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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

marvel taglist:

@leyannrae

@livstilinski

@oceaniamaddness

@justreadingficsdontmindme

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x singer!reader #steve rogers fic #i miss steve #why did he have to go back in time #like i get it but also im upset

77 notes · View notes

burntmcnuggies · 4 years

Text

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

#dabi x reader #dabi fluff #touya todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi angst #my hero academia #slight spoilers #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi bnha #boku no hero x reader

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ka-writes · 3 years

Text

——————

Notes: I felt evil..

Also cross country sucks, now I feel sick.

But I gift longish chapter!

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warning: trauma flash backs, cussing, mentions of character death, fear.

——————

Chapter 5: Rocky Road

——————

Techno certainly didn’t expect Tubbo’s sudden outburst. Still Techno sort of expected bitterness towards the human.

The droneling marched off presumably to go to the garden. He shoved Wilbur out of the way and continued speaking gibberish.

“What’s with Tubbo?” The phantom asked, casting worried glances towards the door.

“He just threatened the human.” Techno said as if it wasn’t the most stupid move on Tubbo’s part. Wilbur’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to run to the holding cell, only to be stopped by Techno’s hand on his shoulder. The phantom sighed before turning towards the guard.

Silently the pair made their way to the common room. Flicking on the illusion projector, and turning the channel with the ISF news. Techno opened a novel not paying any mind to the news reporter who was going over the case that Techno had just escaped.

There weren't any further advances on the story other than what they knew. The ship had crashed on Omar, a nature preserve, which led the ISF to find eight human bodies and twelve recognized crew members. Though there were fourteen to begin with, not that the news knew that of course. The ship was also deemed as a poacher ship and not much else was discovered.

After the story was covered a different news reporter came on screen. He was shifting his papers nervously and glanced down every so often. This caused Techno to close his novel and pay attention to the illusion.

“Just one day ago, one of the Dream Team crew members quit.” The news reporter took a shaky breath before continuing, “Today the crew has reported that the ex-crew member had taken one of the humans they were using for testing.” A picture of Tommy appeared on screen, “This is what the human looks like. We advise citizens to be on the lookout for this man,” a picture of Wilbur popped onto the screen, “and the human. If you see either one in public do not engage and immediately report it to one of your stationed guards.” The man finished and Wilbur immediately flicked off the TV.

Him and Techno shared a glance of pure shock. Wilbur shed a couple blue tears and immediately started panicking. The guard wrapped his brother until a tight hug and fought off the voices chants of “NOT SAFE”. Silence drew the pair into an unsteady atmosphere.

——————

“Honestly that kid is a burden. I don’t know why you think we can take care of him.” A lady said, fury wasn’t hidden behind a fake smile at this point. The man standing next to her nodded silently.

“Ma’am, I don't understand what you’re saying.” Another lady responded, patience running thin.

Tommy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. His lip was already bleeding and his fingers felt raw. His bruises were itching uncomfortably under his tight shirt. He was starting to overheat, yet kept his jacket wrapped around him protectively.

“What I am saying is, we don’t want him, and I doubt anyone else will.” The lady started, “That kid is a nuisance. He makes our children look problematic, when in reality he is the problem child. I don’t understand how his parents put up with him for so long.” The lady finished.

“Only my mother put up with me,” Tommy thought, “my father couldn’t spare me a glance without yelling at me..”

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours before making the decision. The one that caused him to live on the streets.

He took his bag and sprinted out of the facility. He just kept running, nowhere to go and no money to use.

….

Suddenly it was a different night. He was sitting on a park bench looking at the stars. He was somewhere in Colorado, not sure how he made it here, but here he was. He breathed in the fresher air and pushed himself up.

He turned left then right then another left. At this point he was on one of those nature paths that seemed to be everywhere.

He sat in a field. Wasn’t it night?

A light and a huge gust of wind was the only response he got.

Then footsteps. A distant scream. Then cold sharp pain accompanied by a void of darkness.

He woke up in a cage..

He shot up in bed.. His head throbbed, but there was no point in sleeping it off.

So he got up. He hobbled over to the bookshelf and looked at the weird games and toys. His eyes fell on what he presumed to be a stack of cards and a pen of sorts.

It took an hour to label all the cards, but when he finally did he played a game of solitaire. Then another and another. By the time he finished the sixth one he was bored.

He went back to inspecting the bookshelf. The middle shelf had jigsaw puzzles.. didn’t Clem like puzzles?

He picked out what he presumed to be a flower field. There were a bunch of blue sunflowers.. wasn’t that her favorite flower?

Tommy sat on the floor creating a puzzle his sister would’ve absolutely adored. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks every once and a while. Only to be hastily wiped away.

——————

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. They attempted to sit up only to find creaks in their back and neck.

After a minute he sat up. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but he made his way to the security office, ready to work through his sleep deprived state.

Before they even left the room Phil told them to go back to rest. Ranboo obliged, and closed his door.

Having no work left he decided to write down as much information as he could about both Earth and Tommy.

Surprisingly they were able to recall a lot of information from the night before. That usually didn’t happen..

Once they wrote an entire dictionary on both topics, they tried the door again.

Phil, once again stepped in front of them, “Mate, I really think you should rest.”

“I know, but I am hungry. Can I at least have lunch?” Ranboo felt like a child once again, but knew it always worked with the captain.

After Phil rolled his eyes, Ranboo practically skipped to the kitchen. He grabbed some of the leftovers from last night and popped it into the insta-heater. Making two plates of food.

After the food was ready he looked down either hallway. Phil was preoccupied with Wilbur in the common room. Deciding it was the best time to sneak to his friend, he made his way to the holding cell. Only to be stopped by none other than Techno himself.

“Oh! H-hi Techno..” Ranboo said awkwardly.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I was just getting Tubbo some lunch!” Ranboo cringed at their own lie. Only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok I was gonna visit Tommy.” Ranboo caved. That was the right answer as Techno nodded and let Ranboo pass.

“You’re only giving him lunch right?” Techno inquired.

“Er- that and talk a bit.. I mean that was my original plan.”

“Then I will stay with you.” Techno left no room for debate.

Ranboo nodded and approached the cell, setting the plate on the automatic tray. Techno stood in a small hallway allowing his presence only to be known to Ranboo.

Tommy was sitting on the floor putting together a landscape puzzle.

With what they saw, their curiosity intrigued them.

“Can I go in?” He asked first to Techno who shifted off of the wall.

“Only if I am in there.” Ranboo nodded and turned to Tommy who was busy with the puzzle.

Ranboo knocked on the window once. Tommy’s head shot up before the human stood up and approached the window.

“Hello!” Ranboo chirped, “I can see you’re working on a puzzle! I would love to help if you want? Me and my friend won’t go in if you don’t want me in there. But just so you know I brought lunch!”

Tommy stared at the enderian before answering. He was clearly debating the options.

“Only if Techno doesn’t talk.” Was the only response either got.

With that they grabbed the food and let the door open. Techno entered first, immediately going to the back chair and pulling out a novel. Ranboo handed Tommy a plate and sat next to the strange human.

It didn’t take them long for them to start rambling. Both about everything and nothing.

Surprisingly Ranboo lost all fear that should’ve been gripping them, and felt comfortable sitting with one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

——————

“So people are looking for you?” The captain asked, impatiently tapping his foot against the metal floor.

“To put it simply, yea..” Wilbur said pretty much losing all confidence within the span of an hour.

The caption responded with a sympathetic look and wrapped his son in another tight hug. Wilbur didn’t pull away this time. He melted into comfort.

After a minute the elder pulled away, “How about you watch one of those documentaries you like. I will make some iced fluff and join you in a bit.” The phantom nodded and trugged himself over to the common room sofa. Turning on the illusion and flicking to one of the only things the ISF was allowing people to view from Earth, Netflix.

He skimmed the documentary section and came upon one that was about the Ocean. Three minutes later he was completely into it.

Phil returned with two bowls of iced fluff. Wilbur dug into the sweet treat. Phil sat next Will and wrapped a wing around him, to which Will leaned into the embrace.

——————

“So what’s your favorite treat?” Ranboo asked, after he got another piece Tommy wasn’t able to get.

Tommy scoffed, mumbling about how he was just about to try that spot before answering the question, “I love Rocky Road Ice Cream. My mom made it without nuts so it is far superior to anything anyone would get from a store.” Tommy was satisfied with his answer and tried another piece.

“Hmm.. What is ice cream?”

“It’s a sweet frozen cream of sorts.”

“Oh so like iced fluff?”

“No idea, I would have to try it first..”

Both continued the conversation mumbling about other different foods and what not, before falling into a comfortable silence.

Tubbo was absolutely furious at the scene. He sprinted off to the garden where he slammed the door and melted to the floor.

When was the last time anyone had a conversation that was about everything and nothing with him?

He hated the fact he was jealous over a fucking human.

Tomorrow was the day he would prove the human wasn’t all he seemed to be. That the human was nothing more than a monster.

——————

Chapter 5-End

Words: 1826

——————

Notes: I still have a few filler chapters, but am getting there!!

Go take care of yourself, love ya!! <3

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are even better! (Suggestion make a side blog where you just spam creators works... just saying, I have one..)

Also my layout for chapters has changed a bit. I have the last chapter at the top and the next one at the bottom.. and no I am not doing the inspired by on Ao3, simply cause it’s easier for people to see it in the first few, I am keeping it here tho, cause I know people aren’t really gonna see my first chapter right away. I will be keeping the link to the first chapter at the top as well just not the middle ones.

——————

Tubbo has evolved in to

J E L L Y B E E

——————

Chapter 6:

#tubbo #dream smp fanfiction #sbi au #my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #tommy mcyt #ranboo #philza #reblog #space au #angst #little bit of fluff #humans are space orcs

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dearest-bucky · 4 years

Text

Birthday wish (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t love his birthdays, but maybe he can learn to.

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: none, a fluffy ending as usual hihii

A/N: I was supposed to write and post this on Bucky’s birthday but couldn’t find it in me to do, so here it is now. I hope you like it! Feedback is truly appreciated! xx

Originally posted: March 19. 2020

Monday, 11:05 PM

It was late and they were all battered and exhausted, but despite that, they still had to swipe the place to find any new information on Hydra and then blow it up to hell.

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission, ended up being a real bloodbath. As always. When has there ever been such thing as a simple mission with the Avengers? Something would always come and fuck up the plans for an easy in and out job.

This time the fuck up came in the form of more than a dozen Hydra thugs charging at them with guns and knifes, resulting in the death of them of course. But despite the result and the fact that they won the battle, the Avengers didn’t come out without scratches or wounds themselves.

Steve had a busted lip, Bucky was having technical problems with his arm because of a bullet that was caught in it, Sam had a seemingly deep gash on his side that kept oozing blood out and Y/n was fuming because ‘she had just done her nails the other day and she broke one of them while fighting with those Hydra bastards’.

“Thirty seconds until explosion.” Steve informed over the comms and all of them made a run for the jet before they could get caught in the big boom.

As soon as they got in, y/n was on Sam’s side, helping him with his wound.

“C'mon Bird Man, I have get you out of this shirt if you don’t want to die of bleeding out.”

“If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask sweetheart.” Despite the fact that his skin was paler than ever before and he was losing all energy, Sam still couldn’t give up him sense of humor.

Bucky who was sitting just a few inches away, chuckled at his words but said nothing anyway.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and pressed on his gash with an alcohol pad a little more than necessary, making Sam wince in pain. Then she continued to clean his wound and did her best to stop the bleeding until they got to the compound. She was no doctor after all, and every specific procedure would have to wait for a real specialist of medicine.

Tuesday, March 10 3:34 AM

After arriving at the compound and literally taking Sam with force to the medical bay, Y/n could finally get to her own room and get a well deserved shower. The mission had taken a toll on her, same as on everybody else, but to be fair, those super soldiers had it easier when it came to fighting.

Once she got in the shower and let the hot water wash down all the dirt and blood off of her, she felt herself immediately relax. It was all she needed and she could live there forever. However, after another 10 minutes of thoroughly washing herself she turned the water off and wrapped a big fluffy towel around her body.

Next thing in the list: sleep.

She patted her body dry with the towel and changed into a pair of clean pajama, falling in her bed like the dead, immediately shutting her mind out and letting sleep take her away.

She was soundly sleeping when her door silently opened and somebody got in her room with small, quiet steps.

“Doll, you awake?” Nothing more than a whispered voice breaking the silence of the night, and when the only answer he got was her heavy breathing, he turned around without so much as a noise and left, just as he had come.

Y/n was still soundly sleeping.

5:00 AM

Bucky couldn’t sleep. No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he wanted to close his eyes and get a couple of much needed hours of sleep. He couldn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t shut his mind.

Today was his birthday. Not that he cared that much about it. He had had more birthdays than he cares to count anymore, but there was something about the date that made him restless.

He was currently in his room, half laying in his bed, a few old photos scattered carelessly on his blanket. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of them.

One of his mother with a little baby on her arms, his baby sister Rebecca. A couple more of his parents, one of his sister alone. Another of him, in his army uniform, a boyish smirk plastered on his face.

“Young fool.” He thought to himself.

All those pictures were some kind of present from Steve when he first got back from Wakanda. He said they would help him with his recovery, and of course everyone should have at least a couple of photos of their family.

After all, they were the only thing he had left from his family. And Bucky really held on to those photographs.

With most of his memories back, he remembers one of his early birthdays. He was turning 20, probably, and he and Steve had gone to this dance club in Manhattan.

He had literally begged Steve to go with him there just to dance with some pretty dames he couldn’t remember their names anymore. And that was not because of the brainwashing.

Now he hated his birthdays. Just another day to remind him he shouldn’t be alive now, in this year. Another reminder of all the things he had been through in his long, miserable life.

He let out a long sigh and turned to lay on his side, placing the photos carefully on his nightstand.

10:30 AM

The kitchen was buzzing with lively chatter, however not everyone was feeling their brightest today.

With most of the team having a day off, it was natural they wanted to spend it relaxing at home, so they were all enjoying their late breakfast and talking with each other about everything and more.

Y/n made her way to the coffee machine for the second time that morning and Natasha chuckled at her state; eyes puffy from tiredness, as if she hadn’t slept a wink, hair messy, she didn’t care enough to look at least presentable today.

“Aren’t you a treat for the eyes?” She teased and y/n just grunted in response, chugging down a large sip of her coffee.

Only after she had drank the second mug, she rubbed her face with her hands and tried to pat down the messy hair by combing it with her fingers.

She turned to look around the room, finding Natasha and Wanda sitting near her talking about God knows what, she wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

Steve was standing a few feet away, reading a newspaper like a grandpa. No matter how much anybody tried to convince him to read the news online, he insisted that actually touching the newspaper was quite a feeling. Weird old man.

Bruce and Tony were just next to Steve talking about their next science project, apparently, and Vision was creepily floating on Tony’s left side, listening intently to what they were saying.

Just as she averted her eyes to look for somebody else, Sam entered the kitchen looking so much better than last night, a bright smile adorning his silly handsome face.

“Good morning everyone.” He greeted cheerfully and all the people in the room greeted him back with the same enthusiasm.

Steve was the first to fold the newspaper he was reading and got up from his seat, patting Sam on the shoulder and asking him if he was doing okay.

When they both sat down again Y/n went to Sam with a plate of pancakes Wanda had made earlier and a cup of hot coffee, offering it to him.

His eyes shone bright and he stretched his arms out to give her a hug. “You’re an angel.” He said only for her to hear and she grinned in response.

“Do you know where Bucky is?” Y/n then asked when she sat down next to both men. “Is he still sleeping?”

Steve shifted in his seat uncomfortably and smiled sweetly her way, trying to not make his best friend look weird in y/n’s eyes.

“No, he actually got up about an hour ago and he left the compound. Said he had some work to do.”

Y/n only nodded her head in understanding.

She knew today was Bucky’s birthday and she knew how much he hated it, just like he hated making a big deal out of it, like celebrating or throwing a party. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t even wish him “Happy birthday”. However if he was out of the compound all day there was no way for her to do that either.

If there was one thing y/n knew though, was that she wasn’t going to let this go. No matter how much Bucky tried to disappear on his birthday as a way to avoid the wishes and presents and whatnot, y/n was a really stubborn person, so she wouldn’t let him off the hook easily this time.

Last year she had made him a cake and when all the team were having dinner together she brought the cake out singing “happy birthday” to Bucky. What she didn’t expect though, was for him to get upset with her and storm out of the room.

When she went after him to ask what was wrong he yelled at her saying that 'She didn’t have to do anything for him. They were not even friends so why would she care about his birthday. He didn’t even care about his own birthday!!’

But that was last year though. Last year Y/n was new to the team and Bucky was right, they weren’t even friends. They were barely teammates at that point.

This year however, things were different.

With each passing day after that 'dreadful one’, as y/n jokingly calls it now, they have actually created a special bond with each other, relying on each other a little more than they both would care to admit. It was a unusual connection, something neither of them could name. Something between more than friends but less than lovers. Something between denial and acceptance of feelings. Feelings they still hadn’t labelled.

9:15 PM

Bucky hadn’t returned to the compound the whole day. She had been waiting for him to come back sometime, but after waiting around for most of the day, she decided to stop sulking around in her room waiting for Friday to let her know when he was back.

With a newfound purpose she made her way to the kitchen and got out everything she needed from the cupboards to make little cupcakes. Every flavor she could think of; chocolate and peanut butter, vanilla, chocolate filling, sprinkles strawberry, red velvet.

After whole hours of mixing and baking she put them all in a serving tray, putting them on the counter for anyone who would pass by the kitchen to see and eat.

All but one. She picked a chocolate one and a small birthday candle and headed to Bucky’s room. She knew he wasn’t back yet, but she figured she could wait for him there.

After more than half an hour waiting and still no sign of Bucky, y/n was starting to feel sleepy.

She glanced at the small clock on his nightstand, bright red numbers shining 11:54 PM on the screen.

Figuring it was only 6 more minutes until his birthday would be over, she just lit the candle and placed the cupcake on the nightstand as well, the candle slowly burning. She decided to lay down on his bed to rest her eyes for a moment before he would come back.

She knew he was about to come back. With the day finally being over and everything.

It was strange how well she knew him. But then again, they had spent the best of last year’s together, most of the time attached to the hip and during this whole time they had learned almost everything about each other.

With thoughts of him in mind she fell asleep slowly, then all at once.

11:57 PM

Bucky sighed when he arrived at the compound. He had been all day out wandering around New York, mostly in Brooklyn, comparing new stores with the old ones, alleys, streets, bars, everything.

He opened the door to his room quietly, force of habit really, this whole having to always be quiet thing. But he also didn’t want to make too much noise that could wake any of the guys up, especially Steve whose room was next to his.

Just as he got inside his room, his eyes fell on the body that was curled on his bed, sleeping soundly. Then to the cupcake on the nightstand, with the candle almost entirely melted, but still lighting. His mind connected the dots easily and he let out a breath he didn’t know was holding.

He shuffled awkwardly around the room until he decided to wake y/n up, going to the bed, half hovering over her.

“Y/n…” He shook her arm slightly, but it was enough for her to wake up.

“Bucky.” She smiled at him sweetly, one of her smiles that was always directed to him and he knew that well.

Her eyes quickly averted to the cupcake beside her and she got herself up, now sitting on the bed and quickly took the small dessert in her hands. The clock was showing the time 11:59 PM.

“Quick, blow it!” The candle was half out, just a small flame hanging in there, like a last breath of life.

Upon seeing the hopeful glint in her eyes, he blew the candle out without a second thought and she smiled at him again.

“Happy Birthday Bucky!” Her voice was barely a whisper but he heard it clear.

Not wanting to break her heart with his grumpiness he smiled back and thanked her.

“Did you make a wish?”

He nodded his head softly.

He had made his wish way before that moment. Actually, since the moment he saw her enter the compound after Nick Fury when she was just a new recruit. Then he had made his wish when she made a birthday cake for him in his last birthday. And he had made his wish yesterday before they went on that mission, and after they came back.

He had been making wishes every day since the day he met her. And it was always the same.

With big eyes she was looking at his face, expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what he wished for.

Instead he showed her.

Putting the cupcake back on the nightstand he took her hands in his and closed the distance between them, kissing her softly. He lightly swept his tongue between her lips, pressing his warm, soft lips to hers.

She sighed against his mouth and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. Maybe he could learn to love his birthday again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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thesassenachswiftie · 3 years

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Lover - Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12

Summary: Claire and Jo go Christmas shopping; Claire gets a call at work that Lamb’s in the hospital in Boston where she fears she will need to spend the holidays without Jamie. In short: angst, but make it festive.

" This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'Cause I have to

Ooh-ah, you'll get better..."

CW: cancer, hospitals, illness of a loved one,

Notes: First of all, if you’re still here, thank you for reading, and thank you for bearing with me as I took a small hiatus. Hopefully I will be getting back to a more regular posting schedule, but work is really draining right now and it’s hard to find enough hours in the day to do everything.

As you know, each Chapter of this fic is based off a Taylor Swift song by the same name. This one was particularly difficult to write/approach because I actually haven’t listened to this song in over a year. In early Summer 2019, a tumor was found on my grandfather’s brain. This was also the summer I discovered Outlander, and the summer Taylor Swift released Lover. The day after Lover came out, I broke down sobbing in my apartment listening to this song and thinking about my grandfather, knowing his condition was worsening. That night, I recieved the call that my grandfather had passed. He was the kindest, purest soul and I write this chapter in part as a tribute to him. Many of the experiences Claire and Lamb share are based on my own experiences with my grandpa that summer, and this version of Lamb is very much based on my Grandpa Jim.

That being said, you may want to grab a box of tissues before reading, but hopefully not all your tears will be sad. I’m hoping to post again before Chistmas, but in case I don’t Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays--and Happy Hanukkah to any Jewish readers I may have--here is a Hanukkah present for you!

Chapter 13: “Soon You’ll Get Better”

“All I want for Christmas is yooouuuuu” the sounds of Mariah Carey rang out throughout the small boutique gift shop in the heart of the village of Northport.

“Good God, we’re only a week into December and I swear I’ve already heard this song three hundred times. I’m not exaggerating either. Two hundred and eight-four at the very least.” Jo scoffed exasperatedly.

“Are you complaining?” Claire asked in reply. “It’s a great song--a classic really.”

