. “Sorry. Now whose mouth is loose. I bet you didn’t expect me oversharing when you said you wanted to know me better.”

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed, observing your face with a mixture of laughter at your joke and compassion at your outburst. “I appreciate that you’re willing to share something so big with me. Thank you.”

“It’s that eyes of yours. They made me spill my guts.”

He didn’t point out that your focus was on the device on the table and not his eyes, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket instead. He gave it to you, never letting go of your other hand.

“Oh wow,” you only commented, no more words needed. Who the hell still carried-

Steve groaned silently. “Please don’t make any old man jokes.”

“I was about to compliment your chivalry.”

“Sure you were,” he grumbled, but his mouth was curled up in a grin, so you assumed he wasn’t too offended by your reaction.

Staring at the dazzling display of perfect teeth, you missed another person coming in; until their shocked voice snapped you from your trance.

“Whoa, what’s happening?” Bucky blurted out, bewildered at the scene in front of him.

You jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your hand slipping from his. To be fair, so did he.

When had you got to standing in such intimate proximity anyway? Christ, something must have got into the air vents. You’d blame the Barnes-Wilson war for that… not that you complained. Having Steve standing so close, offering comfort without a single word of complaint after listening to you pouring your heart to him… you weren’t entirely joking when saying you were about to commend his chivalry.

Steve cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if he had been the one crying. “Bucky? What can I do for you?”

Bucky frowned first at his best friend and then at you, his gaze flickering between the two of you before settling on you, a worried wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

“You alright, dollface? Do I need to punch Captain Foot-in-the-Mouth in his face?” he beckoned his chin towards Steve and you instantly shook your head, still too caught off guard to find your voice.

“Buck, please…”

“It’s a relevant question, Steve. And I’d do it if she asked.”

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips and you offered Bucky a grateful smile, only to grin up at Steve before wiping the rest of your tears.

“You seem to have very supportive friends, Steve,” you remarked.

“You have no idea. What did you need?”

“Nothing from you, punk,” Bucky smirked and shifted his attention fully to you. “FRIDAY told me you needed me in here? Something about an upgrade for my arm? Which I don’t need-”

“… which is why I’m not working on such thing,” you said, baffled. Should you be working on Bucky’s arm?

The former Winter Soldier had an utter confusion written all over his face.

“Huh? Then why-?”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The workshop was suddenly swallowed by darkness, stunning him into silence.

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Part 2 ༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @cxptain @smilexcaptainx

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Original request: Basically, the reader is Tony's assistant and she's in and around the tower 24/7. Steve really likes her and in the rare times that she's able to get away from her work, she really likes him. They're always flirting with each other in the slightly awkward old-man way Steve has but they never actually get together. Bucky and Sam decide to get creative and start a prank war. The only problem is that they cause a power-cut and because of Tony's high-tech stuff, Y/N, Steve and Bucky are trapped in a room together with a bit of food, a board game (monopoly?) and some candles. Maybe Y/N just finished training and was in her small, tight outfits and Steve couldn't keep his eyes off her. Could the whole thing be full of sexual innuendos but NO SMUT PLEASE! Anyway, Bucky does something (maybe he sticks his foot out and Y/N trips over it into Steve's arms? Idk, I'm not good at this...) and they end up kissing or whatever?

Sorry for not completely following the script requested, I focused more on what my keyboard dictated O:-) I did say I was terrible with given scenarios. Hopefully you’ll enjoy at least a bit anyway. I can’t see myself filling any other request in my life, but I did have fun with this ;)

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Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #mcu #avengers #prank war #ground rules for love and war #anika ann

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lazywriter7 · 4 years

Text

Five Bells

Written for @lightsonparkave prompt one and two. Cheers to the delightful @firebrands for all her words of encouragement.

Summary:

After returning the Stones, Steve takes a detour through time.

First few lines of dialogue taken from Avengers: Endgame. All other lines in italics, as well as the title, are taken from Kenneth Slessor’s Five Bells.

________________________________

“How long is this gonna take?”

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.”

Time that is moved by little fidget wheels Is not my time

the flood that does not flow.

I have lived many lives, and this one life

“You know which bagel,” Steve says – mostly distracted. Cross-legged, notepad on thigh, he is drafting new training plans for the team; Pietro is proving to be a unique challenge.

“I do?” Tony queries, standing above his shoulder. The couch is low and he towers over Steve. “I don’t remember that being covered by the history books… unless I’d fallen asleep, of course.”

Steve freezes. No, no, he stills. The setting sun angles over Tony’s cheekbone, a deep, burnt red.

Steve lowers his gaze, his skin shivering with the afternoon chill. “Sesame seed, please.”

Why do I think of you, dead man

You have gone from earth,

Gone even from the meaning of a name;

It is in the little things. Natasha’s surprised blink when Steve brings her a peanut butter sandwich, the hollow silence when he curses on the comms and no one chimes the L-word back at him.

It is nothing. It should pale before the face of the big things, the earth-shattering, the miraculous – the reality of getting to hear their voices, see their faces, unblemished, every day.

Even Christmas. Clint snags a thumbnail under the wrapping paper and peels it open from the middle; lifts the box set of Jurassic Park colouring books in the air and shakes it. “Right, ‘cause I’m the toddler of the team, I geddit. Thanks, Cap.”

It’s for Cooper, Steve thinks; it’s dumb, I couldn’t help myself, you haven’t told us and I’m so sorry–

“Did you not have presents in your time?” Tony asks, part snark and mostly befuddled, the multicoloured gleam of fairy lights dappled in his hair.

I didn’t have you in my time – and. And. It is in the little things.

Yet something's there, yet something forms its lips

And hits and cries against the ports of space,

Beating their sides to make its fury heard.

“They’re shiny. Silver.” Tony says, bruised eyes, dim with a kind of terror Steve has lived through first-hand. “These big, heaving whales in the air… and everything else is dark. All of you are dead.”

It’s been twenty-three days since Steve told him about December 16, 1991. New traumas evoking older nightmares.

“And I’m alone.”

It wasn’t real, Steve should say. That is the correct response to a nightmare.

It was real, in another, deliberately forgotten lifetime. Five years, and they weren’t even the worst of it.

“We can prepare,” Steve fists his hands by his sides, so as to not reach for Tony’s trembling ones on the kitchen countertop. Everything around them is night and still, but for the flickering of the bulb overhead. “We’ll be ready for them when they’re here.”

It’s like a face shifting from the shade into the light; the gratitude moving over Tony’s features.

The kettle whistles, Tony pads over to the stove – and for an instant, it’s as if a cloud passes and Steve is convinced this is a BARF memory. There by the corner, the real Tony stands with shoulders curled in – gaunt, emaciated, mouthing words.

Liar. Thief. Liar, liar.

Are you shouting at me, dead man, squeezing your face

In agonies of speech on speechless panes?

Cry louder, beat the windows, bawl your name!

Tony, Steve breathes – and Tony catches it on his lips.

This has never happened before. Steve has no memories to compare it with, and catalogues every detail to add to a rolodex of sensations, for safekeeping; Tony’s eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s skin, the way the callus on his thumb digs into Steve’s chin when he’s holding it steady, the soft skin in the crevices between his fingers as their hands wound tighter together, the happiness of an impossible moment.

Tony pulls back, smiles softly.

Steve closes his own eyes, brushes his mouth over the corner of Tony’s, where the wrinkles begin – the place missing just a few extra lines.

But I hear nothing, nothing...only bells,

Five bells, the bumpkin calculus of Time

Your echoes die, your voice is dowsed by Life

“I have… Arlington.” Steve awkwardly presses himself against the wall of the overfull coffeeshop, paper cup oozing warmth through to his palms. Sometimes, if he lets himself forget, the crowds piling through the street and bustling indoors can still stun him. “There’s a memorial there, I mean. But if I could pick, after I eventually… Brooklyn, probably. In the Barnes family plot, if they allow it.”

“What,” Steve asks – turned morbid by the laughter and press of people around him. Fifty percent. It never happened here. “What about you?”

Natasha looks at him, brow crooking high enough to reach her hairline. Steve used to think that blistering colour came from hair dye, but he knows better now.

“Where I’d want to be buried?” She summarises bluntly. It’s like a wound getting cauterised – relief and pain making everything insensate.

The answer is a farm that isn’t supposed to exist, in the middle of nowhere. “Minsk,” Natasha says instead, and it doesn’t sound like a lie he’s heard before.

Nothing except the memory of some bones

Long shoved away, and sucked away, in mud;

And unimportant things you might have done,

Or once I thought you did; but you forgot,

And all have now forgotten

“Happy Sputnik Day!” Tony choruses, Thor’s deep base rumbling alongside his. Bruce is in the attached kitchenette, peering at jar labels in the shelf; Clint and Natasha playing Borderlands on the couch.

Steve comes further in from the doorway, gaze flitting incorrigibly from person to person. “What?”

“You know, Sputnik. The day all of humanity became a little cooler, and the Russians successfully launched the first satellite into orbit, driving the Americans insane.” Tony springs to his feet, wide grin approaching for a morning kiss. “October fourth.”

He barely catches Steve, fingers clamped about the arms, just as Steve pitches into the floor.

One year, one year one yearoneyearone –

Past, present, future swirls together in his serum-perfect brain, gibbering over two words, a fact so carefully forgotten; his breaths grow shallower and shallower, pain shooting through his chest with every hitch, black-spots-inverse-stars shimmering in his vision–

“You’re dead.” Steve rasps out, Tony’s face shuttering in confusion. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it. “You’re dead.”

Where have you gone? The tide is over you,

The turn of midnight water's over you,

As Time is over you, and mystery,

And memory, the flood that does not flow.

He’s curled on the couch, apostrophe-like; dry-mouthed but breathing slower against Tony’s denim-covered thigh. Tony drags blunt nails over his scalp, quietly humming under his own breath.

I’ve watched you, Steve thinks hazily – watched you raise a child, watched you be blissfully married, watched you speak to Howard, father to father, and dole out more understanding than he deserved, and let me walk you away from your pristine life and give me more trust than I had ever earned. I watched the silver grow from the temples of your head to the longer hair-strands, to the scrub of your goatee, up to the fleck of your brows. And the longer I keep watching you now, the more I know I’m watching someone else.

“Was so sure,” He can hear his voice reverberate off the floor, more of a croak than anything– “tha’ I wasn’ gonna leave you this time.”

Tony regards him, hum falling silent. There’s a dam there, in those eyes, holding back a wave of slowly stirring anger and injury that Steve fully intends to weather – but is leashed now, for some reason.

This Tony doesn’t have grey in his beard yet, but even as his lips move and Steve braces himself, he says–

“I’ll forgive you.”

The night you died, I felt your eardrums crack,

And the short agony, the longer dream,

The Nothing that was neither long nor short;

But I was bound, and could not go that way,

But I was blind, and could not feel your hand

After he’s said his goodbyes, Natasha follows him back to his room.

“Is he still in the plane somewhere?”

Back at the beginning, when he’d been dropping off the Tesseract at Camp Lehigh – he’d briefly considered it. Dropping off an envelope on Peggy’s desk with the coordinates of the Valkyrie, so that the other him could find… something. Maybe a happy ending, maybe just a chance. But all of time and its knowledge had been laid out before Steve, and he hadn’t resisted one extra indulgence.

