#adi does AU-gust

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ceo james rhodes and his sugar baby husband | AU-gust Day 15: Role Reversal AU

AU-gust masterlist

inspired by this tweet

//

When Rhodey steps out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his waist while the other is hanging off his neck so that he can dry his wet hair - Tony is standing in front of the wardrobe, hands on either door as he peers inside with a small furrow in his brows. Specifically - and this was important because it was crucial to point out - Tony is standing in front of his wardrobe.

Rhodey opens his mouth to ask Tony why he's standing in front of his wardrobe when he has a completely stocked wardrobe, full of clothes for him not even a couple inches away, when Tony beats him to the punch.

"Honeybear," he says empathically, with the sort of tone he usually reserves for serious emergencies, "We have an issue."

"Oh?" Rhodey quirks an eyebrow, "Would that issue be that you're standing in front of my closet instead of yours?"

"We need more shirts," Tony continues like he hasn't heard Rhodey, or more likely, that he's heard Rhodey but he's electing to ignore him, "We've run out. I've been seen in all of these."

Rhodey drops the towel around his neck and walks towards Tony, fingers gripping his waist to turn him ever so slightly. "Anthony Stark-Rhodes," he says with ill-disguised amusement, "Allow me to introduce you to your closet with your shirts. Pray tell why I should buy new shirts, when you have an entire closet of shirts to choose from, that fit you I might add."

Tony spins in his arms and pokes Rhodey's chest, "Billionaire founder, CEO and majority shareholder in the largest tech conglomerate in the world." He turns the finger towards himself, "Lowly employee of said tech conglomerate. You can afford it," he finishes with a sniff.

"Besides," his lips curl up ever so slightly and he bats his eyes up at Rhodey with practised innocence, "Wasn't it you who said What's mine is yours?"

"I don't remember that part of our wedding vows," Rhodey say wryly, and wraps uses the grip he has on Tony's waist to pull him close enough to murmur, "and I would wager that sleeping with the boss makes you much more than a lowly employee."

Predictably, Tony blushes, and it's a sight that Rhodey will never tire of. He still remembers the first time that he ever saw Tony - even though it was close to five years ago now. He wasn't meant to be in New York, in fact that he had a Board meeting in Malibu but that fell through, he decided to stick around for a couple more days.

The entire thing was chance - he'd been lounging around in his suite in the Ritz when he decided that he was supremely bored and what was the point of building a state of the art laboratory for his company if he didn't get to use it? Never mind that it was close to one in the morning and no reasonable person should be entering a highly violate workspace.

He grabbed his coat from where it had been thrown on the floor and shrugged it on, and took a left after he exited the elevator to get the concierge desk to hail him a cab. He got an odd look for his request, which made sense because he was James Rhodes, but it was one in the morning - he didn't feel like waking Happy up just because he wasn't able to get a little shut eye.

He could slum it and get into an old-fashioned yellow taxi just like the average american. He wasn't that far removed from society just yet.

(Besides, James vividly remembered a time in his life when he could rub enough coins together to get him more than the public bus. A taxi would do him well - remind him a bit more of his roots)

He made sure to leave an extra couple of notes for the old gentleman that dropped him off at the New York branch of Rhodes Lab, and he hung around the entrance for a couple seconds just to admire the building. When he entered however, the last thing he was expecting was to see someone else already there.

Instinctively, he reached for a gun that wasn't there at the side of his hip - a leftover habit from his days in the military. The man in front of him had his back to James, but even from a distance he was fairly certain that the man was wiry and short - which meant that James could probably take him.

Still -

"Hello?" he called out, and the man in front of him jumped. The beaker in his hand slipped and fell with a crash that echoed in the otherwise empty hall, and when he turned, his face turned ashen. James wasn't focusing on that however, because he was fairly certain that the man in the lab coat standing in front of him was easily the most attractive man he'd ever met.

"Do I know you?" he said gruffly, because looks aside, he was still most likely trespassing and James didn't need a repeat of the Hammer incident, "You do know that this is private property right? I could have you arrested."

If it was possible, the man's eyes grow even wider, and he started frantically looking for something. "I'm not trespassing I promise," he procured an ID card and held it up like a white flag, "I'm an employee of your company - Anthony Carbonell."

The name sounded familiar, James vaguely remembered someone telling him about a recent hire, a Doctor Carbonell who was making waves in his R&D Department - but he'd never had the fortune of meeting the man himself. Still, he took the ID Card with a healthy amount of caution, looking it over to make sure it wasn't faked.

"That still doesn't explain why you're in my lab at one in the morning," he said, passing the ID back, "normal business hours are long over you know."

"I have a permit from my supervisor to work late," Dr Carbonell replied, and it looked that some of the colour is returning to his face, "sometimes ideas just grip me you know? So I lose track of time and I end up staying here anyway, so Doctor Banner made it official. I can have the memo pulled up for you if you want."

He sounded almost smug, and it did something to James that he didn't want to identify just yet so instead he said, "So what're you working on this time?"

Dr Carbonell's eyes lit up, and James felt his heart skip a beat.

(It isn't until months later that he found that that Tony's last name isn't actually Carbonell, but by then Rhodey was past caring. Largely because he had a much better last name in mind for Tony - his)

Tony flicks his nose to grab his attention, "What're you thinking about?" he says in a mulish tone, like he's upset that Rhodey was thinking about anything other than him. As if that was even possible.

"Just about the first day we met," he says softly, "I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."

Tony huffs, even though the tips of his ears turn pink, "I remember thinking that you were going to fire me. I was scared shitless the whole time. I can't believe you were thinking with your dick."

His smile turns lascivious, "Speaking of dicks…" his fingers dance at where the towel is bunched up lightly.

Rhodey snorts, "That is your absolute worst come on. Ever. I know I've said it before, but this definitely takes the prize."

Tony looks up at him guilelessly, at complete contrast to how his hand is steadily loosening the towel around Rhodey's waist, "Are you saying it didn't work?"

Rhodey wants to say yes, to tell him that it didn't work - but then Tony wraps his hands around Rhodey's dick, and Rhodey pulls him onto the bed instead - want curling through him as Tony spreads out under him in complete submission.

"No," he mutters against his neck, "I'm not saying that at all."

Fin

#my writing #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #james rhodes/tony stark #james rhodes x tony stark #adi does AU-gust #role reversal AU #earth 57289 #established relationship #fluff #the barest hints of smut #like its so small #i know nothing about this comics verse #but it just seemed so perfect for this AU #so hopefully you yall enjoy!! #ceo james rhodes and his sugar baby husband

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1000 lives (for you) | AU-gust Day 3: Soulmate AU

AU-gust masterlist

i said i was going to write this literally ages ago, and now ive finally started it!! based on this amazing idea by @silvahhauntah who so graciously let me use it as a muse (im so sorry this took so long) and major s/o to @omg-just-peachy and @redsridinghood for looking this over. this won’t be updated until after i finish AU-gust, but for now -- enjoy!!

//

20 kills // 0 kills

On the 10th of December 1991, the Asset is taken out of cyro, and there is a name on his right wrist.

On the 16th of December 1991, he is sent out to shoot the tyre of a car, and then kill the man and woman inside. 

When he returns to base, there is a boy, no older than 17, chained to the wall of his room, shivering and bravely fighting back tears.

It does not occur to the Asset until much later than these two events are connected. 

The years pass, and the boy becomes the Assistant, and the Asset becomes familiar with the sight of coming back from the mission to see him propped up on a chair, tools out to fix whatever malfunction has presented itself in the left arm.

The Assistant is kind - careful not to hurt the Asset during these sessions. He manoeuvres himself so that the Asset doesn't jostle any wounds sustained in the missions; and when his Handlers aren’t looking, sends a rare smile the Asset’s way. Comforts are rare with HYDRA, and the Asset hoards those smiles like a dragon hoards gold. 

It is frequent and it is familiar and it is comforting in a way that the Asset did not think he could ever feel again — until he makes the mistake of letting his feelings be known.

It is a routine check-up, necessary maintenance before the Asset is sent out to smother a Sheikh with his pillow, and the Assistant is bent over his arm - legs dangling and body contorted in an impossible position. 

There is a screwdriver held precariously between his lips, his hair is pushed back by safety goggles, and the Assistant’s nose is a hair's breadth away from his arm. 

The position means that the Assistant’s ass is presented up in the air, and a HYDRA agent makes the mistake of reaching out and giving it a tap, causing the Assistant to yelp and fall against the Asset’s chest. 

In one swift motion, the Asset reaches for the screwdriver and drives it into the agent’s neck; simultaneously shifting the Assistant behind him in a protective stance. 

“I see your instincts have finally kicked in,” says a voice behind them, and the Asset and the Assistant turn as one, to face an unfamiliar man. From the way he stands tho, the Asset knows that this man is to be their new Handler. 

Pierce, the Asset thinks, reaching back to remember when he was first introduced to the man, Alexander Pierce.

“I must admit,” Pierce continues, “I was worried that I had gotten my hopes up too high. That we might have fried the emotions out of you. I’m glad to see that isn’t the case anymore.” 

“Asset,” Pierce points at the Assistant, “I would like you to formally meet your soulmate, Anthony Edward Stark.” 

/ 

The Asset is no stranger to the Chair, having been subjected to its torture for more years than he can remember.

It is a unique brand of torture, however, to watch the Assistant be subjected to it – to watch his body writhe and shift and undulate against the restraints, desperate to get away from the pain.

He burns with the desire to rip him away from the pain and protect him from it, to hold him in his arms and shield him from the horrors of the world.

Anthony, he mouths out the name, unable to look away as his soulmate cries silently against the gag, Anthony.

They could’ve had a nice life, the Asset thinks, he could’ve made Anthony happy in an alternate universe.

But in this one, he is the fist of HYDRA – and he has brought his soulmate a world of pain by simply existing. 

In front of him, Anthony has stopped moving, falling limp against the Chair, and his Handler, Pierce, has motioned for someone to take off the restraints. 

The Asset wets his lips and opens his mouth in preparation for the gag – but Pierce tsks, walking over and pushing his chin until the Asset closes his mouth.

“No more of that,” Pierce says, “we no longer need to use the Chair to keep you compliant. Not when we have a much more effective method.” 

The Asset watches as Pierce walks over to Anthony, running a gentle hand over his cheek in a way that could be mistaken for affection, had the Asset not known his true nature. 

Anthony stirs under his hand, eyes blinking widely before they settle on the Asset, but before the Asset can do anything, Pierce turns Tony’s face towards him sharply. 

“Your name,” Pierce says slowly, “is Aegis.”

Anthony mouths the words back blankly, and a look of satisfaction crosses Pierce’s face. 

“You are the property of HYDRA,” Pierce continues, and then turns Anthony’s face back towards the Asset, “and you are to be his leash.” 

An agent moves forward suddenly and injects Anthony with something that makes his back arch, head thrown back in a silent scream.

“What did you do to him?” the Asset asks, before he can hold his tongue, “What did you inject him with?”

 “It is not for you to be concerned about Asset,” Pierce says smoothly, moving aside so two men can drag Anthony away, “All you must remember is that from now on – if you fail at your missions, your soulmate will be punished for it.” 

“Now, I believe you have a Sheikh to kill?” 

tbc

#my writing #buckytony #winteriron #bucky barnes x tony stark #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky x tony #bucky/tony #adi does AU-gust #soulmate AU #1000 lives (for you) #1000 lives (for you) AU #angst #this is a multichaptered fic #and most of it is written #but because im doing AU-gust im not going to be posting anymore until after its over #because it just wouldn't make sense you know #anyway you can subscribe to it on ao3 in case ur worried about missing an update #this isn't particularly long but im adding a read more just in case anybody needs it

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princely duties | AU-gust Day 9: Royalty AU

AU-gust masterlist

i know this is a bit late but ive been really busy all of yesterday and today. but it’s here now so enjoy!!

“Royal balls are such a bore, aren’t they?” (from this prompt list)

//

Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of the Realm of Asgard, Brother of Loki the Silvertongue, son to Frigga the Kind and Odin the Great, was known for a great many things.

 He was known for his great looming stature, stranding tall and proud even for an Asgardian, with muscles that rippled and tensed as he walked. He was known for his illustrious hair, a thick blond mane that he'd taken a vow to never cut, braided and cascading down his shoulders in thick waves. He was known for his might on the battlefield, for the terror he struck through the heart of his enemies when he called lighting itself down to rain fire on those who dared oppose him.