“Do you know how many incredible, amazing, beautiful, jolly Christmas songs there are in existence?” Jo was gearing up for one of their famous rants, “Yet, the radio stations only ever play the same eighteen songs, I swear!”

“It must be more than eighteen.”

“Fine. Twenty. Take this song for instance: Ingrid Michaelson has the most hauntingly beautiful cover of it--do you ever hear it? No! You only ever hear Mariah!”

“I, for one, like Mariah!” Claire interjected, playfully defensive.

“Who doesn’t? But she’s not the only powerhouse female vocalist out there! I’d just like to see a little diversity in my holiday music, is that so much to ask?”

Claire giggled. Her best friend always had an opinion on everything and she loved them all the more for it. “Do you think Jenny would like this candle?” Claire unscrewed the lid a locally-made jar candle, taking a sniff before placing it under Jo’s nose. It smelled like Lavender and Sage with just a hint of Eucalyptus.

“Does Jenny keep a lot of candles around, with all those children?” Jo chuckled back. “It does smell nice though.” Jo had only met Jenny a couple times when visiting Claire, but they had a knack for reading people and Claire was glad to have them along as a shopping partner.

“I suppose candles aren’t really her thing. Jenny seems very practical, but I don’t know what she would need that she doesn’t already have, and Jamie’s been no help!”

“I think you’re on the right track with the self-care/relaxation vibe, but maybe not something the children can use to burn the house down. What about an artisanal lotion set?” Jo inquired, gesturing at a nearby display.

“Oh that might work!” Claire took a squirt from the bottle labeled ‘tester’ inhaling deeply as she rubbed it between her palms. “Ooo that’s nice, I would appreciate this if I were a hardworking mother.”

“If things keep going the way they are with your man, LJ, you might just be before you know it” Jo made a lewd gesture with their hands, raising their eyebrows to make it clear exactly what they were implying.

“Jo! You’re terrible” Claire shrieked, smacking her friend playfully on the arm. Besides, not much of that happening these days if you haven’t noticed, Jamie is literally across the ocean.”

“Well, at least you can’t get knocked up from phone sex,” Jo replied. “What are you getting him anyway? I’m thinking something lacy and strappy, with little bows on it of course, to be festive. There’s a place down the street that might have something like that.”

“Hmm” Claire exhaled. “We’ll see.” Claire knew lingerie was definitely going to be part of Jamie’s Christmas gift, one she would be most excited for him to unwrap. God, she missed him. It had been over a month and they were settling into a routine, video chatting every night, sweet texts back and forth throughout the day, the occasional phone sex when they were both sick with desire for one other--but nothing was the same as the feel of their bodies pressed against each other in the heat of the moment, chasing each other’s climax. Claire couldn’t wait to be reunited with him in every way.

It was two days before Christmas break, only a few days left until Claire would find freedom for the next ten days and, most of all--the comfort of Jamie’s arms. Claire was sitting in her school nurse’s office, inhaling deeply during the first quiet moments she’d had all week. There was an uptick of student visits in the past couple weeks--a few were legitimate concerns tied to cold and flu season: students whose parents sent them to school when they weren’t quite well enough, overachievers who wanted to maintain their perfect attendance dragging themselves to school despite their bodies protestations. Most of her patients however, were suffering from something much more insidious: the eagerness to start their winter break early by skipping their classes. This time of year the air of the school felt different, students and teachers alike were burnt out, apathetic, and ready for a break. This attitude in the students fed into the teachers’ attitudes--overworked with the end of the marking period, trying to squeeze in Christmas shopping and decorating between grading. Claire did not envy Jo nor any of the other teachers during this time, but their exhaustion was so palpable in the air of the school that she was starting to feel it too. By tomorrow, most teachers would be shutting their doors and playing a holiday film, giving up on instruction all together--hopefully that would make for a quiet day for Claire. Really, if she could just get through the rest of the day it would be smooth sailing until Christmas--until Jamie.

Her silent musings were broken by the blaring sound of her office phone. She was expecting a teacher, calling to send a student down, but instead it was the school clerk, Glenda. “Hi Nurse Beauchamp, we have an outside call for you, it seems like it may be a personal call so if there’s any students with you we can send someone down to watch them if you’d like to take it privately here in the office.”

Claire's heart sank to her stomach. What could it be? She took a deep breath and swallowed to brace herself before replying “last student just left.”

“Alright, I’ll transfer you now.” The click of the call transferring sounded through the phone.

“Hello, this is Miss Beauchamp”

“Hello Miss Beauchamp, I’m Tammy, a nurse at Mass General we’re calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Quentin Beauchamp” a nasally voice croaked through the phone speaker--the voice was impersonal like that of a cashier saying “have a nice day” for the thousandth time, not fitting of a potential harbinger of death.

“Yes…” Claire replied, nervously, questioningly.

“Mr. Lambert was admitted this morning after showing signs of cognitive distress. An initial cat scan shows a mass on his brain. He’s currently undergoing testing to see if it’s cancerous.”

Claire’s lungs felt like they were about to collapse. Lamb had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years ago, but had been able to live with it through treatment. Claire also knew that cancer was insidious and could spread throughout the body rapidly and without warning. She knew it was very likely that the mass was cancer. She tried to find her medical professional voice, but a diagnosis was different when it was someone you loved. Instead, she croaked out, “when will you know?”

“We should have the results by tomorrow. He’ll stay here overnight for monitoring and we’ll decide whether to admit him long term from there.”

“I’m on Long Island, should I drive up?”

“I’m afraid it’s too soon to tell, it could be nothing, but--” Claire cut her off, knowing exactly how bad it could be.

“I understand. I’ll drive up this evening.”

“Alright, he should be back in his room by then, he’s out getting his tests done now. It’s room 713 when you get here.” Claire wrote the number on a bright blue sticky note on her desk as the nurse spoke. “Have a nice day Ms. Beauchamp”

“Hmm” was all she could reply, as if she could possibly have a nice day. She hung up the phone, and finally let the deluge of tears she’d been holding back free.

She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes to get it out, but she knew she had to get to Boston as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and dialed the main office.

“Hi Glenda, it’s Claire. I need to take the rest of the day off--I have to go to Boston, my uncle…” she couldn’t say it out loud for fear of unleashing the tears again “Is Principal Gowan there, I need to let him know.”

“Oh Nurse Beauchamp, I’m so sorry to hear that, let me know if you need anything. Mr. Gowan’s in his office, I’ll transfer you to him now, if he doesn’t answer just pack up your things and go, I’ll take care of it”

“Thanks Glenda, I really appreciate it”

----------

After getting the ok from her kind and understanding principal, Claire rushed back to Jamie’s apartment, hastily packed a bag (likely forgetting several things), informed Jenny where she was going--which was met with sympathy and genuine concern--and hopped back in the car for the journey to Boston. She entered the hospital doors several hours later, the buttons of her coat were tangled in her hair as she rushed, breathless, to the front desk to receive her visitor’s pass.

When she arrived at Lamb’s room, he was asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know she was there before settling into the armchair beside him to await his awakening. He looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, not at all like the strong, spirited man who had raised her. He had left the television on--some sports channel was playing a highlight reel of various golfing moments. No wonder Lamb fell asleep. Claire was staring at the screen, but her thoughts were elsewhere: worried about Lamb, wondering if she’d remember everything when she hastily packed, wondering what the future held. Would she have to spend Christmas in this hospital room? A golf ball soared across the Scottish Highlands on the screen. Jamie. Jamie was coming home Christmas Eve, she was supposed to pick him up from the airport, supposed to spend her holiday break with him, experience her first Hogmanay with the Murray family, be surrounded by love and laughter and family. Lamb was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to take the train down, spend Christmas with them. Every plan they had made was shattered into a million pieces. Would she even be able to see Jamie? She thought about the presents she’d bought for him, not yet wrapped, piled in the closet but definitely not hidden, especially considering it was his apartment. Of course he’d understand--she could tell him where they were, but the magic of unwrapping would be lost, it would feel entirely unsentimental. It was bad enough that she felt her gifts weren’t sentimental enough--what could she possibly get him to show how special he was to her? How could she communicate that with an object? If she were a painter she would paint him a painting, if she were a songwriter she would write him a song, but she was simply Claire, and practical gifts were all she knew. She had purchased a cozy blue sweater to match his eyes and keep him warm in the brisk London winters, a cool multi-tool the size of a credit card that would fit in his wallet and help him solve a variety of problems, a protective case for his phone, and a box of artisanal beef jerky. She had also procured a complicated piece of lingerie with a big red bow across the chest for him to unwrap the night of Christmas, which she knew he would enjoy. Everything was thoughtful enough and mostly practical, but she longed to be able to give him something truly special--a grand gesture to match her feelings for him. Claire glanced back at her uncle and immediately felt guilty being so selfish. I hate to make this all about me. Lamb always had a knack for helping her realize what was important when life’s situations overwhelmed her. She needed him for perspective, but how could she talk to him about this? How could she tell him how she felt? She knew it was wrong, but she was mad at him for getting sick so close to Christmas. Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you? The tears were welling up in her eyes as she watched her most beloved uncle sleep--hooked up to machines, pale and listless in the hospital bed.

Claire slipped into the adjoining bathroom to try to compose herself--she didn’t want her uncle to wake up and see her upset, she knew he would try to comfort her, to be the rock he always had been for her. She was here to be his rock this time, she needed to stay strong for him. She looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself it was going to be ok--her uncle was strong and he’d been fighting a long time--he’d continue to fight. Soon you’ll get better. She had to convince herself it was true, pretend it wasn’t real, it wasn’t so bad. She knew it was a delusion, she could see it all over her glass face when she looked in the mirror. She was genuinely afraid that this could be when she lost him, if not physically right away, he could be lost mentally. She’d been hoping for years he would get better, but now it seemed he’d taken a turn for the worse. She took a few deep breaths and offered up a prayer. She wasn’t usually religious, but they say desperate people find faith, so she decided it was time to try. God? Jesus? Whoever is up there. I know I don’t much deserve anything from you, I’m not sure I’m exactly on good terms with you, but I’m inclined to believe you care and you are good. Besides, I’m not really asking anything for myself, not really. I just pray my Uncle is ok, I pray he gets better. He has to. Please don’t take his brilliant mind away from him. Please let him be ok. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. Just please, please, don’t take him away from me. I need him. Please let him get better. Please let him get better. Claire continued to repeat the words like a mantra as she returned to her bedside chair. She stared at the collection of orange bottles on the tray table. Please let them help him get better. Please let him get better. Please, please, please let him get better.

Claire had no idea how long she sat there, repeating those words to herself, but her silent appeal was interrupted when a nurse entered the room to check her uncle’s vitals.

“Hi, I’m Brenda, I’ll be the nurse on duty tonight.” Brenda erased a name on a small whiteboard in front of the room and replaced it with her own.

“I’m Claire, I’m his niece.”

Brenda had made her way over to the other side of the bed and was checking the monitors beside the bed, making notes on the chart in her hand. “I hate waking them up, but I’m going to have to.” Claire was glad that she was much kinder than the nurse she had spoken with on the phone earlier—had that really been earlier? It seemed much longer since that phone call. “Excuse me, Quentin? Sir?” Brenda gently nudged his arm to awaken him. Lamb’s eyes fluttered open and he looked disoriented, Claire watched him carefully hoping that his disorientation was solely from being awoken mid-sleep and not from any neurological damage.

“Hi Uncle Lamb” Claire stammered, hoping she sounded cheerful anyway.

“Claire! My girl! You came all the way to see your old uncle!”

“Of course I did! How are you?” she replied warmly.

“Oh, I’m fine, they’re taking good care of me here.” Lamb’s voice sounded genuinely content and Claire felt comforted for the first time since the hospital had called her earlier that day.

“Hello sir, my name’s Brenda, I’ll be your nurse tonight. I just need to ask you a few questions and check your vitals.”

“What is your name?”

“Quentin Lambert Beauchamp”

“Good. When is your birthday?

“March 23th, 1939”

“Good, and who is the president?”

“Well, unfortunately…” both Claire and Brenda giggled at how Lamb began his sentence. Claire was well aware of Lamb’s opinions of the current president of the United States, and was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sly sense of humor or his disdain for the man. She was also glad he knew who the president was, hopefully his mental capacities were more promising than the worst-case-scenario her mind was conjuring.

----------

Claire stayed by her uncle’s side for the rest of the night, only leaving the room twice, once to find something to eat from a vending machine, and once for her nightly call to Jamie. She allowed herself to break down when talking to Jamie, sobbing over the phone. Jamie did his best to comfort her through the speaker, desperately wishing he could be there for her in person. Claire wished the same, longing to curl up in his strong embrace, and bury her swollen face in his chest. She couldn’t bring up the fact that she might have to spend Christmas in Boston. She was enough of a mess without facing the reality that they wouldn’t see each other, and when Jamie promised they’d see each other soon at the end of their call, Claire hung up quickly as another wave of emotion overtook her and she buried her face in her hands to cry some more.

The next morning, the doctor came in with Lamb’s results. Claire grasped Lamb’s hand, unsure of who was holding onto whom for comfort as the doctor explained that the mass on Lamb’s brain was in fact cancerous, but it was still relatively small and had been caught early. He explained that they could operate on it and remove it, however there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back or that they’d be able to get it all out. It was moments like these where Claire desperately wished she was already a surgeon, that she could feel in control of the outcome--though could she operate on her own uncle? Would she be able to hold her hand steady enough to do a good job? No, perhaps it was best left to the veteran surgeons in Boston.

After discussing all the details and options with the doctor’s, Lamb decided to go through with the surgery. It was scheduled for the day after Christmas and Claire resigned herself to the sobering fact that she’d be spending the holidays in the hospital. As the florescent hospital lights lit the room with an unnatural glow, Claire couldn’t tell him she was scared. She had to stay strong, she had to keep it together and remain positive and supportive.

----------

Claire spent the next few days devoted to her uncle, rarely leaving his bedside. Lamb had forced her to spend the nights at his apartment, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with and the recliner at the hospital was only making matters worse. Claire was present and doting on him from morning to night though, helping her uncle order his meals, assisting him when he needed to use the restroom, adding and removing pillows and blankets as needed, or anything else he needed or wanted. Lamb had been moved to the cancer floor, and the window of his new room had a nice view of the Boston skyline. Lamb was making the best of a bad deal, he bragged about his ‘luxury accommodations’, he cracked jokes often, he liked the nicer nurses, he ordered extra dessert with all his meals and was in generally pleasant spirits. Claire could see the cracks in his cognition though. Sometimes he would change the topic he was discussing mid-sentence, and he couldn’t seem to keep time straight. Whenever anyone would mention Christmas, he would act surprised to know that it was coming up, and at one point he hinted at Claire that she might just get those roller skates she wanted for Christmas, a gift she had not asked for since she was eleven years old. He didn’t seem to know what year it was or how old Claire was. He did know who Claire was though, and for that she was thankful. He also knew who the president was whenever the nurses asked, always beginning his answer with a short preamble to make known his disdain.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Claire couldn’t hide the sadness she felt on her face. She was glad to spend the evening with Lamb, but she had been looking forward to her first big family Christmas. She had filled in Jamie about Lamb’s condition and her subsequent stay in Boston over the course of their phone calls that week. She had also describe the Christmas gifts she had purchased for the Murrays, Jo, and Lamb, so Jamie would know the rest were for him. Jamie had agreed to put the Murrays gifts in gift bags and distribute them for her. They were meant to exchange family gifts that evening, the morning being reserved for Santa, and Claire was heartbroken to be missing out. In a matter of hours, and for the first time in two months, her and Jamie would be on the same continent, yet they wouldn’t be able to see each other. There was no way Claire could get into the Christmas spirit under these conditions. The hospital, despite being modestly decorated, was not the most festive atmosphere. Even a troop of Girl Scouts caroling their way through the hospital halls did nothing to assuage the weight of losing everything Claire had been looking forward to for the past two months.

“What’s a matter, my dear?” Lamb asked, showing genuine concern for his niece.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, I promise, I’m just wishing things were different today.”

“Why today? Is it something special? I can’t seem to remember.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. You were supposed to come to Long Island and meet Jamie. We were going to spend the holiday with his family.”

“Yes, I remember, that’s today? Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your gift yet I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine, Lamb, I’m afraid I left your gift at home, so we’ll have to do that part later. We can take a raincheck on gift exchanging. I was just really looking forward to you getting to know Jamie.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet the lad soon; he seems really special to you.”

“He is; I know you’ll like him.”

“I already do.” He patted the top of her hand and turned his attention back to the sitcom on the television, providing humorous commentary to try to cheer Claire up.

----------

It was late Christmas morning. Uncle Lamb was napping again and Claire had switched the television to the Hallmark Channel--usually her guilty pleasure this season, today it was simply reminding her of how her Christmas was proving to be less than magical. For her there would be no Christmas kisses, no magical snowfall, no saving the small town family business or learning to love Christmas again. All that awaited her this Christmas were fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and nurses visiting every 6 hours to check her uncle’s vitals. This Christmas would be decidedly the most un-magical she had ever experienced. She had had her share of unconventional Christmases in the past, in fact, she never really was a Christmas person, but it had started to feel special to her when she was living in New York. This Christmas though--this was one she was looking forward to more than ever before. Claire spent most of the morning crying, grieving over all she was missing. She should have spent the morning curled up in Jamie’s arms, watching the children open presents. She could picture the Murray’s living room, trashed with colorful wrapping paper from end to end, each child in their own private world fascinated by their latest favorite toy, Jenny and Ian beaming through tired eyes.

Claire was surprised Jamie hadn’t called her to fill her in on the details yet. He had called yesterday when his plane arrived--groggy and jet-lagged, his communication skills were not the most eloquent, but he tried his best to make her feel better. She hadn’t heard from him at all this morning though, not even a Merry Christmas text. Surely the jet lag would have woken him up as early as the children, and they must have been done opening presents by now. Claire tried to rationalize that Jamie was just spending time with his family, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt and ignored. She thought she was important enough to him that he could take a moment away from his family to at least text her, or to find some way to make her feel included from afar. Had his feelings changed in their months apart? Did coming home to a messy apartment turn him off? Did she find his Christmas gifts and come to think she didn’t care enough to get him something more thoughtful? She thought about calling him, but a mixture of pride and fear kept her from acting first, not to mention she couldn’t stop crying over these sappy Christmas movies.

Suddenly, a voice from the doorway rang through the room, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Claire looked up in confusion, momentarily unable to comprehend her surroundings and the disruption that had just entered them. Santa? No. The tall figure filling the door frame was dressed like Santa, beard and all, but the unmistakable Scottish burr gave away his true identity. If Claire hadn’t already been crying, she certainly was now. Jamie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a Santa suit, carrying a large, blue IKEA bag overflowing with wrapped presents and what appeared to be Christmas decorations.

“What?” Claire could hardly believe he was there, she rose from the chair and the couple met in the middle of the room for a hearty embrace. Claire buried her face in the soft, fluffy suit covering Jamie’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps the setting wasn’t a snow covered street in a small town, but this was her own Hallmark movie moment--and to be honest, those Hallmark guys had nothing on James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Jamie held her close, and tight, planting kisses in her curls and whispering softly to her.

“I’m here, mo nighean donn.” He caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, not releasing his embrace in the slightest, breathing in her scent, trying to absorb her fears and pain.

All of the commotion had awoken Uncle Lamb and after witnessing the couples’ embrace for longer than was comfortable, Lamb loudly cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the room.

“Uncle Lamb!” Claire unfolded herself from Jamie’s embrace, keeping one arm around his back. Jamie sheepishly pulled the fake beard down around his neck to reveal his face and removed his Santa hat, clutching it tightly in the palm that wasn’t holding Claire. “This is Jamie, my Jamie. Jamie, this is my Uncle Lamb.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad it’s not Santa Claus, or we’d have a lot of explaining to do to the lad!” Lamb chuckled back.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” Jamie reluctantly released Claire from his grasp to step beside the bed, extending a firm but gentle hand to Lamb. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, lad” Lamb replied, patting Jamie’s hand with his before releasing their handshake. “And don’t you worry about me, I have the best nurse there is taking care of me.” Two sets of proudly smiling eyes met Claire across the room.

“Oh I dinna doubt it for a second. Your niece is a rare woman.”

“Glad to see we’re in agreement. Now what’s all that?” Lamb gestured towards the large tote discarded near Claire’s feet.

“Aye, I thought I’d bring you two a bit o’ holiday cheer.” Jamie pulled a large cardboard box from the bag and extracted a small tabletop Christmas tree from it, unfurling each branch carefully and placing it on the countertop across the room, plugging it in to reveal fiber optic lights changing colors dreamily. “I usually insist on my Christmas trees being more, well, alive, but under the circumstances this’ll have tae do.” Jamie and Claire spent the next half hour or so festooning the room in garlands and placing tiny ornaments on the small tree. Claire tried to ignore that more than half of the bag was filled with brightly wrapped gifts, not sure whether she was hoping they were all for her, or hoping that they weren’t. After all, she didn’t have anything to give him and she didn’t know if he had looked through his gifts yet nor if he had appreciated them.

While they decorated, Jamie filled Claire and Lamb in on the events of the last few days. Jamie had called Jenny to tell her not to bother picking him up from the airport. He had planned on renting a car there and driving straight to Boston. Claire could hear Jenny’s voice loud and clear through Jamie’s imitation “ya clotheid! Have ya gone daft? Yer barely able to form coherent sentences amidst the jet lag from yer Christmas Eve flight, and ya wanna drive five hours tae Boston in that state!?! Claire willna appreciate ya ending up in a ditch on the side of the road as a Christmas present ya eejit!” Jenny had made a fair point, and Jamie had agreed to sleep at home and left shortly after he awoke that morning, staying only long enough for the children to open their stockings, and to watch their faces alight with surprise at the sudden appearance of piles of presents under and around the tree.

“I’m glad you took Jenny’s advice, but most of all I’m glad you’re here.” She embraced him again. “You didn’t have to do this though, Jamie, I know how important your family is to you.”

Jamie stepped back and lifted Claire’s chin with his thumb, looking into her eyes. “You are important to me, Sassenach.” he replied, with a sincerity that penetrated Claire’s heart. Claire responded by kissing Jamie chastely on the cheek, knowing her uncle was only four feet away--politely trying to ignore them and watch the television which he had flipped to an all-day marathon of A Christmas Story on repeat. Jamie’s welcome intrusion broke up the monotony of hospital life and seemed to give Lamb a better sense of what day it was.