It was only time before he met Scott, after all. One extra Particle than he had, one trip to the forties and back – and his self could be spared the pain of thirty years in the ice.

In twenty-twelve, Steve changed the course of history merely by showing up; all deep sea vessels, search parties in the Arctic called home. Captain America was alive and well.

“Seventy five, point two three zero six north, ninety nine point one one three zero west.” With every blink, Steve can see her memorising the numbers. “Find him, kick his ass into gear. Don’t let him run.”

She nods, and remains waiting in the doorway. Steve is motionless on the bed, the looming weight of the future wrapped around his wrist.

He looks at her. Natasha’s lips curve straight up, soft and reassuring.

“See you in a minute,” Steve whispers, and disappears.

If I could find an answer, could only find

Your meaning, or could say why you were here

Who now are gone, what purpose gave you breath

Or seized it back, might I not hear your voice?

Back on the platform, Bucky runs to him first. His brows are furrowed with faint surprise.

In that other past, and now that was The Other – Peggy had set him free in the seventies, aided by information that Steve left behind. When Steve re-emerged in twenty-twelve, he had no idea where Bucky was and how the years had passed for him – fettering his impulses in steel, and letting it remain that way. His interference would accomplish little, and Bucky had always managed on without him.

Or maybe that had just been easier for him to believe.

“Not the end of the line just yet,” Steve says.

The surprise smooths out of Bucky’s features, so does the staidness; he squeezes Steve’s elbow once and for a second, that grin seems alive.

“I hate running alone,” Steve tells Sam, who’s standing but two paces behind. He strides forward to catch up, reaches out and wraps Sam’s solid fingers over the strap of the shield in one motion. “Hold this for me, will you? Be back soon.”

He turns and walks. It’s a short one – the lakehouse property isn’t really big. There’s grass everywhere, and dandelions, and no headstones.

Just a tall, stately oak towards the side – foliage in full summer splendour. There’s already a circle of dropped acorns around the base, ready to sprout into a hundred, newer lives.

“Hey.” Steve strokes his fingers over the burnished bark. “I’m back.”

I have lived many lives, and this one life

Time that is moved by little fidget wheels

Is not my time, the flood that does not flow.

Outside the lakehouse, Laura is bundling the kids into a van. Clint steps down from the porch, murmurs something to her, then jogs over to where Steve is watching, arms folded.

“She did have family,” Clint says, almost as an aside. “Sisters, a few others.”

Steve breathes the news in. The scent of summer is strong in the air, lilacs and crabapples and the soil itself.

“I have a few of her effects. They must’ve heard, already, but someone should tell them in-person.”

“I’ll find them.” Steve affirms. Clint nods, and walks back to the van, where Cooper sticks his head out of the open windowpane and gets his hair ruffled teasingly for his efforts.

Steve watches, the warmth of the sun beating down his arms and back. He has a feeling Minsk is pretty nice this time of year too.

#lightsonparkave #stony #steve/tony #steve pov #time travel #grieving #endgame fix it #canon compliant #yup it's both #bittersweet #poetry #nat and tony live #in another timeline #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanov

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codenamed-queenie · 5 years

Text

Bruce sat up in bed so quickly he almost hit the ceiling.

“Alfred! Alfred!” he called to the hallway. “What day is it?”

“I think you know, Master Bruce,” came the soft, fearful reply.

In the distance, he heard a booming explosion. Dick was screaming. Timothy was laughing manically. Stephanie was cursing profusely as Damian shrieked. Jason was silent...and that in itself was perhaps the most concerning of all...

A Complete List of the Batkids’ Pranks, April 2019

Itching Powder in clothing.

Everyone’s clothing.

But Especially Tim’s.

Stephanie replaced every light bulb in the house with black lights.

Because Babs and Cass painted everything with glow-in-the-dark paint.

And I do mean everything.

It took Alfred and Bruce three hours to re-replace the bulbs, but it was a glorious three hours.

Especially when the boys brought in the laser tag guns.

Damian purchased no less than seven (7) plastic owls and hid them all over the house.

(Bruce hates owls. And so does Dick)

Cue frantic screaming whenever they stumbled upon one.

Bruce almost wrecked the Batmobile when he saw one in the rear-view mirror.

Cass put glitter on all the ceiling fans.

Stephanie--her partner in crime--complained about feeling overheated until some poor fool flipped the switch.

There is a photograph circulating on social media of a Very P.O.’d Bruce Wayne covered in enough pink and purple glitter to make him resemble something from the set of a Lady Gaga music video.

Jason hid lemons all over the manor.

In beds. In random appliances. In the vents. In the dishwasher. In the bathtub. Inside shoes. Everywhere.

For months, the manor will smell like rotting lemons until all of them have been found.

No one knows how many there actually are.

(But its 847. Let’s just say that Roy knows a guy.)

He also put a packet of red paint in every shower head in the house.

Tim came out looking like a tomato.

Damian caught on faster, and got out in time.

But he still came out looking like he’d survived a bloody battle.

“D-Damian? Son? W-what...happened?”

“It was a blood bath, Father.”

“Whose blood is--?”

Damian looked disinterestedly down at his stained arm. “Todd’s, most likely.”

“Most likely?”

Bruce fainted. He was out for a few hours.

Jason also put hair dye in the shampoo.

So, at least for the foreseeable future, Tim Drake is now a blond.

Stephanie escaped relatively unscathed--for obvious reasons.

Dick replaced all the glue in the house with candy.

No one really caught on for a few weeks.

But Damian had a school project due the next morning, and couldn’t for the life of him understand why the oddly-colored glue stick wasn’t working on his Civil War poster.

Tim hacked the Batcomputer, and changed the language to ‘Pig Latin’.

Proceeded to change the text font on everyone’s phones to Comic Sans.

With Barbara’s help, the others hacked into the League’s databases and changed everything to regular Latin.

Diana and a few others were unfazed.

Barry, who was on monitor duty, started crying took it like a champ.

On patrol, everyone spoke in a different language.

Except for Dick, who ‘pretended’ to lose his voice.

Jason: “ Y el inconveniente es...?” (And the downside is?)

Damian: “Δεν υπάρχει κανένα μειονέκτημα.” (There is no disadvantage.)

Dick: “Hey!”

Steph: “Ha! Je savais qu'il n'aurait pas durer!” (Ha! I knew he wouldn’t last!)

Bruce: “As crianças, deixar seu irmão sozinho, todos sabíamos que ele não iria durar.” (Kids, leave your brother alone, we all knew he wouldn’t last.)

Tim: “어이, 이봐, 진행 중인 사건이 여기 있다. 누구나 관심을 갖고 있다면...” (Hey, guys, there’s a robbery in progress down here. If anyone cares...)

They got bored, eventually, and started singing Bohemian Rhapsody.

In their different languages--

--giving everyone they encountered a small heart attack.

Tim rigged the microwave with spring-loaded Diethylzinc.

Jason went to cook a microwave breakfast burrito and set the kitchen on fire.

No one was harmed--except for Jason’s eyebrows.

And Bruce’s blood pressure (this was the explosion he woke up to.)

In retaliation, Jason booby-trapped the Red Robin suit with a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, potassium iodide, soap, and food coloring.

Ever hear of Elephant Toothpaste?

Tim was luckily not in the suit when the explosion went off. (The reaction gives off a lot of heat.)

Bruce sat everyone down at the end of the day.

“Kids. I want to thank you all for a very entertaining day. No one was injured--”

Dick cleared his throat meaningfully.

“--No one was seriously injured, and no one was killed--right? Is everyone here and accounted for? Barbara...?”

[Over the comms] “I’m alive, but heaven help the poor soul who decided to put those TNT poppers in my chair’s tire treads...”

Stephanie pursed her lips, eyes widening.

“What about Duke? Has anyone seen Duke?”

“He, uh, he may or may not be on a plane to Morocco at the moment...”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Hopefully.”

“Totally!”

[Deep sigh] “But there was no lasting property damage done this year. At least, nothing a few hundred dollars can’t solve.”

Jason leaned over to the others and stage-whispered. “Nobody better say anything about the BatSub.”

“The what?”

“Hearing voices again, old man? Might need to get your hearing checked.”

“Hn. Well, all in all, this was a very mild April Fool’s Day, by our standards. So I’d like to thank everyone for dialing things back this year. Meeting adjourned.”

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hopesbarnes · 4 years

Text

Icy Magic (3/10)

Originally posted on my AO3 (as Ice & Magic) this is an edited version of that story

Summary: Y/N ends up injured after a mission. She’s forced to spend the next month on medical leave and babysitting Loki. The two have more in common than they think…

It was Monday morning and all of the Avengers were training, leaving you and Loki the only ones around. After waking up you made your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. The stitches had healed enough that you were allowed to walk around the compound. Getting coffee has proven harder to do considering it hurts to reach up to the mugs, and only one hard could be used. Luckily Loki enters the kitchen around this time and grabs a mug for you.

"Thank you", you say while pouring the coffee into the mug.

"I apologize for angering you the other day," he says while sipping on a cup of tea.

"I know, I got your note," you say curtly.

"It was not right of my brother to force me here, or force you to watch me." You nod in agreeance, Thor really didn't give you any choice in the matter.

“I didn’t even think that he also forced you into this unfairly.”

"Would you like to join me in making him regret putting us together?" he asks while smirking. This could be good.

"What, pray tell, do you have in mind Loki?"

✧･ﾟ❆ *✧･:❆ ❆:･✧* ❆ﾟ･✧ ✧･ﾟ❆ *✧･:❆ ❆:･✧* ❆ﾟ･✧

Over coffee (and his tea) you discuss ways to get revenge on the god. Turns out most of Loki's ideas were rather violent and convincing him that he could not turn into a snake and stab Thor again was harder than it sounds. Eventually, after much debate, you decide to dye his beloved hair green. Loki figures out a way to magically charm Thor's shampoo so that when he puts it on his hair it turns green. As if that wasn’t enough, you charm all the mirrors to hide the prank from Thor. When the team comes in after training and all go to take showers you can't help but giggle once Thor is out of eyesight. Tony looks at the two of you suspiciously but shrugs it off.

At dinner time later that day everyone gathers to eat as a group. When Thor enters the room everybody can't help but laugh. His hair is the color of Loki's cape and his beard even got colored as well. Green is certainly not his color.

"What are we laughing at?" Thor asks confused.

"Your hair!" Bruce says pointing. Thor rushes to a mirror but still doesn't understand, and it isn't until you take a picture that he can see.

"LOKI" Thor booms as Loki looks unapologetic at his now green-haired brother.

"It wasn't all me brother" is all Loki replies while high fiving you. Maybe this month won't be as bad as you thought it would be.

✧･ﾟ❆ *✧･:❆ ❆:･✧* ❆ﾟ･✧ ✧･ﾟ❆ *✧･:❆ ❆:･✧* ❆ﾟ･✧

Wednesday comes and the novelty of a vacation in the compound wears off. Everyone can sense how much you are aching to do something more than watch tv. Training is a vice of yours, and without it, you have no clue what to do with your head. Luckily Natasha has an idea to pass the time.