 He was known for being a gentle prince, for always having an ear open and the time for a pitcher of ale. He was known for the bond he had with his brother Loki - how the two of them had curled around each other at birth, his tiny fist clenched around his brother's equally tiny pinky, and never let go.

 But more than any of that, Thor Odinson was known for never taking a Consort, in all his years.

"Mother," he says in a tone that attempts to belie how frustrated Thor was that the topic of discussion was yet again, his potential marriage, "I do not want a consort. I need no person by my side. I am perfectly equipped to lead Asgard on my own. What use do I have of a snake who's only wed me for the sake of climbing the social ladder?"

 "Thor!" Frigga admonishes, even as Loki attempts to disguise his smile behind his pitcher, for their mother's sake more than Thor's. "I've raised you better than to talk like that."

Thor shrugs, biting into the wild boar that the Brothers Three had hunted earlier in the day, "It's the truth Mother, and you know it as well as I. I'm to sit on the Throne of Asgard, I cannot reasonably believe that anyone who sits by me is there because of me and not because of what I represent."

 "I certainly didn't marry your father because he was to be King," Frigga says, and Thor instantly feels guilty for his words, even though he makes no move to take them back, "and someone out there will do you the same courtesy. You just have to be open to the possibility."

 Next to him, Loki chokes on his food, and Thor extends a leg to kick him into submission. He didn't need his Mother to know of his various proclivities. The fact that she suspected he had multiple partners warming his bed at night was more than enough.

 "You should listen to Mother Thor," Loki wheezes, his voice raspy from the coughing fit, "It's always good to be open to opportunities. You never know who might be the right fit."

Frigga beams at Loki, and Thor manfully resists the urge to pull a childish face at his brother.

 "Enough of this talk" Odin booms, and both Thor and Loki turn as one to face their Father, "You have had many a year to find a Consort of your own, and you choose to squander your time. It is unbecoming of the Crown Prince to be unmoored, and it is only proper that you find a Consort. Since you continue to be a child and dig your heels in about this, we shall go about this the old-fashioned way."

 Odin fixes his one good eye on Thor, "There will be a ball in the Palace, a week from now. People from all over the Nine Realms shall be invited, and by the end of the night - you will have chosen someone to court."

 "And if I don't?" Thor asks bravely.

 "Then I will not name you my Heir."

/

Thor pulled at the ends of his sleeves, shifting this way and that in front of the expansive mirror in his chambers. It wasn't that he was a stranger to the need to put on garments from the more extravagant side of his armoire, but he'd never quite gotten used to it.

 He much preferred being in his breeches and covered in mud, sweat and blood. Being a warrior was in his blood, when he felt rooted and centred, and everything else felt like a farce.

 There's a knock on his door but before he has so much as say, "Come In!", Loki has turned the knob and extended his own initiation.

"Had you been anyone else," he huffs, looking at his brother's reflection rather than turning to face him, "I would've had you beheaded for the arrogance to enter my chambers without my permission."

"Now that's not true," Loki says demurely. There's a flash, and where Loki was standing, is an image of his last bedpartner, a shapely woman with brunette hair that curled around her shoulders.

"Had I been this fair maiden," he continues, and even though the voice is feminine, it is still distinctly Loki, "I don't imagine I would've been mistreated so."

 "I don't imagine you would be amenable to taking my cock in your mouth either," Thor says dryly, and Loki shudders predictably at the thought, "there's always exceptions to the rules." There's another flash, and Loki is back in his true form - glaring at Thor.

 "You always take the fun out of everything," Loki says mulishly, "I didn't need to know what you and she did together in these rooms."

 Thor shrugs, because as much as he loves his brother, he is not in the mood for a battle of wits tonight. Loki must realise this, because he softens, and walks over to place a reassuring arm on Thor's shoulders.

 "If all else fails Brother," he says in complete seriousness, "I can always seek off to Jotunheim and light a fire under their asses, create enough destruction so that you may use War as an excuse to delay your search of a Consort."

Despite himself, Thor chuckles and leans his head against Loki's hand, "you would do that for me Brother?"

"I would," Loki nods, "It wouldn't be a hardship too. I've always wanted to know whether Frost Giants would truly melt under fire or they just look ice-y."

 "When I am to be King," Thor says, reaching for his cloak, "Remind me never to allow you to meddle in foreign affairs."

Loki makes a face, like he wants to disagree, but can't find a good enough response for Thor's statement.

 The Palace itself is resplendent, and it is clear that Mother has gone all out for the special occasion. Thor ordinarily would've loved it, had he not known what the purpose for tonight's ball was. A quick scan of the crowd proved that Father had indeed not been lying - people from all over the Nine Realms had attended. In the corner of his eye, Thor thinks he recognises the familial glimmer of Frost Giant magic, so he nudges Loki with his shoulder and points surreptitiously.

 "You might get your desire after all brother," he says in a whisper, "It appears that Laufey has sent ambassadors of his own for tonight's ball."

"Now wouldn't that be a scandal?" Loki murmurs back, "if you were to take back a Frost Giant tonight? Maybe you should just to piss Father off."

 Across the room, Mother is gesturing for Thor to mingle, and with a sigh - he bids Loki his leave and walks more purposefully into the hall, greeting guests of all manner. He even takes a couple of women for a spin on the dance floor, dipping them and flipping them and engaging in polite conversation before he begs off.

 It goes on for close to an hour, until the monotony threatens to rot Thor's brain, and he hides away in a corner of the ballroom with a pitcher of ale, hoping that the shadows will provide him some break before his princely duties restart.

 "Royal balls are such a bore aren't they?" says a voice next to him, and Thor jumps. He turns and his voice gets caught in his throat, because standing next to him with a cheeky smile, is possibly the most attractive person that Thor has ever laid his eyes on, in all of his years of existence. 

 "It's been a while since I've been to one," the man continues, oblivious of the thoughts currently running through Thor's head, "but I somehow convinced myself in Nidavellir that I missed this whole dog and pony show." He wrinkles his nose, and Thor is overcome with the urge to reach out and kiss it, "I can't tell if it's comforting or depressing that I've been proven wrong."

 “You were on Nidavellir?” Thor says, his tongue feeling like lead in his month, “I wasn’t aware that Eitri let anyone visit the star?”

“Ah but I’m special," the man says, and there's a twinkle in his eyes, "Besides I wasn't visiting. I was there to learn." He extends a hand, and Thor reaches out to grasp it on instinct, noting how small it looks in his, "Anthony Starkison. But my friends call me Tony."

 "Thor Odinson," Thor hasn't let go of his hand yet, "I'm afraid my friends don't have many creatives names for me. Although my brother does call me a brute and an idiot on occasion."

 "I know who you are," Tony says, and it’s a simple statement, yet Thor feels a shiver run through him. Perhaps Father's inane idea of hosting a royal ball, wasn't so inane after all.

 Fin

#my writing #thortony #thunderiron #thor odinson x tony stark #thor odinson/tony stark #thor/tony #thor x tony #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Royalty AU #Asgardian Tony Stark #meet cute #pre slash #princely duties #i have wanted to write more for this pairing for AGES #and now i finally have!! #so enjoy please

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frequent (emergency room) flyer | AU-gust Day 6: Hospital AU

AU-gust masterlist

i wrote this a while back, and a couple of people seemed interested in more, so here is another piece in that AU. tagging @m-e-i-c-h-a-n, @severelytinyeagle and @warmachinesocks (who was the original prompter) and im sorry if you asked for a continuation and didn’t get tagged. note: this can be read a stand-alone fic (but reading the original ficlet will help)

I’m begging you, please help me out here and get me something edible, I’m so tired of hospital food (from this prompt list) 

//

After his first visit, Bucky isn't expecting to see Tony again. Despite how garish the burns had looked on his arms, the actual injury itself had thankfully not been that bad - and Tony only needed to come in one more time for a check in, just to make sure everything was healing well. It was a short visit, nothing to write home about and Bucky privately wished that the injuries had been a bit more severe.

Not too severe, because he didn't want Tony hurting himself, but severe enough that it warranted a couple more visits. Of course he kept that particular inclination to himself, because it wasn't normal to want your crush to be hurt and it was unbecoming for a doctor to want an injured patient, but it was there - in the back of his mind.

When Steve pages him a month later and tells him that he's got a repeat customer, and he ducks into A&E to see a familiar mop of hair; he's secretly pleased.

"What are we looking at?" he asks Steve, holding his hand out for the chart. Steve passes it over with a grim face, "His roommate brought him in. He was unconscious. Apparently he's been locked up in his lab for the past week, and when his roommate went to check on it - he was slumped against his desk. We managed to get him conscious again, and it looks like a case of a lack of food and drink."

Instantly, Bucky regrets the way he felt when he first found out that Tony was back in A&E. He nods sharply at Steve, and pulls back the curtain to see a pale Tony on the bed, and a black kid who can't be more than a few years older than Tony standing near the side of the bed.

"Bucky!" he croaks when he looks up, lips stretching out into a wide smile. He pulls at the black kid's sweater, "Rhodey look - it’s Bucky!"

"I can see that Tones," Rhodey says in a wry tone, and holds his hand out for Bucky to shake. "James Rhodes, but this punk likes to call me Rhodey."

"Doctor James Barnes," he says back, "also cursed with a bestfriend who gives out terrible nicknames. You must be James the original."

Tony gives him an indecipherable look, "You remembered."

Bucky can't tell him that he's played the weekend that Tony was in the hospital in his mind on repeat, revisiting the memories like they’re treasure, so instead he clears his throat and asks, "So what brings you to my neck of the woods this time?"

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but Rhodey beats him, "He doesn't know how to eat. Don't even start with me Tones you know it's true. Doctor," he turns to Bucky with pleading eyes, "maybe you can knock some sense into him. Explain to him that human beings need sustenance three times a day and they can't survive on coffee and ramen."

Bucky frowns, "You've only been having ramen and coffee? Tony you need vitamins, you need protein. While it's possible that you just fainted because of hunger, I'm going to keep you around for a couple of days. Run some tests to make sure you haven't given yourself scurvy."

His lips twist into a pout, and Bucky has to tamp down the urge to lean down and kiss it off his face. "This is all your fault," he glares at Rhodey mulishly, "I'm stuck in a hospital instead of at my lab like I should be. All you had to do was splash some water on me and this whole thing could've been avoided."

"I did, you didn't wake up" Rhodey says, obviously not rising to Tony's bait. He oddly reminds Bucky of himself, back when Steve wasn't a hunkering man made of muscles and Bucky had to wrestle his four foot ass in bed because he couldn't go five steps without dissolving into a coughing fit. "Besides, what're you complaining about? Now you've got all this free time to ogle at the doctor you've been talking my ear off about for a month."

Tony's cheeks pink, and Bucky excuses himself before he does something he's going to regret.

(Like find out exactly what Tony's been saying about him to his bestfriend)

/

Thankfully, Tony doesn't seem to have any serious illnesses apart from a mild case of dehydration and malnutrition; but Bucky keeps him under observation to be sure just in case. He's heard horror stories of students cracking under the pressure at MIT and almost starving themselves to death, and he's got a special interest in making sure that Tony doesn't become one of those horror stories.

Besides, he's fairly certain that Tony can afford the medical bills.

The downside of Tony not being at high risk of death is that Bucky can't justify visiting him often. So he does the next best thing, he assigns Steve to Tony. It's standard hospital procedure to have a nurse dedicated to their VIP patients, and it soothes something inside Bucky to know that Stevie is looking out for him.

What he fails to take into account, is the fact that Steve and Tony are remarkably similar people, and are therefore bound to clash.

"I can't take it anymore!" Steve bursts into his office, interrupting what was promising to be an extremely rewarding fifteen minutes of sleep at his desk, "He's so - UGH!"

Steve tugs at his hair, and Bucky gestures at the couch in his office, wincing when Steve slumps against it face-first.

"Use your big boy words Stevie," he says in what he hopes is a calming tone, "Who's got you so worked out?"

"Your ickle Tony," Steve props his head up and says in a scathing voice, "Is the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. It's like he wants to die. I don't know what you see in him Buck, honest to god, he drives me crazy."

"What did he do?"

"He refuses to eat!" Steve moans, but when he notices the expression on Bucky's face he backtracks a little, "He eats, but like ridiculously small amounts. His tray is never empty, and one time - I even caught him shovelling food under his plate to make it look like he'd eaten it. The kid is going to kill himself if he goes on like this."