“Now that we’ve got the place looking good and festive, I believe it’s traditional to exchange gifts on Christmas day.”

“Jamie, it’s too much, I--”

“Oh? Thought they were all for you, didja Sassenach?” he teased. Claire blushed. Of course; she hadn’t really--but who else would they be for? Surely Jamie wouldn’t spoil Lamb, a complete stranger to him, quite so much, and no one else was there. She looked dumbfounded as she tried to come up with a defense but Jamie stopped her. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, Jenny wrapped your gifts for me and Lamb before I could see and I bought them along too. She thanks ya for the wee lotions, by the way.”

“God bless Jenny! That woman is a Saint.” Claire also silently thanked God that she had left the present she was planning on wearing for Jamie that evening in her dresser drawer, that was not a gift she wanted Jenny to see, and was definitely not something she wanted him to be opening in front of her uncle.

The three exchanged gifts, save Lamb, who had nothing to give but smiles and approval for the young couples’ thoughtful gifts. Jamie was genuinely appreciative of Claire’s gifts, although she kept insisting that she hadn’t finished shopping and there was more to come; to which Jamie humbly rejected, claiming it wasn’t necessary. Jamie’s gifts to Claire were thoughtful and meaningful, the most touching ones being a print of a painting of the rose garden he had ordered from the Botanic Garden’s gift shop and a bracelet engraved with the words perennis amor, which caused Claire to tear up and embrace him tenderly in spite of her uncle’s presence.

The three enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. A Christmas Story played in the background and they laughed and shared stories with one another. Jamie was a born storyteller and Lamb was elated to have a fresh audience to recount his many adventures to, so conversation flowed naturally between them, with Claire occasionally interjecting. Claire mostly just sat back and admired the two men who were most important to her, filled with joy that they were getting along, that Jamie was there, that it was Christmas. For the first time in several days she had hope and peace. She was surrounded by love in that hospital room as well. She had all the things Christmas was said to bring, and for that she was grateful. Jamie had made her greatest Christmas wishes come true without her even asking and she felt lucky to be alive.

The hospital staff served their version of Christmas dinner for the small family, and while Claire was sure it paled in comparison to whatever Jenny had made, it was quite delicious, especially considering it was hospital food. Jamie ate in the armchair next to Lamb at Claire’s insistence, since the two were deep in conversation, and Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jamie, taking in her magical Christmas scene, better than any Hallmark movie could depict.

After dinner, Jamie was fading fast, listening to one of Lamb’s stories with heavy eyes. She took one of the spare blankets and covered Jamie. “Looks like you’re still not over your jet lag”

“Hrmmphh, I ‘spose not.”

“Do you want me to go get you a coffee? I doubt the cafe downstairs is open today, but there’s a cappuccino vending machine a few floors down that isn’t terrible.”

“Aye Sassenach, that’d be bonny. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all, my love, I’ll be back soon.” Claire squeezed his hand before leaving the two men alone.

Jamie listened to her footsteps down the hall, and waited until he heard the ding of the elevator before he cleared his throat to speak frankly to Lamb. He sat up straight in the chair to ward off the sleepiness, having a few important things he wanted to say before Claire came back.

“Lamb, I need you to know, Claire is the most important person in my life. I love her sae much and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I can see how happy you make her. She lights up when you’re around, it comforts my old heart to see.”

“I need you tae know, I’m very serious about her. I ken we haven’t been together that long, but I know--I know deep in my wame that I’m meant tae be hers. I want ya to know that I intend on spending the rest of my life making her happy, and while I havna bought a ring or ennathing yet, I wanted to ask yer blessing” Jamie paused for a moment before adding, “just in case.”

“Of course you have my blessing, son. I couldn’t be more glad to know that Claire will be so well cared for after I’m gone, truly.” Both men looked somber, knowing full well that this could be their last conversation, hoping dearly that it wasn’t. Claire returned with three cappuccinos in hand, surprised by the mood in the room.

“Everything alright, gentlemen? Don’t tell me Ralphie shot his eye out!”

“Och! Everything’s fine, Claire! I’m just tired is all, I’m sure this wee cappuccino will cure me in no time!” replied Jamie, eagerly taking a cup from Claire as she set another on Lamb’s tray table. The rest of the evening was quiet as Jamie took a nap, while Lamb and Claire watched A Christmas Story more intently then they had all day. Claire didn’t want to leave him alone so early on Christmas so she let Jamie nap until Lamb was asleep soundly for the night. The sense of joy she had felt all day was still present, but the nagging worry she felt about Lamb’s coming surgery was starting to settle in as well. Claire woke Jamie gently and Claire whispered softly to Lamb that they’d return in the morning, squeezing his hand before the couple quietly left the room.

----------

They walked out to Jamie’s car, since he still had his stuff packed in it, but Claire drove them back to Lamb’s apartment where she’d been staying. The cappuccino was helping Jamie stay coherent, but he was in no state to drive. They were quiet on the drive home, but kept their hands locked between the seats, grateful just to be in the presence of one another.

When they arrived at Lamb’s apartment, Jamie was so tired, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth, let alone do any of his usual nightly routines. However, he had spent the morning sweating in a polyester Santa suit over his clothes, and although he took it off shortly after his surprise arrival, he felt in need of a shower. Claire showed him where the bathroom was and made sure he had everything he needed, and got herself ready for bed.

Jamie showered quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, and only cleaning the parts of his body where any stench would be most concentrated, figuring the water would take care of the rest. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, ready to collapse into bed, but not before embracing his sorcha. He scooped her into his embrace and she buried her face in his bare, firm chest, warm from the shower. He smelled clean, and fresh and most of like Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Jamie. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.” the emotions of the day hit her again and her voice caught at the end of her sentence as tears filled her eyes once again. Jamie kissed her forehead softly, down to her nose, and landed on her lips, giving her the firm, passionate kiss they’d both been longing for all day--and for months before that.

“Mo cridhe.” Jamie breathed when they separated. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll no’ leave you alone when ya need me.”

“Oh Jamie” Claire was still crying, “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to stay strong for Lamb, but I feel like this won’t go back to normal--if there ever was a normal with him. I’m scared he’s going to get worse, or--” her sentence dissolved into a fit of sobs, which she tried to stifle on Jamie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay strong when you’re with me. I’ll be here to help you shoulder the burden. I’ll be here to soak up your tears. There’s two of us now, Claire.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. “You can feel your feelings now, mo cridhe. Lay your cares on me. Come now, let’s get ya tae bed. I’m no’ sure how much longer I can stand myself.”

Claire fell asleep wrapped safely in Jamie’s embrace, free to be herself fully. Free to be vulnerable she felt safe, she felt loved, she felt comfortable, and most new to her--she felt she had the hope and strength that she could carry on, no matter what was to come. She slept better than she had in weeks, secure in the embrace of her eternal love.

End Notes: Thanks again for reading!! By the way, the Ingrid Michaelson song Jo mentions is hauntingly beautiful and you should listen to it. Also, I hope you liked Jamie's surprise. This was going to be a lot more angsty of a chapter but Jamie refused to let Claire suffer and had other plans. I know this was full of a lot of emotional ups and downs, and hopefully we can all find some comfort in the fact that just because Christmas/the holidays may look different for a lot of us this year, it can still be special, and there's still light, joy, love, hope, and peace to be found in the midst of the darkness.

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

Photo

julie’s ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke’s about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they’ve just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

DAYS GO BY AND SEASONS CHANGE (LETS TRY AGAIN NEXT WINTER)

trigger warnings!! swearing and mentions of death (julies mum)

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

autumn

There was a parcel waiting for her at the school's little post office building. It wasn’t a very big box, about the size of a shoe box, if she had to guess. It was just a little too big to fit in her bag at least. The handwriting on the label was hard to read, the ‘j’ in her name looking more like a ‘t’ and her last name practically blurring together. Julie suddenly understands why the girl working behind the desk had taken so long to find it and looked so unsure when handing it over.

Julie thinks back to her last call with her dad, tries to remember if he’d mentioned sending her anything. But it’s definitely not her dads writing or Victorias, and Carlos’ is messy but never this bad. It’s only when she puts it down on her desk when she’s back in her dorm room that she notices the postmark from France.

Which explains the who of it all, but not the what or the why.

With a frown, Julie tears the brown paper away and unfolds the flaps of the plain cardboard box that’s waiting for her. There’s a folded sheet of paper on top of something wrapped in grey tissue paper and she picks it up, carefully unfolding it.

Julie,

You gotta get back into music when you’re ready to, not before and not for anyone else. But, for whenever you do, I thought you might like these. And if you never do, you can always use them for school notes or something.

See you soon.

Luke x

She holds the note for a moment, staring at the words as if they’ll stop her heart from racing the way it is, because she’s pretty sure she knows what’s hiding under that tissue paper now. Biting her bottom lip Julie puts the note to the side and picks up the gift, gently peeling away the sellotape until she’s faced with two soft notebooks.

The first one is dark purple, soft faux leather with a cluster of stars embossed in the top right corner and the words ‘shine bright’ in silver lettering in the opposite bottom corner. Slowly, as if in a trance, Julie runs her fingers over the cover, opens to a random page to see the clean lined pages made of the thick sort of paper that you know won’t tear easily.

The second notebook is a dark blue, but this one has little music notes stamped in the corner. There’s no words or phrases written on this cover and for that she’s thankful because anymore words of encouragement might push her to the edge. She puts the two notebooks down on her desk, side by side.

Sitting back in her chair, Julie simply looks at them for a moment. Let’s herself think about how she feels about them. Because this is more than just some pretty notebooks and a kind message. She wonders if Luke knows, if he realises what that they might mean. But he must. She’s told him all about her struggles with music, how she’s lost that spark that wanted nothing more than to sing and play and write.

And he’d understood it. He’d got it. He’d also told her she was magical when she played, something she tried not to think too much about, but still remembered.

And he clearly remembered her mentioning once, in passing, how her favourite type of notebook are the ones that are slightly flexible, but feel solid when you hold them. She’s going to try not to think too much about what that means too.

Her fingers slowly trace over the lettering on the purple notebook as she thinks over his note.

‘When you’re ready’, which is part of the problem really. Because Julie doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready to play or write properly again without her mom.

But, she’d written with him.

The thought hits her suddenly and out of nowhere, a breath leaving her lips in a rush as she lets it settle within her. She’d been writing with him. She’d been sending him melodies over voice notes. She’d been scribbling lyric ideas in the margins of her work for weeks now.

Over facetime at 3am and on phone calls while she made herself lunch and silly little texts throughout the day. She’d been writing with him. She’d helped him finish songs without that all too familiar sense of missingmissingmissingmissing creeping in.

Tapping her fingers along the arm of her chair for a moment, she bites her lip, before shaking her head once and carefully wraps the notebooks back up in their tissue paper and puts them back in their box and pushes the whole thing to the back of her desk. Out of sight, out of mind. Sort of.

It’s one thing to suddenly realise she’s been slowly edging her way back into music, it’s another to dive head first when she’s not sure if anyone will be there to save her if she goes too deep, too soon.

(It’s two days later and after a facetime call with her dad that she pulls the purple notebook out of the box, picks up a pen, crawls onto her bed and writes something that feels real for the first time in nearly five years.

She calls Luke at 2am her time and 3am his, tears on her cheeks and rasp in her voice from lack of use and asks if she can play him a song. It’s a little rough and the second verse feels unfinished and she rushes through the last chorus too quickly, but when she’s finished the last note she feels more centred then she has in years.

“That was-” Luke trails off, and she can hear him breathing and suddenly wishes she’d done this as a facetime call instead, so she could see his face right now. See what he was thinking, feeling. Instead she’s left with bated breath and chewing on her bottom lip.

“Fuck Julie, that was amazing,” he lets out a short laugh, light and breathy like he can’t believe something, “You’re amazing. And talented and beautiful and a goddamn star.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, with so much conviction and surety in his words that for a moment, Julie believes him wholeheartedly.

“I think the second verse needs something, can you help me figure it out?” She asks after clearing her throat and brushing tears off her face. The simple ‘yeah’ she gets in answer makes her smile enough to think about the old notebooks carefully hidden in her suitcase and maybe finally looking at the songs she's avoided. )

It wasn’t until she’d started living in a different country, alone, that Julie realised how many different types of bread there were. Which was a weird thing to realise, she knew, but there were just so many to choose from. So many options. Too many options. She really hated having too many options. Decision making really wasn’t one of her special skills. And the longer she stood in front of the bread without Luke talking, the faster her thoughts seemed to loose all sense of focus.

Holding her phone against her ear Julie picked up the closest loaf of whole wheat bread she saw, it was seeded and while she was sure Victoria would have had something to say about it, she didn’t. Seeded bread it was. Maybe next week she’d branch out and try the weird half and half down on the bottom shelf. God, she needed to get out of the bread aisle.

Putting the bread in her trolley she pauses for a moment, head tilting to the side to try and hear if Luke had returned to his phone or if she was still on ‘hold’. His version of hold at least, which consisted of him saying ‘give me a minute’ and putting his phone down for much longer than a minute while he answered a skype call with his parents.

All she can hear is faint talking in the background, tone of voices but none of the words. Holding the phone with one hand and pushing the trolley with the other, Julie makes her way out of the bread aisle and mentally checks her shopping list in comparison to where she is in the store. She’s half way down the coffee and tea aisle, grabbing for the cheapest jar of coffee she can see, when a huff of air in her ear makes her jump. Clutching the jar close to her chest as she pulls the phone away for a moment and blowing out a breath. Luke’s already started talking when she puts it back, her mind filling in the blanks for what she’s missed.

“– that. Shit timing on their part. What were we talking about again?” There’s something off about his voice. She wouldn’t have noticed it a few months ago, but she can tell now, can hear the forced cheerfulness behind his words. And, if he wasn’t obviously forcing himself to sound happy, Julie would probably take a moment to appreciate she knows him well enough to know his different tones.

But there’s something wrong, and she wants to help him. So far, Luke’s been pretty quiet about his parents, so quite in fact that all Julie really knows about them is their names are Emily and Mitch, that they love him, they don’t get him and that the best way to describe their relationship is ‘strained’. All that she’d picked up from vague mentions and what Reggie had accidentally let slip.

Luke had helped her understand some of her feelings about her mom, listening to her cry at three in the morning, listened to her talk about her dad. She wants to do the same for him. She wants to make sure he knows she'll listen too. So she puts the coffee jar down and slowly starts walking out of the tea and coffee aisle while she talks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks, the call, the ‘strained’ relationship, all the unsaid emotions clearly at war in his head. It’s quite on the other end of the phone, all she can hear is his breathing and Julie starts to worry that maybe she’s wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it, or maybe he does, but not with her. Not sure which option is worse, she’s just opening her mouth to take it back when Luke blows out a breath and a flat laugh that sounds loud in her ear.

“They just- they don’t get it. What music means. What I’m trying to do with it. They don’t get me,” there’s a pause where Luke laughs again, flat and hollow and so, so wrong, and Julie thinks that’s all he’s going to say, but then he starts talking again. It’s like he’s been shoving plates into a cupboard without stacking them and now he’s opened the door and they’re all crashing to the ground.

“And it’s like, they don’t even seem to try. Not really. They listen to me talk about all these shows we’re playing and how we’re making all these awesome connections all over the world and how we’ve started recording a fucking album. And they’ve gotta be able to tell I’m excited, because Alex is always saying I’ve got no subtlety, and I’m pretty sure I’ve even said in those exact words. That I’m excited. That this is a huge deal for us. And they just - they listen to all that and then they-” he huffs out a breath, and Julie can almost see him shaking his head, at his next words, “And then they ask about what I’m going to do when I get back home. If I’ve given college anymore thought.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, because well. It is obvious how excited Luke is about the band, about the album they’re making, about music in general. You’d have to be blind not to see it, blind or just deliberately ignoring the obvious. And that’s even without ever having actually seen him play on a stage. If Julie could tell how good he is over staticy and unreliable voice notes and facetime calls, then anyone who’s seen him play live should know for sure.

“You know they’ve never seen us play?” He sounds small, and Julie wishes she was with him right now to give him a hug.

That explained that, at least. They'd never seen them play. She’s standing in the fucking cereal aisle of a supermarket on a Wednesday afternoon, one hand gripping tightly to the handle of her trolley, and she can hear Luke sniff, wipe at his face and let out a wet laugh and it hurts. Julie thinks it’s almost worse than the hollow one and she feels tears spring into her eyes.

“Never?” She asks, because what else can she say? Her parents had never once missed an opportunity to see her play, she can’t even imagine standing on a stage again and her dad or Victoria not being in the audience for the first time.

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ and blows out a breath. “And I mean, I guess I could understand them not supporting the band and trying to push college on me if they’d ever actually fucking seen us. But they haven’t. It’s like they’ve just - they’ve decided we’re not good and that it’s all a waste of time. Without any evidence for it. Because, I- I don’t wanna sound egotistical here but fuck, we are good. We’re fucking awesome. And they won’t even consider that as a possibility. That this could work.”

“That’s their loss then,” is the first thing that comes out of Julie’s mouth, “Because I’ve only ever seen people's shaky phone videos of you guys playing and that was enough for me to know that you’re good. That you guys are amazing.”

They were more than good really, Luke was right, they were pretty fucking awesome, and if his parents couldn’t see that. Well that was on them.

“Yeah?” he sounds unsure for the first time, and Julie’s reminded that Luke might be a pretty confident guy but even confident people need a little reassurance sometimes. She relaxes her grip on the trolley’s handle and smiles a little.

“Yeah. And if they can’t see that Luke, if they don’t even want to try to see that, that’s on them. And they’ll either realise it soon enough and sort their shit out. Or they’ll try to deny it forever and end up regretting it.” She really hopes they sort their shit out, that his parents wake up and see that their son is gonna be a star, one way or another. And that they’ll want to be there for it, that he wants them there for it, to smile and clap and cheer for him.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen us play,” his laugh this time is lighter, not quite up to his usual infectious quality, but maybe warmer. Softer. Julie doesn’t know how to describe it, but she wants to be able to hear it every day.

“I know, I’m a fake fan clearly.” Julie smiles, blows out a shallow breath as she blinks back the sudden tears that had found her eyes and lets him change the subject. She didn’t come to do her weekly shop expecting an emotional spiral in the cereal aisle of all places. The freezers with the ice cream might have been more appropriate.

“We’ll have to fix that when we’re back on the same stretch of land. Personal concert, just for you.”

The teasing tone is enough to make her roll her eyes and start moving again.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“So we’re back in the UK on December 10th.”

The statement almost makes Julie choke on her drink. And she’s glad that she’d put her phone down while she’d reached for it so Luke couldn’t see her reaction. Theoretically, she’d known they were approaching the end of November, that the band had finished their tour last week and had been using their free time to do some exploring, that they’d be back in the same country soon.

That, despite all her worst thoughts and assumptions, they were still talking. They were friends.

Wiping her chin with her sleeve, Julie picks up her phone again, trying her best to keep her face neutral. There’s a chance Luke doesn’t even remember the sort of deal they’d made. It had been nearly twelve months ago and it had been late at night and they’d both been pretty drunk.

“Really?”

He just looks at her, an eyebrow slightly raised and she can see the way he’s biting down on his lower lip. He almost looks – Julie blinks, brow furrowing, he looks worried. Which she doesn't understand.

“Are you okay?” She asks, leaning forward to peer closer at her phone like it will be able to give her answers.

“Yeah, yeah I just –” Luke pauses and Julie watches as his eyes seem to circle around his screen (which is technically her face, her mind oh so helpfully supplies) in search of something, and whatever he finds seems to be enough because he blows out a breath and nods once, more to himself she thinks. “We’ll be in the same country again and you’re going home soon and I– I was wondering if you still wanted to try that um night again. Maybe just you and me this time.”

Julie isn’t sure she’s breathing. Her mind has gone blank and all she can hear is her heart beating and Luke is just looking at her. All wide worried eyes and bitten lips and curls escaping from his beanie.

He’d remembered.

And he was asking her – out?

That thought knocks her mind into action again. She opens her mouth to reply, to say something, anything, but all she can get out is a slightly strangled,

“I–” Because Julie had been so sure that if they’d made it to this point and were still friends that Luke wouldn’t want anything more then that from her. She’d cried on the phone to him, at least twice.

“I mean we don’t have to I was – it was just an idea y’know? But I mean it’s fine, we–” Luke starts, taking her silence for her trying to let him down gently and not just an internal freak out.

“No!” She doesn’t mean to shout it, but it comes out as a shout anyway, startling them both. Luke just looks at her, mouth still half open and looking confused. Julie has a flashback to seeing him look exactly the same way when she’d said she couldn’t kiss him and it almost makes her giggle. “I mean yes, yes, I want to – to – to see you. To try that night again.”

“You do?” She watches as his confusion morphs into relief and into a smile, lips tugging up and eyes brightening.

“Yeah,” she smiles back, it would be hard not to smile back at him. “So, December 10th. I’m free the weekend after?”

It takes them a while to make a plan, mostly because Luke keeps having to ask Alex or Bobby where they’re staying or when they’re in the studio or what day they’re flying home. And then they bicker over where to meet because ‘London is so cliche Julie! We’re not cliche.’ which she’s pretty sure their friends would disagree with, but Julie pulls up google on her laptop and they look through different cities and towns until they find one they both like the sound of.

Two hours later after they’ve said goodnight and shared giddy smiles, Julie lies on her bed staring at the ceiling and for the first time since that first night they’d met, she lets herself feel excited for what might happen between them.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #jatp fics #once again. i dont know what tags to use lmoa #god im so tired and i lowkey hate this whole last section but it's done #andnow i can write the part ive been most excited for #rosie vs writing #*#jukebox #*fics

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echo-bleu · 4 years

Text

jump and hope it’s not a cliff

Summary: Five times Alec and Magnus come out, and one time they come home.

“I’m gay,” he blurts out.

Some part of him still expects it to be earth-shattering, but it’s not. It’s almost nothing, just a word, a single syllable that falls out of his lips easily. It doesn’t suddenly make everything click into place, or scramble his whole being.

It’s just a fact.

Malec, about coming out and pride and supporting each other.