"We're drinking," she announces and everyone mumbles and complains until you give them big puppy dog eyes

"Guys, please I am bored to death," you beg. Everyone gives in, they all feel bad about you being hurt.

"Everyone is getting drunk, no exceptions. Thor go get some of your god shit. We're playing Never Have I Ever."

Everyone in the tower sits in a circle to begin the game. Natasha to your left, Wanda on your right. Thor and Loki sit both as stiff as possible across from you. Steve and Bucky sit side by side, holding hands next to them. Bruce, Tony, and Rhodey are sprawled out completing the circle.

Natasha explains the rules to the centenarians and Asgardians who agreed to the game without understanding what it was. They nod along confused but the game starts nonetheless. Since you made everyone play you went first.

“Never have I ever gotten high,” you admit. Tony, Rhodey, and surprisingly Bruce drink. You eye Bruce and he just shrugs. Wanda goes next.

“Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she says. The guys groan and Thor, Bruce, Tony, Bucky, Rhodey, and Natasha drink. In true Nat fashion, she winks when Tony points at her.

“Steve didn’t drink!” Tony yells at Steve.

“Peggy wasn’t my girlfriend, doesn’t count,” he says. It takes a few seconds to calm Tony and Steve down and get back on track.

A few more rounds go by and you learn that Bucky’s been in love, Tony has gotten out of a speeding ticket, and Thor regretted a breakup. It’s Rhodey’s turn now and he says,

"Never have I ever had a crush on someone in the compound, either avenger or not."

Everybody but Rhodey moves to drinks, even Loki. You, of course, drink too because, in the beginning, you had an embarrassing crush on Bucky. That was until you realized he and Steve were in a relationship. Every person looked around trying to figure out who someone liked until Tony continued the game.

#Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #marvel #loki x y/n

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solaneceae · 4 years

Text

MY HUMAN!EGOS AU

i got a surge of inspiration and started creating my own versions of the egos! its still a work in progress but i love them to bits and im really excited to share them

JACKIE

grew up in an abusive household, emotional and sometimes physical abuse

parents screamed at each other all the fucking time, father was an alcoholic

Left home as soon as he was able to live by himself (16)

he’s 22 now

poor

trans boi, on T, wears a binder cuz he can’t afford top surgery

lives in an apartment with two roommates: Max, a philipino sound designer and independent musician (they/them) and their girlfriend Nilanjana (Nana), a buff training coach from indian descent

Jackie is in a queerplatonic relationship with them: they cuddle and kiss on the forehead during movie nights and all that cute shit

he has a part-time day job to pay the rent and bills: he gives self-defense lessons

he drinks his respect women juice

vigilante at night. gets hurt a lot. his roommates think he fights in an illegal fight club for extra cash and are worried about him

wants to save people and spread positivity wherever he goes

but he has the wrong way to go about it

basically he does the PMA thing wrong and thinks any kind of negativity is bad and tries to force himself to be happy all the time.

not healthy, someone help this poor boi

anger issues, undiagnosed ptsd and ADHD

antsy boi! stimmy boi! He’s always bouncing on his feet or humming a tune or fiddling with his hair

aromantic asexual

pure of heart, dumb of ass. seriously, he’s such a dumb, but he does have street smarts

vitiligo!!

light blue eyes, dyes his brown hair lime green

extrovert, loves people

the kind of guy to record himself doing parkour and post it on tiktok

team hot cocoa

for the love of god please don’t give him coffee, he’s enough of a jitterbug already

wants a dog. prolly needs an emotional support one.

plays the drums. Fished a beat-up set somewhere, would like a proper one

fights with his fists and a wooden staff

no special powers, just self-taught fighting skills, natural flexibility and talent at acrobatics and rigorous training

MARVIN

he was born with green cat eyes, the physical representation of his extremely potent magic. parents were freaked out, and basically hid him away

had no control over his powers as a baby, would wreak havoc around him. think Mob from Mob Psycho 100

the upper side of his face was badly burned when he lost control of his powers as a toddler, so he wears masks to hide the scars. the cat one is just the one he wears most often

“hey, nice mask!” “it’s a prosthetic.” “...oh.” (it’s not that bad really, he’s just really self-conscious about it)

he was homeschooled his whole life and generally wasn’t allowed to go out much, so his social life/skills are nonexistent

his parents are famous fashion designers

they’re super rich and travel the world and send him a ridiculous amount of money every month

they say it’s for work but the real reason is that they couldn’t deal with having a “freak” as a son but couldn’t abandon him without getting bad PR

so instead they just took their distance and left him to live in a big-ass mansion by himself as soon as he was old enough (10 years old)

they dont really care what he does. last time they called him was when he was 13

last time they sent him a birthday card was when he was 18

now he’s 24

(and at this point he makes me think of bruce wayne lmao. he needs an alfred)

since he has money and home, he doesn’t need a job, so he just stays cooped up in the property and almost never leaves, he orders his food and groceries to be delivered to him

he’s basically a hermit at this point. and a huge nerd

he tries to use his natural magic as little as possible, (hello trauma my old friend) so he still has flimsy control over it

instead he dabbles into wicca and the occult to do stuff

A bookworm, quite serious, dresses like a hipster art school student. he wears SAROUEL PANTS.

glasses!! Big round rimless glasses!! soft!!!!

long brown hair, messy bun, dyes the tips dark green and purple

disaster gay

“sleep? what’s that? i only know coffee”

has three cats he rescued himself: Spades, Jasper and Poppy

has a huge greenhouse linked to the main building. he likes gardening a lot, whether it’s for his craft, for cooking or just because he likes seeing plants flourish

HOW THEY BOTH MET / IDEAS AND SHIT

Jackie tried to take on a whole ass drug ring and bit more than he could chew at the time so he got beat up pretty bad. He managed to escape with his trusty grappling hook and swung around a bit before crashing through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse while Marv was tending to his plants, in the early morning.

Long story short Marv is in a panic because a complete stranger (also the only human being he’s interacted with in months) just flopped in front of him and is probably dying and he wants to call an ambulance.

jackie: *beaten black and blue and coughing up blood* jackie: oh hey how’s it goin’ marv: *distressed nerd noises* marv: oh my god who the fuck are you but also are you dying in my house im calling an ambulance- jackie: uh yeah no please dont im kinda doing illegal stuff also i cant afford it marv: marv: wh-

also what if marv calls the family’s doctor since jackie won’t go to a hospital, and it’s fucking Schneep henrik: what the fuck did you do this time marv: it wasn’t me! jackie: your family doctor scares me marv: that’s why they hired him

maybe after that jackie keeps coming to see marv and marv is like “ugh you again-” and he always come to marv whenever he gets hurt, to get patched up by schneep. he broke the ceiling two more times basically they become “hey ron hey billy” vine, its just a habit at this point.

Marv is a rich boi that doesn’t know anything about life. at this point i realize he’s like a mix of Elsa and Rapunzel, and Jackie is kinda Flynn xD Jackie just… aggressively becomes Marv’s friend despite the magic man’s reluctance, and shows him the world. love me some smart grumpy nerd/dumb happy jock friendship

jackie: im your friend now marv: wh- jackie: *drags him outside* LETS GO CLIMB A BUILDING TOGETHER-

Marvin but he’s never been in a grocery store in his entire life because he just orders super expensive pre-made meals to his house or cooks his own veggies, and he’s just amazed at the first one they go to

like “wHAT, IT’S A ROW OF FREEZERS! Remind me to install one of these at my place!”

and Jackie, who just came here for bread and milk, looks at him fondly but also is very concerned. Also he doesnt question marv’s masks, he just thinks they look cool

@tabbynerdicat it’s my bois! @lilakennedy because i know you like those two, and your love for them motivated me to develop them first

#caori's stuff #jacksepticeye #jse #jse egos #jacksepticeye egos #jackieboy man #jbm #marvin the magnificent #jse au #human!egos AU

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violetsmoak · 4 years

Text

Pieces of April [18/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait on the latest chapter, I spent the weekend plotting some original work and it sort of took over my brain for a while. Also, this chapter has been fighting me. Mostly because I’ve been working on the big Batfam discovery moment and I can’t wait to get there, and having to slow down and write everything in between is soooooo frustrating! But hopefully we’ll get there soon lol. In the meantime, enjoy!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The next morning finds Jason once again in Tim’s kitchen, this time doing a fry-up of bacon and eggs. He’d been surprised to find either of those things in Tim’s fridge, having appeared as if by magic.

(Jason suspects Tim gets his groceries delivered instead of shopping like a normal person; he’s not going to complain, though, since food is food.)

From her carrier’s usual perch on the kitchen island, Luisa is frowning at him—or at least frowning at his general direction—in disapproval like a miniature, squishy Winston Churchill.

“What?” he asks her, feeling oddly judged. “You don’t like my fryin' technique?” She sticks her tongue out, and yawns, easing back in her carrier. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He’d probably shit his pants if she actually spoke back, but he’s seen stranger things in his life.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp, explosive bang from outside as a car backfires, and Luisa jolts, eyes going wide in shock before she starts shrieking.

“Crap,” Jason grunts, dropping the spatula and hurrying over to pick up the startled baby. Lifting her up, he starts rocking her back and forth, trying to shush her and wincing as the crying just gets louder.

How does such a little thing make such a big noise?

Still trying to calm her, he goes to pick the spatula up off the floor to toss in the sink and glances around for another. Luisa keeps crying, little fists beating ineffectually at him, and no matter what position he holds her in she refuses to let up.

“I know you’ve never heard something that loud before, but don’t you think this is an overreaction?” he mutters, glancing desperately around for the cape Tim was using as a carrier the other day. It’s nowhere within range, and so he turns off the stove and shoves aside the pan to ensure the bacon doesn’t burn while he deals with the baby complication.

As he searches, rocking and shushing Luisa as he goes, he’s getting generally more frustrated at not being able to get her to stop wailing. He’s on the verge of giving up and going to wake Tim—which is embarrassing on so many levels—when he remembers what the kid told him yesterday about heartbeat and skin-to-skin contact.

Making a quick decision, he places the squalling infant on the couch for an instant while he shrugs out of his shirt. Then, ignoring the sense of awkwardness he picks her up to hold against his bare chest, cradling her head in support as he continues to rock subtly, bouncing somewhat on the balls of his feet.

Luisa’s still wailing, mushing her face into his chest almost in protest, and his ears are beginning to ring. But slowly, as the minutes creep by, the sound morphs into weak fussing. Her little ear settles against a spot near his breastbone, right over his heart, and that sound wanes as well.

There’s a sniffle, a wet almost-hiccup in her breathing, and then she goes silent and calm again.

Hey, look at that.

Jason actually managed to calm her down himself, instead of calling for help or putting her down to yell until she tired herself out. He’s not sure why he feels a stab of pride in that, but he decides it doesn’t matter in the face of the now silent baby.

He keeps hold of her until her breathing evens out and she passes out and then returns to the kitchen and the carrier.

Once she’s settled again, he notices that he’s being watched, and glances up to see Tim, ruffled and still blinking sleep out of his eyes even as he studies the scene in front of him.