Bucky wants to go over there right now, but he's got patients that can't wait. "I'll visit him after my rounds today," he promises, "find out what's going on."

When he enters the suite that they've put Tony in, he's in the middle of a very heated conversation on his phone. His skin is no longer pale, flushed full with colour, but he's still too skinny for Bucky's comfort.

"No Pep I -" he looks over when the door slides open, and his face transforms into a smile, "Bucky! Pep, let me call you right back."

Whoever it is on the other line is clearly not happy about Tony cutting the line on them because he hears the beginning of what sounds like yelling - but Tony ends the call before they can get anywhere. He cocks his head and bats his eyes at Bucky, "What can I do for my favourite doctor?'

"I'm your only doctor Tony," Bucky says with a chuckle, "Nobody else is willing to treat you." It isn't a lie, but it isn't the complete truth either. Bucky is Tony's only doctor, but only because he put dibs on any future Tony related visits. So it wasn't that nobody else was willing to treat Tony, it was more that Bucky wasn't willing to let anyone else treat Tony.

"So, what's this I hear about you not eating food? Keeping you under observation for malnutrition is counter-productive if you're not eating Tony." Tony frowns at that, his face twisting like he's had something sour.

He hears out and clasps Bucky's hands, looking up at him with wide eyes, "You have to help me. You gotta get me out of here. They keep trying to make me eat hospital food," he says 'hospital food' in a hushed tone, like he's worried Stevie is going to jump out with a tray and shove it down his throat.

(Knowing Stevie, it was completely possible)

"Tony," he says gently, "You have to eat. It's for your own good. You're dangerously low on vitamins and protein, and if we don't get that stuff in your system you could be running the risk of serious illness. Then you'll be shackled to a hospital room for the rest of your life, with no choice but to eat hospital food."

Tony contemplates that for a second, brows furrowing in concentration. "Okay, how about a compromise? I'll eat hospital food, two times out of the day, if you smuggle me in a cheeseburger for lunch."

"How about this? You eat hospital food all times of the day, and I'll buy you a cheeseburger when we discharge you?"

"You mean like a date?" Bucky suddenly becomes intimately aware that Tony is still holding his hand, "You asking me out on a date Doc?"

Bucky wants to say no, he knows that he's supposed to say no, but what comes out is, "Not yet."

Tony's face twists at that, before smoothening out in comprehension, "It's because I'm your patient isn't it. There's rules about this stuff, ethics or whatever."

"I could lose my license over it," Bucky admits, "not to mention that you're still in college."

"I'm a master's student," Tony says breezily, "I'm older than I look. I turn 22 this May. So how long?" Bucky makes a quizzical noise at him and he explains, "How long until it's okay for you to date a patient?"

"6 months," Bucky rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, "There's a bit of debate on it, but six months is pretty standard."

Tony nods, "I can do six months. I can wait six months."

"You have to stay out of the hospital for six months," Bucky says weakly, "No malnourishment, no lab accidents, you can't even get a scrape on your elbow, otherwise I could get written up."

"I can do that," Tony says confidently, and Bucky knows that he should talk him out of it, but he smiles toothily at Bucky, and he's gone, "I can wait six months for you. Can you?"

"Six months," Bucky says back, and it feels like a promise.

Fin

#my writing #buckytony #winteriron #bucky barnes x tony stark #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky x tony #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Hospital AU #doctor bucky barnes #mit era #fluff #implied/referenced bad eating habits #age difference #pre slash #hopeful ending #frequent (emergency room) flyer #i know this was much later than usual #but exams and deadlines are catching up w me #so AU-gust will be delayed for a couple days

[ad1thi]

proof of life | AU-gust Day 10: Pirates AU

AU-gust masterlist

you told me you were a pirate and i didn’t believe you. you got angry and stormed off somewhere. yeah i know, i offended you but iS THAT ANY REASON TO KIDNAP ME AND PUT ME ON YOUR SHIP JUST TO PROVE YOUR POINT??? (from this prompt list)

for @welovetonystark

//

Admiral James Rhodes was the proud Commander of the most impressive Fleet that the American Navy has ever seen. Colloquially, his fleet was known as War Machine, because of their impressive firepower. His ships were outfitted with the best cannons, and he had good crews working under him - men and women with good heads on their shoulders, instilled with duty to God and country.

 He was directly responsible for hundreds of sailors, and while James wore his lapels at the front of his chest, things like this took a toll on a person, weighing them down until they just needed to unplug. Which is why he was here, clad in only his breeches and a loose shirt - his pistol left at home and armed with nothing more than a small dagger strapped to the inside of his boot; nursing a pitcher of ale.

 The tavern that he'd found himself in was in the rougher side of town, frequented by Maidens and their patrons, littered with men that ordinarily, James would be writing up and throwing into the dark side of a cell. But these were not ordinary times, and James was here to forget his job, not act on it.

The Iron Man is a favourite of pirates in particular, and James knows that he's taking a huge gamble by drinking here. It's very possible that the few members of the crews he's raided over the years might recognise him and cause trouble - but he has a deep-seated need to be removed from his life; one that rivals his desire to not find himself on the business end of the wrong person's pistol.

"You don't look like you're from around here," James turns to face the man who's settled down next to him, blinking lazy eyes as he takes in his figure. The man is dressed like James, breeches and a loose shirt that's tucked at his waist and accentuates his hips, curvy and shapely. He's got a heavy mop of brown hair, and when James brings his gaze back to the man's face - bright hazel eyes blink back at him.

"I'm not," James says after a couple of seconds, "Looking to escape my usual haunts."

"Ah," the man says, waving down the barsmaid, "then you've picked the right place. I'm Tony Carbonell." James takes the proffered hand, with the intent to shake it, but at the last second - brings it up to press his lips to the back of his palm, as if Tony is a dame that he's courting.

From the way Tony's cheeks heat, he might as well be. "James," he offers back, "no last name."

Tony's eyes twinkle, and he leans in much closer, close enough that James can feel his breath against his neck, "Oh honey, for the things I want to do with you," Tony's gaze travels down his body, not similar to how James had looked at him not a couple seconds ago, and James feels a familiar heat gather in his core, "we don't need last names."

"Awful forward aren't you?" James remarks, even though he knows that he's going to leave with Tony.

"It pays to be forward in my line of work," Tony leans back, hopping off his stool and extends his hand towards James, "so are you coming?"

James debates blowing him off, but then he catches the curve of Tony's backside in his breaches - and the decision is made for him, really.

Later, when they're naked, and sweaty, and there's a map of clothes leading back to them - James turns to Tony and asks, "so what line of work requires you to be so forward?"

"I'm a pirate," Tony huffs back with a smile, " 's how I can pay to keep the Iron Man open."

"You're a pirate?" James says incredulously, giving Tony a slow once over, "That line work for you often?"

He never gets to hear Tony's reply though, because a couple of seconds, he falls into a blissful sleep.

/

The first thing that James notices when he wakes, is that there's a bag over his head. This is instantly suspicious. The second thing he notices is that his arms are bound behind his back, and when he tugs at his wrists, he thinks he recognises the scruff of rope. The third and final thing that he realises, is that he is no longer on land, because he can hear the sound of water connecting with the hull of a ship.

 It's enough for him to put together a rather grim picture of where he might be, and he starts tugging at his wrists with more purpose - hoping to loosen the rope enough to reach down for the knife in his bootstrap.

 "You're awake!" says a familiar voice, and James instinctively flinches when the bag is ripped off his head. He blinks a couple of times, adjusting to the sudden light, but his jaw slacks when he focuses on the person standing in front of him.

 "Tony?" he says, flabbergasted, and Tony nods, looking oddly gleeful.

"You said you didn't believe that I was a pirate," Tony gestures around him to what, looks like a pirate ship James realises with horror, "so I decided to give you a chance to see for yourself how wrong you were."

Next to Tony is a tall blonde, leaning over Tony's shoulder with one hand perched on her pistol. His first mate, James' mind supplies, and he dimly wonders what Gods he must've pissed off to get into bed with a pirate.

 "I have a small confession to make," Tony continues, oblivious of James' thought process, "My name isn't actually Tony Carbonell. It's Tony Stark, as in -"

"- of the Stark Family," James finishes, "I recognise the name."

"I thought you might Admiral," the surprise must register on James' face, because Tony's grin goes wider somehow, "no last name my ass. You're Admiral James Rhodes."

 "Tony!" his first mate hisses, "Are you trying to get us killed? I can't believe you kidnapped an Admiral just to prove a point! Of all the stupid things you've done…" she trails off, and Tony honest to god pouts.

 Anthony Stark was not an unfamiliar name in the waters. The Stark family were notorious for their ruthlessness, their ships outfitted with weapons that surpassed even James' own - and they were infamous for never leaving any witnesses. James had lost many a good men to the pursuit of even the barest description of what the new Head of the Stark fleet looked like, and now James was sitting in front of the man, arms tied behind his back - a few mere hours after he'd bed him.

 Whatever preconceived notions James had formed when he first realised that he was on a pirate ship were swiftly thrown out, because it was one thing to be a captive of a pirate ship, and another to be captive on a Stark ship.

 In front of him, Tony is still arguing with his First Mate.

 "All the work we've done to conceal your identity!" she's yelling, "and you spread your legs for the first pretty Admiral that smiles your way?"

"In all fairness," Tony concedes, "I didn't actually know he was an Admiral at the time. Besides Pepper, what would you have me do now? Kill him? He's not a foot sailor, I can't exactly toss him overboard and expect no retribution."

 Tony turns to James, and clutches his chin - lifting his face up for Pepper to see, "Look at how pretty he is. It would be a loss to all of mankind if I just gutted him."

"If you kill me," James pipes up, because the topic of discussion is his possible execution, "you will feel the wrath of the entire United States Navy if I wash up dead."

Pepper scoffs, "If we kill you sweetheart, nobody would ever find your body." She kills at him like he's dim for even suggesting otherwise, and James resumes tugging at his wrists, if only to give him the semblance of not giving up.

 "We won't be killing you," Tony says loudly, sending Pepper a significant look, "and you can stop tugging at your wrists. I tied you up myself, you aren't getting out of those anytime soon. Plus," he pulls out James' knife and James feel the last of his hope vanish, "I've already taken your knife for my own."

 "If you aren't going to kill me, what exactly is it that you plan to do with me?" Rhodey asks, growling with Tony reaches out to touch him again.

 "I haven't decided yet," Tony says, with the air of someone who's choosing what their next meal will be, "but I'm sure we'll find some use for you yet."

  "That doesn't sound very reassuring."

 "Chin up babe," Tony clucks, "and look around. There's worst pirate ships to find yourself captive on." He claps his hands, and leans down to press a kiss on James' cheek, "we're going to have so much fun together."

 Fin

#my writing #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #james rhodes x tony stark #james rhodes/tony stark #rhodey x tony #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #proof of life #pirate tony stark #admiral james rhodes #first mate pepper potts #meet cute #meet ugly #i deviated slightly from the prompt #but the essence is still the same

[ad1thi]

no place like home | AU-gust Day 7: Childhood Friends AU

AU-gust masterlist

“We were childhood friends but since you moved, we haven’t been in contact in years. And my family keeps bugging me about dating, so I lied and said I was in a relationship with you. But all of a sudden you come back to visit and I don’t know how to tell you, that everyone thinks we’re dating.” AU (x)

for @iam93percentstardust, this is compliant to s2.12 Profiler, Profiled. so please watch out for the content of this episode. 

//

Derek Morgan would like it to be noted, penned down in ink, carved into stone, that he loves his family. It's important that there's a record of a point of his life when he adored his sisters, because right now, all he feels is annoyance and rage, and is weirdly sympathising with the UnSub they're investigating, a man who kills younger sisters.

 "Desiree," he says for what feels like the tenth time, "I'm fine. I'm happy. I don't need to meet your friend Savannah. Matter of fact, I don't need to meet anyone, because I'm not on the market for anyone. Why can't you trust me when I'm telling you I'm happy?"

"Derek," Desiree's voice seems significantly more whiney over the phone, "You forget that I know you. That job of yours is killing you, and I just want you to be happy. Why are you against meeting her? I'm not asking you to knock her up, just meet her for dinner."

 Her voice takes a suspicious tone, "Are you seeing someone Derek Morgan? Is that why you're so against this?"

Derek opens his mouth to explain that no, he isn't seeing anyone, he's just content with his life as it is right now, but a commotion in the bullpen distracts him. He looks over to see Hotch opening the door to someone, must be the new recruits. He squints, trying to get a feel for the flesh blood, and what comes out is, "Spencer?"