A/N: This is set in the same universe as map out a world and there are a few callbacks, but this should easily stand on its own. Alec is autistic, and everything else is mostly like canon, except that I stretched out the timeline. Part 1 to 3 are set somewhere during season 2, 4 during season 3 and the last two at some point in the future. The title is a quote from Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (thank you Cor for the suggestion).

A huge thank you to the amazing @moonlight-breeze-44 who did a great job betaing this and cheering me on, as well as all the wonderful people in the Malec Discord Server for helping me come up with some of these scenes and being super supportive. This fic was truly a work of love and it's very close to my heart, so it's a little daunting to finally post it!

Warnings: part 5 contains a transphobic character who says very transphobic things. You might want to skip that part if it's a sensitive subject. The rest contains mentions of (mostly past) queerphobia and ableism, but it's all fairly light.

Read on AO3.

Alec can’t remember a specific moment when they came out to each other. He remembers Magnus openly flirting with him — right in front of his siblings, too, and Alec is just embarrassed by how utterly clueless he was, though Magnus seems to think it was adorable — and his own clumsy attempts at flirting back, once he got over his confusion. But he doesn’t remember ever saying “I’m gay.”

He’s not sure he’s ever said it out loud, to anyone, like the word is heavy and draining and it’s something best left half-implied, a whisper of a suspicion rather than a hard fact; despite the evidence. Alec is attracted to men — is attracted to Magnus, really, because besides his mistaken infatuation with Jace, he’s never felt that pull for anyone else — but he doesn’t speak of it. Magnus just seemed to know, just like Izzy did, just like Jace did, or maybe he took a leap of faith and he’s really good at appearing more confident than he actually is.

What he does remember is skimming through Magnus’ Clave file, that day before they went to meet him at his club, and the leap his heart made when he read about Magnus’ well known “proclivities” towards lovers of all genders. It was followed by fear and disgust, because of course the Clave would write this down as proof of Magnus’ untrustworthiness and dangerous behavior. Alec was dangerously close to thinking that way, back then, too terrified of people finding out about him to fully question what he’d been taught to believe. He tucked the information into a corner of his mind, and he’d be hard-pressed to tell if it influenced his first impression of Magnus and how.

They’ve been dating for over two months now, and they’ve never spoken about it. They’ve never spoken about Alec’s very public coming out to the Clave beyond agreeing to a date. They’ve discussed past relationships — or lack thereof — and the political issues that come with a Shadowhunter dating a Downworlder, especially as they’re both prominent figures in the city, but they’ve never spoken of themselves or the couple they form in terms of queerness.

And now, staring at the rainbow cover of the new book in Magnus’ hands, Alec wonders why.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and finishes hanging his jacket on the coat rack as Magnus puts down the book and stands up with a wide smile. They’ve decided on a quiet night in tonight — dinner and a movie — after a week that has been horrendously long for both of them. Unresolved issues are piling up at the Institute, but right now Alec just wants to relax and enjoy his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. He’s still getting used to that. He thought for so long that he could never have any of the things that so many people take for granted, and feeling for someone what he feels for Magnus, having it reciprocated, seemed the most unattainable of them all.

“You seem distracted,” Magnus remarks after a moment of silence in their dinner.

Alec looks up guiltily and stills his fingers, which have been tapping a discreet rhythm on his thigh. “Sorry,” he says, sheepish. “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You,” Alec admits — it’s not a hardship to admit it at all. He spends most of the time that isn’t directly taken up by Institute business thinking about Magnus, in one form or another. He worries, often, that maybe it’s too much, that Magnus is going to find him too intense, but so far Magnus just preens at the attention.

“I’m flattered,” Magnus quips. “Anything specific?”

Alec’s eyes fall on the rainbow book on the coffee table again, across the room. It’s a book about queer history or something similar, something he hasn’t seen Magnus read about before. It’s flashy and mundane and distracting. There’s a strange tug in Alec’s stomach at just seeing a rainbow here, in Magnus’ living space, a fear that shouldn’t be there anymore.

“I’m gay,” he blurts out.

It’s just a fact.

“Okay,” Magnus says slowly, frowning a little like he can tell he’s missing something. “I already knew that, Alexander.”

Alec runs his thumb down the fabric of his jeans and works his jaw. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m not sure I did.”

Magnus frowns further, uncomprehending, then his face lights up. “You’ve never actually said it, have you? If you came out at the wedding—” he waves a hand.

“That wasn’t planned, and my parents aren’t exactly interested in talking about it,” Alec says. “I kinda feel like I used you, actually. We weren’t even dating or anything, and there’s a gap between flirting with me and kissing me in front of the entire Institute.”

Magnus shakes his head. “I was surprised, but I’ve never been shy or particularly closeted, if that’s what you mean. And I was definitely hoping that you’d call off the wedding. It was a hell of a way to come out, though.”

“It sure didn’t help my standing with the Clave,” Alec mutters. “Or my relationship with my parents. But I don’t regret it. I regret not really giving you a choice, though. Even if you’re not in the closet, I know the Institute doesn’t represent something positive for you, and publicly being with a Shadowhunter can’t be good for your reputation.”

“My reputation has been through much worse than this,” Magnus reassures him. “But I appreciate your concern. And I promise you I was a willing participant.”

Alec nods in acceptance and eats a few more bites of his risotto. Like everything Magnus conjures, it’s delicious. They eat in silence for a moment, but Alec feels Magnus’ gaze on him, intense but somehow not heavy.

“I’m bisexual,” Magnus finally says. “I’ve used many labels over the years, some whose meaning is very different now, and often no labels at all, but that’s the one I like best.”

Alec carefully commits the information to memory and looks up to meet his eyes, to show that he’s listening.

“Did you always know?” he asks. “Even when you had no words for it?”

Magnus takes a moment to think about it. “I think so,” he answers. “It was always a part of me, like my magic or my eyes. I didn’t always accept it, but I knew.”

Alec nods, feeling like he can’t relate to that certainty. Clarity isn’t something he’s ever had about himself, about anything. Whether it’s about his sexuality, or his aspirations, or even who he is as a person, it’s always been muddled. The identities his parents and the Clave tried to impose on him, Shadowhunter and Lightwood and soldier, have never felt quite right, like he doesn’t fit into the boxes he desperately tries to hide in, but neither have the labels he’s come across since, not really.

“I’m gay,” he murmurs to himself again. He’s not sure it feels right. Maybe he just needs to get used to it, after years of not daring to apply the word to himself. Maybe it’s really just a word, and its power drained out with the need to hide. Alec shakes his head. It’s better than anything else. It’s enough. It has to be, right?

Magnus claps his hands once, making a bowl of popcorn appear on his knees. “Here,” he says. “The real movie night experience.”

He had been horrified to learn that Alec has never done that before. His siblings have sneaked out to go to the movies with their teenage dates, but Alec was always the good son, and the Institute only has one TV in the break room that is certainly not casually watched by the Head of the Institute, which Alec has functionally been since he was sixteen.

Magnus doesn’t count the few classic movies Alec watched on his own on his laptop in the safety of his room as a real movie night experience. Movie night is, by definition, something you do with others.

He passes the bowl of popcorn to Alec, taking a few pieces with his other hand and popping them into his mouth. They’re sitting side by side on the couch in his living room, rearranged for the occasion. Magnus has pushed aside the two armchairs that usually occupy the other side of the coffee table in favor of a huge wide screen TV, which is currently displaying the opening scene of The Fellowship of the Ring.

“Why does it include popcorn?” Alec frowns, taking a few from the bowl and passing it back. He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, a fluffy pillow on his lap and his new tangle toy in his hand. He’s very recently started to loosen up around the loft and actually make himself comfortable, rather than constantly staying straight-backed and tense, and Magnus never tires of watching him stim and relax.

Magnus puts his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s tradition, Alexander!”

“Aren’t you way older than the invention of the cinema?”

“Come on, movie night is something you’re supposed to enjoy, not question,” Magnus says. “Shh, I love this bit,” he adds when Gandalf makes his entrance.

Alec huffs and sits back, but there’s a smile on his face, and he’s almost close enough that their thighs touch. Magnus lets him take the first step, knowing that Alec doesn’t always handle touch well, but by the time Frodo sets out of the Shire, Alec has sought out Magnus’ free hand and interlaced it with his own.

He listens amusedly to Magnus commenting on every moment of the movie, marveling at the landscapes and critiquing the largest departures from the books, which Alec hasn’t even read. He doesn’t say anything beyond making some noises at the right places, up until the first sword fights.

“But you can’t hold a sword that way!” he protests. “His posture is all wrong!”

Magnus holds back a laugh. “It’s a movie, darling. Cinematic aestheticism is more important than realism.”

“But this is wrong! How can anyone not see it?”

Magnus keeps it to himself that he definitely didn’t, in spite of his rather extensive training. His martial arts knowledge is very different from Alec’s sword-fighting techniques. “Just relax and let yourself enjoy it,” he says, squeezing Alec’s hand.

By the time they get to the Moria fight, Alec is leaning forward to watch more closely and sputtering. “That’s not how you hold a bow!”

Magnus shrugs. “He looks rather dashing while doing it, so who cares?”

“Who cares? I care! This doesn’t make any sense! Don’t these actors have a modicum of training?”

“I’m sure they do,” Magnus says. Alec’s indignation is rather hilarious, even if it doesn’t let him truly enjoy the movie. His purpose was to show it to Alec, anyway, not to watch it himself. Watching Alec’s reactions is endearing and more fun than the movie itself. “But they’re thinking more about making it look good than realistic. And they’re all really hot doing it, which doesn’t hurt.”

Alec blinks at that and tilts his head. “You think they’re hot?”

Magnus turns his head toward him in surprise. “Don’t you?”

Is Alec jealous? It doesn’t seem to fit with his character, not over such a small thing, but Magnus doesn’t know everything about him yet.

“I don’t know, I guess?” Alec shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Magnus opens his mouth and closes it. He pauses the movie, and Alec frowns in surprise. “Alec, do you...who do you think is hot?”

“I, uh,” Alec hesitates. “I don’t know. Why is that important?”

“It’s not, necessarily, but most people don’t say ‘I guess’ when asked if someone is hot or sexy. You can have a type, but—” Magnus gestures in frustration, struggling to explain. “It’s something you see right away.”

Alec stares at him for a moment, lost. “I don’t… I’m not sure I understand. I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re hot, I suppose. Them—” he gestures at the TV. “I don’t know them.”

Magnus carefully doesn’t let the ‘I suppose’ hurt — he knows Alec doesn’t mean it the way it sounds. He smiles at the compliment, instead. “So you need to know someone to appreciate their sexiness?” he asks.

Alec takes a moment to think about it. “You’re the only one I’ve really thought of as sexy,” he says slowly. “And even then...it’s not something I’d think unprompted? It’s just not important to me, I suppose.”

“Alexander, are you asexual?” Magnus asks slowly.

For a moment, Alec looks like a fish out of water. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, searching for his words. He’s twisting his stim toy more and more nervously, so Magnus releases his hand to let him stim freely, putting his own hand on Alec’s thigh instead. Alec flinches away, though, so he lets him go.

“I don’t know,” Alec finally says. “Maybe? What if I am?”

“There’s a bunch of different identities under the asexual umbrella,” Magnus says. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

Alec freezes for a second, then squeezes his tangle toy hard in his hand. “Is it a problem? If I’m completely asexual?”

“No, of course not,” Magnus says hurriedly. “You’re wonderful the way you are.”

“Then why is it important?”

“For us?” Magnus checks. Alec nods without looking in his direction. “It just means that we need to talk about boundaries a little more than I’m used to. I want to do that with you, anyway, but maybe we should dig deeper than I anticipated.”

Alec nods tightly. “Okay.” He doesn’t sound like he really believes it.

“Alexander, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but it doesn’t make you lesser, or broken, if you don’t feel attraction to people. It’s just different. Some people are straight, some are gay, or bi, or something else. Some are ace.”

“But I’m gay,” Alec says.

It dawns on Magnus then. Of course, in the homophobic environment Alec grew up in, he would have defined a large part of his identity through his gayness, even before he was fully aware of it. Now that he’s come out, there are likely people at the Institute or even the Clave who only think of him as “the gay one”. Or “the gay one who is shagging a Downworlder,” probably, but Magnus doesn’t want to open that particular can of worms tonight.

“It doesn’t make you any less gay,” he says. “You can be asexual and homoromantic. Or gray-asexual or demisexual and still sexually attracted to men.”

“I think I’m attracted to you,” Alec says quietly. “I mean, sexually. I know I want to kiss you and date you, but I think I also want to have sex with you.” He’s red as a brick wall by the end of his sentence, but he bravely plows through, his voice even quieter. “I don’t think I was sexually attracted to Jace.”

Magnus nods as neutrally as he can. “And other people?”

Alec just shakes his head.

“Even romantically?”

He shakes his head again, his cheeks even redder. He’s started stimming again, so fast that his hands are a blur.

Magnus refrains from telling him that he feels giddy about being so special for Alec, because this isn’t something Alec chose. He doesn’t try to touch him, even though he wants to reach out. “So you’ve only been romantically attracted to people you already knew?”

“I don’t know,” Alec shrugs. “I didn’t really know you?”

“When did you start feeling attraction for me?”

Alec bites his lip, thinking. “I liked that you paid attention to me. No one gives me a second look, usually, unless I’m giving out orders. Jace and Izzy are easier to...approach, I guess. But I didn’t feel like...like you said, losing my breath and all that, until later. The day you said that, actually.”

“So you did know me by then,” Magnus says, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Were you attracted to me from the beginning?” Alec asks hesitantly, like he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“Yes,” Magnus admits easily. “But attraction isn’t something you have to act on. I liked what I saw as soon as I laid eyes on you, but then I learned to appreciate you. Your personality, your sense of humor, your loyalty to your siblings. That’s not just attraction. That’s falling in love.”

“And asexuals can do that?”

“Some of them can, some of them can’t. Some want to and some don’t. There’s no one-size-fits-all with this.”

“So what am I?”

Magnus takes a breath, trying to figure out what Alec really needs to hear. Does he need a label? Or just reassurance? He decides to go for the option that feels the least patronizing and tries to answer his actual question. “You can correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that what you’re describing is demisexuality, and maybe also demi-romanticism. It means you need to know someone, to have an emotional connection to them, before you feel attraction. But you could also say that you’re gray-ace and gray-romantic, since you don’t experience attraction often or in the same way as most people, but you do have some attraction.”

Alec nods throughout, his eyes boring a hole into the TV he’s staring at with intense focus. Magnus can even see him mouth some of the words, trying them out. “I think that sounds right,” he says slowly. “I don’t know, I need to think about it more, but it’s a start.”

“You don’t need to settle on a label tonight,” Magnus tells him.

Alec swallows. “No, I know, but...you deserve to know. Even if you’re amazingly tolerant, you deserve to know what you’re getting into.”

Magnus closes his eyes briefly. “No, Alexander,” he says, pained. “Your identities are yours and yours alone, and you don’t need to put words on them for me. I’m not being tolerant; I love you for who you are, and anyone who can’t accept you, all of you, doesn’t deserve the time of the day. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Alec breathes out through his nose and stills his hands for long enough to look in Magnus’ direction. “Okay,” he murmurs with a tiny smile. He reaches out and takes Magnus’ hand in his. “I love you too.”

“Mister Bane, please refrain from interrupting me in the future.”

Magnus sighs. The meeting has been going on forever, and the President of the Spiral Council, a warlock older than himself but disliked by nearly the entire community, is being downright insulting by refusing to call him by his rightful title of High Warlock. He feels the usual prickle of his skin at the address, at the way she insists on the Mister.

“My apologies,” he relents, all energy to argue drained out of him. He’s been fighting her on this matter — a change in the interrogation protocols for the warlocks captured by Valentine, ultimately a waste of resources — for three hours, and he’s done. He glares at the assembled warlocks around the table, who all agree with him but don’t have the guts to speak up. Why does he always have to do all the work?

He sits through the rest of the meeting without saying a word, resolutely ignoring the constant taunts from the President. She’s not worth his time. Not if no one will back him up.

Magnus is tired and more than a little upset when he makes it back to his loft. Minor inconveniences are piling up to make today one of the worst days of work he’s had in awhile. At least Alec will be here tonight, on his night off from patrol.

Magnus magically summons the few bills that have been left in his mundane mailbox downstairs at the same time as he takes off his jacket and haphazardly throws it on the floor of his bedroom. His heart constricts a little more at the sight of the address, Mister Magnus Bane. He doesn’t want to deal with this today, but he can’t seem to escape it.

He banishes the bills and changes his outfit to a silk robe with a snap of his fingers. There, better. At least now he’s comfortable.

Sighing, he sits down at his makeup console. He looks at himself critically for a moment. He went overboard with the makeup this morning, and the heavy, dark eyeshadow that he thought made him look mysterious now just seems to carve in his eye sockets, and he looks gaunt instead. He makes it disappear, leaving only the light eyeliner lines.

He woke up with a strong need to shave off his goatee, along with most of the hair on his body. He goes through one of these phases every now and then. He would usually do it straight away, but this time, he hesitated. What will Alec think, if he comes over tonight and finds Magnus smooth-skinned, not only his face but also his chest and legs?

Sure, Magnus could technically magic back the hair as soon as Alec gets here, but it doesn’t feel right.

“Everything okay?”

Magnus starts and almost falls off of his chair in surprise. Alec is standing at the door of his bedroom, in his socks. In his distraction, Magnus somehow missed him passing his wards, coming through the front door and removing his shoes.

“Fine,” he says. “Just a frustrating day. But you’re here now.”

Alec smiles. “I am. We can just chill out in bed, if you’re tired.”

“What about dinner?”

“I could do dinner in bed,” Alec shrugs. “I’ve been on my feet all day and most of last night. If I had my way, I wouldn’t move from bed for at least two days.”

“I could arrange that,” Magnus quips. He knows Alec would never go for it — for all that he says that, he’ll still be up at six on the dot tomorrow and unable to go back to bed. So Magnus has to take advantage of him while he’s here.

Snapping his fingers, he conjures a tray filled with Chinese food from a take-out place he knows Alec likes. “Dinner in bed it is,” he says.

“See, that’s why you’re my favorite man,” Alec smiles.

Magnus flinches. An actual, full-body flinch. He tries to cover it up by standing up, but Alec immediately spreads his arms to show his harmlessness, hunching over like he’s trying to make himself shorter. “I said something wrong,” he says.

“No, it’s fine, Alexander,” Magnus waves his hand, annoyed at himself.

“Please, Magnus. I can see it. You don’t have to tell me, but it would be better so I don’t do it again.”

“It’s just…” Magnus trails off, hesitating. He’s been putting off coming out to Alec, and he doesn’t know why. Or rather, he does know, but his fears are barely rational. Alec has taken him in stride so far, barely batting an eye, even at Magnus’ more extravagant habits. He had a truly amazing reaction to seeing Magnus’ warlock mark. So why would this be any different?

No, Alec won’t react badly. But if Magnus comes out now, it will become a thing. They’ll have to talk about it, explain, like every time he tells someone, and it will be weird for days. Magnus is tired. Tired of not being able to be who he is without everyone else forcing him into boxes he doesn’t fit in.

He’s tired and he doesn’t want to explain, but he also wants Alec to know. He wants him to know why words that seem perfectly normal and safe to Alec sometimes feel like a knife to Magnus’ back. He wants to be able to make jokes about his gender and have them understood. He wants to wake up next to Alec and know that his partner knows and respects him for who he is, fully.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not a man. I’m nonbinary.”

Alec doesn’t move. His eyes widen a little, but he doesn’t turn away from Magnus, keeping his gaze somewhere around Magnus’ mouth as usual. Magnus can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to decide what to answer with.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “I don’t...I think I know what the word means, but I don’t know a lot about it. Do you want to tell me what it means to you or do you want me to research it first?” His gaze trails toward the bookshelf Magnus has put together of books on queer theory.

Magnus gapes, because this is so far from any reaction he expected that it didn’t even come to his mind as an option. “I—” he stammers. “I will tell you, but I’m too tired tonight. And maybe you could...read a couple things first? Would that be okay?”

“That’s why I offered,” Alec says, with a relieved smile.

“You’re amazing, Alexander. You know that?”

Alec grins, with that tiny frown that says he wants to refute it but knows Magnus won’t hear of it if he does. He still can’t take a compliment — he can’t, Magnus has come to learn, think of himself positively without remembering every time he’s been put down and belittled by the people who should have lifted him up. Magnus just pats his shoulder. “How about we go to bed? Tomorrow, we can talk.”

Alec nods, and Magnus realizes that he’s looking forward to it, to telling Alec about himself.

When Magnus wakes up the next morning, which is their day off — Magnus has adapted his own schedule to match Alec’s whenever possible — Alec isn’t in bed next to him. Magnus finds him in the main room, sitting crossed-legged in an armchair with his laptop on his lap, a full breakfast ready on the table. He’s obviously been up for a while, if he’s had time to prepare all that on top of his morning run and stretching routine.

“Hey,” he gives Magnus a wide smile.

“Did I oversleep?” Magnus asks. He’s definitely less of an early-riser than Alec, who tends to wake up with the sun whenever he hasn’t been on the night shift, but he’s usually awake by the time Alec comes back from his run.

“There’s no such thing on a day off, but I think you were tired,” Alec answers. “I’ve been up for three hours.”

“Oh my,” Magnus murmurs, checking the time with a wave of his hand. To his relief — and amusement — it’s only eight-thirty, definitely not that late by his standards. “What have you done with all this time?”

“Research,” Alec waves to the books on the coffee table in front of him, which Magnus only now notices. They’re from his LGBT+ book collection, and definitely his top choices for learning about gender identities. “I’m learning a lot.”

“Let me shower and we can talk about it,” Magnus decides, his body tensing with excitement and a touch of apprehension.

“Breakfast is ready when you are,” Alec smiles reassuringly.

He’s just serving coffee when Magnus comes out of the shower. Magnus hasn’t bothered to get dressed or do his makeup yet, avoiding his mirrors — which isn’t the easiest feat in his bathroom, which has no less than two full-length mirrors beside the one above the sink — because he’s not sure what he wants to look like today. His goatee still itches on his chin, but he needs to get a feel for Alec’s reaction before he goes ahead and shaves it.

He forbids himself from pulling at his facial hair and grabs his mug of coffee instead, hissing when it nearly burns his hand. “Hey, you okay?” Alec asks, his voice quiet and concerned.