Eyes raking up Jason’s form, he opens his mouth to say something, frowns to himself and shakes his head.

“I need coffee,” he mumbles at last and slouches into the kitchen to turn on the Keurig. While waiting for it to brew, he turns back to Jason, leaning against the counter and tilts his head to one side. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

Jason looks down his front at the All-Caste markings no longer hidden by the baby’s form.

They’re not tattoos. At least, not exactly.

But the real story’s too complicated and not something he wants to get back to the Bats, so he just shrugs and says, “I don’t exactly put out announcements in the Family newsletter.”

Tim nods, ceding the point.

“So, what do they mean?” he asks as his coffee finishes brewing.

“None of your damn business. Don’t you have work?”

The younger man raises an eyebrow. “It’s Saturday?”

Right. Weekends are a thing.

“I do have some online classes to log on for later, though,” Tim goes on. “But I don’t really have to dress up in a suit for that.” He smirks. “I’m not Damian.”

“I dunno—you’re both pint-sized pains in my ass,” Jason retorts, trying to hide his surprise that Tim is still in school. He thought he’d dropped out when Bruce went missing in the timestream; he didn’t realize the guy was still doing that.

God, he’s doing school on top of everything else? How is this kid still alive?

“I’m still taller than he is,” Tim hedges, with a trace of sulk in his voice.

Heh. Think we’ve hit a sore point there.

But he chooses not to pursue it; better for him if Tim’s in a good mood.

“I’m goin' out again today,” he informs him, trying not to grit his teeth at the effort it takes not to make it sound like a question. He doesn’t need permission, damn it! “Have a little conversation with Isabel’s ex, for all the good it’ll do.”

“I figured as much,” Tim replies, unbothered. He sips at his coffee. “Isa and I will be fine. Besides, when I’m done my classwork, I’ve got a lead I want to pursue. I might have tracked down some of Isabel’s blood relatives.”

Jason pauses, ears perking up. “Seriously?”

“I think so. Try not to get your hopes up, though.” He frowns then, tilting his head to one side. “You might want to do something about that before you go meeting with anyone.”

He makes a circular motion around his own forehead.

Nonplussed, Jason wanders toward the mantlepiece and the mirror above it, making a noise of understanding when he realizes what Tim was pointing out.

“Noted,” he agrees, flicking at his hair.

The problem with dying his hair black is the need to touch it up every six weeks; the roots of his natural red coloring start to peek through around then, along with the thick white streak that sprouts from just above the scar in his hairline. The latter doesn’t hold the color for very long, fading to a washed-out gray-white within a few washes.

The upkeep is a pain in the ass, but black hair is a lot less memorable in his line of work, a lesson he learned quickly as both Robin and during his League training.

Once Tim’s settled into his temporary workstation at the kitchen table, with Luisa snoozing within easy reach, Jason takes off.

Like the day before, he commandeers one of Tim’s bikes and heads out to pharmacy near one of his safehouses in Midtown. He figures it’s best to keep any kind of chemical smell far away from the baby, and besides he kind of wants to avoid Tim walking in on the dyeing process. He needs to do his eyebrows, and if the younger man were to make a comment, Jason would have to punch him—which seems a poor reward for someone helping him out right now.

Once he’s applied the dye and is waiting for it to set, he uses the laptop in his bolt hole to remotely access the Cave systems again and brings up the phone records between Isabel and her group of friends, including Jonathan Sutter.

It feels morbid and invasive, but he needs a better sense of who these people are and how to approach them. The texts between her and her friends are the usual thing you’d expect from a group of twenty-somethings making plans or bitching about work. As for the exchanges between her and Sutter, there aren’t that many; it seems their relationship was mostly in person or by phone.

Jason’s relieved about that because he’s not sure he could stomach reading his dead ex-girlfriend’s sexting her boyfriend.

Because I don’t feel creepy enough about this as it is…

He finds reference to a few events they attended together—restaurant dinner, a trip to the opera, a Broadway play—

“Wow, this guy was predictable,” Jason mutters to himself before he finds something interesting.

Sutter’s accounting firm did work on a huge contract with WE the year before, resulting in invitations to one of their charity events. Sutter evidently invited Isabel to go with him, which could provide a good backstory for Jason.

He’s been to those things before, both under protest and undercover, and they all go down the same way. It’s an easy cover for what he needs.

Closing the laptop, he goes to wash the last of the dye off and then showers for good measure. He actually takes more than ten minutes for once, since he’s alone and doesn’t need to keep his ear out for a crying baby. Even when he knows Tim is watching her, he can’t help waiting for something bad to happen.

It’s a bit irritating, actually; he inherited all the worries a new parent might feel about screwing up their kid, and yet none of the connection. It’s not just because he’s holding himself back from it either; he wonders if he had known about the baby—if he and Isabel had been involved during her pregnancy—if he would feel more of a bond to Luisa.

“No point wonderin',” he mutters to himself as he gets out of the shower and towels off. He learned a long time ago that speculating over the ‘what-if’s’ of the past would just lead him down a dark pit of self-pity.

On a whim, he grabs the make-up and prosthetic’s kit from beneath the sink and sets about making himself a disguise. He doesn’t usually bother with disguises anymore—those undercover gigs with Bruce seem far too long ago—but since he’s just testing the waters, he doesn’t want to be too recognizable.

The end result is a passable imitation of the infamous Matches Malone look Bruce cultivated, though Jason makes an effort to look a lot more kempt, before setting out once more.

The cameras he left watching Sutter’s place, as well as the tracker on his car, put him at a strip-mall not far from his home. Upon investigation, Jason finds himself standing in front of a high-priced vegan grocery.

“Seriously?” Jason mutters to himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust. The store isn’t even one of the legit wholesale places filled with locally sourced products, but one of the trendy boutiques, stocked with items that are three times more expensive just to cover the import costs and the brand name.

He loiters around the shelves, pretending to be examining the dozens of different types of Norwegian water while keeping an eye out for his target.

Sutter appears at the head of the aisle moments later, pushing a cart and followed by a young brunette. Younger than him, at least; Sutter’s about thirty, which puts the woman he’s with at about ten years younger.

She says something to him, clearly cheerful and excited, and Sutter replies in kind, accepting whatever package she puts in the cart. She leans up to peck him on the cheek, and then practically bounces away. The minute she’s gone, Sutter’s expression becomes long-suffering. He checks his phone with an air of impatience.

So he’s not actually into his stuff, but faking it for her.

It’s possible that’s just him attempting to be a supportive boyfriend, Jason supposes. But it also suggests the decision-maker in the relationship is the girlfriend, which could be a problem.

Only one way to find out.

He makes a production of turning just as Sutter passes him, and then affects a double-take at seeing him for the first time.

“Hey, I know you!” he declares, earning a look of surprise, followed by the guy looking around with a ‘who me?’ kind of expression. Jason pretends not to see it. “Johnny—John? Sutter, right?”

The man stares at him, apprehensive. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember?” Jason says, affecting an amused chuckle. “Heh. Guess you wouldn’t, I look a lot spiffier in a tux.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—"

“Peter Malone, Locke Insurance? We met at the WE charity ball last March.” Sutter continues to look wary. “You were there with that knockout—whatshername…Izzy? Annabelle?”

“Isabel?” Sutter supplies, expression slowly morphing from wary to uncomfortable. The expression of someone worried he’s about to be caught out for not remembering a name.

“Right! Yes, her—damn, she was a looker.”

“Yeah…sorry, but I don’t really remember you,” Sutter says, expression clearing, and adopting an apologetic grimace. “But there were a lot of hands to shake that night, so...”

“Don’t I know it,” Jason agrees. “I left with about six new clients that night. Pretty good for a charity event, eh?” He doesn’t give Sutter a chance to reply. “So, you still with her?”

“What?”

“Isabel—hot blond? Legs up to here?”

Sutter’s tone becomes clipped again. “No.”

Jason gives an exaggerated whistle. “Damn shame…damn shame. You two looked like you were having fun.”

“Yeah, well…” Sutter gives a tight smile, eyes flicking away like he’s looking for an exit. “Things don’t always work out.”

“You know if she’s still single now?” Jason prompts, laying on the smarm. “Think you could set us up?”

“I think you’re the last person she wants anything to do with right now,” Sutter replies coolly. “Now, if you excuse me—”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t think she’d be into me? Everyone wants a piece of this.”

“Hope you like kids then,” the man mutters as he edges away.

Jason affects a wide-eyed gaze. “She’s got kids? Damn, she doesn’t look the type.”

He makes it sound like some kind of disease, earning a snort of agreement from Sutter, who says, “I thought so too.”

There’s a trace of bitterness there, one Jason recognizes intimately. He had foster parents that looked and sounded the same. Still, he presses on, pretending to be clueless at the cues the other man is trying to give him to end the conversation.

“Not a fan of the rugrats?”

“Not especially,” Sutter replies tightly. “And raising someone else’s kid? When you work the hours I do? I’ve got a career, my company’s got me flying from the East Coast to the West Coast every couple of weeks, my family’s already complicated—it’d be hard enough raising my own kid, let alone someone else’s.” He looks up as the blond from earlier appears, with some overpriced wafer crackers. “Anyway, nice catching up with you. See you around, I guess.”

He practically takes off at a run.

“Yeah, take it easy,” Jason replies dully. In three sentences, he’s learned everything he needed to know about the guy’s fitness as a parent.

This guy’s a hard ‘no’ then.

Jason leaves the store, mood dark. He takes a few hours to wander around Crime Alley and soak up the comings and goings without anyone recognizing him, before turning to Tim’s apartment via the underground entrance.

“Looks like it didn’t go too well,” Tim says when he sees him. He’s in the process of changing Luisa, who is making noises of disapproval. She doesn’t like to be wet, but she also doesn’t like being cold, so getting changed appears to be her least favorite part of the day.

“He doesn’t want to be involved,” Jason says, not wanting to go into detail. “Which is what we figured would be the case.”

“Well, now you know for sure.”

“All I’m sure about is people suck.”

“So what’s the next step?”

“I’ve got a list of Isabel’s friends to contact. If they seem legit, I’ll see about figurin' out if they want to step up in honor of Isabel’s memory.”

He makes a face at that, knowing how it sounds, but being unable to think up any other alternative.

“I could come along,” Tim offers.

“No,” Jason says immediately. “People see you and they see dollar signs. Either for sellin' the story to the press or pretendin' their decent because they’ll think the kid means you bankrollin' them for the next eighteen years.”

“Point,” Tim says, and there’s a clench of his jaw that makes Jason think that scenario resonated with him personally for some reason. “I still don’t think you should go alone. You need someone along to soften your image, so you don’t come off as a creep.”

“I can be soft if I want to be,” Jason protests, offended.

“I have…no idea how to respond to that that won’t sound like Dick,” Tim tells him. “So I won’t.”

“Magnanimous of you."

“Here’s an idea—call Safiya. Ask if she’ll come with. She might even have met some of these people before.”

“Good point.” Jason makes a mental note to call her later, and wanders into the kitchen.

