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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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BUBBLES!!!!! Hello my sweet little friend <3 I'm back with a nice little headcanon but before, I just wanted to say that it makes me very very happy you enjoy receiving these headcanons because it's an absolute pleasure to send them also you're really really cool and you're a killer writer so it's really an honor

anywayyyys today we're gonna talk hair because I mentioned it once but I have a weird thing with hair (and by weird thing I mean I'm obsessed with people touching my hair/touching other people's hair)

Ellie

There is something so inherently loving and nurturing whenever Ellie lets you do her hair. It's not anything fancy, just a simple braid or whenever she wants to cut it and you brush it for her. You take the time to brush her hair, gently, never hurting her in any way. It's often a peaceful moment where she tells you about her day or simply enjoys your presence. It might not be a universal thing, maybe it was just me but some of the things I miss the most from when I was a child were the mornings my mom or my grandma would do my hair. And I feel like Ellie, growing up alone and all that, would discover those small, simple moments and cherish them because yes, to any other kids it's normal but to her, all kinds of affectionate gestures are very new, she's really discovering what it means to be loved by someone else so...genuinely. She also loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through her hair, whether it's in the morning when you wake her up or at night when you're all cuddling on the couch. She always ends up with her head on your lap or against your shoulder and your hand naturally finds its way to her soft locks. Most of the time, it's enough to put her to sleep which makes you chuckles.

Joel

He's very similar in that aspect. Joel absolutely loves whenever you play with his hair. It started randomly, one night you're on the couch and for some reason Joel lets his head rest on your lap. He's had a long day, he's tired and about to fall asleep when you just start playing with his hair. There's no reason for you to do that, he's just lying so close to you and the salt and pepper curls look so silky you can't help yourself. The feeling of your fingers threading through his hair is quite indescribable, it's just nice and it makes the deep frown on his forehead ease. He almost can't believe he lived so long without knowing that gentle tingle of your nails scratching his scalp. It's such a nice feeling he probably hums in contentment (which, by the way, kind of sounds like a cat purring) and you discover how much your man enjoys you playing with his hair. After a while, he ends up falling asleep and you stop your movements just for him to groan and put your hand back where it was. Since that night, Joel always joins Ellie and you on the couch. You sit in the middle and they fight for who gets to cuddle with you...But of course, there is enough space for both of them so you shush them and they both get their beloved head scratches.

Now, as much as he loves it when you play with his hair, he doesn't hesitate to return the favor and you quickly discover that Joel has some skills. It all began one fateful winter. You went ice-skating and of course, you fell and injured yourself. It's nothing dramatic but you will have to wear a cast for the next few weeks. Obviously, Joel is insanely worried and you're forbidden from doing any kind of effort including basic stuff like getting dressed...or styling your hair. You really want to, you start getting ready for bed at night but Joel arrives in the room and he's outraged. How dare you move the slightest muscle when you should be resting ?!!??!!? You try to explain to him that you have to get ready for bed, etc...but he's having none of it. Instead he drops whatever he was doing at the moment and helps you take off your clothes, shower and put on a warm pair of pyjamas (your favorite shirt of his <3). But there is one part of your night routine that he seems to have forgotten. You always brush your hair before bed and then put it in a braid so it doesn't get knots in the morning. You insist on not missing that because yeah, your hair will be in an awful state if you don't brush it. So Joel sits you down on the bed, grabs your brush and gently starts untangling your hair. He's so gentle you can't believe some people are actually scared of him. But it's not over. No. He gives you back the brush and quietly, separates your hair in three parts and starts braiding it. You didn't even ask, you didn't have to show him or explain. He did it so naturally and that's when it hit you: it was probably not the first time he had to do that. Because Joel had a little girl once whose hair needed to be braided or styled in some way and being a single dad, all he could do was learn. It was a nighttime ritual with his Sarah: she'd brush her teeth, put on a pair of pajamas and her dad would braid her hair then read her a story. When she was old enough, she'd practice her reading with him and read to him while he was busy with her hair. And even as a teenager, sometimes after a particularly rough day, she'd ask Joel if he could brush her hair before bed. It then becomes a thing while you have your cast. It always ends the same way: he kisses your shoulder when he's done and you thank him before heading to bed. But even after you can use both your hands, he still does it for you. Some nights after coming home from the pub and you're too tired, when you're just lazy or just because he enjoys that quiet moment.