“I’m fine, Alexander,” Magnus makes himself smile. There’s no reason for this to go badly. Last night, even though Alec didn’t know much, was already affirming and relieving.

The concern is always there, especially given the culture Alec comes from, but Magnus has seen Alec fight hard against his own racism and internalized homophobia, and more recently his internalized ableism — and Alec is someone who doesn’t relent until he makes things right. Especially when he’s the one who made mistakes. It’s going to be okay.

“Tell me what you need,” Alec says, meeting his eyes — something he only does when he wants to show Magnus his support, explicitly and deliberately.

“Ask me?” Magnus tries. He hates feeling this vulnerable. “Ask me whatever questions you have, without beating around the bush.” Don’t make it awkward and painful, please.

“Alright, I can do that,” Alec smiles softly, and Magnus melts a little, like every time Alec looks at him like that. He takes a sip of his coffee. “So, I’ve read that there are a lot of different nonbinary identities. Do you use any of those labels for yourself? If you want to tell me.”

Magnus swallows in gratefulness. “I don’t, not really,” he replies. “Most of those labels are very recent, and they don’t really match with how I’ve learned to think about myself. Even nonbinary doesn’t feel exactly right, even if I fit the definition. But I use it because it’s rare for me to feel part of a community, of a group of people who share that with me.”

Alec nods thoughtfully. “I think I can relate with that,” he says. “The community thing, I mean. I’ve never actually thought about my gender, not beyond where it relates to my sexuality, but I guess not needing to think about it is a good sign that I’m cis.”

“Probably,” Magnus shrugs. “Does it feel strange for you? Realizing that you’re not really dating a man?”

Alec takes the time to think about it, though he never completely looks away. “No,” he says finally. “I won’t lie, maybe a few months ago it would have, because...I fought against my own gayness so much that when I finally accepted it, I needed it to be clear-cut. But I don’t feel like that anymore. If I learned something about identities and labels, it’s that they shouldn’t be boxes where you have to cut off parts of yourself to fit inside. I love you. I’m gay. You’re nonbinary. Those don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

Magnus needs a few long seconds before he remembers how to breathe. “They don’t,” he murmurs when he can finally speak again. Alec isn’t usually eloquent, but he has a knack for finding exactly the right words sometimes. And surprising Magnus, every day.

“Yesterday, you reacted when I called you a man,” Alec says slowly. “I’m probably going to slip up a few times until I get used to it, but can you tell me how you want me to speak of you? What words I should use?”

“Yesterday I was irritated and dysphoric,” Magnus replies. “It usually isn’t a problem. I don’t love those words and I’d prefer to avoid them when it’s just us, but socially, I’ve been taken for a man for so long… I can’t say it doesn’t bother me, but I’m not sure I can really imagine anything else. Sure, I’ve had fun glamouring myself into something more feminine, or cultivating an androgynous style at different times, but I’m still...I’m more comfortable being seen as a man than as a woman. Warlocks are sometimes seen as sexless by mortals, like Seelies, because our customs are so different, and I’ve always played with those perceptions.”

“Your name is masculine, right?”

Magnus shrugs. “Yes and no. It uses the masculine marker in Latin, but Latin was a language with grammatical gender. There are masculine words referencing females, and the other way around. And it’s a dead language, anyway. It was dead before I was born. I don’t think of my name as masculine.”

“Then, that’s what’s important,” Alec says. “What about pronouns?”

“I’ve used many different pronouns in many different languages,” Magnus answers. “I’ve always been partial to languages with no gendered pronouns like Turkish, but I really don’t care. He/him pronouns don’t make me feel bad, and I’m used to them.”

“There are languages with no gendered pronouns?” Alec asks, fascinated.

“A number of them,” Magnus says. “We really need to travel more. But to go back to your question, maybe in a few years or decades, I’ll be more comfortable with the new gender-neutral pronouns in English like they/them, but it takes me a while to get used to new things. So he/him is fine for now.”

“Okay,” Alec nods. “What about...we’ve been calling each other boyfriends. Would you rather I use something else?”

Magnus laughs, relief finally washing over him. He was tenser than he realized, and it makes him feel like jelly, suddenly. “No, Alexander. Hearing you calling me your boyfriend is far too endearing to change that. Please keep doing it.”

Alec’s face illuminates with a wide smile. “My nonbinary boyfriend,” he says playfully. “I know we’ve only barely scratched the surface, but is there something else I should know right now?”

Magnus runs a few things through his head, deciding to keep them for later — he’s very curious, and not all that apprehensive anymore, of what Alec’s reaction to him in feminine lingerie might be — and strokes his chin. “Oh,” comes the illumination. “I really want to shave my face right now. It’s been too long since I last did that.”

“Okay,” Alec says. “That’s a gender thing?”

“Sometimes facial hair feels dysphoric,” Magnus replies. “Like today. Sometimes I just want to look different.”

“I love both looks,” Alec says. “I love all of your looks. I love how I never know what you’re going to go for in the morning.”

Magnus starts eating his pancakes, but he decides that he doesn’t want to wait. He conjures a hand mirror in front of his plate and runs his glowing hand over his chin carefully, leaving smooth skin behind. Alec smiles at him over his coffee mug and Magnus smiles back, glancing at his now hairless face in the mirror. That feels better. Maybe he’ll go ahead and wax his legs and his chest as well.

“Of all the days to be called out on patrol—”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Alec sighs, trying to appease Magnus’ annoyance by squeezing his hand. It’s Sunday, it’s the middle of the day, he wasn’t expecting a call from the Institute at all. “But the nest is in a busy metro tunnel just below the end of the parade. In a few hours, there’s going to be thousands of people down there, and who knows when the demons might try to attack the trains. And they’re bat demons, so they need my bow.”

The curse—and occasional blessing, if Alec is honest with himself—of being the only archer worth his salt in the New York Institute, is that despite now being the official Head, he’s still needed on the patrol roster. Most Institute Heads retire from the field, the administrative and political work being a full time job, but Alec still goes out with his siblings several times a week, and he usually leads the special teams called to handle demon surges.

Today, he curses that necessity with everything he has. Magnus has been excited about their first Pride together for weeks, and Alec was truly happy to do this with him.

“We were supposed to go to the parade,” Magnus sulks.

“I’m really sorry,” Alec repeats. “Maybe if we handle this fast enough, I can join you part-way through? I’ll do my best.”

Magnus looks at him critically. “No. I’m coming with you.”

“I know the parade is important to you—”

“It’s only important if we go together,” Magnus answers. “If I come with you, it will be faster, and then I can portal us into the procession directly, if there’s still time.”

“Alright,” Alec nods.

The team, larger than usual patrols because of the size of the demon nest, is almost ready when Alec and Magnus make it to the ops center. Alec quickly gets his bow and quiver and straps on his thigh holsters, and moves to signal the go ahead.

“Wait,” Magnus holds him up. “If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it in style.”

Alec frowns as he waves his hand, releasing a cloud of blue magic onto the two of them. Alec looks down at himself, his eyes gliding over his outfit before he clocks the changes. The lapel of his leather jacket now holds two prominent flag pins, a rainbow one and one with the black, gray, white and purple of the asexual flag. He sees matching pins, significantly larger, on Magnus’ vest, with his own flags. It’s the first time, as far as Alec knows, that Magnus has outwardly worn his nonbinary identity in the Institute, and he feels a swell of pride at the shine in Magnus’ eyes.

“Look at your arrows, sir,” Underhill’s voice comes from over his shoulder.

Alec twists his head to see the fletching of his arrows, usually red, is now brightly colored. Each fletch bears the colors of a different pride flag.

“So we can defeat the demons with pride,” Magnus smirks when Alec looks back at him.

“I like it,” Alec smiles. The mass of bright colors hurts his eyes a little, but the gazes of his teammates on them aren’t full of judgment but of amusement, and that’s a victory in its own right. He runs a hand over the little pins on his lapel.

“Um, sir?” Underhill asks, clearing his throat.

“Yes?” Alec turns to him, but he realizes that Underhill is looking at Magnus and not at him.

He gestures at the pins Magnus is wearing, and Alec can feel Magnus brace himself for a comment. “Could I, uh, have one too?”

Magnus blinks. “Of course,” he recovers quickly. “Rainbow flag?”

“Yeah,” Underhill nods.

Magnus snaps his fingers, and a pin as large as his own appears on Underhill’s chest.

“Thank you!”

Alec is certain he can see his subordinate’s eyes shine.

“Anyone else?” Magnus asks, full of mirth. A few people grumble, including Jace, until a young Shadowhunter takes a step forward.

“Can I have a trans pin?” she asks, her voice only wavering a little.

Alec feels a swell of pride. Kara is one of the youngest recruits, a sixteen year old who’s mostly kept to herself since she transferred to the Institute last winter, because he was the only Head willing to accept her chosen name and pronouns. Her face is set in stubborn determination as she fields her teammates' stares and stands in front of Magnus. Magnus beams at her. “Here you go, darling,” he snaps his fingers again. Kara looks down at the shiny pastel colored pin in reverence, and flashes him a smile.

“Are we ready to go?” Alec asks. He doesn’t want to break the moment, but they really need to move.

Magnus takes a step back and throws out a portal in front of them. “Let’s go kill some demons,” he says.

Alec grabs an aromantic-themed arrow from his quiver, smiling internally at the pun, and nocks it onto his bow string before stepping through the portal.

Alec does his best to pay attention to what Jia is telling him, but he’s not having the best time of it. He’s had a full glass of champagne already and it’s getting to his head a little, and the ambient noise isn’t helping his concentration — in fact, it’s loud enough that his head is pounding and he’s losing track of what’s going on.

And then, there’s Magnus. Alec keeps stealing concerned glances at him, standing across the room in conversation with an older Shadowhunter from the Prague Institute. It’s been at least ten minutes, and every time Alec looks, Magnus is wearing a new accessory.

Alec knows why Magnus elected for a plain look today, for their very first reception since they moved to Alicante. He wanted to avoid dragging attention to him, knowing that many people in attendance are doubtful toward the new High Warlock of Alicante. Tonight marks Alec’s official nomination as Inquisitor, and he wanted to spare Alec a scene.

Alec is starting to suspect that a scene may be unavoidable, and if the reason is what he suspects, then he will wholeheartedly defend Magnus. It started with earrings. Magnus went for a simple dark suit with almost no jewelry beside his wedding ring, but he’s now sporting a very shiny pair of diamond earrings. And a necklace. And a butterfly hair clip that probably costs more than a year of Alec’s now sizable salary.

And now, lipstick. Very obvious, bright red lipstick.

“I’m so sorry,” Alec turns back to Jia, “but I believe my husband needs my help.”

Even though she’s now his direct superior, he doesn’t wait to be dismissed and he strides through the room, his height and his new status meaning that everyone gets out of his way. Izzy catches his eyes briefly, and Alec signals at her to stand by.

By the time he’s made it to his husband’s side, Magnus’ hair has turned into a vibrant rendition of the nonbinary flag, and that’s not a good sign. Alec steps into his field of vision before putting a hand on his arm.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Peachy,” Magnus says through his teeth. “This gentleman right here was just telling me about a very strange sort of demon that possesses young Nephilim men and makes them pretend to be women in order to assault actual women.”

Alec blinks as he takes that in, as well as the poison in Magnus’ tone. He tightens his grip on Magnus’ arm, feeling the stares on them — Magnus’ new hair color is hard to miss.

“Really?” he asks innocently, tilting his head. “I’ve never heard of those demons. I should read up on them, so I can make sure every Institute is fully ready for an invasion. What did you say their classification was, Mr. Svec?”

The man gapes at him. “They’re...uh...I don’t…”

“That’s what I thought,” Alec says icily. “There’s no such thing. You’re Kara’s father, aren’t you?”

“That monster isn’t my son,” Svec spits out.

“No, you’re right. She’s not. She’s your daughter. And she’s absolutely thriving at the New York Institute, by the way. She’s the best fighter in her class. That’s what happens when people accept you for who you are.” Alec deliberately turns his back to the sputtering man and looks at Magnus. “Honey, it’s getting late, we should probably head home,” he says, purposefully speaking louder than he needs to. Magnus is trembling with rage, fighting to rein himself in. “Let me just tell Jia, okay?” he adds in a murmur, just for Magnus.

Magnus closes his eyes and nods. “Get me away from him,” he says.

Alec gently guides him over to Izzy, who immediately takes Magnus’ hand. “Let’s stay out of the crowd,” she says, nodding at Alec that she’ll take care of him.

Alec finds Jia with Aline by the buffet. “I can’t condone this kind of bigotry coming from the Head of an Institute,” he says through his teeth.

“I don’t think he’ll try that twice around you,” Aline chuckles, nodding toward Svec, who is now glaring at them from across the room, clearly ostracized. “He didn’t make any friends tonight.”

“What happened tonight isn’t enough to remove him, but as Inquisitor, you’ll be able to push for someone else to take his place when his contract is up in six months,” Jia says. “I understand your anger, Alec. But we can’t change people in a day.”

Alec remembers, not for the first time since she offered him the job of Inquisitor, that she’s not just the progressivist Consul that the most conservative Nephilim frown at, or the mother of one of his best friends. She’s also the person who once sentenced Clary to death without a second thought. If he wants change, he’ll have to bring it on himself.

He exchanges a look with Aline, thinking of the folder on his new desk, the proposal they might have a chance at getting through now that he’s the Inquisitor. Jia’s right, it won’t be done in a day. But it will happen. Alec will make it happen.

And if at some point in the meantime, he has the opportunity to get rid of a few bigots like Svec, he won’t turn his nose up at it.

“Magnus and I are going home,” he says. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Congratulations on the promotion again,” Jia nods. “I’ll expect you in my office at eight tomorrow.”

“Good night.” Alec has to unclench his fist to shake Jia’s hand, and he realizes just how angry he is. Aline clasps him on the shoulder with an understanding look.

He finds Magnus and Izzy at the door, ready to go. “Can you portal us home?” he asks Magnus as they step outside.

Magnus wordlessly opens a portal and steps through without checking that Alec is following him, a testimony of how unsettled he still is. Alec takes the time to hug Izzy before he goes through. “You were amazing,” she slips him, kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he answers. “Thanks for your help.”

Alec comes behind Magnus and embraces him as soon as he’s out of the portal. Magnus took them straight to their bedroom, but he hasn’t moved since, standing there trembling in rage — or in something else.

“I love you,” Alec murmurs over and over in his ear. “All of you.”

After a minute, the shaking subsides, and Alec feels his own anger drain with it. It leaves him tired and out of sorts, his head still ringing with the noise of the reception. He loosens his hold on Magnus and takes one hand off of him to pull off his tie.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus murmurs. “I really wanted to avoid making a scene.”

Alec moves to face him. “Don’t ever apologize for something a bigot caused. It wasn’t you.”

“I tried to just ignore him, but—”

“He was awful,” Alec finishes. “I know.”

“I don’t know why I let him get to me so much,” Magnus sighs.

Alec guides them both to sit down on the bed.

“You love Kara,” he says. “He was saying horrible things.”

Magnus shakes his head. “I didn’t even know that was her father.”

Alec shrugs. “We all get triggered sometimes. He just pushed the wrong buttons.”

Magnus curls up and buries his hands in his still colored hair. “I usually have better control than that,” he says.

“I think I know what happened,” Alec sighs. “You were feeling insecure because you toned down your whole identity for me, in a place where you don’t feel safe. You were already on edge, and probably dysphoric, am I wrong?”

“No,” Magnus mutters. “I hate slacks.”

“Magnus, I don’t want you to change yourself for me, ever,” Alec says. He puts a hand on Magnus’ shoulder, to make sure that he’s really listening. Magnus looks up at him. “I don’t want you to make yourself smaller or more acceptable because you think it will be better for me.”

“I just—” Magnus sighs. “It was your day.”

“We’re not, ever, going to be normal. Not for the Downworld, and definitely not for the Clave. And I don’t want us to be, Magnus. I’ve spent enough time trying to make myself fit into a mold that didn’t fit me. I don’t ever want you to tone yourself done for them.”

“Okay,” Magnus murmurs, his voice fragile. Alec feels a strong pulse of anger at Svec course through him again, seeing Magnus so vulnerable. Magnus isn’t supposed to be vulnerable. Not about this.

Or maybe he’s more insecure about it than Alec realized.

Alec holds him for a while in silence, feeling Magnus’ need to recoup. “How did you know I was feeling dysphoric?” Magnus asks suddenly, after a few minutes.

“I’m starting to recognize it,” Alec shrugs. “Also, you might want to look at a mirror.”

Before he can realize it, Magnus is out of his embrace, staring at a hastily conjured hand mirror. “Fuck,” he mutters, showing Alec that his suspicion was right. Magnus didn’t realize the way his magic responded to his discomfort.

“Did I just come out to the entire Council because I was angry?”

“Uh,” Alec hesitates. “I doubt that many of them know what the colors mean. They’ll just put it down as one of your...eccentricities. Izzy might know, though.”

“That’s why she kept saying she loved me,” Magnus breathes out, running a hand through his colorful hair.

“Should I be jealous?” Alec raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Alexander. I’ve been thinking of leaving you for Isabelle’s legendary cooking skills.”

Alec makes a face at him, then he reaches out and touches the tip of Magnus’ artfully styled hair where it’s dyed bright yellow. “I like this look on you,” he says. “I mean, I don’t like that you felt so threatened that your magic reacted this way, but I like to see you proud and loud. You’re beautiful.”

Magnus beams at him and relaxes back against Alec’s chest, holding up the mirror to look at the both of them, Alec straight-backed in his serious black suit and Magnus boneless against him, a flurry of colors. Alec wonders, often — especially on days like today — if they could make a more disparate couple, at least in the eyes of the world.

And yet the ways in which they fit together outweigh their differences, every day.

+1.

“I asked you here because I want to show you something,” Alec says when Magnus walks into his office on a Friday afternoon, holding his phone in his hand and looking confused.

Magnus stills at his seriousness. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. The opposite, actually. But it’s important to me, and I thought you’d want to see it.”

Alec takes a thin blue folder from his desk and hands it over to Magnus, a small smile on his lips. Magnus opens it with a frown.

“What is this?” he asks.

“The ruling from the latest Council meeting,” Alec answers. “It came in just this afternoon.”

“The one they asked you to testify in?”

Alec confirms with a nod. He didn’t tell Magnus exactly why he needed to talk at the Council assembly, but it’s a common enough occurrence that Magnus didn’t think much of it. To Alec, though, it was a moment he’s waited for for a long time.

He watches Magnus skim the first lines of the ruling, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is that what I think it is?” Magnus asks, glancing up at him.

Alec’s fingers find his wedding ring and start spinning it. “Depends what you’re thinking,” he shrugs, trying to look unconcerned. He probably shouldn’t be anxious about Magnus’ reaction, but he is. “It’s the first part of a set of amendments to Clave law that I’ve been pushing for since before I was named Inquisitor. Aline and I presented them to the Council last month, and they’ve just been voted.”

“You and Aline,” Magnus says pensively. “‘Amendments concerning the inclusion of members of the LGBTQUIA+ community,’” he reads out loud. “You did this?”

“Full marriage equality regardless of gender, including for mixed-species couples,” Alec recites. “Automatic acceptance of name and gender change requests if related to transition. Recognition of the existence of genders outside the binary.”

Magnus gasps in surprise. Alec nods to confirm the truth of it. It’s one of the things the Council fought back the most on, and he pushed hard to get it to pass. It goes beyond even mundane progress in every country he’s looked up, but it was too important to let go.

“Anti-discrimination policies,” he continues. “And this one might affect us directly someday: equal rights to adoption and the use of surrogates.”

Magnus’ eyes light up briefly, though he doesn’t immediately comment. Alec wrings his hands and rambles on nervously. “We didn’t manage to get the legalization of polyamorous marriages, but we’ll keep working on it. We’re preparing a second proposal on Downworlder inclusion, but that one will probably make amendments to the Accords necessary, and that will take a lot more time.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says in a low voice. Alec almost keeps going, too nervous to stop, but there’s something almost dangerous in Magnus’ gaze.

“Yes?”

“You did all this?”

“Not on my own,” Alec shakes his head. “Aline wrote up most of the proposal, and we got as many queer Shadowhunters to come testify as possible. There aren’t a lot of trans Nephilim who are out, but it was important, especially since most of the people on the Council have little knowledge of these issues. Aline being Jia’s daughter probably helped a lot, and our wedding made a lot of noise around here.”

“No,” Magnus catches his wrist. “You did all this and you didn’t tell me anything? Not once?”

Alec deflates. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure it would go anywhere at first, and I know Clave politics can be a touchy subject for you. And then when we finally got the hearing, I kind of wanted to keep it a surprise? I didn’t want you to be disappointed if it didn’t work.”

He doesn’t understand Magnus’ reaction, or rather his lack of reaction. He’s been absurdly happy ever since Aline came by his office earlier this afternoon to bring him the ruling, and he thought Magnus would share his mood once he found out. But he seems pensive instead, like this doesn’t interest him all that much.

“What about you, Alexander?” he asks. “What if it hadn’t worked?”

“We would have kept trying,” Alec shrugs. “Like the last four times we submitted the proposal.”

Magnus blinks. “Four times?”

“The first time, it didn’t even make it past Jia’s office. She’s supportive, but it was shortly after she was elected, and she couldn’t afford the waves it would make when there were still so many Circle supporters around.” Alec consciously stops himself from talking and stills his hands, clasping them behind his back. “Magnus—”

“Yes?” Magnus prompts him.

“Are you angry I didn’t tell you?”

Magnus’ eyes widen in surprise. “No, Alexander, of course not. I’m just—overwhelmed, I suppose. I’m sorry I made you think that.”

“Then what is it? I thought you’d like it.”

Magnus looks away, biting his lip. “I do,” he says. “I—what you’ve accomplished is incredible. It’s going to change—everything—for some people, and that’s amazing. And I know that you didn’t do it for me, but—”

“You’ll be able to get the gender mentioned on your Idris ID changed or removed,” Alec finishes for him. “And anything else you want. I did do it for you, Magnus. Not just you, but for you, too.”

“I’m not a Shadowhunter,” Magnus says.

“You live here, now. This will apply to every Downworlder in Idris, too.”

Magnus works his jaw. “I’m having a hard time processing it,” he admits. “It’s been so long that—to be able to have my whole identity recognized, in Idris of all places—it’s almost impossible to believe.”