Noticing that other than the various plastic bottles and hastily closed formula containers there's no sign of plates or take-out, Jason determines Tim probably hasn’t made anything for dinner or even just for himself.

Assuming he even knows how to cook.

He opens the door to the fridge, and just stands there for a long moment, before shaking his head and closing it again when nothing immediately appeals to him.

Jason’s not entirely sure what he wants right now, his stomach growling in complaint for food having to compete with a pervading nausea at the idea of a heavy meal. He ends up cutting up a plate of fruit to tide him over until he can make a decision and wanders over to the space in the living room where Tim is working. Safiya is now nowhere in sight, but the baby monitor is on, the green lights lighting up and fading in tandem with distant sound of breathing.

“She actually let me put her down,” Tim explains when he notices where Jason’s looking.

“You’re the favorite,” Jason retorts, not sure why the idea doesn’t sit well with him. He supposes it’s left over from years of seeing Tim as the replacement everyone preferred to him. Rather than get trapped in that dark line of thinking, he offers the younger man his plate. “Any luck tracking down Luisa’s family?”

Tim absently accepts a few wedges of apple. “Yes and no.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Jason asks, throwing himself onto the couch. There’s a groan under his weight, which earns a pissy look from Tim, but the latter doesn’t address it.

“Isabel never told you much about her extended family, right?”

“Beyond the fact that they exist somewhere, not really. We didn’t really talk families, for obvious reasons.”

“Right.”

“She said she and her parents left Bogota before she was two, and if she met anyone before then she can’t remember.”

“Well, it turns out there’s a reason for that,” Tim says and slides his tablet over to Jason. When he picks it up, it takes a minute for his eyes to register the information Tim’s hunted up. “Her parents were fleeing Columbia to get away from them. It seems the Ardila family is in deep with the Medellin cartel there.”

“No shit,” Jason says, eyes wide.

This may actually explain Isabel’s lack of panicking in the face of aliens and mobsters…

“Isabel’s parents sought asylum in the US and eventually qualified for citizenship.”

“How’d they manage that if they were from a crime family?”

“My guess? Being good at bending the truth and having excellent forged documents.”

“Either way, that’s another option off the table,” Jason sighs, letting his head fall back on the couch in exasperation.

Tim hums in agreement and for a few moments, they simply sit in silence against the sense of defeat.

It’s not until the baby monitor suddenly gives a sudden series of noise—bursts of what at first sounds like static, but they then realize are tiny sneezes—that either of them moves again.

“I should check her,” Tim says, but Jason holds up a hand to stop him.

They listen a few moments longer, hear a bit of grumbling across the monitor, and then there’s only the sound of breathing.

“If you’re going to go running every time she sneezes or coughs, you’re going to give her a complex,” Jason informs him.

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who was worried she had yellow fever.”

“I wasn’t worried, I was…concerned.”

“Now you sound like Bruce.”

“Take that back, Replacement.”

They glare at each other, but there’s little heat in it. At last, Tim rolls his eyes and looks away.

“On a somewhat related note—” Tim reaches for a file folder and takes out a piece of paper with a table on it, which Jason immediately recognizes as a schedule. Various duties have been written into the cells—feeding, changing, future bath times.

“You actually made one,” Jason says, somewhat disbelieving.

“Of course I made one. This last week, we’ve just been reacting to everything. We can’t keep going like that, and I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of the petty arguments about who does what.”

“Petty,” Jason repeats tonelessly.

“Petty,” Tim agrees. “As you can see here, these are the times when we might consider calling for outside help. I checked with Safiya about what days she’s conditionally available, and even Tam—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—Tam agreed?”

“Well, she agreed for emergencies,” Tim allows. “Like, if it’s raining Joker toxin from the sky kind of emergencies.”

Jason scowls. “Don’t tempt fate with that shit.”

“You know what I mean. If there’s something big going on, she said she’ll cover for us. Since it’s all temporary, and all.”

“Right…” Jason agrees faintly, staring at the blinking lights of the baby monitor. “Temporary…”

The rest of what Tim's saying fades to background noise, as his thoughts are overwhelmed with a sudden worry:

What if we don't find anyone worth taking her?

⁂⁂⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

#jaytim #timjay #tim drake #jason todd #babyfic #fanfiction #bringing up baby #accidental baby acquisition #baby isa #fluff #adulting #slice of life

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marvel-lous-things · 5 years

Text

Promises

AN: reposting because tungle.hell is a little bitch that messed up the read more link on this and doesn’t deserve rights.

Words:

Relationships: Family fluff, Pepperony, mentions of Peter’s crush on Harley

Prompt: “Every month everyone has a get together at the pepperony cabin and they have dinner together. Happy grills cheeseburgers for the kids (Morgan, Clint’s boys, Peter, Lila, Cassie, Harley) and they play outside until it gets dark, the older kids giving the younger ones piggy back rides and everyone eating juice pops. Steve is inside, bantering with Bucky and Sam, like the old times. Pepper wishes Tony would be here to see it all.”

—-

It was tradition, at this point, for everyone to meet up in Pepper’s old cabin (she had since moved to New York) on the first Sunday of each month.

It had begun with a miscommunication. Steve had texted Bruce that he’d be visiting Pepper to check on her and Morgan, on that fateful day a little over a year ago. Somehow, Bruce had interpreted that as “Gather the whole gang, we’re gonna collectively show up at Pepper’s cabin with 35 assorted presents.”

It was a little odd the first time round, what with Bruce apologizing profusely for goofing up, and the cabin being too small to hold everyone while also allowing them some personal space. But she’d decided she liked having them all around. Might as well do it again.

14 months and 14 barbecue meet ups later, everyone looked forward to driving out there for a nice evening of grilled food and banter. And the occasional explosion. To be fair, when you throw two brilliant, reckless, science-loving teenagers and an equally brilliant, reckless, science-loving little girl together, explosions can (and will) occur.

Which is why Happy was very loudly arguing with Harley over using his “new and improved” grill rather than the usual one from Happy’s garage, which was decidedly safer and less daunting to use. To top it off, the damn thing was shaped like a nuke.

Elsewhere, the younger kids were having their own argument, except theirs had a little less to do with barbecue grills.

“Morgan,” Pepper called out, noticing the commotion, “it’s Cooper’s turn now, sweetheart.”

“But mom-”

“Give it to him.”

“Just a minute!”

“Morgan.”

The 6 year old turned around, gave her mom the most heart-achingly adorable pout, and begrudgingly handed her brand new nerf gun to the older boy (a very well received gift from May). They’d been going at it all evening, shooting empty soda cans off rocks, tree branches, and at one point, Peter’s head.

Steve smiled, watching Barton’s kid shoot a can off Harley’s bike from 10 meters away. And then immediately panicking after realizing the can was actually full. And probably belonged to Harley.

“Kid’s good with a gun, Clint,” Steve noted.

“Scared he won’t take after his dad?”

The glare he received from the arrow enthusiast was borderline terrifying.

“We’ve just got killer aim, Rogers, it ain’t about the weapon. Hand me a gun, stand across the lake, and I’ll show you.”

Pepper laughed, throwing Clint a grape flavored juice pop (his favorite kind).

“Nobody’s murdering anybody in my house, alright?”

Just before Clint could catch his dessert, though, a web shot out from behind the couch and snatched the sugar infused stick of ice right out of mid air. The web then proceeded to disappear as quickly as it came.

“Well, actually, Pepper,” said a youthful voice, no doubt belonging to the pop thief,

“the murder would happen outside the house, so technically-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you give that back right now or you’re grounded for a month.”

Peter winced. Busted.

“He can get himself another one, May!” He tried (in vain).

“There’s a whole freezer full of em right outside-”

“Peter.”

May raised her eyebrow at him. Ah, there it was. The look of devastating disapproval. A look nobody could stand to receive, let alone Peter “I cried watching Big Hero 6″ Parker.

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, back flipping over the armrest; a completely extravagant and unnecessary move that was only carried out in case Harley was watching. Peter had been trying his absolute best to get Harley’s attention off late. He told May that it was because he wanted to prove that “he’s the alpha” (May thought her disaster of a son simply wanted to impress his crush. She was right).

20 lazy footsteps and an annoyed huff later, the juice pop was slid across the kitchen counter, right into Clint’s open hand.

When it was, regrettably, immediately snatched away by Lila.

Clint blinked. “Can’t catch a damn break, can I?”

Laura laughed, planting a reassuring kiss on her husband’s cheek. She’d learned over the past year that Clint had turned to vigilante justice to deal with his feelings of anger and helplessness. She couldn’t have him hunting down members of the Ukrainian mafia over popsicles.

“Calm down, drama queen, I’m sure there’s more in the ice box-”

“WHO TOOK ALL THE DAMN GRAPE JUICE POPS?” Captain America yelled from outside. A sound that was immediately followed by a very ungraceful pterodactyl-like screech, and Clint putting his head in his hands.

“…or maybe not.” She winced.

That was the exact moment Bucky took to walk down the stairs. a sticky purple mess gracing his face. He stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, and just this once, he was sure it wasn’t because they were admiring his beauty.

His eyes darted around the room, making note of Clint’s deep resignation, Pepper’s terrible poker face, May’s grimace, and Steve nearly falling off his chair in sheer amusement.

He wasn’t fully sure how to proceed.

“Uh…”

He looked around the room again, hoping it would give him answers.

It didn’t.

“…what’s up?”

Steve actually did fall over at this point, prompting Peter to scream something about senior citizen needing help, followed by Cassie dialing 911 on Morgan’s old toy telephone. Neither of which helped him make sense of what was going on. Although, he had to admit, it was a little funny.

Bucky’s question, however, was answered when Sam entered the kitchen with the force of a very disgruntled wildebeest. He looked around wildly, until his eyes fell on Bucky and his incredibly purple grin.

“You,” Sam glowered.

“Me,” Bucky replied sweetly, slowly wiping the purple dye off his mouth with his sleeve. Which, of course, only served to drive Sam further up the wall.

“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GRAPE!”

“True, true.” Bucky shrugged.

“I do love pissing you off, though.”

What followed after was Sam chasing Bucky out into the woods, brandishing his shield and yelling something about how “this shield ain’t only for defending, I’ll star spangle whoop your ass you dick, come back here.”

Clint followed a minute later, on a quest to avenge his stolen popsicle

(This was after they were pointedly told by Pepper to take their battle outside, they’d lost enough vases over the year to the kids’ antics as it were).

Steve eventually found the strength to get back on his chair, and throw an apple in Harley’s general direction. Which was warranted, because the kid kept yelling “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” in this ridiculous (and frankly, offensive) “old man voice” while Steve did, in fact, struggle to get up.

He briefly wondered how pleased Tony would be to see Captain Perfect struggling with real, human issues, like achy joints and a sore back. Almost as if she’d read his mind, Pepper voiced his thoughts.

“Tony would’ve loved to see you dealing with elderly-man problems, you know.” She laughed. “The number of times he’d complain that ‘Steve goddamn Rogers’ doesn’t suffer from a single grey hair even at the age of 100, while he did even though he was��only 50.”

She made air quotes around the “only.”