In his ear, Desiree squeals, and he remembers with rapidly growing horror that his sister is still on the phone. "You're getting Spencer?" her voice gets progressively higher pitched, "I had no idea you guys reconnected! When did that happen?"

Derek means to explain, but he's so tired of trying to convince his sisters that he's better off single - which is how he ends up coming up with his half-cocked story about how he met Spence in D.C a couple months and they'd been seeing each other. He keeps the details purposely vague because his mind is wrapping itself around the fact that tiny Spencer Reid is in his office at Quantico.

 (and that he's no longer tiny anymore)

 "I always thought you guys would end up together," Desiree says speculatively, "but then Spence moved to Nevada. Did you know that Ma and Mrs Reid had bets about when you guys were going to get your heads out of your asses. Oh, she's going to be so happy that you guys reconnected."

"No!" Derek says loudly, causing Elle and Gideon and look up, "Desiree, listen to me very carefully - you cannot tell Ma." Lying to his sister was one thing, Derek was not about to lie to his Ma.

 "Why not?" Desiree asks plaintively, "she'll be so happy about this Derek you know it. Plus, she already knows Spencer, so it's not going to be a huge shock for her."

"I just," Derek fumbles for words, "I want to be the one to tell her okay? And I want to do it proper, bring him back to Chicago, the whole nine yards. This isn't something that I want to do over the phone. Can you respect that?"

"Okay," Desiree huffs, "but you owe me."

 The knot inside his stomach loosens. In the bullpen, Hotch is waving him over, "Desiree I have to go, I think there's been an update in our case. I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay, but I expect details!" she says, but he's already stepping outside Gideon's office and climbing down the stairs.

 "Hey," he says when he gets closer, tapping Gideon's shoulder, "Thanks for letting me use your office. My sister does not like to be ignored. I appreciate it man."

"Not a problem," Gideon gestures for Spencer to come over, and Derek notices the minute Spencer recognises him, "Derek Morgan this is -"

" - Spencer Reid," Derek finishes, unsure of whether he could open his arms for a hug or settle for a single handshake, "As I live and breathe."

 "Actually," Spencer ducks his head, "It's Doctor Spencer Reid now. I got my PhDs a couple years back. Derek Morgan? As in..?" he trails off, and its soothing that Spencer is just as unsure of how to approach this as he feels.

Gideon gestures between them, "Do you guys know each other?"

Derek decides to take the first step, and throws his hand around Spencer's shoulder, the way he used to when they were kids, "We grew up together. I've known Spencer since he was a kid in diapers."

 "I thought you were from Nevada," Elle pipes up from next to them, and Spencer answers, "We moved when I was 15. But I was from Chicago before that."

He looks up at Derek with warm fondness, "Derek was there when I graduated from highschool. He was there for most of it."

 "Hell, yeah I was. So, PhDs huh? Plural? Wanna tell me about that?" Derek asks, but before the conversation can go anywhere, Hotch interrupts them. "I hate to break this up, but we've got an update on the case."

 The shift in the group is remarkable, even amongst the newest members. Derek shifts everything out of his mind, including his conversation with Desiree.

 Looking back, that was probably where the trouble started.

 /

 Holding cells are not unfamiliar territory for Derek. He's been inside more than he can count, all over the country. They're all the same, four drab walls and a window or two shackled with bars, and a one-way mirror so that you can look at yourself. Ostensibly, it's so that interrogations can be witnessed by other officers, but Derek thinks they have a more important purpose - they force the perp to face themselves, to look themselves in the eyes with the knowledge of what they've done.

 He's seen hundreds of holding cells. He's just never been the person they're trying to keep in a holding cell.

 (Actually, that’s a lie, but Derek lies to forget that part of his life. There's nothing about that period of his life worth remembering)

 "Derek Morgan," the doors open to reveal Gordinski, and Derek fights the urge to introduce Gordinski's face to his fist. What was the man thinking, arresting him outside his Ma's place? How was he going to explain this to her?

 "Did you get any sleep?" he asks, carrying a beefy file with him. "Slept like a baby, myself. Didn't even want to get out of bed."

"Really?" Derek cocks an eyebrow, "So that wasn't your donut-eating ass on the other side of the glass all night?"

Gordinski ignores him, which is expected, because he's a shit cop, and barrels on with the witch-hunt that he's concocted in his head.

 "Whose grave is this?" he asks, shoving a photo in front of Derek's face.

"Have you been following me?"

Gordinski presses like he hasn't heard Derek, "Whose?"

"I don't know his name," it was the truth. Nobody had known the kid's name. But Derek had looked down at his still body and seen his own face staring back - and it never sat right with him.

"But you led the collection," Gordinski switches out the photo for more of him at the grave, "And you visit him a lot."

"Everytime I come home," Derek isn't ashamed of that, but he has no idea where Gordinski's going with this, "What, you got a crush on me all of a sudden?"

 Gordinski's face twitches, and mentally Derek tallies it. Derek:1, Gordinski: 0, he thinks to himself, but is careful to keep his face blank. There's no need to give Gordinski more ammo than he already has.

 There's a new photo in front of him, and Derek's brow furrows, "Okay that's me at the youth centre, tossing a ball around with a couple of kids."

"You did a little more than that," Gordinski's alluding to something, but for the life of him, Derek can't figure out what, "This is about you giving one of them a ride home, one of the boys."

 Terror creeps into Derek, surely? - "Yeah I did. This kid named, um, Damien. His place was on the way to my mother's."

Gordinski puts down a final photo in front of him, and when Derek sees what it is, he thinks that there should be some sort of law against Gordinski being this smug about a crime scene photo. "Damien Walters," he jabs at the photo, "D O A."

 Oh fuck.

 "Fuck," Derek says out-loud, "someone killed him."

"Not somebody Derek," and with sudden clarity, Derek understands what Gordinski's getting at. "You think I did this?"

Gordinski opens his mouth to reply, probably to read him his rights, but there's a knock on the door - and he excuses himself, radiating smugness.

 "Fuck," Derek says again, out into the empty cell, listening to it echo against the walls.

 /

 The door swings open again, and Derek stands up, fully expecting it to be Hotch. When Spencer steps in however, he loses all of his steam, sagging back down against the desk.

 "Spence," he says in a long huff, "What're you doing here? I thought they weren't letting anyone see me?"

"They weren't," Spencer confirms, "but Hotch and Gideon are busy, and I can be convincing. Occasionally. I think I might've talked so much that Gordinski let me in just so that I would stop talking, but it worked right?"

 "Yeah it did," he says with relief, and moves to hug Spencer before the metal around his wrists dig into his skin, "It's good to see you man. How's everything going on out there?"

Spencer's face turns solemn, "It's not great. You were right, Gordinski is convinced that you did this, and he won't listen to any of us when we say you didn't. I really missed out on some crazy years huh?"

"Yeah you did," he chuckles despite the situation he's in, and reaches out to grasp at Spencer's fingers, "Gordinski's had it in for me for ages. It's a good thing you left before that shitstorm hit me."

 "Yeah Desiree filled me in when I went to see your family earlier," Spencer's face turns sly, "Speaking of, when were you going to tell me that we were dating?"

Derek's eyes widen. Fuck, that conversation felt like it was an age away. "I'm not saying I'm against it," Spencer continues, "but I do like to be consulted about this stuff."

 "Oh you do Pretty boy?" Derek says, just to watch his cheeks heat, "I'm sorry man. It completely slipped my mind, what with the murder charge I'm facing and all."

"I know what you're doing," Spencer hums, "but I'm not letting you off that easy. Desiree thinks that we've been dating for close to a year. Says you talk about me all the time. Somehow, I feel like I would've noticed if I was sleeping with the Derek Morgan for a year, but it never came up."

Derek ignores the twitch in his pants at the thought of sleeping with Spencer, and instead says, "Your observational skills clearly need work pretty boy," he jangles the cuffs, "I'll help you out once I'm out of these."

 Spencer huffs, but lets the subject be, "Are you sure you don't know who's got it out for you Derek? I'm not saying that Gordinski is right, but you have to admit - it's a hell of a coincidence that bodies drop every single time you're in town. It's almost a statistical impossibility. The only logical explanation is that someone's setting you up."

 Carl Buford, Derek thinks instantly, almost unbidden. He dismisses the thought almost instantly though, even though it ruminates in his mind. "Rodney Harris, he's a local gangbanger in town. He's had it out for me ever since we were kids. It’s gotta be him Spence."

 "I think Hotch is running down some leads now," Spencer says with a nod, "I'll tell the team though. Get all of us on it. Are you sure there's nobody else Derek?"

Carl Buford, he thinks again, but he shakes his head. He's not ready for the team to know that about him yet. He's not ready for anybody to know that about him yet, least of all Spencer.

 He knows that Spencer has sense he's lying, but thankfully, he drops it.  He's almost at the door when Spencer turns back to him and says, "I didn't hate it. Being your boyfriend. Wished you'd actually asked me, but - I didn't hate it."

 He's out of the holding cell before Derek can formulate a response.

 /

 Despite his loud, emphatic protests otherwise, all roads lead back to Carl Buford. Derek is still smarting about the fact that Hotch dug into his past, when he specifically told him to leave it the fuck alone, but he takes small comfort in the fact that the rest of the team seems any the wiser.

 He can't escape his Ma and sisters though, and there's a lot of tears and hugs in the Morgan household that night.

 "I never knew," his Ma says desperately, cheeks wet, "you have to believe me Derek. I never knew what he was capable of. I wouldn't have pushed you to reconnect with him if I'd known."

"I know Ma," he soothes, and brings the her palm to his lips to press a dry kiss to the back of it, " 'Course I know that."

"Were there others?" Desiree asks bravely, even though Ma turns to her with a sharp look, "Did he have, others?"

 "I don't know," Derek says honestly. "I'm sure he did. Abusers," his voice cracks over the word abuser, but he pushes ahead, "generally have multiple victims. It's why I made it a point to keep up with kids like James, just in case he ever did something - I wanted them to think they had someone to tell."

 "Shit load of good it did, since Buford still fucked him up anyway. But at least now," he takes a steading breath, "At least now he's behind bars. James has still got time. Time to get over it, to make a new life for himself. I just hope it's enough." His Ma starts crying again then, collapsing in his arms, and Derek just holds up. He feels Desiree wraps her arms around his neck and lean against his back.

 He's loath to leave them the next day, but his leave is up, and JJ got wind of a new case that demands their attention. Still, it's not easy walking out of his Ma's house and onto the plane, especially not with everything that's ever come out.

 There are a few advantages of being back with the BAU though.

 "You didn't hate it huh?" he knocks at Spencer's shoulder, grinning when he blushes, "I believe those were your exact words?"

"I'm the one with the eidetic memory," Spencer replied wryly, "your shtick is muscles. Stop taking my stuff."

"Oh is that how it is?" Derek raises an eyebrow, "I'm not gonna let you skirt past this pretty boy, we're having this conversation. There's nowhere to run anymore."

 Spencer looks around the plane like he's looking for an exit anyway, and Derek softens, "Hey. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But there's a reason I never came clean with Desiree." He moves to get out of his seat, give Spencer some space, but a hand on his bicep stops him.

 "Did you know," Spencer says, apropos of nothing, "that our mothers had a bet going about whether we were going to get together. She told me during one of her more lucid moments. Said the thing she regretted most about leaving Chicago was separating us."

 "I did," Derek says gamely, "Desiree told me about it when I first told her that we were dating."

"I had the biggest crush on you," Spencer says, admitting it like it's a secret, which - given how long it's been since they were kids in Chicago, Derek supposes it is, "Still do, if I'm being honest."

Derek's heart is pumping so loudly in his chest, he can hear his blood roaring. "As long we're being honest," he says with a lilt, but reaches down and intertwines their fingers.

 Spencer looks down at where their fingers are joined, and back up at him, and Derek knows that he gets it from the way his face splits into a wide smile. Before either of them can say anything though, Derek's phone buzzes, and he fishes it out of his pocket with this free hand.

 >> Hotch: I expect the paperwork on my desk by the end of the week. Congratulations.

 Spencer and Derek look up at Hotch simultaneously, but he's looking down at his book. There's a smile playing on his lips though, and despite himself, Derek smiles too.