He does it with Ellie, as well. You're away on patrol one morning and Ellie's getting ready for school but her hair is a mess. She wouldn't mind usually but she thought you'd be here to fix it, instead, there's only Joel. So he does it for her. She's impressed—so impressed she almost doesn't mess with him— and she goes to school with a big smile on her face and a strange feeling in her chest. That same warmth she feels when she's half asleep and Joel still goes to her and kisses her forehead because he didn't see her that night or when she comes home from school with a good grade and he tells her he's proud of her. And Joel always holds these little moments close to his chest. He had that once and no matter how much he cherished it, he lost it so he tries to cherish it even more now. Revel in every single instant. Because he is loved and has a chance to love again, he won't lose it this time <3

Okayyyyyyy kinda long (but you're used to it) and kinda went off the rails (but you're used to that too lol) BUT I hope you enjoyed, I hope I could brighten your day a little and maybe make you smile. And btw how was your day? Are you still feeling sick?

I love you very very much little bubble <3

-🪷

Okay okay okay... I've written this hair concept for him as well but this.

Playing on the whole Joel braiding hair thing. I do agree that he had taken it upon himself to learn how to braid and tend to the hair when Sarah was born. Even before his wife left him. Jole was set on learning how to braid. He knew that some might view this as unmanly but he needed to find that extra bonding aspect with his baby girl. If all they would have would be early mornings when he would be getting her ready for kindergarten or school.

And when he's left there all by himself it becomes one of his favorite things. I feel like after a long day he would be hoping that Sarah wouldn't have gone through her whole bedtime routine. Because he finds it so therapeutic. After all the busy chaos of the day, it's just him and his girl by the little vanity. A light conversation flowing. Or maybe a complete silence.

So I feel like after Sarah's death it would be hard for Joel to tend to someone's hair. I just think it would bring back so many memories. Them listening to music together, Sarah laughing at Joel while he stood there with a bow between his teeth. It would be so precious and so painful. So for a while, he would not get close to anyone's hair.

Then you would come around and then slowly Joel would get used to you touching his hair. Then slowly he would find himself reaching for your hair. Running his fingers through it. Trying to separate his past from the present.

But I think the most important interaction would be with Ellie. She is not as girly as Sarah. Most days she doesn't care how she looks. Never does she ask for any of you to do her hair. She's not used to it. It never seems necessary for her. But then one day she is supposed to go out with Dina. And she's rushing around her room and Joel hears her mumbling to herself in frustration.

So he knocks gently waiting for Ellie to give him a green light to walk in. And when he does the room is a mess. Clothes and things everywhere. Ellie is standing before the mirror. Brush stuck in her hair. Eyes glossy. Joel gives her a sympathetic look. "It's code red you need to get Y/N", she mutters pulling at the brush. Joel carefully nudges Ellie's hand away, moving to detangle her hair.

"You know I used to do Sarah's hair", he admits after he's almost done brushing out the knots. "What were you trying to do?", Joel places his hands on Ellie's shoulders, meeting her gaze in the mirror. Ellie just look at him for a moment, before moving to reach for a magazine, pointing to a hairstyle she was trying to recreate. Joel only hums in response. Quickly reaching for the brush and an elastic.

It only takes him a couple of minutes to put Ellie's hair in half up half down look. "We're not doing bows are we?", he asks glancing at one of the blue bows but Ellie only shakes her head. She looks at herself for some time before turning to Joel and just wrapping her arms around his torso. Joel smiles down at her, placing a loving kiss on her head, "See, the old man can still be useful".

#come chat with bubbles 🫧#little lily 🪷#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine

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stormyoceansmain · 3 years

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[im very much NOT a writer - i cannot stress this enough - but i truly mean it when i say sambucky is making me go insane. i find no other explanation for ending up writing 3.8k words of sambucky, alpine, and movie night. thank you if you decide to read this, i hope it's not too terrible]

Sam shows up at Bucky’s place for movie night with a case full of beers and ten minutes to spare.

Sarah makes fun of him for this Friday tradition they’ve been carrying out for the past few months, says he should just muster the courage to ask Bucky out on a proper date already. It doesn't matter how many times Sam told her he is just helping Bucky catch up to the 21st century, she always ends up giving him that Look that says she's not believing any words coming out of his mouth, which is kind of unfair, if you ask Sam.