“Took a lot of convincing for him to let it grow out, you know, instead of hiding it behind dye after dye,” she rolled her eyes, “he looked at me like I’d told him to give Morgan up for adoption.”

Steve laughed softly. “A herculean effort, I’m sure.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

Pepper remembered that conversation clear as day, like it had happened just days ago. Partly because she’d never had to convince someone who was once labelled “Sexiest Man Alive” by Times magazine that he would still be attractive with grey hair, until that strange, strange day, and partly because the method of convincing she’d opted for was… unusual, a little unexpected. But not unwelcome, for sure

(He’d told her as much the next morning, wearing a stupidly lopsided grin, but no shirt)

Washing the dye off her fingers had been a pain in the ass though. She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to letting her color his hair grey. Morgan had shrieked seeing her daddy with “weird hair” (her words), which was not good for the case Pepper was making. But she had eventually warmed up to the new look. She even told Tony he looked nice, of her own accord. After which Pepper had walked in on Tony hugging his daughter and her struggling to get out of the death grip he had on her.

Pepper was snapped out of her reverie when Steve spoke up again.

“Who’s to say he isn’t seeing it, though?”

Pepper blinked. She wasn’t one to space out often, but when she did, she was disturbingly thorough.

“Sorry?”

“Tony, watching us,” Steve took a deep breath, “laughing at me struggling with weak hipbones, watching over you, Morgan, Peter…” He looked down at his mug of coffee, that had long since gone empty

“You never know.”

Pepper couldn’t quite place the look on his face just then. Somewhere between sad and hopeful, she supposed.

“You never know,” she repeated under her breath, more to herself than to him.

Steve heard it anyway, and smiled softly at her, before turning to look at the picture Pepper had framed on the living room wall. A picture of her, Tony, and Morgan, taken at the beach. Morgan was on his shoulders, maybe 3, 4 years old then. His right arm was wrapped around Pepper’s shoulder, her left arm around his waist. All three wore contented smiles, Tony’s and Morgan’s achingly similar.

No Iron Man, no arc reactor, no intense, murderous stare, like the hundreds of pictures that had graced every magazine in existence, for a month after his death.

Just plain, good old Tony Stark. The part of him he kept hidden from the world, reserved only for the people he loved.

It was the only picture that did him justice, Steve thought.

“I wish he could see you now, Pepper,” he turned back to her, half his mouth upturned in a small smile, “see how well his two favorite girls are doing.”

Pepper chuckled, gently placing her hand on Steve’s.

“Oh, he knows,” she nodded, twirling the ring that still adorned her finger.

“I promised him we’d be fine.”

xxxxx

my adhd ass jumping from prompt to prompt: parkour

anyway, thanks for reading

#i hate this website #endgame spoilers #marvel #endgame #avengers endgame #tony stark #pepper potts #pepperony #steve rogers #peter parker #morgan stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel fanfcition #mcu #sam attempts writing

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memyselfandsomefanfiction · 5 years

Text

The Birthday Takeover

Hi, guys!! This is a Birthday Present/Request for @bbparker

HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY BB I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!!

I chose the prompt “Try me and you will loose.” “You’re just a little girl, what can you possibly do?” “Well actually, now that you brought it up, it’s my birthday today and-”

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: ~1,200

Warnings: none that I can think of

Waking up to silence is a rare thing, normally I wake up to the music and chatting of Steve, Nat, Sam, and Bucky, but today I made sure to wake up before everyone else. Making my way to the kitchen double checking that no one is up yet. They’re not. Perfect.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes Miss?”

“Is everything set up and ready for Birthday Takeover?”

“Yes Miss and I must say I am very surprised Boss hasn’t clued in on this yet. Normally he reverses all codes that take away his power over his tower.”

“Ah yes F.R.I.D.A.Y., but the trick to that is to catch him at the right drunkenness and having Pepper on my side.” I sound just a smidge smug as I point out Pepper being on my side for this one.

“Boss does tend to have that weakness, when would you like to execute this code Miss?”

“Now works F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Yes Miss”

I sit patiently on the counter and wait. Then it happens.

BOOM

Ahh the confetti cannons. Then the shrieks of realizing its glitter. I wonder when the realization of it dying their hair will hit(all except for Pepper and Nat of course I don’t have a death wish)?

Now all I hear is everyone running my way. I just sit calmly swinging my feet.

The first to arrive is Bucky he just smiles and shakes his head at me as he scoops me off the counter for a hug.

“Good morning Birthday Girl. What have you done to have Tony’s panties in a wad?”

“I may have accosted him when he was drunk with Peppers permission and got control over F.R.I.D.A.Y. and the tower all day for my birthday.” I replied trying to sound as innocent as possible, but judging by the snort and chuckles I received in reply I don’t think I quite pulled it off.

“Y/N” Tony just absolutely screeches your name.

“Oh my I’ve never heard that pitch come out of his mouth before.” I say with wonder.

Tony came stomping in with a giggling Pepper trailing behind him. At this point everyone else was here and eagerly awaiting the show that was surely about to happen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Why do I not have control over my tower? Why is F.R.I.D.A.Y. not listening to my orders to clean up the confetti and glitter? Last of all WHY IS EVERY SINGLE CODE SAYING YOU ARE NOW IN CHARGE AND OWNER OF EVERYTHING?!?!?” Tony finishes with a shout.

I go to open my mouth and explain but he cuts me off.

“You know what I don’t want to hear it. You’re going to fix everything and then you are benched and on probation and restricted access.”

“See Tony even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I couldn’t do any of those things you just told me to do.” I calmly inform him.

“Yes you will. I am not going to argue anymore.”

“Try it.”

“What?”

“Try me and you will lose.”

“You’re just a little girl, what can you possibly do?”

“Well actually, now that you brought it up, it’s my birthday today and I have a signed contract here with both your signature, Director Fury's signature, and signed and notarized by both Pepper and Natasha. It states that for my birthday I get to be you for the day. In charge of the tower, spend the day with Pepper making appearances and doing meetings you’ve put off, called Boss by F.R.I.D.A.Y., not able to be punished by Fury for this stunt, and best of all you signed and dated that I am allowed to get a puppy. Everything has been Pepper approved and you can’t argue. So Happy Birthday to me from you.” I finish my speech leaning back into Bucky while everyone looks on proud of me and Tony looks just plain dumbfounded. Then he just starts clapping.

“I have never been more proud of anyone in my life. I have been out Starked by someone who isn’t even a Stark. That’s it. I am adopting you once you are not me. You shall be a Stark. It is settled I have decided. Oh by becoming a Stark your old man one armed wonder boy there will have to take your name when you get married. Can’t be losing any Starks, we’re a rare breed. Hmmm maybe I should start making you an Iron Man suit.” I lose track of his mumbles as he wanders to his lab to I assume make me a suit.

“Cool. I am a Stark, I get a puppy, I got his blessing to marry Bucky and he didn’t have me arrested. Job well done. Come on Pepper let's get me all business gorgeous like yourself. I wanna blow some old farts minds. I am gonna take this takeover seriously.” Pepper and I head out to be badass business women of today.

*Bucky’s POV*

Nat is just sitting there like the cat got the cream, Clint and Sam are taking notes on this “prank”, Bruce is calmly sipping his tea like this is normal, Thor looks lost in memories, Loki looks the slightest bit impressed, Peter doesn’t know who to run after the original Stark or his new hero, and poor poor Stevie just looks like his world is turning upside down.

“What just happened?” Steve asks as he just keeps blinking like is he blinks enough it’ll rewind things.

“Well Punk my lovely girlfriend swindled Stark out of everything he owns, made it to where she can’t be punished, finally gets the puppy she’s been visiting at the animal shelter, clearly has Pepper and Nat wrapped around her finger, is now being adopted by Stark to be a Stark, got me Starks blessing to propose, got me to become a Stark, and is now going to take the Stark business by storm arm in arm with Pepper Potts. All because she didn’t want to be bored on her birthday.” I proudly list most of the accomplishments.

“Fuck me now there’s two of them??”

“Language Steve, but yes two Starks and gonna be three once I get a ring.” I chuckle as he just keeps getting paler and paler.

“Come on big guy lets go see how Y/n does today to ease your worries, she could use a couple bodyguards.” Nat gently guides him out of the room.

“Any other questions?” I ask the group before I head out to work out.

Peter raises his hand. I sigh and point at him.

“Umm can I go with Captain and Ms. Romanov? I’d like to spend the day with Y/n. I’m technically an intern for Stark Industries so it wouldn’t be weird.”

“Sure kid she’d love that, be sure to give her a hug and tell her it was your idea. Run along.” I shoo him out.

“Now may I go workout now or does anyone else need anything? No? Good.” I leave the rest of them to deal with the glitter and hair dye on their own.

fin

#bucky x reader #natasha romanov #natasha is a good bro #Tony Stark #happy birthday #adorable peter #cinamonroll peter #fluff #proud tony #pepper potts #sass

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sabine-leo · 5 years

Text

Solid chaos - Part 2

Note: I got a request from @drakesfiance for a fic

Summary: Living in a world were The Avengers exist and save the world repeatedly you find yourself one morning with inhuman abilities of your own. How will your boyfriend Tom react when he get´s back from his audition?

How will he cope with meeting the persons he never dreamed of meetng.

Author: @sabine-leo

Idea of: @drakesfiance

Part: 2 /probably 2

Genre: Angst, Humor, Fluff, Uncertainty, Teasing

Part 2

At least you had made the day for Tom special. He was about to meet Loki in the next few minutes.

A hell, what were you talking about. This day was special to you too, but you were to precarious to let the fact that you were INSIDE the most special building with the most special persons get under your skin.

Banner caught your attention again. “Have you tried to materialize from one place to another?”

Materialize? What?! “No, I.. I was shocked enough to be stuck half in a wall to try what else humanly impossible I could do.” You sighed. “Sorry, that came out rude…My head is dizzy from all that mind spinning.” Tom put his hand on your knee and squeezed lightly.

“You have every right to be rude for a while, darling.”

Bruce laughed a little. “You should´ve seen me as my… Anger issues… just had begun. Although I would advise you not to get on Loki’s nerves too much.” He smiled a half smile and Tony snorted a little. The sliding doors opened up and a rock of a man with blond hair stood in front of you a second later. Thor…

“What´s up with the call Tony? We don´t have another heart to heart on the round table again? Oh, who are these…Oh boy…” Thor only took a second notice of you before standing in front of Tom.

He sized Tom up with a very intense glance. “This is freaky!” Thor boomed and shook his head and turned to Tony. “Don´t you see that? Did you call me because of this?” Tony seemed clueless and shrugged. “Don´t know what you mean Thor, I called you to fetch your brother and bring him here. Where is he now?!”

“Common? Seriously? Don´t you see it?” Thor laughed a little. But then the doors opened anew and a somewhat bored looking Loki came in. Hands on his hips he looked around.

“You needed my presence?” He looked at you. Directly into your eyes and you felt an electric shock inside your head. “Oh…what have we here… You found someone to pass the time with.”

His mischievous smile was some sort of handsome.