 Fin

//

this ficlet exists as a spiritual sequel to this fic

#my writing #moreid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer x derek #spencer/derek #criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #s2.12 #profiler profiled #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #friends to lovers #fake/pretend relationship #referenced/implied child abuse #its been a minute since ive watched the show #so im sorry if Spencer is a bit OOC!!

[ad1thi]

(not) a damsel in distress | AU-gust Day 1: Fantasy AU

AU-gust masterlist

major s/o to @deathsweetqueen for looking this over!! kicking off AU-gust with some samsteve!! 

“You just "rescued” me from a dragon, and you look so proud, but that dragon is actually my best friend. Oops.” AU (from this prompt list)

//

Knight Samuel Wilson was a trained officer of the Crown, and had sworn his life to protect his king, His Royal Highness Anthony Stark, and his subjects, the people of Starkistan with his life. So when he's trotting aimlessly through the woods, looking for a brook from which his horse, Redwing may drink, and he hears a loud cry, he doesn't think, he just moves.

 He tugs at Redwing's reins and taps the back of his heel onto his side, spurring Redwing towards the sound of the noise. It doesn't take long, because Redwing is a reliable and trusty steed, and within a manner of minutes, Sam enters a clearing to see a blond man trying valiantly to escape a dragon.

 The beast is on the smaller side, compared to the dragons that Sam is accustomed to seeing on his travels, but the blond is unusually small too. He can't be taller than Sam's shoulder, and he's stick-thin, wiry and lean. He's also unarmed, which is why Sam makes the executive decision to step in when the dragon flashes its blue scales menacingly.

 "Don't worry, young sir! I'll save you!" he calls and pulls his sword out of its sheath, before spurring Redwing on. He half-stands on his feet so that he can have the advantage of height, and when he's close enough, takes a hefty swing at the dragon's tail.

 The dragon pulls back with a yelp, and Sam has just enough time to turn to the young man - who's incredibly handsome - and tell him, "You're safe now. Run, before this beastly creature catches up with you." 

Then, several things happen at once. The man's face contorts into one of anger, rather than relief like Sam is used to - but before Sam has time to ask him why he's angry, the dragon flares his wings and opens his mouth, breathing hot fire that singes Sam's shoulders.

 "Oh, it's on," Sam murmurs under his breath and swings at the dragon with renewed vigour. 

It isn't a particularly old beast, the light blue scales on the underside of its belly indicating that it's still growing, but what it lacks in experience, it makes up for in sheer focus. Ordinarily, Sam would just attempt to scare it off. This beast, however, is giving it as good as it gets, snapping its teeth at Sam and attacking him with its sharp tail like it's some sort of make-shift spear.

 One particularly well placed jab has Sam, and with him,  Redwing, stumbling back, and the blond jumps to the side with a yelp. Sam would love to fell the beast, but he is honour-bound to protect a civilian above all else, so he starts planning his retreat. The dragon rears its head back, presumably to burn Sam again, and in one practised motion, Sam dismounts Redwing and rolls behind cover, wrapping an arm around the blond so as to bring him along.

 "Good sir," Sam says softly when they land behind some bushes, "this is your chance - escape, so that no harm comes to you while I slay this vicious beast." 

The blond reacts in the most unexpected way - he attacks Sam. It's completely out of left field, which is why Sam isn't even prepared to defend himself against the barrage of kicks and punches that turn him on his side.

 The flurry of movement kicks up the laying dust around them, and when Sam manages to blink past the cloud,  he's on his back, and the blond is pointing the business end of his sword against his neck.

"I'm trying to save you!" Sam yells indignantly, all formality lost with his bruised pride, "What're you attacking me for?"

"You attacked my best friend!" the blond yells back, even though Sam is fairly certain that there was nobody else besides him when he entered the clearing. "You were talking about killing him!!"

"Your fri-" Sam's eyes widen, "You mean the beast? You know him?"

The blond jabs the sword threateningly, and Sam throws up his hands in surrender, "I mean the dragon, the reptile? I'm sorry, I'm a Knight of the Crown - I thought I heard a cry for help, and when I saw you around the dragon, I didn't think, I just reacted."

"You were trying to save me from Buck?" the blond's face twists into one of confusion, as if he doesn't understand the concept.

 "What's a Buck?" Sam asks cautiously, and his face changes instantly. 

He really is gorgeous, Sam thinks morosely when the man smiles, It's unfortunate that this is how we met.

"My best friend," he says, puffing his chest, "His name's Buck. I'm Steve by the way," he adds on with an after-thought, sounding contrite about the fact that he forgot to introduce himself to the man who's throat he's holding a sword to.

Speaking, "Sam," he says around a cough, "Any chance I can get off my feet and get my sword back?"

Steve's eyes narrow, and his grip on the sword tightens, "How do I know you won't use it to kill Bucky?"

"I have no quarrel with the dragon, not if he isn't harming you."

Steve's eyes search his face for something, and whatever it is he must find it because he steps back, allowing Sam to get back on his feet. 

When Sam extends his arm for his sword, however, Steve juts his chin out, "I don't know if I can trust you yet."

Sam shrugs, because now that he's standing up, he can tell that his initial assessment of Steve was right - he barely comes up to Sam's shoulder. If Sam was particularly motivated, he could wrestle the sword out of Steve's hands, but he wants the blond to trust him so he just keeps his hands to his side.

 "So you were really trying to save me?" Steve asks again, as they make their way back to the clearing. 

Sam nods, "It's my sworn duty. To protect the king, his Royal Highness Anthony Stark and his subjects."

Steve's face twists at that, "I'm not a subject. I live out here, with Buck. I have done ever since Buck got cursed to turn into a dragon. Just wasn't safe for us to live in the city anymore.”

"You know," Sam starts hesitantly, "His Highness employs some of the most powerful mages in the continent. I'm fairly certain that if I asked, one of them would be able to help with your friend's affliction."

"You would do that?" Steve looks surprised, "But I just attacked you back there. Buck nearly burnt you alive!"

"Nothing's bruised apart from my ego, I assure you," Sam clears his throat, "Besides, it would give me a reason to come visit you again."

 Steve's cheeks colour ever so slightly, and Sam takes back every uncharitable thought about how they met, because he would do it all over again - just for that blush. His heart skips a traitorous beat, and with distinct clarity, Sam thinks, I'm in trouble.

 Somehow, looking into Steve's crystal blue eyes, the idea doesn't scare him all that much.

 Fin

#my writing #samsteve #falconshield #sam wilson/steve rogers #sam wilson x steve rogers #sam x steve #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Fantasy AU #pre-serum steve rogers #dragon bucky barnes #knight sam wilson #misunderstandings #meet ugly #(not) a damsel in distress

[ad1thi]

two for the price of one | AU-gust Day 12: Crime AU

AU-gust masterlist

for @justsomeoneunordinary. general warnings that the beginning and ending of this fic are slightly nsfk, and that all characters are a bit OOC since it’s a mob-verse. i apologise for this being so late!!

//

Tony's got his chair turned away from the door. It's not a dramatics thing, though he doesn't really have any grounds if anyone suspected it wasn’t a dramatics thing, but in this particular instance, it wasn't a dramatics thing.

 It was a James has his tongue down Tony's throat and Sam is kissing his way down Tony's chest and he would like the illusion of privacy thing.

 Which, if anyone asked Tony, was a far better reason than the dramatics thing.

 Of course, it might've worked better if Tony had also locked the door, but in his defence, he wasn't exactly expecting to be ambushed by his lovers in the middle of lunch break.

 (Boyfriends? Boytoys? Bed-warmers? Tony wasn't quite sure what they were yet, but Sam's hand ghosts over his clothed dick and it's hard to dwell on these kinds of things when something like that happens)

 He pulls away from James - who smoothly shifts his lips to Tony's neck - just in time to watch Sam lean in and bite into his zipper with his teeth when they're rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Tony!" Pepper says on the other side, and Tony groans - softly but firmly pushing both James and Sam away from him, "you better be decent when I come in!"

He spins his chair around, fixing the zipper off his dress pants and is half way through buttoning up his shirt when Pepper strides in, obviously tired of waiting. On either side of him, James and Sam go stiff - looking every bit the bodyguards that Tony ostensibly keeps them around to be.

Pepper looks at them, back at Tony where he's still adjusting the last of his shirt buttons, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"You can't be sleeping with your employees," Pepper intones, "I thought we'd been over this already." They had, several times. She even made him attend a seminar on it.

"Technically," Tony says, giving up on the last button because it was being particularly obnoxious, "I don't pay them. So they aren't my employees."

"What do you mean you don't pay them? Tony why don't you pay your bodyguards?" Pepper's voice has taken on a shrill tone.

"Pepper, darling, light of my life," he reaches a hand out to placate her, "They eat out of my kitchen, they live under my roof, they sleep in my bed. What could they possibly need a salary for?"

Pepper mulls over that for a couple of seconds and Tony crows victoriously because he knows he's right. It's not the most ethical of arrangements, but then again - he's the Patriarch of the Italian Mob. Ethics aren't really much of his concern.

"If Mr Stark paid us," Sam pipes up, because he's never been one for keeping his mouth shut, "It would technically be prostitution. Seems safer not to pay us."

Pepper wrinkles her nose, "That's more than I ever needed to know about your sex life Tony." Tony raises his hands in mock surrender, "Not to put too fine a point to it, but you did literally put yourself in the middle of things."

He lets his eyes roam across her body appreciatively, more out of habit than actual interest, "Not that I'm complaining of course." Next to him, James tightens almost imperceptibly.

Tony sighs. Keeping everybody happy was a full time job. He wished his mother had told him what he was getting into before she decided to wrap herself around a tree. Contrary to popular belief, being the head of an organised crime syndicate was not all it was cracked up to be.

(The benefits were worth it though)

Almost reflexively, Sam reaches out and places his hand over James. He doesn't intertwine their fingers, but it lets it rest there - a comforting weight that makes James relax incrementally.

A part of Tony hates that he can't be the one to offer that sort of comfort, but they aren't there yet. Sam and James have years on him, he's still something new and shiny to the relationship.

"Pep-pot," he says with a sigh, "was there something you needed or have you decided to interrupt my lunch just to tell me off?"

Pepper shifts, and Tony can see her slipping into a more professional mood, "I came to warn you about a new federal investigation. Seems some rookie straight out of Quantico has his sights set on you."

"Oh?" Tony raises a singular eyebrow, "and here I thought I hired your Widow specifically for this purpose. To weed out any stalkers." He extends his hand anyway, so that she can pass over the file stuffed under her arm.

"Agent Coulson," he says out-loud as he thumbs it open, "someone needs to teach this man how to dress. This tie does not go with this shirt at all, the colours don't compliment each other."

James peers over his shoulder, "Would you like me to take care of him for you?". Tony turns to him with a speculative look, "I thought you said you didn't want to kill anymore."

"I wasn't thinking about killing him," James says in a mulish tone that implies that he was in fact, thinking about killing him, "just scaring him a little. Making him think I was going to kill him."

Tony runs a finger across the laminated photo, pondering James' offer. On the one hand, James scaring him into dropping the case would be the most agreeable option. On the other hand -

"Somehow he doesn't strike me as the kind of man who scares easily," he looks up at Pepper, "you said he was fresh out of the Academy? It takes balls to come after the Stark family when you're that green - which tells me that he's either very determined, or he knows more than he's letting on."

He hands over the file with a flourish, "Put Natasha on him. I want to know everything about him from the end of the month. Then I'll decide how we'll proceed."

When he looks back at James, his lips are curled downwards, and it takes Tony a second to realise that he's pouting.

"Aw baby," he runs a thumb against James' lips, "don't pout. It's unbecoming of you."

"I don't like the idea that people are out to get you," James says, and Tony hears the unsaid 'not when I can do something about it'.

"I'll be fine mi amore," he says softly, in a voice he reserves from when they have no company, "I've survived a lot worse than Agent Coulson."

James sniffs, but doesn't say anything in response. Tony takes that as his tactic agreement.

"I'll put Natasha on it as soon as she's back from Malibu," Pepper promises, "she should be in later tonight." She looks at the three of them with something that Tony can't decipher, and before he can ask her if there's anything else - she lets herself out.

Sam follows her to the door, locking it behind her and then turning to Tony with a predatory look, "I believe we were in the middle of something before Pepper interrupted."

Tony lets his legs fall open and his lips stretch into a smile, "Nothing gets by you, does it Falcon?"

"No," Sam drops to his knees, in between Tony's legs, just as James crowds up behind him, "No it doesn't."