Well, fine, maybe Sarah is right. Maybe Sam does want to take Bucky out on an actual date and hold his hand and kiss him goodnight and do all those sickeningly romantic stuff he used to daydream about when he was 16. Turns out former assassins who are incredibly annoying but also surprisingly kind are very much Sam's type. Go figure.

Still, they worked hard to reach the kind of friendship they currently have, and Sam doesn't want to lose that. He's also not blind to the way Bucky flirts with Sarah, and despite her insistence that Bucky does it more to rile Sam up than for any real interest in her, he’s not about to risk it all on a whim.

This resolution almost crumbles into dust a moment later, when Bucky opens the door wearing sweatpants and a blue shirt that matches his eyes. He is barefoot and his hair is getting longer, losing the harsh edges of the cut and curling slightly behind his ears. He is still all chiseled jawline and defined muscles, but he looks softer, more comfortable in his own skin, and the easy way he smiles at Sam makes a heavy warmth pool around Sam’s stomach.

“Hey,” Bucky greets him, sliding his metal arm around Sam's shoulders to pull him into a brief hug.

This, too, is something of a novelty. There's always been a sort of intense physicality about Bucky, both in how he carries himself and in how he is always aware of the bodies moving around him, but the casual affection, the playful abandon with which he touches and lets others touch him these days, feels like a wonder. Sam would have never expected it, and he had come to love and hate it at the same time.

“Hey yourself,” Sam greets back, splaying his free hand across Bucky's back, allowing himself to hold him there and breathe him in for a second, a fresh lemony smell coming off his hair, before giving him a quick pat on the shoulder and putting a respectable amount of space between them.

He buries his hands deep into the pocket of his jacket and follows Bucky inside, trying to resist the urge to slide his fingers under the hem of Bucky's shirt and feel the warm skin underneath it.

It's the first time Sam steps into Bucky’s apartment since Bucky took home the stray kitten he found on the side of the road three weeks ago, and the changes around it are staggering. Sam was used to empty spaces and few, essential furniture, but now the space in front of the window is occupied by a giant cat tower, and lots of smaller scratching posts are scattered all over the living room, along with different kinds of cat beds and toys.

“I see you redecorated,” Sam says with a grin.

Bucky shrugs, opening two of the beer bottles with a quick twist of his metal hand. “Cats need stuff.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad.” Sam grabs one of the bottle and clinks it against Bucky's. “Pets are great company and the place looks much better like this. I wouldn't have pinned you down as the crazy cat lady type, but it's always better than Robocop.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his beer. Sam catches the smile he is trying to hide anyway.

Sam knocks their shoulders together, asks, “So where is she?”

“Hiding, probably,” Bucky says, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “She doesn't like strangers.”

Sam stops with the beer halfway to his mouth. “Excuse you,” he exclaims, outraged. “I very clearly remember accompanying you to the vet the first time you brought her in. I also sacrificed two of my shirts for her and have scars on my forearms where she scratched me to death. I think I deserve more than being considered a stranger. We basically co-parented that cat for the first few days!”

“That's nice,” Bucky deadpans. “Why don't you go tell her that? I'm sure the speech will convince her to keep the claws to herself.”

Sam glares at him and Bucky pats him on the arm. “Just relax,” he adds, turning to open the fridge and taking foods out for dinner. “If we let her be, Alpine will come out eventually.”

Bucky is right, of course. Sam had a few experiences with strays growing up, cats and dogs alike looking for shelter from Louisiana's storms under their porch, and no amount of treats he and Sarah tried to give them had been able to lure them out from their hiding spot. The best course of action in these cases was to wait, letting them come out when they felt safe enough.

It still weirdly feels like a rejection of some sort, but he tries not to let it show.

Sam takes a swig from his beer and asks, “Alpine?”

Bucky turns on the stove and shrugs again. He remains silent for a moment, a distant look on his face that Sam has learned to associate to memories better buried and forgotten. He is about to start telling Bucky about the science fair at the boys' school to change the subject, when Bucky speaks again, low and careful.

“She reminds me of the snow on the Alps.”