Alec’s tension relaxes almost on its own. “You can take your time,” he smiles. “It will still be here tomorrow, and the day after. Are you...mad that I didn’t include you in the process?”

“Why didn’t you?” Magnus frowns.

“I figured you had other things on your mind, with all the work you’re doing to get more Downworlders to move here. And it felt like...like something we should achieve on our own, somehow? I don’t know if that makes sense. Aline and I discussed asking you for advice several times, but we felt like it should be our project.”

“It does make sense,” Magnus nods. “This isn’t just about changing the law. You’re trying to change the culture, your culture, and I’ll never be a part of that. I understand.”

“I don’t want you to feel excluded,” Alec says immediately.

“I don’t. I’m amazed at what you’ve achieved. And if the next step is a rewrite of the Accords, then I’ll back you every step of the way, and push for those changes in the Downworld communities too.” He reaches out to stroke Alec’s cheek tenderly. “I love you, Alexander. You still surprise me every day, and I love you so much for it.”

Alec feels his heart speed up at the declaration, a wave of warmth and love coursing through him, reaching for Magnus. He opens his arms, and Magnus comes to nestle his face in Alec’s neck, hugging him tightly. “I love you too,” Alec says. “It would mean everything to me if we can take this next step in tandem. Change the world together.”

Magnus moves to beam up at him. “You’re incredible, Alexander. You know that?”

“You keep telling me,” Alec smiles, leaning in to kiss him.

As they pull apart again, he can’t help admiring the way the light hits Magnus’ face just right, highlighting the golden sparkles in his blue eyeshadow. Magnus has made it a point to wear warlock blue everyday since they moved to Alicante, but today it’s subdued, down to just his makeup and a discreet sapphire bracelet. He tilts his head, and the light makes his eyes glow.

“When you said the amendment about adoption could affect us, did you mean it?” he asks.

Alec bites his lip. “I know we’ve only talked about children in a very abstract way, but—is that something you’d want?” he asks in a smaller voice than he’d like.

“I’ve never truly wanted it before I met you, but yes, I think I would,” Magnus answers, looking a little awestruck by his own realization.

“It’s not something we need to commit to right now,” Alec reassures him. “But now, if we want to, the Clave will fully recognize any child we adopt as ours, and as a legal resident of Idris.”

“All thanks to you,” Magnus murmurs, tears in his eyes. “Yes, Alexander, I want children with you.”

“Then we’ll start thinking about that,” Alec says with a wide smile. “For now, let’s go home and celebrate properly.”

Magnus laughs wetly and twists his hand to make a portal. “After you,” he says.

Alec grabs his hand and pulls them through together.

#shadowhunters #malec #malec fic #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shadowhunters fic #mine #echo's fanfiction #map out a world #autistic alec lightwood #asexual alec lightwood #nonbinary magnus bane #malec discord server #hmdiscord

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taleofharrison · 4 years

Text

Bass Lines | Calum Hood

Summary: Calum meets reader at a festival and bond over music.

Warnings: none really I think.

Requested: Yes by an anon.

Word Count: 1251 (which is crazy I thought it was shorter)

A/N: This one I wrote it in the second person like the fics I’m used to reading I’m kind of experimenting with different ways of telling stories so I can find with what I’m most comfortable with and because I use fanfic writing as my way of practicing English so enjoy and tell me what you think also I don’t play bass so idk if this is what you had in mind so I hope you like it.

MASTERLIST HERE

It was a small festival just a little something, nothing compared to Coachella or something like that but it still was a festival. They wanted to do something a little bit smaller than the stadiums and sold out venues they were so used to.

As they tuned their instruments Calum allowed himself to start playing and mess around a little bit with his bass plating some riffs not only written by him but from another of their favorites riffs by other bands.

"I recognize that riff!" you said making presence behind him known, "I wrote it"

"Yeah I just was messing around before our presentation" Calum lifted his look from his bass to look at you. He had seen you before, he had been following your band on youtube for a while though in person you looked different prettier is the word he'd use "I've been a fan of your band for a while"

"Really? I never thought the Calum Hood from 5 seconds of summer would be fan our little local band" you teased. Calum could've sworn there was a flirty tone in it.

"Well you have good songs and covers and I think you did a 5sos one, am I right?"

"Yeah we did Moving Along" you answered smiling.

"Sure uhm...Is this your first festival or...?" Calum wanted to talk to you he didn't know what else to talk to you besides music or your band.

"Yeah it is!" you said with a smile "The first time we are performing away from our hometown it's really a big deal for us and we are so excited!"

"Well I wish the best of lucks" he smiled at you. Ashton, Luke, and Michael were sharing amused looks they thought it was funny the way Calum tried to flirt with you "But I don't think you really need it anyways. Your band is great"

You turned your face with a flustered look in your eyes avoiding his gaze "I'm Calum by the way"

"Yeah I know," you said "I'd say you're pretty famous"

"But this is the first time we see each other in person" he pointed.

"Well you might have a point" you smiled "I'm Y/N"

"Y/N! Come here it's almost our turn!" the lead vocalist from your band called you.

"I have to go - uhm - nice to meet you Calum"

Once you weren't in sight Calum turned to face his best friends who were smiling and ready to make fun of him. He just knew it he saw it in their playful smiles.

"For a moment I thought you were ready to ask her to marry you" Luke started followed by Ashton's giggles

"You had heart eyes the whole time you were talking to her!" Michael exclaimed earning an eye roll from Calum.

"Honestly mate you should ask her out or at least for her number" Ashton suggested.

Calum just left the backstage to see your band's performance and maybe take a small video to post on Instagram and give you a boost.

calumhood- been following these girls for a while go check them out @NewLight

As you guys left the stage you saw Calum on the side of the stage.

"So what do you think?" you asked putting your bass down next to you.

"Uhm it was pretty good for a small local band" he teased. He had been flirting with you since the moment he saw you so why not make the first move yourself?

"Maybe you can give some rockstar advice someday?" you offered

"Uh - yeah just give me your number"

Around a week later you were outside of a small coffee shop in California. Calum had asked you to meet him there for a small first date. When you entered you spotted him and the back of the shop a black bucket hat on his head.

"I thought you weren't going to show up" he said once you took a seat next to him.

"Sorry, I lost the track of time I was rehearsing" you explained, "I wouldn't miss the chance of talking to one of my favorite bassists, would I?"

"Am I one of your favorite bassists?" he smirked. You said that out loud without noticing.

"Yeah I mean..." A flustered look took over your face. One thing Calum thought was adorable "My friends and I were 5sos fans and you inspired us to actually go for this dream...our band before we found your music was just a hobby"

He nodded "Well I'm flattered. I'm glad we could inspire you guys somehow you have great covers and your few original songs are great too"

"Thank you" you smiled at his compliments "and thank you for that Instagram post a record label is actually interested in us and we are going to meet them in two days so..."

"No need to thank me" he shrugged "after all my band has a similar story"

You smiled at that "So how long have you been playing the bass?"

"Uhm since I was little...like 8 or 9 years old" you answered "My mom wanted me to play classical music and got me into piano lessons but I never really liked it and when my dad bought me my first bass for my birthday it was the moment I knew that was my thing"

You didn't notice the time until the small place was empty with only the two of you and the barista behind the counter.

"Do you want to continue this date at my house?" he asked "We can fangirl about each other a little more"

"Yeah, I'd like that"

The ride to his house was full of music and exchange of opinions in music, you had a lot in common and you were really enjoying his company you hadn't felt this way about a guy in a while you only hoped this would lead to a second date any time soon.

"Alright so you can use this bass" he gave you a black bass "I'm going to show you what I've been working on"

"Am I getting a 5sos sneak peek before anybody else?" he shook his head smiling and getting ready to show you the riff the had thought of.

"So what do you think?" he asked looking up to see your face.

"I think you can make it faster, I think it would sound better" you took the bass and started playing the exact same riff but faster surprising Calum.

"You just listened to the riff once and now you have it learned?"

"Yeah" you giggled "my mom she didn't want me to take bass lessons really keen on me being the best pianist in the whole world. I had to learn some riffs myself until my dad convinced her and I finally could take bass lessons"

After some advice exchange and rewrites in songs and ideas. Calum realized he was in love or at least that he was falling for you something that he thought was crazy and stupid given the fact this was your first date and hadn't met personally until a week before this.

"Wow you're amazing" he gasped "maybe you can help with some of the ideas I have for the next album and I can help you too"

"That'd be great but I really have to go back home it's getting late" you excused yourself looking at the clock on the wall "maybe next week?"

"Next week it is" Calum smiled agreeing to the plan.

#5sos #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos x reader #calum hood #calum hood blurbs #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum hood x reader #My Writing Corner #angela is writing #calum hood fluff #5sos fluff

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spooks-and-tea · 4 years

Text

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.11] The Final Chapter.

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, bad words, sexual situations (some non-con), the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: Some big bad interrogation Spencer vibes. Thanks for reading. This chapter was short, so I just decided 2 chapter posts in one day. Let me know what you thought of the story~Pleeeeease no one repost on other sites without my permission.

Word Count: 2,015

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11.

************************************************************************After Spencer had disappeared, JJ was surprised, to say the least.

She held the unsub by the cuffs as he angrily spoke about Spencer's big genius brain solving an equation in 2 minutes which had taken himself a lifetime of work to figure out. She asked him where the machine had taken Spencer and he replied with all of this talk about quantum mechanics, particle waves, split dimensions, and voids. Stuff that Spencer had been info-dumping about for months, regarding the case.

All JJ cared to know about was if Spencer was safe, and to that the unsub just shrugged.

The first thing the team did when you all returned to the BAU was throw the unsub into an interrogation room.

Spencer was quick to volunteer as the only interrogator in the room, he argued this unsub would react the strongest to him.

The rest of the team were still flustered from all of this inter-dimensional information that Spencer had gone on about on the ride back. You had backed him up wholeheartedly and you were seemingly in great health after being gone for 5 months.

"Alright Reid, you seem to be the only one of us that has a good idea of what's going on. We'll watch from here, and if he gets too aggressive, we'll send someone else in," Hotch agreed.

You watched from the double sided mirror, the unsub was looking at it as if he could see you. You clenched your fists. He was the reason you'd nearly lost Spencer. He was the reason that Spencer looked sick from overworking and you had nightmares for 5 months straight.

"Hey, will you be okay in here?" Spencer lowered his voice to ask you. You had refused to stop holding his hand since you got here. He noticed your fist clenching tighter.

"I don't want him to take you away from me again," you replied.

"He's in handcuffs, and his machine is being collected for evidence. He isn't a wizard, he needs that machine like Nikola Tesla needs an inductor. He can't hurt us anymore," Spencer tried to comfort you, using the soft tone he knew you loved.

"Just don't take too long in there, and give him hell for me, alright?" You stood on your toes and kissed him.

He gave you a small smile and nodded.

You slowly slid your hand from his as he turned to walk out.

When he entered the interrogation room, he was no longer soft-Spencer.

The unsub didn't even turn to look at him, he was fixated on the double mirror. His eyes unnerved you.

You crossed your hands over your chest and leaned against the wall, deciding to keep your eyes steadily on Spencer.

"We know who you are." Spencer spoke. You smiled, recognizing that Spencer was turning the unsub's words to you against him.

Was Spencer purposefully trying to make you happy while he was in the middle of an interrogation?

"I know who you are as well, Dr. Reid," his gritty voice made your skin crawl.

"Good, then you should know that I understand the significance of the science experiments you've been conducting, Dr. Arnold Lynch. You've been labeled as a dangerous person to the entire world; a mad scientist." Spencer sat in a chair, his arms crossed.

"Now they listen." Lynch, rolled his eyes, finally looking at Spencer. His unimpressed gaze trailed up and down, sizing him up.

"I was like you once. Young, an impressive mind; maybe if I had found her sooner she would have loved me." Lynch added. He looked back to the mirror, you tasted bile at the back of your throat.

Spencer leaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on the table.

"You're trying to change the subject." Spencer pointed out. "Tell me how all of this started. Tell me where your partner, Dr. Deborah Tryst, is hiding and how she helped you."

Lynch's eyes widened. "We were colleagues. She helped me build the machine, and I wrote the equations that made it work. We went in together, the first time."

"She tested the machine with you?" Spencer asked.

"Yes, we experimented. We tried to study the void space for years. Then, one day, a crack formed. Through that crack I saw her." The unsub looked towards you, seemingly locking eyes with you through the one-way glass.

"Y/N?" Spencer clarified.

"Correct. She was spectacular, the girl from a parallel dimension. We didn't know why the crack revealed her at first, but then we saw the string. It was barely noticeable, like a fishing line. It led from her dimensional crack to ours. All it took was a tug on that wire to know who the other end of that line connected to."

He was watching me? What a sick creep!

"Who?"

"Don't play stupid with me Doctor, I know you feel it."

Spencer swallowed, his eyes flicking to you for a moment.

"I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance. My colleague thought differently. Now that the cracks were open, she observed you both, she knew you both would feel-" he sighed, "-incomplete until you were in the same space. She decided to play matchmaker and ruin everything. I loved Y/N first. Y/N was mine and she was a beacon, a magnificent anomaly! I took her back so she could be my pet; so she would never be yours!" He angrily spat, slamming his fists onto the table. Spencer stood, seething. You felt similarly.

"You had no right!" Spencer's voice was deep and angry. You'd never heard him so angry, other than in the show.

"No, Tryst had no right bringing her to you in the first place!"

"Y/N wants to be here. This is her decision. If you're so convinced you love her, you would want what is best for her."

"What's best for her Dr. Reid, or what's best for you? Is she any better off fighting criminals for the BAU? A job she isn't trained for." He cruelly laughed. "Is putting her in danger just so you can fuck her every once in a while off-duty not selfish? You think I'm the selfish one, look at yourself. You're just expecting her to be the lawful Bonnie to your Clyde, how long until you drive her into a hail of bullets?" Lynch smirked.

Spencer's eyes widened and he gripped the table.

No Spence, don't let him get to you.

"That's it, I'm going in there." Morgan spoke up next to you.

Hotch held his hand up to block him; his eyes on Spencer. "Wait, let Spencer speak. He's getting the unsub to talk, and that's good."

Spencer quickly collected himself, his expression going blank.

"Where is Dr. Deborah Tryst?" Spencer asked.

"Ooh, did I strike a chord, Doctor?" Lynch chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"Where is Dr. Deborah Tryst?" Spencer repeated, angrier.

"Probably playing matchmaker. There are an infinite amount of dimensions for her to play with." Lynch shrugged.

"She's still in the void?"

"Yup, she's the reason the crack sealed when you two went through. She trapped herself in there and made sure I could never go back. Whatever she's doing, we'll never know for sure because it is impossible to recreate the initial crack. You should know just how improbable it was to create one in the first place, Dr. Reid."

"So there is no further possibility of danger?"

"Not cosmically, but, for our impossible girl over there, who knows what kind of dangerous situations you will put her in." Lynch nodded to the double mirror.

"She is not yours and she will never be yours. We're putting you in a maximum security prison where you will never see her again. So you can sit in your cell for the rest of your life and remember that she's with me, not you." Spencer's eyes darkened. You wanted to end this fight and get him out of there. He was only getting angrier.

Hotch walked through the interrogation room door, holding it open. "Reid," was all he said.

That was it, Spencer had gotten a lengthy confession from the unsub. The details would come up during his trial.

Spencer stood up, not caring about the wobbling chair as he did so. He walked out of the room and you went to the hallway to meet him. You met him as he was stomping down the hall away from you. "Spencer!" You called, hurrying to follow him.

He made his way inside an empty meeting space and you quickly slipped in behind him; closing the door.

He loosened his tie and ran his hands through his hair. You let him cool off for a few moments.

"He's right. I am selfish." He sounded beyond angry, even guilty.

He leaned forward on the meeting table, clenching his fists against the wood.

"He was just trying to get the last word in. Don't pay his words any more attention." You spoke, softly; placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't work here. You're not properly trained for the high-intensity, high-risk situations."

"Then I can train. Anyways, I doubt Hotch is going to let me work here now that he knows," you said, sadly. You loved working here. You loved helping people and being with your BAU family. You loved Spencer's daily teasing.

"Being with me puts you in enough danger. I couldn't protect you. What's stopping something from happening to you again?" He looked up at you, though he was still hunched over the table.

"All the other times you protected me." You gave him a small smile. "When Chris threatened me, you confronted him. When I jumped into the lake, you stopped me from drowning. When I was stuck in my dimension, you rescued me from a life of being absolutely miserable without you. When the unsub first encountered us, you stood in front of me even though you couldn't see him. You've protected me far more times than you are choosing to acknowledge. I trust you with my life, Spence."

Spencer's shoulders fell as his breath evened out.

"I love you Y/N, I just don't want you to get hurt." Spencer whispered, his grip on the table loosening. He slowly stood up straight to look at you.

"We aren't some alternate justice-duo, Bonnie and Clyde. We're perfectly capable of protecting each other, and we aren't some crazy serial-killing, bank-robbing couple. We're Spencer and Y/N, the BAU's hottest couple." You spoke with exaggeration and winked.

Spencer gave you a small smile. His hair was a mess, his clothing was wrinkled, and his tie was undone.

"It's been a long day. Take me home?" You asked, giving him your best doe-eyes as you reached up to fix his tie.

"Oh. About that- you're apartment and all your money and assets are sorta gone now. You were presumed dead."

"I'm not talking about that place." You rolled your eyes; unaffected by the news.

You were used to being dirt poor anyways and that house was nothing but an empty shell.

"Home, with you," you explained.

"Oh."

Spencer broke out into a large grin. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. His coffee and woodsy-vanilla scent enveloped you like a warm hug. When he pulled away, he held his hand out to you.

"Come on then, I'll take you home."

Home, it was a strange concept. Your now-empty apartment in your dimension was once your home. You'd once almost drowned yourself to try to get back to that place.

Then you fell in love with Spencer, and living with him made you discover what a home truly was. It wasn't where you were from, it was the place you loved to be; the place you felt most comfortable, the most yourself.

Your home was in Spencer's dimension, Spencer's apartment, Spencer's arms, Spencer's everyday gestures, Spencer's smile, Spencer's late night chess games, Spencer's "I love you's," Spencer's raspy morning voice, Spencer's unruly hair, Spencer's hand kisses, Spencer's scrunched nose ticks, Spencer's info-dumps, Spencer's everything.

It was the most improbable circumstance and the one thing you were most thankful for. You got to spend your new life with Spencer.

In the end, Spencer Reid kept his promise; he did help you find your way home. Your way home to him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #cm #drama #fanfiction #romance

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casualotptrash · 3 years

Text

Why the Persona 3 FES vs Portable Debate Makes Me Want to Fly Into the Sun Pt. 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Da da da daaa!

Part 3 of this lovely emotional rant is here, for anyone who wants to spend their time reading these. With the last two posts, I have mostly tried to be informative or just complain a bit about why this debate makes me want to fly into the sun, but for this post it’s going to go a little different. Perhaps a bit more subjective than the others.

In this post, I’m going to go over everyone's favorite clusterfuck...a definitive version of Persona 3.

Now, as we established in the previous post, we know that the argument of FES vs Portable is essentially pointless because everyone’s opinion on either game is subjective. However, I have neglected to bring up this topic that puts a huge ass nail into this dusty old coffin: the fact that there is objectively no definitive version of Persona 3.

Everyone can argue all day and night about which version of P3 is better, but no one can deny that either version are “definitive.” By definitive, I mean that the game has the most content that is offered, like Persona 4 Golden or Persona 5 Royal. The reason none of the P3 games are definitive is because base P3 lacks stuff from FES and Portable, FES lacks stuff fro Portable, and Portable lacks things from FES. It’s a gamble of whether you want to experience cutscenes, an overworld, and The Answer, or a whole new route with the FeMC and the brand new option of dating male party members and saving...you know who.

One might be able to say FES is definitive because it has The Answer, which I believe is considered canon according to the Arena games. Another could say Portable is the definitive version because it came out after FES, added the FeMC (who is technically canon as per the second Persona Q game), and removes The Answer (which a lot of people said The Answer messed with the core theme of P3). However, the definition of definitive in this case, and with all of the other games, is that the game offers the most content. Arguably, FES and Portable provide the same amount of content, just in different ways. This is why this whole conversation of which one is better, or which to play first, spawned in the first place.

The reason I am bringing this up in this post, about why this whole discussion physically pains me, is because having a real, definitive version of the game could finally put this discussion to rest. At least, it somewhat would. People would probably still argue that FES is the best for some reason.

Now, the argument becomes...well, what does a definitive version of Persona 3 look like?

I have seen quite a bit about this topic, and people seem to really miss some common sense points. For example, they get caught up in whether it would be considered a remake or a remaster. I know some use those terms interchangeably, but the “official” definition for each is that a remake is a game that is made from scratch, while a remaster is made by updating the existing assets and engine. For example, the upcoming Nocturne HD release is a remaster. Personally I find it difficult to neatly fit the typical persona definitive editions, like Golden and Royal, into either of these categories. It may just be me not fully grasping the differences between the two, but I believe they would fit into more of the “remaster” category. It is true that there are new assets and content being added to the game, but it’s so minor that I’m not sure it could be considered a remake. On the other hand, because new content is added it couldn’t just be defined as a remaster because typically the effects and such aren’t even changed that much. It’s just gameplay and story content that is tweaked.

When people get so caught up in what it would be considered, logic seems to...go out the window? For example, in a debate between a P3 remaster or remake, a person made a comment that if a remake was to happen then people would demand that all of the social links be available to anyone. Now, that just isn’t possible for a variety of reasons. There’s no way we could ever mix and match social links to get a preferred grouping. Another issue with this is that if just a remaster was made, then one of the two games would be left out.

This is why I don’t really think about whether a definitive edition is a remaster or remake, because using such strict labels make it harder to judge what could, or should, be in one. This is why I’m just referring to this process as making a definitive edition. That being said, I would consider a definitive P3 game to be more of a remake (not that it really matters) because my ideas would essentially combine FES and Portable, in a way?

So here we go, into my idea of what a definitive version of Persona 3 would look like. (Warning: This will contain spoilers for all of the P3 story and *gasp* may be a bit biased toward Portable because I like it more)

1. Presentation

In simple terms, I would want the game to essentially be Portable...but with updated graphics, cutscenes from FES, and an overworld. It’s easier to use Portable as a base because it’s already closer to the format of P4 and P5, so then adding in the good parts of FES with the cutscenes and overworld are par for the course. As far as graphics go, I would like the models and environment to look more like P3D (aka whatever engine they used for Persona 5?) because damn did the characters get a glow up.