Fin

#my writing #winterironfalcon #buckytonysam #buckytony #samtony #sambucky #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #crime AU #mob AU #mob boss tony stark #OT3 #slightly nsfk #established OT3 #morally ambiguous characters

[ad1thi]

devil on your shoulder | AU-gust Day 4: Angels and Demons AU

AU-gust masterlist

for @justsomeoneunordinary

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re evil; you manipulate your words to deceive people.” (from this prompt list)

//

Humans were dreadfully complicated creatures. They had all sorts of motivations and intentions and conflicting life experiences that made it incredibly messy for Angels to assess whether or not they were to be granted safe passage to Heaven. This meant, more often than not, Pepper sent Tony down personally to investigate the life that the human had led.

 It wasn't that Tony was averse to spending time on Earth, there was something freeing and oddly fulfilling about shedding his wings for their odd clothing and walking amongst humans with the knowledge that he had. It was that Hell recently got word of his field trips (for lack of a better word) down to Earth and decided that it was the fair and just thing (as if Demons ever cared about fair and just) to send an envoy of their own.

 That meant that Tony was spending his time on Earth with Clinton.

"Natasha Romanoff," Pepper slides the file across to Tony, who thumbs it open to see the striking figure of a petite redhead, "I need you to go down there for a couple months. Figure out what her story is."

"It says here that she has almost two hundred kills to her name," Tony looks up at Pepper with a furrowed brow, "Surely this isn't a hard judgement to make."

Pepper's face twists, and if Angels were capable of grimacing, that's what Tony would've called her expression, "This isn't from me. This is from the Woman upstairs. Says that Natasha reminds her of somebody and wants to make sure we're doing the right thing before we condemn her to Hell."

Tony wants to say something, but he knows better to argue with Pepper, so he dips his head slightly and sees himself out. It's quick work to pack a small bag of essentials and glamour his wings away; his white robes falling away to reveal a loose black tee and jeans. He stretches a couple of time experimentally, shaking out his fingers - and stuffs the file inside his quiver.

Then he stretches his hands out, palms facing up; and falls.

This is always his favourite part, the way the air whips around him and the world shifts and changes before his very eyes. He knows that when the Demons fell, it wasn't fast or smooth or painless - that Heaven wept for their pain, but he can't tell but imagine that it must have felt something like this.

He falls gracefully into a back-alley, narrowly missing a hunkering black trash-can filled to the brim. When he's finishing dusting himself off and looks up, Clint is leaning against the wall and looking at him with a smile, dressed in some sort of purple monstrosity.

"Clinton," he says with faux politeness, "I presume you're here about Natasha Romanoff?"

"Is that her name?" he pursues his lips, and Tony hates him all at once because he'd never known lust until he met Clint, "I've been calling her Little Red in my mind. You know because she's -"

"petite and a redhead," Tony finishes, "yes I can put that together for myself thank you."

Clint beams at him, "I always knew you were a smart cookie. You're wasting away upstairs. You should come and hang out with me sometimes." He waggles his eyebrows in a way that's clearly meant to be suggestive, but damn if it doesn't stir something inside of Tony, "I can show you how the other half lives."

"No thank you," Tony says shortly, and he must imagine the way that Clint's face falls, because it’s gone in a second, "I like where I am right now."

/

"So, correct me if I'm wrong but Little Red -"

"Natasha -"

"Natasha has, or had rather, past tense - " Clint touches his forehead and then his chest, before moving to his shoulders, and it takes Tony an absurdly long amount of time to realise that he's just made a cross. The thought makes him want to laugh, but he bites his tongue, " - has an incredibly long list of victims."

He twists so that he's walking backwards, and Tony wants to reach out and grab him because he's expertly flitting through the crowd, and it's going to give them away, "Which begs the question, what're you guys interested in her for?"

Tony shrugs, "I'm not sure," he says honestly, "I asked Pepper the same question. All she said was that the woman upstairs thought that Natasha was worth redeeming, so I had to come and investigate."

"You don't feel the same," Clint says knowingly, and Tony flushes. "It's not for me to decide who is and is not worthy," Tony says loyally.

Clint snorts, "that sounds like a Company line. Pepper tell you to say that one too?"

Tony doesn't say anything. Mostly because it was Pepper who told him to say that, but he doesn't want to give Clint the satisfaction. From the way Clint smiles though, he has the feeling that he already knows.

"If you think she's a shoe in for Hell," he says, to change the topic, "Why did you come up to investigate?"

Clint puts a hand against his chest and gasps theatrically, "And miss a chance to see you? Never."

Tony's cheeks heat, and he resolves to keep quiet for the rest of their time together.

He missed the time when all humans did was eat forbidden apples and lie. Things were so much easier then.

Undeterred by Tony's vow of silence (probably because he was unaware of said vow), Clint fishes out a file from his quiver. It's also purple. "Born and raised in Russia," he reads aloud, "Graduate of the Black Widow programme before she defected and worked for -" he squints his eyes, even though Tony knows that he has perfect vision, "Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."

He whistles lowly, "They need to find a way to shorten that. That's a mouthful. Imagine having to yell that on the job." He thrusts out his hand in a facsimile of the few humans they'd seen in law enforcement during one of their trips down, "STOP. I'm Agent Clint of Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Tony can't help it, he giggles; eyes crinkling. "The person you're catching would run away by the time you finished," he agrees. "I think they call it SHIELD, for short," Clint looks at him with a quizzical expression and he rushes to explain, "I was investigating a human once, an Agent Coulson. He worked for the same agency."

"I can't believe you sat on that information, and allowed me to embarrass myself in front of all of these humans," Clint gestures around widely, even though they're in a secluded portion of the park and there's nobody around to watch them, "One would think you were out to get me Tony."

"That would be outrageous and ill-founded," Tony replies in a deadpan voice, and resolutely ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

"You're a little shit aren't you?" Clint says with ill disguised awe, and jostles Tony with his shoulder, "Under all that Angel-ness, you're a little bit like me."

"No," Tony says with a frown, "You're evil. You manipulate your words to deceive people. I'm nothing like you."

Clint's silent for a couple of seconds, and Tony sneaks a glance at him, worried that he's offended the Demon. His face betrays nothing though, and he throws his arm around Tony's shoulder, pulling him in closer. "I'll get you to admit it eventually," he says with a smile, even as Tony's face goes red because of their proximity, "but for now - I believe we have a pirate to interview about our redhead."

Fin

#my writing #clintony #ironhawk #clint barton/tony stark #clint barton x tony stark #clint x tony #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Angels and Demons AU #angel tony stark #demon clint barton #pre slash #devil on your shoulder #ive never actually written clint before #like ever i don't think #so hopefully he isn't too OOC!! #i hope you like this May i went through like 4 iterations of this fic before i finally finished it #so hopefully you like it

[ad1thi]

and then there’s you | Au-gust Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU

AU-gust masterlist

i took a brief hiatus but now im back!! this is possibly one of my favourite things ive written, ever

//

Steve was never expecting to get along with James. He didn't have the best start with Tony - even though he likes to believe that they've moved past that and have become good friends - and James' protective streak was well known. After all, the man broke records trying to fly back to New York fast enough and managed to show up just as the Hulk picked up Tony from the sky.

 He still remembers the way James landed around them with a thud, his faceplate snapping up and shoving all of them to the side so that he could get to Tony. He remembers the way Tony's face softened; the way James reached out with one metal encased hand to awkwardly rub his hair before settling on his shoulder.

 He remembers fiercely missing the time in his life when someone looked at him like that, like he was the reason the world continued turning.

 In retrospect, Steve honestly should've seen this whole thing coming, but he's still blindsided by the whole thing.

After the last of the Chitauri are felled down, Thor and James raging in the sky until they drop like flies, they regroup back at Stark Tower. It's almost too easy, over in a matter of hours, even though Steve feels like it's taken ages. They lock the Spectre away and clasp chains around Loki's body - and he can release a breath that he didn't know he was holding it.

 "Colonel Rhodes," he says, later, when they're all lounging in a beatdown shawarma joint, shamelessly taking advantage of an extremely grateful store-owner, “I just wanted to say thank you for all your help. Having two heavy hitters in the sky really helped us take down the stragglers. We couldn't have done it without you."

 James and Tony (from where he's resting on James' shoulder) both turn to him and give him identical looks, the kind that makes Steve want to duck his head and rub the back of his neck.

 "No need to thank me Cap," James says finally, "Just doing my civic duty." But he keeps looking at Steve, in a way that stirs feelings inside Steve that he thought had died when he went into the ice.

 Guess not.

 He nods once and is saved from answering by Tony grabbing the Colonel into another discussion. He takes another bite into his wrap, the food feeling wooden inside his mouth. Tony has one hand in the air, gesticulating wildly, but the other is wound around James, inter-twined with his own. It twists something inside Steve, and he tries to tell himself that it's just him missing his life before the ice. Before he was dropped into the twenty first century.

 He looks up to see Thor giving him an all too knowing look for a man who only met him a couple of hours ago. It makes him so uncomfortable that he stands abruptly, pulling both Tony and Rhodey out of their conversation.

 "I have to go," he says stiffly, "I have some work to attend to. I'll see you guys at the Helicarrier tomorrow at 0900 for a debrief," he nods at his team, "Colonel, it would good to meet you."

"Call me James," he says, nonplussed, "that’s what everyone who isn't this fella calls me," he thumbs at Tony; who's face twists in mock outrage.

 Steve doesn't say anything, spinning on his heel and all but running out of the shawarma joint, lest he dwell too strongly on the fact that James called Tony fella.

 Despite their horrendous first meeting, Steve and James actually get on fairly well. He's in New York a lot, despite still being on active duty. Ostensibly, it's because the War Machine - now rebranded as Iron Patriot armour needs regular check-ups and after what Tony and James mysteriously refer to as the Hammer incident - Tony is the only one who fiddles with it.

 It makes sense, since Tony designed the damn thing, but Steve knows that James is a genius of his own right. Privately, he thinks that James is equipped to deal with any and all faults in the armour, but he makes it a point to come for Tony. Watching your bestfriend strap a nuke to his back and fly into space with no concrete desire to return tends to do that to someone. Hell, if Bucky had pulled something like that he wouldn't have left him out of his sight.

 Besides, now that Steve has been living with him and gotten to know the man behind the mask so to speak, he can see why Tony inspires that kind of loyalty. The way he badly misjudged Tony still digs at him, even though Tony has waved off his apologies multiple times and promises that he harbours no bad feelings.

 Steve isn't complaining though. He likes that James visits, even though he frowns everytime James complains about how hard it was to finagle time with his superiors. Clint calls it his Captain America face, says that he makes it every time he thinks there's a fight. Steve doesn't know if he has a specific face, but he does know that it doesn't sit right with him that James has to fight that much to come stateside.

 That was the whole point of the War, that they would fight so that future generations don't have to. There's a lot to be said for the twenty first century. His country's proclivity with inserting themselves into every war that side of the Atlantic isn't one of them.

 Still, James' regular check-ups mean that Steve has gotten a chance to get to know Tony's bestfriend - since he winds up spending a lot of time in the workshop these days; sketching while Tony putters around. It's like white noise - the sound of a wrench or a blowtorch, interspersed with Tony and JARVIS sniping with each other, and it reminds Steve of the barracks, of the Howlies huddled around a single fire and sniping around each other.

 (It reminds him that he's no longer alone)

 When James comes however, the entire workshop lights up, and Steve along with it. Despite his best efforts, the smidgen of interest he'd felt in the shawarma joint has buried itself inside him, planted seeds and grown around his heart. It doesn't help that James is one of the most easy-going people he's ever met, the kind of person one gravitates to.

 He reminds Steve deeply of Bucky, but then again - Steve was never overcome with the urge to bear Bucky down and kiss him until they both couldn't breathe.

 "Steve!" James cries out, as the workshop doors open with the faintest snick, "It's good to see you."

Steve looks up from his sketchbook - where he's been drawing James funnily enough - and gives him a warm smile, "James. Good to see you. How's the Iron Patriot?"

"Don't call it that," Tony wags his wrench at Steve, looking like he's contemplating the merits of lobbing it at him, "You do not call it that in my workshop. This is a sacred space."

 "She's handling like a dream," James says over Tony, but he still walks over and pulls Tony in for a small hug before making his way over to Steve. The first time this had happened, Steve was almost jealous, but he's since realised that it's just a part of James' schedule. The need to physically remind himself that Tony is okay.