He doesn't elaborate on that, but Sam nods anyway, like he understands. He doesn't, like Bucky will never be able to fully understand what it means for Sam to carry the shield, but it's okay. They have each other, and that's still something.

Sam taps his foot against Bucky's bare one, watches Bucky's entire being exhale and relax. “Couldn't you have named her Snowflakes or something like that?”

Bucky levels him with a stare that tells him he would rather jump off another plane rather than calling his cat ‘Snowflakes’, and Sam laughs.

The far off look in Bucky’s eyes melts away and they fall into an easy rhythm, Sam sitting at the kitchen table and talking about some renovations he and Sarah would like to do to the house, Bucky cutting the vegetables to sauté.

They have moved on to argue about the best way to season chicken breasts – you cannot leave cayenne pepper out of the spice blend – when Sam catches a flash of white out of the corner of his eyes, and interrupts himself mid-rant.

A second later, Alpine jumps on the kitchen counter, sniffing the air.

It's been only three weeks since Sam last saw her, but she's already grown a lot, and looks much better too: her fur is shiny and clean, her eyes bright, and the slight sprain that caused her to limp around seems to be completely healed.

Alpine lets out a soft chirping sound and headbutts Bucky's arm, rubbing her head against him.

The smile Bucky turns to her is blinding, and Sam has to look away before he ends up doing something stupid, like climb over the table and kiss him.

“I know you're here for the chicken,” Bucky tells her, scratching her behind the ears. “But you can't eat this one.”

He scoops her up with a single hand, ignoring the disapproving meow that follows, and deposits her on the table right next to Sam's arm. Sam freezes, unprepared for the sudden proximity and recalling how quickly she can turn around and scratch, but as soon as Bucky's hand retreats, she is moving away, giving Sam a wide berth. She doesn't go back into hiding, though, just settles on the corner farther away from him and stares him down in a way that reminds him so much of Bucky, Sam doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry.

He is also struck by the sudden need to make Alpine like him.

“Is she gonna maul me if I try to give her a treat?” Sam asks.

Bucky tilts his head, considering, which does very little to reassure Sam about the safety of his fingers.

“I wouldn’t try hand-feeding her,” Bucky answers, fishing out a bag of treats from one of the cupboards. “But she likes to chase them.”

Alpine observes with quiet intensity as Bucky dumps a few treats into Sam's hands, and when Sam tosses one a few feet away she jumps down the table and runs after it, grabs it with a paw.

“Alright,” Sam declares, “that's pretty cute.”

Sam spends the next few minutes throwing treats at Alpine, inching them closer and closer to himself to test how willing she is to get near him with the proper incentive. The last one he places right in front of his feet, then he sits back and waits. Alpine hesitates, eyes flitting between him and the treat as to evaluate if it's safe enough, until finally she starts to move, slowly, slowly. She gets close enough to stretch her paw out, pull the treat towards herself and take it out of reach to eat somewhere else. Sam still takes it as a win.

Bucky clears his throat and announces that dinner is ready, so Sam leaves Alpine alone and helps him set the table.

Dinner is nice. Bucky makes a glazed chicken with honey and garlic that it's to die for, which Sam finds utterly unfair, considering he comes from a time where spices were believed to be a menace to the public.

He still goes back for seconds, and by the time they move to the living room to watch the movie, Sam feels full and content.

He finds Alpine curled up on one end of the couch, and while he believes they made some progress in their relationship, he doesn’t think either of them is ready to bring it to the next level, so he takes the seat on the other side, careful not to disturb her.

Bucky doesn’t say anything about it, just flops down between Sam and the cat with ease, his knee bumping into Sam’s.

This week they are watching the second movie in The Hobbit trilogy, if only for the horrified look in Bucky’s face when Sam told him that not only they made a movie out of the book, but that they actually managed to stretch it into three. Bucky, it turns out, is one of those people who notices every little changes from the original material, disapproves of them on principle, and is very vocal about his displeasure, exactly like the old man he actually is.

Sam had almost fell off the couch laughing during the first movie, and it had taken him a while to convince Bucky to give the other two a chance. Maybe it was a little assholey of him, knowing that it only gets worse, but just because he likes the guy it doesn’t mean Sam doesn’t want to subject him to some bad cinema for his own entertainment. After all, that’s what friends are for.