Tom stood up and cleared his throat. “Excuse the interruption Mr Loki. God of.. Prince of…”

Oh my, Tom stammered like he was star struck all over again. “This…is.. I mean, she is… I am…”

Loki let his head fall back and rolled his eyes. “Not another stumbling, mumbling court jester. She´ll do to put me out of my misery for a while” Tony had to keep a laugh from escaping him. Bruce came to the rescue.

“Loki, this is Tom Hiddleston the famous actor…and his GIRLFRIEND (Y/N)…” He started but got interrupted by Loki again. “Girlfriend….I see.. haven´t had a decent threesome for a while now but he has to keep his mouth shut!” That was to much for Tony, he collapsed laughingly onto a chair.

Banner looked at you in a silent apology and said. “He has to grow on you…” You looked to Loki again and answered “I can see that!” That made Loki grin and smile. “Sass, I like sass!”

The whole conversation got Tom to put himself together again, even though he had red cheeks and fidgeted around with his glasses a lot. “I´m so sorry, I was a bit..” he laughed and made a step forward “…awestruck I guess.. with you being a god and all that.” A little nervous laugh escaped him.

“I´m Tom and it is so good to finally meet you in the flesh. I think you really were misunderstood all the last years and..” Loki eyed Tom anew and tilted his head. “Maybe not a jester.. maybe another Loki’s Army member.” He teased which made Tom grin.

Thor couldn´t hold himself back any longer. He took his brother and just put him next to Tom as if he weighed nothing or wasn´t someone you´d better not mess around with. Then again, they were brothers and possibly used to manhandling each other. Having Tom and Loki now next to each other he fanned his arms out and leaned back a little. “There… Don´t you see it?!”

“Did you hit your head on your hammer?!” Tony asked as he could stop himself from laughing. Drying the tears that had spilled out of his eyes. “That´s a very good question Stark!” Loki prompted and crossed his arms over his chest, just like Tom did. Thor just threw his hand out to point at those two men and looked exasperated. Bruce narrowed his eyes and stood next to Thor for a second.

“Ah.. I can see what you….nah, sorry.. can´t see anything.” He stated and looked again. Thor just hollered. “They look alike! It´s like they are mirror images of each other.”

Ok, maybe the god of thunder had fried his brain with a little bit too much lightning the last hour?! You joined Bruce and him and looked…really looked. “The are the same height and both lean but otherwise...” You went over to hug Tom and hold onto him. “There is no one like Tom.”

Loki now turned and eyed Tom for a second. “Did you call me here to get fangirled over and have a fashion talk or belittle me because I look like a normal human?” Thor laughed. “HA! You see the resemblance then, brother! Ok, you don´t seem to be alike on the inside, but with a little hair dye, some leather and a bit less stutter he could be your double! It´s like you are a mirror image of each other just with a different …attitude.”

Now Tony stood too and eyed Loki and Tom intensely. “Like a good and a bad version of Loki”

Tom AND Loki both reacted simultaneously “I`m just misunderstood” “He´s just misunderstood”

Their head turned to each other and they grinned. That was just too much for you to handle after the day you had. You thought of fresh air and grass under your feet and…

“(Y/N) ??? where is she gone?!” Chaos erupted inside the conference room as everybody looked around to find you.

Loki bit his lip “Now THIS is interesting!” …and was gone the next second too.

Tom panicked and ran out of the building to stop dead in his tracks as he saw you standing on the grass 15meters away. Loki by your side. A gasp of relief escaped him and he ran to you.

“What was that darling?” he tucked you into his arms.

Loki answered for you. “She just thought of fresh air and grass under her feet, haven´t you you sapid bird?!” You just nodded and closed your eyes for a second and let Toms arms keep you safe. Loki touched Toms shoulder and said a little intensely into your ear. “Think about the conference room. Envision us being back in there… NOW!” Tom was about to say to Loki that he shouldn´t put such pressure on you as he blinked and another gasp escaped him. The three of you were back were you had been just 2 minutes ago.

Loki let go of Toms shoulder and sat down. Putting his feet on the table and leaning back in his chair.

“This is getting very interesting indeed. Even better then a fleeting threesome. This little bird has abilities like I do. I sensed something as I entered the room but got distracted for a moment.”

You had what?

Tom just laughed and kissed your forehead. “You really are my Loki darling!”

Loki discarded that statement with a handwave and asked. “When did the abilities manifest themselves? Who in your family is from Asgard?”

Yeah, that was exactly what you wanted to know.

Tom felt the exhaustion you were feeling and held you close, sitting down he took you into his lap and answered. “This week and we don´t know. We suspect her late grandmother but we don´t know for sure. We have as many questions as you have…probably even more, but (Y/N) is exhausted and I don´t think we.. she is safe in our hotelroom. The man who followed her had an emblem on his jacket.” Tom took a paper and a pen from the table and singlehandedly began to draw the emblem out of his mind. He pushed it onto the table afterwards and saw faces squinch up.

“That can´t be…this looks like HYDRA.” Banner said quietly and took the paper in his hands. Tony snatched it from him and nodded. “HYDRA…You are most definitely not safe in your hotelroom.”

Loki tilted his head and said. “She still has to spread her abilities wings at first, but if her capabilities grow exponential like I think they will…think about the things they could make her do. Thor …think about the things I could do as a child…”

Thor cringed a little and nodded to his brother. “You´ll be under our protection from now on, but you´ll have to learn to harvest and handle your powers quick. And you need to learn to fight!”

Tom looked a bit frightened on your behalf. “I´ll be by her side. Train me too!” He said hoarse.

Tony looked into Loki’s eyes. “As you both seem to have the same lean frame as Thor so unintendedly demonstrated I need you to train him…and her. You know how to handle her abilities best. Bruce and I will hit the lab and try to bring something up like a suit or protection for her. We will probably need to pick your brain about how to build in everything her abilities will need to function correctly.” He took a deep breath as Loki nodded in understanding. “I´ll send Peter to the hotel to collect your stuff. Welcome to the compound, you´ll probably wish you wouldn´t have come in here in 3 days max!” Loki grinned and sat up straight. “That’s a whole different threesome than I imagined at first, but it will be at least as sweaty and exhausting.” He winked at you and Tom.

8 weeks into your training you knew exactly what Loki had meant. Panting you lay down on the padded floor inside the gym. “I yield… Loki…I can´t take anymore for today!” Clad in leather Loki appeared above your head, looking down on you. “This was better than yesterday, but you need to improve your defence on your right-hand side.” He held out his hand and tucked you up.

Tom leaning on a wall in his sportswear nodded.

“I saw the openings quite easily…” Tom and Loki had made a pact it seemed. They wanted to drive you insane…and they were succeeding. But Tom did it out of love and fear of you being defenceless in a fight. Loki on the other hand had just sheer fun to see you crawling out of the gym every day.

“Your turn!” Loki called Tom over and, in an illusion, changed his looks into Toms. You could see the resemblance Thor had pointed out more than once now. But besides that, Tom and Loki were like night and day. You had no problems to tell them apart, even with Loki’s tricks.

“Don´t fight like a gentleman…you know that can get you killed very fast! Fight a little more…mischievously” Loki said as he took his position opposite Tom and drew 2 short wooden katana swords.

Tom held onto his one longer katana and took his starting position. He had learned fast and was good at it. His acting in some period films had him in a little bit of an advantage. Already trained with a sword he could hold of Loki for a while. It was to Toms credit that Loki grinned when he got blocked and fought off more often than not today. Loki enjoyed the sparing with your boyfriend. And if you weren´t that exhausted you would enjoy it a hell of a lot more too. Tom was hot! He moved fast and nimble and just looked insanely at ease fighting a god.

Bruce came in and sat beside you against the wall and watched Loki and Tom going head to head.

“If I wouldn´t be a fan of your boyfriend already I would be now!” he smiled and you laughed.

“You are both coping really well with your situation.” He added.

You smiled and looked at him. “I only cope with it because Tom is at my side. He put his life on hold for me. He put me first…” Bruce looked at Tom and then in your eyes again.

“He loves you invariably... and you love him that way too. It´s pretty obvious to everybody around here that the two of you are one heart in two bodies….one soul…” Bruce had become a friend in your eyes. He always seemed to find the right words. He was a wholeheartedly good person.

“Thank you, Bruce.” You smiled and the both of you cheered as Tom almost…almost put Loki on his back.

When you weren’t in the gym you were in the lab with Bruce and Tony working on your very own armoured suit or in the conference room trying to reconstruct your family and finding out more about your heritage. There were some clues you still had to unravel but it was obvious that your gran had been the one to pass on some extra genes that made you who you were today. Deciding that living in the past wasn´t the way of living you needed these days you stopped investigating in favour of training your abilities and fight skills.

Tomorrow you and Tom would fly back to London for 2 weeks and then come back to the compound again. You needed to gather some things in your home and bring them here to resume your training.

Loki would sporadically show up in London to help you stay focused and as a failsafe security measure. Tom had requested it and Loki was more than willing to escape his daily routine in the compound. After the initial somewhat wrong start the two of them had they became some sort of friends. Tom acting as Loki’s conscience now and then, and Loki training Tom to fight dirtier, play dirtier if need be. He couldn´t change the core of your man, but he could help him accept the chaos that lived even inside him…and embrace it at times.

Laying in bed with Tom after a hot, steamy shower you cuddled up to him and kissed him.

“I can´t say thank you enough!” he looked at you. “For what darling?”

“For loving me, with all my…weirdness, without conditions, for accepting me the way I am.”

Tom kissed you deeply before he answered.

“Love, you are mine…always will be. Nothing will change that! I´ll just have to put a ring on it for the rest of the world to see one day!”

You knew that there wasn´t an obstacle you couldn’t overcome with this man by your side…And the newfound family of extraordinary people here in this compound. Whatever HYDRA had planned for you, they´d better watch out… You were ready to take your life back into your own hands again.

Note: This could be the end...but it don´t has to be...

Tags as aked for: @ markusstraya @saxgirl21 @ confessionsofastrugglingteen

@drakesfiance @everything-is-awesomesauce

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soriseerakyra · 6 years

Text

Nice To Meet You -16-

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her. When the nurse began to shine a light in your eyes to check the response of your pupils, you still didn’t take your eyes off of her. She sat in the visitor’s chair, that had been returned to the far end of your room, back straight and hands gently poised over her rounded stomach. Her bright blonde hair perfectly sitting on her shoulder. She looked like her, you couldn’t deny that, but it wasn’t her, you could tell.

“You’re looking good,” the nurse says with a smile patting you on the shoulder to bring your attention back to her. She didn’t seem to mind that you had been more than a little distracted during her little test. The small cartoonish animal prints littering her scrubs hinted that she was used to dealing with a younger more restless patent.

“You’re a lucky girl,” she continues as she begins to remove your blood pressure cuff. “Such a minor injury and you’ve got visitors pouring into see you.”

You open to your mouth to respond, but “Camille” speaks for you.

“As shy as she is she worms her way into people’s hearts, and once you get in there you can’t stay away from her.”

“You two must be close,” the nurse coos eyes flashing over to the pregnant woman and back to your own.

“Like sisters,” the woman confirms. “I was her first friend when she moved to Gotham, and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since.”

“Is that right?” The nurse asks looking at you for your conversation.