 "There's been a couple of tough missions," he continues with a grimace, after he's done surreptitiously looking Tony over and found his way to the couch where Steve is currently propped up. "I've definitely got some fresh bullet dents. But nothing Tony can't fix, isn't that right Tony?" he calls out to where Tony has turned back to his holo-screens and gets a half-hearted gesture in response that Steve takes to mean that Tony has heard James.

 "Enough about me though, not in the least because I could be arrested for going into detail," James reaches out and places his hand over Steve's; and it takes everything in Steve to not react to the touch, "You getting through the list okay?"

 A month into his stay at the Tower, Steve was listlessly chewing a banana in the Common Room when James came out for some water and saw him. "They taste weird," he'd said, when James asked if the banana had done something to offend him, "I guess I was just hoping it was something that hadn't changed."

James had regarded him for a second, and then pulled out a napkin from thin air, "You should make a list. It's what I tell most of my rookies, when they're going back after a long tour. Make a list of everything you want to catch up and work through it on your own pace. At the very least, it gives you something to do."

 Ever since then, Steve keeps a small black book on his person, filling it with a never-ending list of things. The entire team pitches in, depending on what it is that Steve is about to discover about the twenty-first century. Steve likes it best when James carves out time for him though.

 "I'm adding more things than I'm crossing out," Steve admits, and James clucks sympathetically, "but it's good. I've not Star Wars on my list next? And Tony made me promise to wait for you to come back so that both of you could introduce it to me together."

 James whistles lowly, but his eyes light up, "Oh I am so happy that you waited for me for this. Never listen to Tony, he thinks the prequels deserve rights," he bends down to whisper at Steve loudly, "we don't recognise the prequels."

"Is that prequels slander I hear in my safe haven?" Tony pipes up, spinning around to face them. He's still got the wrench in his hand, "Don't make me revoke your access honeybear because I will, don't test me."

 James holds up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going to go freshen up," he says with a clap, "but after I'm back, we can discuss Star Wars strategy."

 Steve watches him go, until he disappears around the corner. When he looks back at the workshop, he sees Tony looking at him with a look that's half speculative, half sympathetic.

 "You know that nothing can happen right?" he says apropos of nothing, but Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, "It's against the law. DADT. If his superiors find out, his career is over. 's why me and him ended in the first place."

  Steve found out about Tony and James' history only a month ago, and the sting has faded. Mostly because he knows it was a long time ago, and neither of them harbour those feelings anymore.

 "I know," Steve says carefully, because Tony is still James' bestfriend, "and I wouldn't ask him to risk that. Doesn't change how I feel though. And if I have to wait, or hide it, or even ignore it until he's ready to deal with it - I'm ready for all of it."

 Tony nods, like it's the answer he's expected, "You'll be good for him Steve. He deserves someone who'll wait." Unlike me, who didn't goes unsaid.

 "I don't expect anything from him Tony," Steve says, looking Tony right in the eye, "but I can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. Especially not if there's the barest possibility that he feels the same."

 Steve isn't generally good with these sorts of things, recognising interest. Still, he doesn't think he's imagined the looks he's gotten from James the past couple of times he's been over, over misread the touching, the talking, the borderline flirting.

 "He does," Tony confirms, "but like I said - nothing can happen." He says in a careful tone, and it takes Steve a couple seconds to cotton onto what Tony is implying. It leaves a rush through him, reminding him of back-alley trysts, protected by the shadows.

 "Nothing can happen," Steve repeats, and Tony pointedly turns his back as Steve leaps up from the couch and follows James out. He thinks about calling ahead, or maybe messaging - but there's a decent chance that James already knows about this conversation, since Tony wouldn't have brought it up unless James had expressly allowed him too.

 Steve might not know much about the twenty first century, but bro-code well enough.

 He knocks on James' door, thrumming with energy, and his heart stutters when James opens it in a towel; one around his waist, catching the droplets of water falling down his chest, and another around his neck.

 "Steve?" he asks, and there's no mistaking the hopeful tone in his voice. It confirms Steve's suspicions, that Tony was talking to him on behalf of James.

 Steve doesn't reply, just pulls him for a kiss.

 Fin

#my writing #steverhodey #warshield #steve rogers/james rhodes #steve x rhodey #steve rogers x james rhodes #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #Superheroes/Superpowers AU #post Avengers (2012) #past rhodeytony #pre slash #mutual pining #first kiss #dadt #secret relationship #pov steve rogers

[ad1thi]

broken pieces (you and me) fit together perfectly | AU-gust Day 5: Post Apocalyptic AU

AU-gust masterlist

i think this is my biggest fill yet, and i actually had so much fun writing this so please give it some love!!

//

Adjusting to life in Wakanda isn't easy. For one thing, everywhere is a constant reminder of what they faced, what they lost. As a country, Wakanda is not terribly big, its not large and looming and filled with large stretches of land the way the US was. There is no car for Sam to get into, no expanse of road that he can lose himself in.

There is just here, and nothing else.

It hadn't take him and Jim long to make it back to the others, one of his arms slung around Jim's shoulders while the other pressed against the wound in his abdomen in some attempt to stop the bleeding. The minute he got back though, he knew.

He didn't know how, or why, or even when. But he knew. Steve was dead.

He doesn't remember how he reacted, the entire thing is a huge blank in his mind. A week after he found out, Jim visits him in the med bay, and tells him in soft, halting tones, how Sam crumpled to the ground - screaming, and how none of them could do anything. Not Natasha, not Bruce, not even Jim.

He listens with a blank tone, and then turns on his side, mindful of all the tubes stuck inside him. Jim hovers around his head, but eventually lets himself out, leaving Sam alone to his thoughts.

All said and done, it takes him an embarrassingly long amount of time to realise that he's not the only one grieving. It feels like something that should be obvious, because Thanos killed half the universe, because the only news that's being reported these days is of the climbing death rate, because the tragedy is impossible to escape, even in his own mind.

Yet somehow, Sam doesn't realise until almost two weeks after he's been released from Medical that Jim is grieving too. It's almost humiliating, the way he finds out.

He's on his way to the kitchen, because Princess Shuri has graciously given them use of the East Wing of the Palace even though he's certain that everytime she looks at them, she thinks about the brother they've taken from her - the brother she lost because they brought war to her doorsteps; when he hears Jim and Natasha's voices.

"Anything?" Natasha asks, and there's a tinge of panic in her voice that makes Sam pause, "You haven't heard anything at all?"

"Pepper's been trying him for days," Jim says in a resigned voice, but Sam's been a therapist long enough to detect the undercurrent of despair, "Says she lost all contact with him after he boarded the donut. There's nothing -"

Jim's voice cracks, and Sam wants to reach out and hold him. Dimly, he's aware that he should probably examine those feelings closer but Jim's started talking again so he refocuses his attention on the conversation, "..doesn't die. I got so used to him not dying Nat. I don't, I don't know what it means that we haven't heard from him. Part of me wants to hold on, because this is Tony we're talking about he -"

"beats all the odds," Natasha finishes, and there's a rustle of movement, where Sam imagines that she's reaching out and holding his hand. It stirs something ugly inside of him. "He beats all the odds, and you want to believe that he's beaten these ones too."

"Thing is though," Jim says in a dry voice, "Even if he somehow survived space again, I have no way of knowing if he survived the Snap. Thanos didn't just kill half the population on Earth, he killed half the population everywhere. Who's to say that Tony didn't die somewhere on some godforsaken planet, all alone."

Jim makes a chocking sound then, and Sam realises with rapidly growing horror that he's crying. Without quite thinking it through, his feet start moving of their own accord, and when he enters the room, Jim's head is nestled in the crook of Natasha's shoulders.

Natasha looks up when he enters, and her eyes are wet with unshed tears. She mimes keeping quiet in her left hand, her right hand running down Jim's back in soothing motions; and Sam feels like an outsider looking in on their friendship.

He doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing, simply grabbing something from the fridge and walking out. As he's leaving, he can feel Natasha's eyes bore holes into his back, but he doesn't turn around.

/

Staying in Wakanda gets easier, over time. Sam isn't foolish enough to say that it hurts less, or that he gets used to how he can cover the entire country in a couple of days, but it gets more familiar - starts to feel like some semblance of home.

Jim is a huge part of that.

Once he got his head out of his ass and recognised that Jim had lost his bestfriend the same way Sam had, they started developing, something. Sam doesn't want to label, wouldn't even know what to call it even if he tried - but he's been down this road long enough to recognise familiar haunts.

He’d always been friendly with Jim, since they both joined up to the Avengers roster at the same time, post – Ultron. Steve was caught between missing Tony and furiously throwing himself into saving Barnes - and Sam, Jim and Natasha formed this unlikely but solid bond.

That’s nothing compared to what they have now: quiet conversations in dimly lit rooms in the middle of the nights, cryptic touches in the blearing light of day, comfort under covers that they never talk about again.

Sam has spent so much time being the person that people went to for help, that he’s almost forgotten how to ask for it.

Jim changes that.

“Can’t sleep?” he lifts up his head from where he’s absently blowing at his coffee to see Jim leaning against the doorframe, clad in worn out sweats and an MIT tshirt and stretches around his chest and rises up around his waist; revealing a sliver of finely toned muscle and the hint of defined hips.

Sam firmly tamps down the want that’s growing inside him.

“Me neither,” Jim continues, even though Sam hasn’t spoken, “I don’t think any of us are getting much sleep anymore.”

“Might have something to do with the fact that your clothes don’t fit you,” Sam says, in lieu of an actual response. He doesn’t feel like digging deep and exposing himself.

Jim looks down at his tee like he didn’t even realise that he was wearing it, and when he replies, his voice is thick with an emotion that Sam recognises intimately, “It’s Tony’s. Must’ve got mixed up in the wash.”

Tony isn’t in Wakanda, nor is his laundry, but Sam doesn’t call him out on it. He simply reaches out and pats on the seat next to him, and when Jim sits down – knocks their shoulders together.

Jim leans into the touch briefly, and Sam suddenly remembers how tactile Tony used to be, during the few times he would visit the Compound. He wonders how long it’s been since someone has touched Jim like that.

“I hear that Wakanda has crazy infomercials,” he says, before he does something stupid like offer to cuddle Jim, “want to see what’s on?”

Rhodey looks down at his coffee mug, and then up at Sam with an expression that Sam doesn’t want to touch.

“Sure,” he says eventually, “how bad can it be?”

It’s bad. Even worse that the infomercials that Sam remembers from his first year back on American soil, but he doesn’t watch much of it – because he spends most of the night watching Jim’s face; and resolutely ignoring the growing warmth inside his heart.

It becomes somewhat of a routine between them. Not in the regular, let me pencil you into my diary way, but more in the organic way. One of them will be stewing in silence, and the other will enter; and invariably they'll end up on the couch surfing channels.

Princess Shuri offers to get them access to american cable, but they both decline. Neither of them are ready for that yet.

Some nights Natasha joins them. Others, Bruce. Somewhere along the way, the kitchen gets stocked with popcorn and chips and crisps, and the fridge is filled with cans of various drinks.

Most of the time though, its just him and Jim.

As much and Sam loves Bruce and Natasha, these are the nights he likes the most.

It's on one of these nights that Sam finally decides to make his move. He's resting on Jim's shoulder, because they've long since foregone the illusion of space and personal space, and Jim's hand is lightly tracing patterns from where it's resting on Sam's hip.

Someone is selling a spoon that doesn't spill it's contents no matter which way you twist it on the screen, and Sam twists so that he can look up at Jim. Jim looks back at him instantly, and softly, slowly - telegraphing his every move, Sam leans up to cover the last few inches and bring their lips together.

There are no fireworks, there's no sudden and huge realisation.

Jim kisses him back instantly, the hand on his waist tightening. The kiss is sweet and chaste, and when Sam pulls back, he smiles.

Jim smiles back, and Sam thinks to himself that nothing is going to fix what Thanos broke - but maybe he isn't as broken as he thought after all.

Fin

#my writing #warfalcon #sam wilson x james rhodes #sam wilson/james rhodes #sam x rhodey #sam/rhodey #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #post apocalyptic AU #post Avengers IW #Angst #Sam Wilson POV #Getting together #Developing relationship #rhodey and nat friendship #friends to lovers #broken pieces (you and me) fit perfectly together

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keeping a low profile | AU-gust Day 11: Farm/Ranch AU

AU-gust masterlist

disclaimer: i haven’t actually watched Hannah Montana The Movie

//

Tony mimes cleaning out his ears, dramatically and theatrically in a way that makes his father roll his eyes.