It doesn't take long for the comments to start up again. Bucky holds up for thirty minutes, rolling his eyes and grumbling under his breath from time to time, but then Legolas and Tauriel show up and Bucky turns his head to look at Sam, face completely blank, says, “Who the fuck are these people.”

Sam bursts out laughing, and it only gets worse when they reach the scene between Kili and Tauriel in the Woodland Realm: Bucky throws his hands up, exclaims, “Oh, come on,” and starts complaining about how they made the dwarf hot just to add a romance. It has Sam in stitches, and he has to grab onto Bucky's shoulder to stay upright and not end up falling into Bucky's lap.

The tirade ends with Bucky sulking and shaking his head, and Sam is glad for the temporary reprieve just so he can catch his breath. He feels flushed and warm, cheeks hurting from smiling, and the quiet is comfortable, familiar.

After a while, his eyes grow heavy, and he realizes he nodded off only when a light weight sets on his shoulder, jerking him awake.

The movie has ended, screen back on the Netflix title page, and Bucky fell asleep as well, head drooping until it had come to rest against Sam’s body.

The metal arm is glinting gold and blue in the light, and Sam stares down at it, then up at the lines of Bucky’s face, the soft waves of his hair. It always surprises him how vulnerable Bucky looks like this, how younger, and it’s so hard to remember there was a time Sam had actually been scared of him, of what he could do. Now, he would trust Bucky with anything. His life, his family, his home. His heart, too, if Bucky ever wanted it.

Sam knows he should wake him up, send him to bed so he can sleep comfortably there while Sam stretches out on the couch, but he also knows that Bucky still has trouble sleeping sometimes, and Sam doesn't have the heart to wake him up if it isn't really necessary. He’s well aware it's also a little bit selfish, because it's nice, having Bucky this close, warm and solid and smelling of lemon.

Sam takes a deep breath and rests his head on top of Bucky's. He thought he could handle this thing he has for Bucky, keep it under control, but he’s starting to realize he might have actually underestimated the size of his own feelings, which could become a serious problem in the future.

For now, though, Sam closes his eyes and lets himself have this.

The next time Sam wakes up, it's to something walking all over him. He blinks against the sudden light and when his vision clears, he finds Alpine sitting on his lap.

Sam stares at her, wondering for a moment if he is still asleep and dreaming all of this up, but his neck is sore, his arm heavy from Bucky resting against it in his sleep; there’s the beginning of a headache pulsing behind is eyes, and a pressure in his bladder telling him he should probably get up.

Alpine sniffs at his shirt and Sam tentatively raises his free hand, strokes a finger between her ears. She leans into the touch, head tilting up and guiding Sam's hand under her chin. Sam tries really hard not to shriek with delight.

“Oh, you're a sweetheart,” he says, a grin spreading out across his face. “Just like your owner. All tough and fierce on the outside, but adorable and charming on the inside.”

Alpine meows back at him, like she agrees with that statement, and Sam tenses up, glances at the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest.

“We gotta be quiet,” he tells Alpine, petting her down her side. “We don't want to wake him up.”

“I'm already awake,” comes Bucky's voice next to him.

Sam's entire body jerks in surprise, and Alpine leaps off him, startled.

“Man, don't you do that ever again,” Sam says, a hand placed over his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky hums, sounding way more amused than he has any right to be, and sits up.

Blood rushes back into Sam's arm, and while Sam is glad to start feeling it again, he's already mourning the loss of contact between them. Except Bucky doesn't go far, just adjusts his position to angle his body towards Sam and rest his head on the back of the couch. It's easier to look at each other, like this, but they are now so close that Bucky's soft breaths are hitting the exposed line of skin above Sam's shirt, the hollow of his neck, making him shiver.

“So,” Bucky says, dragging the word out, lips tilting up at the corner. “I'm adorable and charming?”

Shit.

Of course Bucky would hear that, that's just Sam's luck. God, he is never going to speak again. He will take a vow of silence like in one of those monastic orders and move some place far and secluded where he won't be able to embarrass himself anymore.

He swallows, makes himself let out a laugh. It's meant to be mocking, but it sounds more nervous than anything else. “I think old age is making you hear things,” Sam still tries to deflect, “I clearly said annoying and self-centered.”