Reluctantly you nod, causing an almost swooning sigh to escape the nurse’s mouth. You tried to keep your face from reflecting what you were actually feeling. How could this thing sit there and pretend that it was Camille, your Camille, so easily? Your eyes run over the familiar form once again. Whatever it was, you had to concede that it had gotten as close to Camille’s appearance as possible. But she was too perfect.

She’d been gone for weeks, so why was her hair still completely blonde? By now her dark brown roots would have begun to protrude through the dye job. Camille escapes and the first thing she does is head to the salon? Bullshit.

“You girls make me want to call one my friends and reconnect.”

“Really?” The thing says with a politely curious smile. “You lost someone.”

“Yeah,” she says collecting her things. “We grew up upstate together, went to high school together and everything. I thought we would go to college together, but her decided to go down south and I stayed home.”

“You didn’t try and stay in touch?” You question, suddenly finding your voice and mildly distracted from the creature.

“Sometimes friends grow apart,” the nurse says with a shrug. “You start off talking every day, then you get busy and its once a week. Midterms and finals hit, once a month. Parties, new friends, and you maybe get the occasional text. Before you know it, your strangers.”

Her eyes drift off somewhere as if a sadness was washing over her, “You girls should enjoy each other while you can, time really does change things.”

“We will, promise,” It says with a smile eyes flickering from you back to the nurse.

You try to give the woman a smile as well, but the effort hurts your cheeks. Your polite effort ends up as this strange half smirk that looks more crazed than pleasing. The nurse furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Um, the doctor should be here in a little while, he should give you the once over and hopefully, you can be discharged today.”

“Great, that means I can take her home.”

“Hopefully, but given her incident this morning, the doctor will likely recommend some sort of psychiatric therapy. I suspect that if we are releasing her into such capable hands as yourself its more likely to be outpatient.”

“That’s wonderful,” It clasps its hands together as if showing it excitement. Its glinting green eyes turn to you, there is something dark about the way Camille’s face is looking at you. “We have so much to catch up on.”

The nurse simply nods her head before dipping out of the room.

Her exit leaves you in a thick heavy silence. What are you supposed to say to whatever it is? And how long would it pretend to be your friend.

“You look tired,” She remarks, looking at you rather warmly, but the look sends a chill down your spine. It looks so much like her that you for a moment you doubt building inside you about your suspicion. “You should rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

She stands rather easily, there isn’t even a wobble around her ankles. Your Camille could barely stand without almost tipping over.

She begins to walk over to you, as if she’s coming to touch you, to comfort you in some way. The muscles in your body tense at the prospect and a feeling of fear begins to roll down your spine. It was a familiar fear, reminiscent of when the butcher when put his hand over your mouth to silence you. You were afraid that if she touched you, you’d once again wake up in some unknown place.

“Can you get me some water?” you blurt out quickly. Luckily for you, your voice had gone somewhat hoarse. “I’m dehydrated.”

She pauses in her step a dark skeptical brow rising, green orbs flickering to your side table where a long empty container of water sat. She purses pink lips that aren’t her own for a moment, showing her irritation before that warm smile pastes itself back on her face. She doesn’t want to cause a scene, and if this was a test she’d could pass it easily.

“Of course, I’ll go see if they can get you another pitcher.”

She walks to the door of the room and slides it open. She pauses before exiting back stiffening as a thought seemingly hits her. Blonde hair whips over her shoulder and her green eyes narrow on your form.

“Don’t move an inch, I’ll be right back.”

You give he a quick nod of your head and content with your answer she leaves.

When the door shuts behind her you find that your shoulders are still tense despite the fact that she is gone. You wait another thirty seconds, until you are sure that she is gone and just not hovering outside of your door. When you’re confident you throw off the thin layers of hospital blankets and run to the door and begin to peek through the small window. You can see her silhouette as she walks away. The sliding door of the small hospital room couldn’t be jammed with a chair. The safest course of action, you determined, would be to hide and wait for the thing pretending to be your friend to leave.

***

He keeps his chin tucked beneath the collar of his leather jacket when he passes the familiar red and blue lights of the police cars sitting outside of the hospital. Even when he was out of uniform, Jason felt the hairs of caution begin to stick up on the back of his neck. As dumb as these cops could be, a part of him was always sure that they were always just one clue away from figuring him out.

It was strange though, the presence of multiple squad cars sitting out in front of the hospital. There was always one or two for safety reasons, but more than that usually meant that there was an active crime scene happening.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself as the thought runs through his mind. His bright blue orbs immediately flash up to the side of the building, eyes finding the floor where the woman was being kept. She just seemed to be a magnet for trouble.

Suddenly, a weight crashes into him, causing him to stumble back slightly.

There is a hiss of annoyance, that comes from the other party that he’d run into. He looks down to see a thin blonde woman. She doesn’t stop to look up at him, and besides the hiss that slips past her lips she doesn’t make another scolding sound. Instead, her steps seem to get more hurried.

‘Rude’ He thinks with furrowed eyebrows.

With a shake of his head he tries to rid himself of the feeling of Irony that begins to roll down his spine.

The doors of the hospital slide open with a hiss and he make his way to the front desk. A portly nurse sits behind the counter and looks up at him with a practiced smile.

“How can I help you today, sir.”

“Yeah, uh, I need a visitor pass.”

“Of course, sir,” He starts, “Room Number?”

“402.”

The man’s fingers pause over the keyboard and he rolls dark eyes up to meet Jason’s with a pointed irritated gaze.

“Oh, her,” He says nearly spitting the pronoun out of his mouth like it was poison.

Instead of being irritated with the man he feels his shoulders roll in slight embarrassment. He had been right. The police presence was here for her after all. Was there not a day she could go without getting in trouble?

“Yeah, uh, what’s going on up there?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” The man starts with his nose slightly flaring out in irritation. “First, she looks herself in her room, and now she’s locked in a supply closet. We’re doing our best to get her out without any problems, but your friend needs help. Mentally.”

He goes the extra mile and uses his finger to make a swirling “coo-coo” motion. Jason feels his lips purse in irritation. For a moment, he thinks about reaching over the desk and punching the guy, but he thinks better of it. If he goes and gets in trouble now, it’ll mean that Bruce will have to come get them both, and he didn’t feel with dealing with him at the moment.

“Listen, why don’t you tell me where the closest is and I’ll get her out of it and take her off of your hands.”

The desk nurse looks at him skeptically, “Technically it’s against protocol to let anyone, family or not, to intervene in a hospital emergency.”

“Believe me, she’s been through a lot and she’s not going to let one of you talk to her,” Jason says trying to reason his way through. However, he wasn’t actually sure that she would talk to him either.

The nurse let’s out a sigh, “This girl. She’s getting all sort of exceptions. First the blonde, now you.”

“What Blonde?” Jason asks, eyebrows furrowing.

The nurse types a few keys on the keyboard, looking up the visitor information.

“It’s says here name was Camille, do you know her?”

Jason stares blankly at the man for a moment, his encounter with the blonde woman just outside of the hospital doors flashing through his mind. His eyes screw shut in anger and his large hands come up to his face to try and rub the tension away. It doesn’t work.

“Uh, are you alright, sir?” The nurse asks with raised eyebrow.

“Can you just give me the stupid key already?!” Jason asks aggressively, hand jutting out to the nurse.

The nurse rolls his eyes.

*****

You supposed you’d been in here long enough. You hadn’t heard it come and try to coax you out of the closet, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t waiting in your room for you. How long would you have before she came before she’d try to take you away? What if she wasn’t the only thing hiding in the hospital? If they took you out of here before you could tell anybody, would they replace you too? How would anyone know to look for you then?

“Hey! Open the door idiot.”

The harsh tone of the voice sent a wave familiarity down your spine. But no sooner then it came did you tense up again. What if they had gotten to Jason too?

He begins to pound on the door and you feel a wave nausea come over you.

“H-how do I know it’s you?” You ask rather nervously.

He stops pounding, seemingly understanding your concern.

“Listen woman,” he starts slightly exasperated. “I saw her on the way out, so I know I what you’re hiding from.”

You pause for a moment. How would a fake Jason act? Would he say something to make you believe that it was the real Jason? Surely, they must have done at least the same amount of research on Jason as they did Camille. But for them to know about their relationship with Jason, wouldn’t they have to know who Jason was? Wouldn’t they have to know who he used to work for.

Your eyes go wide at the thought. Does that means they know about Bruce, about Batma-

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you thinking. Just open the fucking door so I can talk to you,” He says exasperated.

‘Or, I can be overthinking this too much’

The supply closet door has a small sliver of a window, and even though the glass distorted the image, you could still make out the familiar brown leather jacket. You back up with a sigh. If it was Jason, there isn’t really a reason for you not to let him in. You take a minute to look around the dark closet and spot a broom. Grabbing the wooden handle, you bring it close to your body.

‘Just in case.’

Hesitantly, you move the metal folding chair you found from underneath the door. Having heard the movement, Jason wiggles the doorknob, this time finding that he can move it. However, he doesn’t open it. He turns to look behind him at the nurse who were waiting to seemingly pounce on unsuspecting prey. They look at him and nod, as if they were somehow working on the same team. He rolls his eyes.

He opens the door quickly and before anyone can follow behind him he shuts the door. He turns only to be hit in the face, with what feels like…straw?

“What the hell!” He screams looking at you with wide eyes.

You blink looking up at the taller boy, shrinking slightly at his reaction.

“I didn’t want to take a chance that you were like Camille, so I wanted to protect myself. But just in case you were you, I didn’t want to hurt you either, so I hit you with the soft side. To confuse you.”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, before reaching out for the broom. You hand it over to him willingly, feeling slightly like a child being scolded.

“You saw her?” You question.

Quickly calming down and placing the broom down, Jason nods his head.

“She ran into me on the way out. Wasn’t a very good copy though, she wasn’t even pregnant.”

“What are you talking about?” You question furrowing your brows. “The woman I saw was at least eight months pregnant.”

“The one who ran into me outside wasn’t.”

“Are you sure it was her? Did you see her face?”

“No,” he says reluctantly, “And even if I did see her I’m not sure that I would have recognized her. But the check-in nurse said that she had just walked out when I walked in.”

“So, what happened to the baby?”

“There wasn’t one,” he says. “Maybe she had like pregnancy suit on or something”

“No,” you said with a shake your head. “That belly was real, I know.”

“I don’t think humans can drop that amount of weight that quickly.”

You looked at him wide eyes, “Really? What was she then.”

Catching his mistake, he blanches, “Uh, I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

You nod with understanding, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t stay, here Jason. They’ll send someone to get me, like they did at Camille’s house.”

“There a window in here?”

“It’s a supply closet, Jason.”

“So, no?”

“How old are you again?”

He pauses for a moment and shrugs his jacket off.

“Here, put this on.”

You comply slipping the jacket on, “What are we going to do?”

“We’re just going to walk out, but we’re going to do it real fast. The nurse out there are waiting to take you to the psych ward, they even called the cops.”

“Won’t we be breaking some sort of law?”

“Who the fuck cares? You want to stay here or let them take you somewhere?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go.”

#bruce wayne #bruce x reader #bruce imagine #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader

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