 "I must've misheard you," he says, sending his father a significant look, "so why don't we try that again? What is it you wanted to see me about, father mine?"

His father pinches the bridge of his nose, and Tony is equal parts ecstatic that he managed to garner such a reaction and worried that he's made things worse, "I said - I'm sending you to Crowley Corners Tennessee, to go live with your Aunt Peggy."

 "But I don't even know my aunt Peggy! Besides, I have a life here, a life that you can't just tear me away from. You can't send me, I refuse to go."

His father scoffs, "A life? What life would that be?" he grabs a magazine from the pile stacked next to him and flings it across the desk at Tony, "A life where you get into fights with Tyra Banks over shoes?"

 "Or is the life where you pass out drunk in the back-alley of nightclubs?"

 "Or," he takes a second to look at the magazine cover, and Tony fights the urge to sink into his seat, "and this is my personal favourite - is it the life where you make your bestfriend's birthday party all about you?"

 Tony would very much like it if the Earth could open up and swallow him whole, much like it did in that one story his Ma used to love telling him as a child.

 "That was," Tony splutters, fumbling for some sort of explanation, "that was a mistake. I didn't mean to make Rhodey's party all about me!! But Hammer was just following me everywhere, and I couldn't shake him off - and you know how paparazzi are just like bloodhounds and I just…"

 He trails off when Howard gives him a look. Mostly because he knows there's no excuse for this one. He's still working on getting Rhodey to forgive him for ruining his eighteenth birthday party, but it's slow going.

 "You're going to Crowley Corners Tony," his father says in a voice that Tony has learnt to mean no arguing or pleading or begging will change a thing, "the fresh air and countryside will do you some good. Turn you back into that child that your mother loved so much instead of this, media monstrosity you've become."

/

Ordinarily, if Tony was travelling anywhere, he prefers flying. He isn't enough admitting that he's got a taste for the finer things in life and he learnt long ago that unless he was completely comfortable with the company - land journeys were not his thing. He was a big believer in popping a pill before the flight took off, pulling a mask over his eyes, and being gently woken up by a pretty air hostess when the flight landed.

 Howard however, disagreed, which is why he was in a ratty bus that moved maybe 5 miles an hour and had seats so thin that Tony could feel it digging into his skin and making a home there. This is about getting back to your roots, Howard had said when he saddled Tony with two large suitcases and then left him off the side of the road to fend for himself.

 He's been trying to sleep for the better part of an hour, but funnily enough - leaning your head against the dusty window made it rattle like you were in a laundry machine and that wasn't very conducive to a good night's sleep. And since Tony was surrounded by strangers and he had some survival skills, he wasn't about to pop a pill and make it easier for the homeless guy two seats away from him to kidnap him.

 His only small comfort was in the fact that once Rhodey had found out where Howard was shipping him, he'd laughed so hard that he'd forgotten why he was mad at Tony, or, more likely, he decided that Tony's life was already hard enough without him also having this weighing over his head.

 His exact words were: You think I'm going to miss out on you slumming it with countryfolk? Nah we're good as long as you promise to update me every single day.

 Given that there was nothing to do in Crowley Corners Tennessee (he knows, he googled it), Tony didn't think that was a hard ask.

 The bus finally halts to a screeching stop, and Tony cups his hands over the glass and peers through the window to see the sign better. C-owley C--ners, it reads, in faded red paint, and Tony is fairly certain that this is his stop. He gently pushes back the large man who'd plopped into the seat next to him over an hour ago and makes his way off the bus; rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for the bus driver to unload his suitcases from the trunk.

 While he's waiting, he takes a cursory look around at the town that's supposed to be his home for the next summer. It's painfully obvious that they're no longer in the city, because Tony can't see another person for miles. Reaching into his back-pocket - he pulls out his phone and starts thumbing through his contacts, trying to look for the number that his father had sent him earlier.

 "Tony!" he looks up at the sound of his voice, and sees a tall woman walking up to him, with blonde hair that curls around her shoulders. Aunty Peggy, his mind supplies, thinking back to the photos he'd seen of her. There's a touch of familiarity as she gets closer, even though Tony knows it's been years since he's seen her.

 "Aunt Peggy," he replies weakly, and that's all he gets out before he's pulled in for a tight hug.

 "Oh it's so good to see you darling," she says, and Tony realises with a jolt that she has a british accent. She pulls back and cups his cheeks, not unlike how his Ajji does when he goes to visit her, "you look so much like your mother."

 Tony ignores the tug in his heart when he hears those words, mainly because nobody ever tells him that he looks like his mother, and says instead, "It's good to see you too."

 "You must be so exhausted from your journey, let's get you all settled in."

 /

Despite his preconceived notions, Aunty Peggy actually does have a nice house. She's got a jeep parked just off the side of the road from the bus-stand, because apparently Crowley Corners isn't big enough for more than a small bench at the edge of town; and Tony dutifully drags his suitcases all the way to the jeep and hauls them over to park them in the back.

 Riding in the jeep isn't too different from the bus, except that it's less stuffy and Tony can feel the wind on his face. He isn't sure if that's a good thing yet, but he silently marks it down as a point for Crowley that he doesn't immediately hate it. It's a short journey, no more than five minutes - and soon Aunt Peggy is turning the corner into what looks like a very nice house, with a man in crutches standing at the door.

 "That's my husband Daniel," she explains, as they step out and Tony goes to grab his bags, "He injured himself a couple years back and was forced to retire, and New York was no longer fun without him, so I joined him out here a couple months later."

 "What happened?" Tony asks, out of politeness more than anything.

 "He got shot at," Aunty Peggy replies, but before he can ask whether she's serious or not, they're at the front steps

off the house and Mr Sousa is making his way down the stairs. Aunty Peggy meets him half-way, tilting her head up ever so slightly to kiss him hello, because he's still a step above her - and then smoothly shifting under his arms and helping him back up the stairs.

 He thinks he can hear Aunt Peggy scolding him for trying to come down the stairs, but he isn't sure. They remind him a lot of his father and his Ma, before she died, and he turned into a tyrannical asshole. Before that though, he remembers them being happy.

 "Come on in Tony!" Aunt Peggy calls after him, and Tony moves to grab his bags, when movement from the side of the house catches his eyes. Huh, he thinks to himself, I didn't know anyone else lived here. He wants to ask Aunt Peggy who it is, but she's already gone inside, so he feels a bit foolish yelling after her.

 "Hello?" he calls out hesitantly, "Is anyone there?"

 There's a shuffle and then a boy who can't be much older than Tony steps out; with mud on the scuffs off his boots and wearing an honest to god cowboy hat.

 "Howdy!" he says brightly, while Tony tries to wrap his head around the cowboy hat, "You must be Mrs Sousa's nephew." He wipes the back of his hand against his cotton tshirt, which is so thin that it's practically see through, "Clark Kent. I help out with Mr and Mrs Sousa's ranch sometimes, on account of Mrs Sousa being away a lot and Mr Sousa's leg injury."

 "Tony," he says back, and up close, Tony notices that his thick framed glasses and wide brimmed hat are hiding blue eyes, "Tony Stark."

 "Nice to meet you Tony Stark," Clark says with a twinkle, "I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you 'round here."

 "Yeah," his tongue feels heavy, but Tony manages to unstick it just enough to say, "yeah I suppose you will."

 Both of them stare at each other for a couple of seconds longer, missing the way Peggy looks at the pair of them with a private smile playing on her lips.

 Fin

#my writing #superiron #clark/tony #clark kent x tony stark #clark x tony #clark kent/tony stark #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #farm/ranch AU #hannah montana the movie AU #desi tony stark #i actually had so much fun writing this #and i might expand on it who knows?? #i feel like i say i had fun writing this for everything that i write #but im genuinely rly enjoying myself yknow #even though my posts aren't getting that much notes and stuff #im still having a rly good time #tackling all these different AUs and different ships

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark/Thor Characters: Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Loki (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja (Marvel), Odin (Marvel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Pre-Slash, Meet-Cute, Asgardian Tony Stark, Pre-Thor (2011) Series: Part 9 of AU-gust 2020 Summary:

Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of the Realm of Asgard, Brother of Loki the Silvertongue, son to Frigga the Kind and Odin the Great, was known for a great many things.

He was known for his great looming stature, stranding tall and proud even for an Asgardian, with muscles that rippled and tensed as he walked. He was known for his illustrious hair, a thick blond mane that he'd taken a vow to never cut, braided and cascading down his shoulders in thick waves. He was known for his might on the battlefield, for the terror he struck through the heart of his enemies when he called lighting itself down to rain fire on those who dared oppose him.

He was known for being a gentle prince, for always having an ear open and the time for a pitcher of ale. He was known for the bond he had with his brother Loki - how the two of them had curled around each other at birth, his tiny fist clenched around his brother's equally tiny pinky, and never let go.

But more than any of that, Thor Odinson was known for never taking a Consort, in all his years.

//

AU-gust Day 9: Royalty AU

#my writing #thortony #thunderiron #thor odinson/tony stark #adi does AU-gust #posted last night!! #go give it some love!! #its v possible that today's fill is gonna be a bit late too so be nice and go give this one #some love #i deserve it don't you think

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ive decided that im going to (attempt to) do AU-gust this year but before i delve into it i just wanted to open up to prompts and ships!! the list can be found here and im opening this up to non tony and non marvel ships too!! i’ll be taking requests for this whole month (and possibly even writing some of them beforehand because im going to be doing this in between an essay submission and exam week so bear with me) - so please help me out and send in prompts and ships!! if you have any questions about my fandoms and/or ships feel free to leave an ask, and please leave prompts and ship suggestions the exact same way!! 

#adi does AU-gust #will be reblogging this routinely #so please send in your stuff!! #i would really appreciate it because i'd rly like to do this #send in rarepairs #send in poly ships #send in ships you think don't get enough love #as long as its not inc*st or p*dophilia chances are i'll be up for taking a stab at it #also send in ships from fandoms you'd like to see me write for!! #percy jackson #harry potter #teen wolf #criminal minds #the world is your oyster and all that!!

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AU-gust masterlist

(the list for the original prompts can be found here)

Day 1: Fantasy AU (samsteve)

Day 2: College AU (damonelena)

Day 3: Soulmates AU (buckytony)

Day 4: Angels and Demons AU (clintony) 

Day 5: Post - Apocalyptic AU (rhodeysam) 

Day 6: Hospital AU (buckytony)

Day 7: Childhood Friends AU (spencerderek) 

Day 8: Superheroes/Superpowers AU (rhodeysteve)

Day 9: Royalty AU (thortony)

Day 10: Pirates AU (rhodeytony)

Day 11: Farm/Ranch AU (clarktony)

Day 12: Crime AU (buckytonysam)

Day 13: Rock Band AU (jamesirius)

Day 14: Vampire AU (buckytony)

Day 15: Role Reversal AU (rhodeytony)

Day 16: Treasure Hunters AU (rhodeytony)

Day 17: Firefighters AU (stevetonybucky)

Day 18: Bodyguard AU (jameslilysirius)

Day 19: 19th Century AU (henryalex)

Day 20: Single Parents(s) AU (siriusjames) 

Day 21: Professional Rivals AU (dracoharry)

Day 22: Futurist AU (rhodeytonypepper)

Day 23: Arranged Marriage AU (stevetony) 

Day 24: Private Detective(s) AU (rhodeytonysam)

Day 25: Circus AU (buckytony)

Day 26: Monster Hunters AU (percyannabeth)

Day 27: Flower Shop AU (buckytonyclint)

Day 28: Fashion and Models AU (peppertonysteve)

Day 29: Tattoo Parlour AU (buckytony) 

Day 30: Magic AU (tonybruce)

Day 31: Joker - Modern AU (stevetony)

#adi does AU-gust #ive pinned this post #and will unpin it after AU-gust #but for now - its pinned

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid Characters: Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Elle Greenaway, Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan's Family Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Episode Tag s02e12 Profiler Profiled, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Misunderstandings, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, (but its a very minor part) Series: Part 8 of AU-gust 2020 Summary:

“We were childhood friends but since you moved, we haven’t been in contact in years. And my family keeps bugging me about dating, so I lied and said I was in a relationship with you. But all of a sudden you come back to visit and I don’t know how to tell you that everyone thinks we’re dating.” AU

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds #derek morgan/spencer reid #AU-gust #adi does AU-gust #this was so much fun to write please give it some love!!