2. Gameplay

Along with the format of Portable, I would also want the gameplay of Portable to be in this definitive version. That means no jealousy system, no fatigue until after you leave tartarus, the vision quest, and the other changes I mentioned in the first post. Sorry FES fans, but yes...I would still want the option of controllable party members. However, a new change that should be added is backup members earning exp. I don’t think baton passes or anything should be added, we don’t want a clone of P5, and the combo attacks in P3P kind of fill this role anyway. The idea of having social links give certain perks with ranks, like how confidants work in P5, is interesting but I don’t think it would be necessary. I would also say that the soundtrack should be exclusive for each side, like how it is in Portable, and that there should be an option to choose which skills are inherited.

3. Social Links

The stance I would take with social links would essentially be how Portable did it, but with a slight tweak. No matter how much it would be cool to date Rio or Saori as the Male MC, or vice versa with Kaz or Keisuke and FeMC, I don’t think any mixing of the two sides would really be feasible. However, I would love to see cameos of those characters in the opposing routes. For example, you see Yuko and Kaz in the female route, but in the male route you could see Saori and Rio at school. That being said, and this is probably one of the biggest issues, I would want the male protag to be able to have social links with the entire party, men included. This brings up the issue of what social links you would cut out because you can’t have two social links be the exact same arcana. Unless they want to add more arcanas to the game, which would probably not go over well either, the best option is probably to prioritize the male party members and then have who would usually be in their place just show up sometimes. For example, Kenji would show up in the social link with Junpei instead of the magician social link just being about one or the other.

I know this seems weird, but it does kind of avoid shafting one or the other. If it was too hard to fit the two together (such as Chihiro and Ken both being Justice), perhaps a few more school scenes could be added where the MC interacts with the school friends that are not seen as much (Kenji, Chihiro, etc.) However, and this might piss off 1% of people but whatever, but the moon arcana with Nozomi (Gourmet king dude) could just be completely taken over by Shinji. Nozomi is a meme, but he is not needed in any way. Also, I would prioritize Yuko in the male route over Koromaru since, although he is a very good boy, he is still a dog. Also, please get rid of the option that you’re forced to romance every girl in the male route, and personally I would say keep in the fact that you cannot date Junpei. In a headcanon sort of way, I totally dig the idea of the MC being able to help Junpei through his rough time after Chidori dies (if she dies?) and feelings grow from there, but from a story perspective I think it’s integral to his character that he friendzones the player if they try.

So TLDR; who the social link is about would mainly stay true to the original route (male route with Kaz, etc. and female route with Rio, etc.), however in the male route the party members would take priority (so Akihiko would take the star arcana place and Mamoru (track guy) would just be featured in the link sometimes), and in both routes Shinji would take Nozomi’s place as the moon. Important note that besides including the other character, the main substance of the social link shouldn’t be changed; aka they should not change the format of the social links to operate more like P5 social links where the MC is just solving all of their problems.

(Sidenote: This is imply my idea on how to include party members into the social links for the male route, however if they just decided to keep the social links the exact same as Portable with no male party member social links with the male route then I’d be fine with that too. It wouldn’t really take away from the game as a whole for me, personally.)

4. Romance Options

Riding off of the social link talk...and I know this is like the least likely option of happening, but please make some gay options Atlus? If we can romance every single girl in the male route, why not just add the romance option for the men too? Yes yes there’s the whole argument about the issue of “making everyone bi” (thanks for erasing sexuality that care more about connections rather than gender?), but I say look no further than how Dragon Age 2 did it. Every romanceable option in that game can be romanced be either the male or female main character (barring a DLC character who is only romanceable by females), and it works just fine. Turns out, no one really gives a shit if it’s “realistic” enough (aka only having one or no bi/gay people apparently?) because it’s a video game and people want to romance whoever they want...because it’s a video game. Even if you really, really don’t like this approach there is also the option of going the Dragon Age Inquisition route, where characters are able to be romanced by certain genders and not by others (race also plays a role in this in the game, since there are elves and other fantasy races and such, but this is not applicable to Persona obviously). This is simply a hypothetical example, but how this would work is that like Fuuka can only be romanced by the Male MC, Akihiko and Yukari could be romanced by either MC, and Mitsuru could only be romanced by the FeMC. Obviously social links specific to a run would be a romanceable option to the MC in their route (as in Yuko would only be romanceable by Male MC because she’s only in her run, and social links like Saori could be a romance for FeMC because she’s specific to her route). I have a gut feeling this would cause an even bigger uproar with the fandom, so having any romance option (barring route specific social links for the route they’re not in) be available for either male or female MC is the best option in my opinion.

Take out Ken’s romance option altogether though. I know some of the language is different, so it doesn’t say you “spend a long night together” or whatever, but that doesn’t really make it any better. I do think it’s fine if Ken has a crush on the MC, and maybe has a whole Kenji thing of thinking they are together cause he’s 10 and kids can be like that, but the MC wouldn’t actually act on this and the player could be given the choice to actively dissuade Ken. The only good thing that came out of Ken’s romance option was the fact that him and Akihiko can argue in Tartarus if you romance them both, and I don’t want to lose that hilarious dialogue.

5. Tartarus

Tartarus...uh...to be honest I’m not really sure what to do with this beast. It’s boring and tedious in the first place, probably by design for symbolism in the game, but I’m not sure how to make it interesting without copying the dungeon/palace format. Perhaps the blocks could be restructured to act more like a big puzzle that needs to be solved, like certain sections of palaces in P5, but also have bosses and shadows thrown in. For example, perhaps one block could be more reminiscent of hide-and-seek stealth tactics while another is formatted like a series of arena-esque gladiator fights. Also probably lower the number of floors you need to climb? It gets a bit ridiculous when you realize there are 264 floors of Tartarus and 99% of them are the same but just with more funky music and slightly different decorations. This job is suited for someone with actual video game making experience though, and not me.

6. Awakenings and Pacing

Let’s talk about some quick fixes to awakenings and pacing of the game. Now, since this is a definitive version and not a true remake, I wouldn’t want them to rewrite the entire story or something. Most of the party member’s original awakenings happen off screen, which can be kind of lackluster. The MC’s and Fuuka’s are the only two we really see, and those moments were really cool in my opinion. Obviously we wouldn’t see Mitsuru’s, Akihiko’s, or Shinji’s original awakenings, but that is fine. Yukari and Junpei also fall into this boat because Yukari awakens before the MC gets to the dorm, and it would be hard to show Junpei’s awakening while also having his whole “reveal” moment when he comes to the dorm to live there. I don’t know if it’s ever mentioned when Ken awakens to his persona, but making a scene to show both his and Koromaru’s would be helpful instead of just saying Ken has the potential and he’s joining, and hearing about Koromaru awakening but not actually seeing it. As for the pacing, I’m mainly talking about the summer time where you can’t hang out with a good number of social links. I would just change this so that you can hang out with school social links during this time more readily, like if they’re just hanging out somewhere in town if they’re not at school. Like I said, this isn’t a remake (and I’m not a video game designer) so I didn’t want to get into how to fix the overall pacing of the story, which can be pretty slow until October or so. My one suggestion is maybe adding in a few extra scenes with Strega before October so it’s not like we run into them a couple times and suddenly they’re a major villain.

7. Shinjiro

(Spoilers for after October) I know certain people will definitely not like this point, but I think the option to save Shinji should remain in the game (and Chidori too). I’ll go into this in another post, but my main reason for keeping this in is because some people really do like this option, so it would be kind of unfair just to get rid of it because other people don’t like it. However, I would suggest a change to his social link so that there is the option to save him or not while also being able to complete the social link. Perhaps after rank 10 would be when you could give him the pocket watch, so that people could get the rank 10 and not be forced to save him.

8. Extra Content

(Spoilers for the ending of Persona 3 and The Answer) Each definitive version has extra content in the “third semester” (because Persona 4 and 5 both essentially end after December), but in Persona 3 the natural game ends in January. I am not sure if they would try to add another whole months or so on, but because The Answer already exists, but I assume they wouldn’t add extra content in February or something for the MC. For The Answer, I would keep this in the game as sort of the “extra content” but add a FeMC version of this. Obviously it would be largely the same, except with the FeMC and perhaps the male party members could get more of a focus since the female party members get a larger focus in the male route (ie. Yukari breaking down with the keys. Maybe Junpei or Akihiko could take on this role as the people who don’t want to let go). Also, as a possible new addition to The Answer, Shinji could be a part of it if he is saved during the main game. In the NG+ run of Portable FeMC route, if you romance Shinji he comes to the rooftop for that final scene, so in a way it could be possible for him to recover by the time The Answer happens in March.

Now, if Atlus decided to add a more typical “extra content” thing, I hope they wouldn’t try to cram The Answer in on top of that unless they were able to do it cohesively. It might be a lot to have the whole ending of the game in January, come up with a reason to have extra content in February (presumably with the MC still alive, but also combat would need to be a part so then the issue arises of Tartarus coming back or something?), and then have the answer take place right after near the end of March.

Well that’s the end of that I think. This will also be the last post in this little “series” because I pretty much went over everything about this debate that makes me want to fly into the sun. I know the things I talked about in these posts will probably never stop, but I really hope that if a definitive version comes out at least the discussion will change to saying what is good or bad about each game rather than FES supremacy or whatever. That being said, above all I really hope this debate doesn’t discourage new fans from Persona 3 or the series in general, because that would probably be the worst outcome from all of this. It’s a great game, and it’s a shame that the game itself is kind of held back by being split into two (I’m not counting base Persona 3) different forms.

#persona 3 #persona 3 portable #p3 #p3p #long post #this is the end guys #my rocket is finished and im ready to fly into the sun #thank you to whoever decided to read all of these #you're the real mvp #is there a hashtag for persona fans to stop fighting persona fans #or to at least stop persona 3 fans from having a pissing contest with one another

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

In Another World

Summary: In another world, it was Jensen that got the role of Captain America, not Chris. You have dreamed of meeting Jensen ever since you saw him in his CGI glory in The First Avenger, and your comicon experience you discover to be underwhelming. But then you meet a cosplayer in the bar... and life takes an altogether different turn for you.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Comicon, Comic Convention, Strangers at a Bar, Cosplay, Captain America Cosplay, Unprotected Sex, Hotel Room Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Blow Job, Anal Play.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader (no race specified)

The above Jensen manip i cannot trace, it was sent to me years ago by a now deactivated tumblr user, with the signature half chopped off. Its the artwork that inspired this fic. In case you weren’t aware, Jensen auditioned for the role of Captain America but it of course went to Chris.

I do not operate a tag list, but feel free to go ahead and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified when i post a new story. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives.

Due to the amount of stories i have written over the years i no longer have a masterlist, instead please check out my AO3 HERE.

In Another World

You sat at your computer, staring at the screen as you streamed the latest press junket. Marvel was going all out with its ten-year plan for The Avengers and with this press tour for The Winter Soldier you had fallen in love even more with Cap.

As the images streamed live from the far east, you watched as Jensen flexed his muscles and his co-stars laughed in admiration. He was born to be Captain America.

But you weren’t the only one watching.

In a small apartment in Boston another pair of eyes watched with an added level of sadness. He remembered the audition. Standing in the hallway with a bunch of other guys, all in their 20’s, all having a few bit-part roles under their belts in teen TV shows or low budget horror movies. The same green eyes that stared out of the screen had looked at him in the hallway, holding his hand out to shake;

“Hey man. Jensen”

“Chris”

Jensen smiled;

“Strong Boston accent there dude”

Chris chuckled;

“Say the same about you, what’s that Houston?”

“Dallas”

“Eh, close enough”

They chatted for a while as the guys ahead of them in the line entered the room, only to leave 5 minutes later. They didn’t look up at the guys left, no-one wanted to read expressions to give themselves fake hope. The door opened and the annoying droll voice of the elderly secretary called out;

“Ackles”

Chris looked up, holding his hand out to his new acquaintance;

“Break a leg man”

Shaking it briefly Jensen nodded;

“Thanks man”

You clung to your priority tickets, the excitement so intense you weren’t sure if you were going to puke or cry. You hoped for neither. It was your first convention and you had maxed out your credit card and called in sick from work when the special edition tickets had been released, refreshing your computer every ten seconds so that when they had been released online you had made your purchase within 30 seconds.

Now standing towards the front of the queue you were terrified. You had loved Jensen from the first moment you’d seen him in all his CGI glory in The First Avenger. You’d followed his career and had even gone back and watched his entire back catalogue. He was a natural for the role and the stealth suit from the most recent movie had made him look so handsome you had actually swooned when you had seen those first opening scenes of the movie aboard the Lumerian Star.

The con volunteers were doing an amazing job, herding the fans into some form of order, and as you got closer you could hear the laughter and squeals of joy as fans ahead of you were rapidly shown in.

It was your turn. The flimsy black curtain was pulled aside, and you were pushed into the brightness of the well-lit area that was surrounded on all sides by vivid blue panels that bore the con’s logo. Jensen turned and smiled, putting his hand out and you found you were standing next to him. Your head swam;

“Do you have a pose?”

“Umm…” You could see the con workers and volunteers moving their arms in a ‘hurry up’ motion; “I guess… a hug?”

“Sure thing”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pointed towards the bored looking photographer;

“Smile sweetie”

You did. You smiled, your saw blobs as the flash blinded you. You didn’t even register as Jensen pressed his hand to your back, thanking you before turning to the next person who had already been pulled through the black curtain. A volunteer took your wrist and pulled you gently through the curtain on the far side, giving you your photo number as they apologised it was so fast.

The curtain closed and you stood there, blinking as you tried to focus on the small piece of paper you held. It was done. Over. You’d met Jensen and it had been so rushed you hadn’t even had chance to look at him.

The bile started to rise, you looked around and saw a trash can, leaning over it and vomited into the piles of used coffee cups and candy wrappers.

The hunt for a bottle of water at a con hadn’t been something you would think would take so long; a lot of the vendors had already sold out, others the line was so long it would have taken you longer to get the water than the queue for the con in the first place. It seemed as if everyone was walking against you, or you were going against the flow of them, but when you finally got your water you drained the entire bottle, soothing your bile parched throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you heard an announcement over the PA system;

“We apologise, but the Jensen Ackles panel won’t be broadcast out of the auditorium due to technical issues”

“WHAT?” you grabbed your wrist, looking at your watch as your eyes went wide. You’d been so dazed by your photo op and feeling ill afterwards you had forgotten about the panel. You needed a drink, and something stronger than water.

Chris adjusted the helmet of his costume as he looked in the mirror. The men’s room was quiet, the main panel of the con was on and he couldn’t bring himself to sit in the same room as the guy that had won the role that had made him millions; of fans and dollars.

After not getting the Captain America role Chris had continued to take bit parts and small independent movies. He was recognised occasionally but he hadn’t hit the big time. In fact there were months when there was nothing coming in and it was only after someone had asked him to fill in at a kids party where one of the superhero guys had fallen sick at the last minute did the idea of cosplaying come to him. Now however he was well known in cosplay circles, even getting paid for some appearances. He was called a natural for the role, but that was the hardest to hear. He’d worked hard with his costumer and within just a few weeks of the latest movie coming out they’d successfully recreated the amazing Stealth Suit in its darker colours.

Checking his pants for his wallet he decided he needed a drink, and something stronger than a soda.

Nodding to the bartender, you thanked him as he set the beer down in front of you before he went to the far end of the bar to pull the latest load of glasses out of the dishwasher. You sat picking at the label and tracing patterns in the condensation that gathered on the cool glass. You were vaguely aware of other people coming and going, and when the barstool next to you was taken you didn’t look up.

“What’ll it be Cap?”

The bartender’s greeting drew your attention from your drink, casting your gaze to your side and your breath was sucked from your body. You watched as the man set his helmet onto the surface of the bar before nodding to what you were drinking;

“Same as the lady please”

Your eyes travelled from where his hand sat on the countertop of the bar up the dark sleeve of his stealth suit, taking in his wide shoulders and up to the fluffy dark blonde hair, slightly messed up from where he’d been wearing the helmet. You couldn’t help it, but you were staring. Your jaw was hanging low as he turned slowly to you, his blue eyes sparkling with just the faintest hint of green as he looked at you and a self-conscious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth;

“Hi…”

“You’re… you’re…”

“No, just cosplaying…” he turned back to his beer for a moment until you finally found your voice

“No. You’re Chris”

He set his beer on the countertop and turned to you, this time a genuine smile on his face;

“Do we know each other?”

“Well…” you blushed; “We spoke on Instagram” He cocked an eyebrow, but his attention didn’t waiver from you as you continued; “You’re ‘AlmostCap’, right? You posted about wanting advice on how to dye leather boots a deeper colour? I messaged you with the details of the dyes costumiers use”

His face broke into a wide smile;

“Oh yeah, that really worked! How did you know that?”

“Majored in theatre design at college”

“Well that titbit of knowledge brought the whole costume together” he motioned to his stealth suit and you couldn’t help but to look him up and down; “Without you I wouldn’t look this good”

You snorted back a laugh;

“I’m sure you look just a good without the suit”

Bringing your beer to your lips you took a sip, not realising Chris had moved closer until his lips brushed against your ear;

“Would you like to find out?”

The hotel room door crashed against the wall, the metal doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall. Chris had you pressed up against it, one hand holding you flush with his chest as his other hand blindly reached out for the door to close it. As soon as his fingertips grasped the cool wood he threw it shut with a thud that reverberated through the room.

Your hands clawed at Chris’s costume, desperate to find purchase, something, anything to hang onto and anchor yourself as he kissed you so hard you saw spangled stars. He’d put his costume helmet back on for the rather quick walk through the convention to the hotel where you were staying. His lips traced patterns over your cheek before he pressed kisses down your neck, whispering as he went;

“I don’t normally do this…”

“Me neither…

“...especially in costume…”

“Oh Chris…Cap…”

“It’s Captain tonight, Princess”

His fingers had found their way to the buttons on the front of your dress, skilfully plucking each one from its grasp on the thin cotton fabric, before his still gloved hand roughly cupped your breasts. As his lips found yours again, he groaned into your mouth as he weighed your breasts in his large hands, the rough leather against the lace of your bra sending chills through you. If Chris had a Captain kink you weren’t about to say no, hell, it would be one of your biggest fantasies.

You found yourself being manhandled towards the bed, Chris’s kisses hard and ravenous, and when he wasn’t kissing you his tongue was doing the most devilish things on your skin. The bed touched the back of your knees and you were falling back onto the covers, Chris following seconds later as he pressed you into the mattress. With a thick thigh he pushed your legs apart, the rough Kevlar fabric of his suit brushing against the delicate skin of your soft skin as his fingers sought out the juncture of thighs. The brush of the harsh leather of his fingerless gloves made you groan into his mouth as he tugged your panties to the side and his thumb found your clit. Rubbing small circles, he teased it from its hood, before his fingers slid through your folds to ease some of your slick moisture from you to smooth his efforts.

When his lips left yours you chased after them, but his voice made you settle back against the bed and open your eyes;

“Uh-uh… stay there Princess”

You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, before his kiss bruised lips closed around his glistening digits and he moaned as he tasted you;

“You taste amazing”

“Umm… thank you?”

“Here…”

He brought his hand to your mouth and you grasped it as you sucked gently on just the fingertips, watching as Chris’s already lust blown pupils widened even further;

“Jesus fucking Christ, your tongue…”

Letting go of his fingers with an audible pop, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, resting on one arm as you slid a hand between your bodies and palmed his erection through his suit;

“What about my tongue?” you grinned before you tugged him down to lay beside you.

Pushing up onto your knees you ran your hand down his chest and stomach, the costume warm from his body heat and firm to the touch. Your fingers clawed at his suit to try and find the zipper, and after thirty seconds of searching you let out a huff;

“Ok, how the fuck to I get in here?”

With a low chuckle Chris reached down and lifted a hidden Velcro flap that revealed the button and the top of the zipper, and you eagerly tugged the pants of his suit open. The large bulge in his boxers immediately filled the space of the open zipper, and you found yourself nuzzling against the hardness that the soft jersey fabric could hardly contain. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the hard shaft through the fabric, you felt Chris’s hands on your head, he wasn’t pushing but you could tell he wanted you. With a smile you just about tugged his boxers down enough to free his cock, the thick shaft standing proud from the fly of his stealth suit. You wrapped your hands around it, the flesh hot to touch and pumped him slowly.

“Ah fuck Princess…”

“Yes Captain?”

“Please…”

He sounded wrecked, and as you leant forwards and licked at the bead of clear precum that was pooling at the tip you not only heard but felt the low rumble of his moan of appreciation. Wrapping your lips around the tip you started to suck, your tongue working over the hot smooth flesh as your fist worked up and down, pumping him slowly as you let the saliva pool in your mouth so you could take him deeper. In a moment when you pulled off to take a breath Chris’s hands were suddenly on your hips, moving you until you were kneeling on the bed and straddling his shoulders, and for a moment you squealed where his sudden strength had moved you with such ease.

“Gotta taste you…” he muttered from beneath the skirt of your dress, his hands smoothing over the globes of your ass and you could feel his breath hot on your skin. His fingers tugged your panties to the side and he was pulling you down onto his mouth, his tongue swiping through your soaked folds.

For a moment you lost yourself, Chris’s efforts driving you closer to orgasm than you thought was possible, but you found your senses and leant forwards again, taking him as deep as you could and you felt his moan deep in your cunt as he almost came on the spot. Working your fingers into his suit you cupped his balls, feeling them tight and hot in your hand as you sucked hard on his cock. At the same time you felt Chris drive his tongue into your soaked hole and his thumb sought out your clit. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, and you could feel your legs start to shake. The harder he drove forwards the deeper you took him into your mouth. You heard a muffled cry from between your thighs and you felt that first tremble of the thick vein that ran the length of his cock. At the same time you felt his fingers dance over the crack of your ass, one finger pressing lightly against your dark rose and you were cumming over his face as he pumped thick ropes of cum down your throat.