Bucky jabs him in the side with a metal finger. “Nice try, Samuel,” Bucky says, grinning widely. “But I've been told I'm a sweetheart.”

Sam's cheeks heat up. “I was talking about Alpine!”

He wonders if maybe T'Challa would let him hide in Wakanda for a while, just long enough for Sam to regain some kind of dignity. He hopes against all hopes that Bucky will have mercy of him and drop the subject, but of course Bucky doesn't. Sam wouldn't either, if their roles were switched.

“You said she is like her owner,” Bucky points pout, eyes bright and so very blue. He pokes Sam in the ribs again. “Which means, you think I’m a sweetheart, too.”

Sam bats his hand away. He may have embarrassed himself and he's lucky if he ends up this night without Bucky realizing Sam has feelings for him, but he is Captain frigging America. If he has to go down, he will go down fighting.

“What you are, it’s a nuisance,” Sam says. “And a creep. Who the hell pretends to be asleep when they are actually awake?”

“I wasn't pretending, you just assumed I was still sleeping.”

“Anyone would assume that, if you don't say anything.”

“I thought you were going to move as soon as you woke up, it's not my fault you didn't.”

“I was trapped between your heavy ass and your cat. What's your excuse for not moving?”

The argument comes to a halt, an awkward silence stretching between them as Bucky lowers his eyes, scratches the back of his neck. He clears his throat, shrugs.

“Your shoulder is nice,” he says in the end.

It's Bucky's turn to blush, a darker pink dusting his cheeks, and Sam feels like he missed something important.

“My shoulder?” Sam repeats.

Bucky doesn't answer him for a moment, then he straightens up on the couch, rolls back his shoulders like he is bracing himself. He looks up at Sam, and all Sam can see are his eyes.

“It’s comfortable,” Bucky whispers. “And I always sleep better when you’re around.”

Sam's mouth is suddenly very dry, and his heart is drumming against his chest in a way he has come to associate with diving down in midair, or dropping from a high place before his wings open up. This, too, feels a little like falling.

“Buck,” Sam says, because he thinks they are on the verge of something here, but he needs to be sure, doesn't want to mess this up and do something he's going to regret just because his head wants so desperately to see what's not actually there. “You gotta tell me if I'm reading this wro--”

Bucky kisses him.

It's a short kiss, just a soft press of Bucky's lips against his own and he's already gone, moving back to look at Sam with wide eyes, face open and vulnerable.

“Okay?” Bucky asks, and if he didn't sound so uncertain, like he's expecting Sam to push him away at any moment, Sam would laugh at how much of an idiot they both are.

Instead, he holds Bucky's chin between his fingers and pulls him back in. The kiss is deeper this time, turns into a wet slide of tongues and a harsh grate of stubble that makes Sam's insides feel tangled and hot. Bucky's arm slides around Sam's waist, and Sam moves his hand from Bucky's chin into his hair, grips it in a way that makes Bucky exhale sharply into his mouth. Sam wants to touch him everywhere, and he moves his free hand to do just that when a long, loud meow interrupts them.

They break apart just in time for Alpine to jump on the couch and sprawl in the space between them.

Bucky huffs out a small laugh, pets her from head to tail. He looks lovely, with his hair sticking up in odd places from Sam's fingers raking through it, his lips red from kissing, and Sam itches to go back for more, to lay him down and map every single part of Bucky's body with his mouth. He has, however, a horrible feeling about this.

“We will never be able to do anything with her around, won't we?” Sam asks, voicing his thoughts out loud.

Bucky sends him an amused smile. “Someone feels confident.”

Sam rolls his eyes, bumps their knees together. “Says the one who was about to climb on top of me.”

He's pretty sure he was the one grabbing and pulling Bucky closer, actually, but it doesn't seem like Bucky is going to call him out on it.

“It was a good kiss,” Bucky says, smile going soft at the edges, turning shyer.

“It really was,” Sam agrees, and because Sarah is always right, even if he'll never admit it in front of her, he adds, “Wanna go out on a proper dinner, see a movie? Maybe do the kissing part again?”

He's not expecting the way Bucky's lips drop down at those words, and Sam's heart sinks. Maybe he did read this wrong, after all. Maybe Bucky wanted to keep things casual, no string attached, and Sam just ruined everything. He tries to tell himself it was better to know that now, before things got too serious on his side, but it gives him very little comfort.