When your legs were about to give out you tactfully rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to Chris as he fought to catch his breath. With laboured efforts he wrenched his helmet off, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he started to fumble with his costume;

“Gotta get out of this…”

Watching a hot guy strip was not something you’d experienced before, and a hot guy dressed as Captain America? Well that was hitting all your buttons in one go. You smiled as Chris was muttering to himself;

“Fuckin’ suit, so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ drenched in sweat…”

When he was down to just his pants you finally spoke up;

“Need a hand there Captain?”

Chris looked up and grinned;

“You mind if I use your shower?”

“Sure thing, it’s all yours…”

Chris started for the small bathroom door, his utility pants hanging low on his hips before he paused and turned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth;

“Wanna join me?”

Showering with a guy you had literally just met was a surreal experience. The comfort and security of being partially clothed during a hook-up was completely stripped from you as you stood in the small shower enclosure the hotel room offered. Chris had looked absolutely sinful as he had stood beneath the cascading water; his skin patterned with multiple tattoos and just the right amount of chest hair that made you want to run your fingers through it as the hot water coursed over his body. Your fingers had trailed down over his hard stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led to his thick cock hanging heavy between his muscled thighs.

His lips had met yours eagerly again, and he soon had you pressed against the wall, his leg wedged between your thighs as you ground yourself against the firm muscle. Chris’s hands found your ass and eagerly pulled you hard against him, trapping his now angry cock between your bodies;

“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered against your ear, his fingers digging into your asscheeks; “You gonna cum for me Princess? Soak my thigh?”

“Yes Chris, please…”

“What do you need Princess?”

“Something…. Just more…”

He pulled back from you, searching your expression for something, anything as he chose his words;

“I can give you more…” The depth of tone sent a shudder down your spine; “I’m gonna ask you this and you can say no, and I won’t walk out that door if you say no, but do you like ass play?”

You growled. You god-damn growled like a feral wildcat, nodding eagerly;

“Yes Chris… fuck, yes…”

He captured your lips for another fierce kiss as his hands slid over your ass and one finger trailed up the seam of your cheeks before pressing gently against your rear;

“Now Princess” he muttered against your lips; “I haven’t got any lube in here so it’ll just be a gentle press, you tell me if you want me to stop”

You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed forwards, one hand gripping your hip as he slid you up and down his soaked thigh, the other pressing gently but insistently against your back door.

Just that stimulation alone was enough, and you were cumming hard, your head pressed against the cool tiles as Chris sucked a hickey into your neck.

You stood there panting as you tried to regain your composure, Chris holding you tight in his arms as he gently caressed you as you finally came to your senses. Nuzzling against his neck you felt him push his hips forward, his thick cock hard again against your hip;

“Ready for another round?”

“Anything for you Cap” you grinned.

The pair of you had fallen back onto the bed, half dry and oblivious to anything other than pleasure. Body heat rising, you felt your back naturally arch as Chris lay on top of you, pulling his knee up to part your legs further and you could feel his thick length laying hot and hard against your soaked folds. As his other leg pushed up and parted your thighs even further, you felt that first nudge of his tip at your soaked entrance, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist and with one firm squeeze you felt his breach your body and slide into you.

The base noise that escaped your throat as you felt each glorious inch stretch your velvet walls was music to Chris’s ears, and he let you take the lead even though he was the one on top, letting your body grow accustomed to his size. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke softly;

“You’re doing so good Princess, feel so fuckin’ amazing, takin’ me so deep”

You slowly relaxed your thighs grip on his waist and Chris started to move, sliding his hips back as he slid out, before pushing slowly back in. Propping himself up either side of you, you watched as his arms bulged as he looked down and watched as he pulled out again, your wetness liberally coating him.

With his tip just notched inside you whined at the loss, before with a powerful thrust he filled you completely;

“Holy FUCK!”

“Do you like that Princess? Like my thick dick splitting you open?”

“Fuck Chris, yes, do it again… please!” you whined.

The gorgeous man above you grinned down, seemingly turned on by your begging, and with a loud grunt he started to pile drive into you, his impressive girth stretching you in all the right ways, the slight upward curve to his shaft making your g-spot his number one target with every push. The man was a demon in bed, fucking you hard as he pressed kisses to your chest and breasts, all whilst uttering the dirtiest things about how good you felt, how well you were taking his dick. You begged for more and he eagerly gave it, fucking you through one orgasm before chasing another. His thrusts started to get sloppy, his hips stuttering and he cursed quietly under his breath;

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon…”

“Cum inside me… I’m on the pill…”

He pushed a hand between your bodies, rubbing hard circles against your clit and soon you were coming, your orgasm triggering his, and you as your body milked the cum from his body you both felt like you had found heaven.

With a grunt Chris rolled to your side, his dick sliding out of your soaked channel and he lay on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow, his dick full and swollen at your hip, still shining with your combined fluids. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, and you practically purred when Chris gently ran his fingertips over your breasts;

“That was fuckin’ amazing… I’m probably going about this the wrong way, but can I buy you dinner?”

“That’d be nice”

Dinner had been a fun affair; you had redressed, and Chris had worn his stealth suit pants but just wore the thin Under Armour undershirt instead of the full suit. Although the hotel was well used to people in cosplay costumes during the conventions using their facilities, Chris didn’t want to draw attention to himself, instead he wanted his sole attention to be able to be on you rather than people asking for photos. Throughout your meal the conversation had been fun and light, Chris telling you how he had in fact auditioned for the Marvel role but didn’t envy the craziness that came with the now worldwide recognition that Jensen had to put up with. You had explained how you now worked for a theatrical costumer’s agency on the West Coast, but had heard about some openings for a new series production out of Vancouver.

Chris laughed softly;

“Typical… I fall for a girl that lives on the opposite side of the country”

“You… you’ve fallen for me?”

Chris paused, resting his hand over yours;

“I’m sorry, I’m kinda sappy when it comes to relationships… and I gotta be honest, when I saw you at the bar, I recognised you from your Instagram and when you helped me… I was trying to play it cool…” he took a deep breath; “I hope I’m not scaring you off…”

Leaning forward you pressed a kiss to his cheek;

“No… it’s nice… its more than nice…”

Once the meal was over the pair of you stood in the foyer, unsure what to do before Chris pointed out the rest of his costume was in your room.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“I was meant to be crashing on a friends couch”

Grinning you pulled him close;

“Did you want a bed rather than a couch?”

“Fuck yes”

Minutes later you were crashing in the door to your room, Chris’s hands and lips trying to cover every inch of your body, and this time with the knowledge of how his costume worked you knew exactly how to get his pants open, tugging them to the floor as you pushed him into one of the chairs and knelt at his booted feet. With his dick in your mouth he was soon hard again, but that was when he took control, standing and moving you until you were knelt on the soft chair arms looking out of the high rise window over the convention center and city below, the lights of the city oblivious as he flipped your skirt up and pulled your panties down, and filled you with one smooth thrust;

“Fuck… this pussy is fuckin’ perfect, you feel like heaven…”

Wrapping his strong arms around you he pulled you flush with his hard chest, sucking at your neck as his dick rubbed so beautifully against your g-spot you were coming again, screaming out your release as Chris pulled out and lifted you, pulling you to your feet before you found yourself pressed against the wall and he filled you again.

Clinging to his wide shoulders you felt him filling you over and over, your pleasure climbing higher than you ever thought possible. Chris’s strong arms were holding you up, his large hands gripping your ass as he fucked you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his narrow waist;

“Chris, I’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, cum for me, let me feel that pussy milking me as I fill you up… you feel so good, I’m never letting this pussy go…”

As you came so did he, your walls squeezing him so tight he thought he may pass out from the sheer pleasure. For the longest time he just held you there, your bodies joined until Chris’s dick softened enough to slip out of you. Letting your feet fall to the ground you kissed as you made your way to the bed, falling onto the mattress before wrapping the covers around your flushed bodies, falling asleep soon after.

The sound of a phone ringing pulled you from sleep, the warm body next to you grumbling at the sound before it rapidly jumped out of bed;

“Fuck, that’s my phone”

Through bleary eyes you watched Chris’s naked ass as he rummaged through the piles of clothing on the floor, finding his phone and answering it just in time;

“Yeah… uh-huh… for real?! Yeah absolutely! Send me the details, I’ll be there!”

You watched as he listened a little longer before ending the call, turning to you and he had the biggest smile on his face;

“I might have gotten a part!”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, they want me to do some screen tests with a possible co-star, see if there’s chemistry”

Jumping out of bed you ran and hugged him, kissing him deeply as he carried you back to the bed;

“I feel like celebrating… how about breakfast in bed?”

“Ok, I’ll call room serv… oh…”

Chris was pushing your legs apart and kissing up your inner thigh, and that’s when you realised he was talking about a different kind of breakfast in bed. As you lay back and enjoyed the magic he could perform with his tongue, you blissed out from pleasure.

Three Weeks Later

Chris finished the last scene, the director calling cut and he grinned as he looked at his castmates. None of them could quite believe how they were there, standing in a cold and rainy British Columbia small town, with writers and directors that had been trying to get their series picked up for years.

The rest of the cast of ‘Supernatural’ was a small ensemble, and having been given the role of the older brother; Dean Winchester, Chris felt at home with the role and had been given he contract straight after his screen test with his on screen brother Sam. Laughing with the actor that played Sam - a native New Yorker by the name of Sebastian - the two of them had immediately clicked and their friendship and on screen chemistry shone through the camera.

“Hey Evans, Stan!”

The sound of the producer’s voice caught Chris’s attention;

“Yeah?”

They need you two back at the studio, costume fitting”

“Sure thing”

The sound of the small doorbell that had been fitted on the counter drew your attention from the racks in the back room, calling out for your new arrival that you’d be out in a second. The job you’d applied for in Vancouver had pulled through, and it was your first week. A new show that needed a lot of men’s casual wear, yet things like jeans and jackets needed seams strengthened for fight scenes and pockets added for prop weapons. You were yet to meet the two main stars of the show, the casting having not been fully finalised until just days ago, and everything was hush-hush until it was going to be announced at one of the late summer conventions.

Dumping the armfuls of clothing onto the counter you turned and almost fainted;

“Chris?!”

For a second he looked in shock before he vaulted the counter, and took you into his arms;

“You’re here? You’re really here?”

“You’re the star?! You didn’t tell me!”

You kissed him deeply, before a quiet cough from behind Chris drew your attention, Chris turning;

“Seb, I want you to meet the girl I was telling you about”

The other guy raised an eyebrow;

“You’re THE girl? Wow, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he held his hand out over the counter and you shook it, Chris still holding you in his arms; “I’m Sebastian but everyone calls me Seb”

Looking at the two of them you knew in that moment the show was going to be a hit, and you looked forward to making these two look even better on screen… if that was even possible.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Worthy

One-Shot

Description: What happens when Steve goes to collect the Soul Stone instead of Natasha and Clint?

Warning: Curse words, spoilers for Avengers Endgame

This is for the awesome, caring and super-talented @jtargaryen18 's writing challenge. She eased my mind about the plot. Thank you 😘 Click here to know the rules and participate!

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I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Who was he? Steve Rogers? Or Captain America? Are they both different people? Or are they two sides of the same coin?

Steve wondered as he gazed down the cliff at Vormir, home to the Soul Stone.

When he had first arrived alone on the barren planet, he had been shocked and angry to see Red Skull guarding the infinity stone. To think that he went under the ice all those years ago stood for nothing. To have lost his life, his partner, his best friend and for what? Hydra was still active, the world was still suffering from war and now Red Skull was still alive, floating in space.

But as he understood Red Skull's predicament, Steve realised that while he himself was a man out of time, Red Skull was stuck here in his miserable existence till the end of time, out of place, out of touch. That brought him some satisfaction.

He was glad they had decided to send Natasha and Clint with Tony, Bruce and Scott to 2012. There was just too much ground to cover with 3 infinity stones in the same city. It made sense to have more eyes on the ground.

There was no way Steve would sacrifice anybody from his team for the stone. They had lost too many lives already. And if they were successful, then they would need all hands on deck to manage the chaos that would follow once everybody was brought back.

Steve sat on a rock and pulled out his compass. He sighed as he saw Peggy, "What do you think Peg?" he murmured, lightly running his thumb over the photograph.

After a few minutes, he clicked a button on the rim and the compass flipped open, revealing the hidden compartment beneath. He pulled out a folded piece of paper from within. It was as old and worn-out as Peggy's photograph. He closed the compass and looked at the other image. A black and white Bucky laughed back at him while at his side, a thin, scrawny Steve was looking scornfully at the camera, his face bruised. Steve chuckled as he remembered the day this photograph was taken. He had gotten into another one of his infamous back-alley fights. Some drunken idiot had punched Bucky because he had been flaunting his Sergeant's uniform at the bar amongst the ladies. While Bucky could have easily mopped the floor with the guy, Steve had decided to step in and push the drunken idiot. Then, as it always happened, Steve was dragged into the back-alley to be turned into a punching bag, with Bucky finally saving his skinny ass.

This photograph was taken later that night, with Bucky laughing at the whole incident.

The cold Vormir wind brought Steve back to the present. Ever since he could remember, he wanted to do the right thing, save the innocent people and just help those who needed it the most.

While the asthmatic 90-pound Steve Rogers couldn't do that, the 240-pound Captain America was able to do that and much more.

That's why he loved being Captain America. He could finally do what he had always wanted to do. It didn't matter whether the Government labelled him as a criminal or whether the press questioned his every move. He was able to help people, change lives for the better and protect the little guy. Isn't that what mattered?

He opened the compass again. Looking at both the photographs, he whispered, "Thank you."

He picked up his shield and faced the cliff.

"What are you doing?" asked Red Skull, as if guessing his next move, "How do you know this will work? You are Captain America," he declared.

Steve looked at him, his mouth turned into a smirk, "How would I know? I am just a kid from Brooklyn," and with that, Captain America jumped into the abyss below.

…

Steve's entire body was shivering with cold as he lay in the water. With his teeth clattering, he barely managed to sit upright. He started breathing rapidly as he took in his surroundings. He was still on Vormir. As he tried to get up, he realised two things. One, he was completely naked except for his time travel bracelet and vibranium shield, and two, he was holding something in his right hand. He opened his palm to look at the yellow Soul Stone. Almost laughing in relief, Steve looked down at himself. He saw he had the same scrawny body as the Steve in the old photograph. Shivering further with cold, he pressed a few buttons on his bracelet.

…

One by one as the Avengers returned to the compound, they looked around excitedly at their peers, relieved to find them safe. Steve was the last one to return. His knees buckled as soon as he landed. Hiding his naked bony body behind the shield, he threw up on the floor, his body not able to handle the stress of the quantum time-travel.

"Oh my God who is that?!" Scott exclaimed as Tony, Natasha and Clint stepped tentatively towards Steve. As his body convulsed with pain, he held up the stone towards them. The second Nat took the stone, Steve collapsed.

…

Steve woke up two days later on a hospital bed.

"We are trying our best to keep your bodily functions from collapsing onto themselves. You should be thankful that we have medicines to treat most of your ailments. What were you thinking?" Tony spat with frustration.

Steve saw large swollen bags under Tony's red eyes. Steve was willing to bet that Tony hadn't slept ever since his return. He smiled, "It had to be done Tony," said Steve, his voice flat, having lost its 'Captain America depthness'.

"What happened on Vormir?" asked Natasha gently. Steve tried to sit, "The stone demanded a sacrifice. A soul for the soul stone. So I sacrificed him."

"Yeah and left us without a leader. What are we supposed to do now? You are meant to rally the troops. You are meant to lead. How do you think you will do that if you need an asthma inhaler every time you try to take a walk around the compound?" Tony voiced his concerns. "Tony, calm down. Shhh now," Thor said from his chair.

"You look like you need a sandwich," Rocket commented, seated besides Thor.

"Your vitals look good Cap... ahem I-I mean Steve," Bruce flustered while checking Steve's reports.

"Captain America was never about one person. It is about what the title stands for; Bravery to face any challenge, Courage to stand up against the greatest powers for the right reason and Having a clear sense of duty, of what's right and wrong. Captain America can be anyone," Steve said, pointedly staring at Natasha.

He turned to look at the shield placed by his bedside table. Carefully, he picked it up with a bit of struggle and held it out for her.

"I can't think of a better person to lead us," Steve said decidedly. Wide-eyed, Natasha looked at him with bewilderment. "No Steve. I am a spy. I am not a soldier. I cannot be trusted with…"

"You are not a spy. Not anymore. You have been leading the Avengers not just on earth, but across the galaxy, especially when most of us had given up. You are right though. You are not a soldier. You are a leader, Captain."

Natasha looked at Steve, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice almost breaking "I have too much red on my ledger Steve."

"You wiped that ledger when you joined the Avengers Nat. You deserve this," Clint supported her.

As Natasha took the shield and tried it on, Tony asked her, "We will have to render your suit. Do you want black with Red, White and Blue?" Natasha nodded. As Tony left, Natasha mouthed the words, "Thank you," towards Steve as he brushed it off.

"Have we brought everybody back yet?" Steve asked.

"No. We are just finishing the gauntlet. It should be ready by tomorrow," Banner said.

Clint looked at Natasha proudly. "We have a female Captain America now."

"No," Steve said. He grinned at Natasha, "We have a Captain America now."

…

2014 Nebula kept her attention at Antman near the Quantum Time Machine. In the last two days there had been a lot of activity in the compound thanks to Steve's return. It would have served as a good distraction, but unfortunately, there were people working around the time machine. She was itching to bring her father and his army to this future. However, for that, she would need to have patience. A lot of patience. They were planning to undo the snap tomorrow, that's when she planned to strike. She cannot afford to fail her father. She must not.

…

"All the best guys," said Steve as he sat in the car, ready to leave the compound. There was going to be a tremendous blast of gamma radiation from the snap. Steve understood that he might not survive the blast and instead, had offered to bring falafels from the nearby restaurant for lunch.

He reached the modest Middle Eastern eatery. Only two tables were occupied when he placed his large order to go. The server looked at him in suspicion. He doubted whether Steve would be able to carry all the packages by himself. Still, he shrugged, large orders such as these were a boon in the post-snap world.

After 5 minutes, the restaurant shook with a wave of energy blast. Steve fell down from his chair with the impact. As he got up, brushing himself off, he saw black dust materialising in front of him. He looked on as the dust came together to form a person, a man. Steve noticed this happening all around the restaurant. Within a span of a few minutes, the entire restaurant was filled to capacity, with more people appearing on the sidewalk.

He heard terrified screams of people around him. Then guns were fired into the air. Steve turned, trying to determine the source of the violence, when he felt the ground shake.

"EARTHQUAKE!" someone screamed and they all tried to take cover, mostly bumping into one another. There was a loud deafening sound of a missile exploding, then another 4-5 such sounds in rapid succession as the ground shook relentlessly with the impact of the missiles.

Shit, Steve thought. Who would be attacking them now?

A few moments later, when everything went quiet, Steve stepped out of the restaurant and looked in the direction of the Avengers Compound. He could see dark smoke rising into the sky, with a huge spaceship eclipsing the sun. Thanos.

Without a second thought, Steve entered the car. "F.R.I.D.A.Y," he commanded, "Take me to the compound right now." "There has been an attack Mr Rogers, I am not sure if…" the AI tried to reason with him, but Steve interrupted, "Now!" "Yes Mr Rogers," she said in resignation.

…

He reached as close to the compound as the car could take him. The debris of the buildings and the gaping holes in the ground preventing the car from going any further. Steve stepped down, and started making his way to the centre of the ground.

As he used his asthma inhaler, he realised Tony was right. If he couldn't even walk this much without needing his inhaler, how can he help them?

When Steve reached the centre, his heart broke at the scene before him. Tony was lying on the ground having sustained multiple injuries. Natasha was trying to get up, her arms and legs badly cut. Thor was fighting with Thanos, but it seemed that was a losing battle as well. Steve couldn't just give up. He never had.

Looking around him at the ground, he saw a big piece of concrete. Lifting it, he tried to throw out with all his strength, but the concrete didn't even fall within 10 yards of Thanos. His eyes then went to Thor's Mjolnir on the ground. He still had to try right?

He rushed towards the hammer and pulled on its handle, Mjolnir feeling surprisingly light in his hands. He aimed and swung for the ugly purple head. With Mjolnir hitting the mark, the hammer dutifully came back to Steve.

"I KNEW IT!" exclaimed Thor, his reaction earning him a kick from Thanos.

Thanos's surprise was short-lived. He charged towards the little guy. Steve threw the hammer again but Thanos easily deflected it with his double-edged sword.

Before he could reach Steve, Natasha attacked Thanos, diverting his attention. "F.R.I.D.A.Y," she screamed, "get Steve a sandwich."

This isn't the time for a joke, Steve thought as he summoned the hammer and threw it at Thanos again.

Thanos threw Natasha to the ground and headed for Steve. A back-handed smack sent Steve flying in the air. He wouldn't have survived the fall, if it hadn't been for the S.A.N.D.W.H.I.C.H.H- an iron-man suit in the darkest shade of blue. The suit wrapped itself around Steve as it broke his fall. "Welcome Mr Rogers," greeted F.R.I.D.A.Y, "Do you like your new suit? It stands for

S - Steve

A - Always

N - Needs

D - Dangerous

W - Weapons

I - In-order-to

C - Cover

H - His

H - Homies"

Steve was still panting from the impact of the smack as he lay on the ground in the suit. "Not one of Tony's best acronyms," he managed to say between breaths. "Yeah," agreed the AI, "but he only put this together last night."

Steve struggled to get up again. He heard Thanos mumble something, but he couldn't care less. He stumbled in the new suit, barely being able to walk towards the giant alien, but still, willing to fight till his last breath. Just then, the microphone in his suit crackled a bit, "C-Cap, you ther--re?" He heard Sam's voice…

…

Steve couldn't believe it. The entire universe had come to fight with Thanos. He looked at humans and aliens alike, pissed off and ready to face the biggest threat to the universe. He managed to make it to the front of the line besides Thor, summoning the Mjolnir.

Natasha smiled at the army behind her, then turned to look at Thanos with a deadly stare.

She raised her shield as she called out to the warriors, her voice bellowing on the battlefield, "AVENGERS, ASSEMBLE!"

#steve rogers #captain america #avengers #Natasha #black widow #Hulk #hawk eye #iron man #rocket #Thor #infinity stones #soul stone #tony stark #bruce banner #avengers assemble #30daysofchris2020 #30 days of chris 2020

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