Bucky takes a deep breath, lets it out in a huff. “I don’t know, man,” he says. “If you make me watch another one of these godawful movies I’m afraid I'm gonna have to break up with you before this relationship even starts.”

Sam blinks at him, then bursts out laughing, sudden and loud. “God, you're an asshole,” he declares, but there's no heat behind it, and when he searches for Bucky's hand, Bucky intertwines their fingers together, places a kiss on the back of Sam's hand as an apology.

“I’m lucky you have terrible tastes, then,” Bucky says.

Sam really has questionable tastes, and if you had told him a few years ago that this was how his life was going to turn out, he would have probably laughed, or worse, tried to stop it from happening. But now, sitting there with Bucky grinning at him and Alpine purring between them, he feels lucky too.

#i don't have a solid enough grasp on the english language for any of this and yet here we are #you can easily spot where i didn't know what the hell i was doing #when i say im literally losing my mind over these two..#most self indulgent thing i've ever done im sorry for subjecting you to it #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #alpine #also - embarrassingly enough - i started to write this before the video of bucky saying he wanted to move in with sam #otherwise i would have made them roommate

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imgoingtocrash · 3 years

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Made of Iron, Born of Fire: The Fanmix

by @imgoingtocrash

Listen on Spotify and 8tracks

Read the series on Ao3

AKA: A labor of love for @savvysass’s birthday!!!!

What can I say that hasn’t already been said because we’re both incredibly sappy people in our Author’s Notes? Writing this series with you has brought me so much joy in the last two years, and I never could have hit over 100k words without you. Here’s to whatever we write next in the series...and all of the WIPs we’re working on right now...and only god knows what’s next for us personally and professionally...and most importantly, to you on your Birthday. Thank you for being such a good friend, in both fandom and outside of it. I’m so, so thankful to know you and love you. 🥰

Director’s Cut Below, because we all know I love talking about this series, and yes, that does extend to why I picked these songs. (And also maybe because these song choices only make sense in my brain and hopefully Savannah’s?? Who knows! Feel free to ask questions if you want but let’s be honest this series and fanmix are most importantly for us, because we love the series so dang much.)

My Wildest Dreams by Ron Pope

I spoke in riddles and in rhymes, but my time with you has taught me to simplify, you’re not quite what I pictured you would be, you’re better than my wildest dreams.

We’ve talked about this one before, and I’LL TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN!!!! Ron Pope is so good imo, and this song wowowow the father-child feels, but especially with Tony and newborn Peter a la A Foreign Feeling and A First Time For Everything.

Big & Scared by Raleigh Ritchie

I want to be better for you, let me do that now, you’re my favorite human, so you should be prepared, I’ll help you get through it, when you’re big and scared

We’ve mentioned Tony’s thoughts about legacy multiple times by now, and I think this song really represents Tony looking forward to the person Peter could be become and that “breaking the cycle” mentality of supporting Peter even when he’s not a perfect father.

Legacy of Sadness by Ron Pope

irrational as it may seem I guess I’m sorry, even though I know that none of it’s my fault, it is easier for me to count my blessings, than to cry for every single thing we’ve lost

I have 0 shame putting these two songs by Ron Pope almost back to back because they’re the opening and closing of an album dedicated to his child like...it’s so perfect for Tony and this theme of reflection on who he is and who Peter will become/is becoming and all that entails.

this is me trying by Taylor Swift

They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential, and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that

I wrote something...very sad but also soft recently??? and this is for That it’s about pre-CW Pepperony being separated and the road to them trying to come back together including Tony working on himself and I love it!!! It hurts really good!!! This whole song is perfect for it and I can’t wait until people get to read it.

Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong

I'm sorry I can't stop to listen, but I've got so much to do and I've got some place to be, the house looks like the aftermath of a hurricane, I hope it stays that way

Tony being a busy parent but doing his best to make time for Peter in his life and making that time count has been something super important to illustrate to us, especially the transition from being a CEO to being a superhero and how that changes how Peter sees Tony’s absence over time.

I Won’t Back Down by Johnnyswim, Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, and Penny and Sparrow

Tony puts on the original version by Tom Petty in Home Is Where The Heart Is, but I think this cover has a very slow, emotional undertone that’s really great too. The interludes, if you didn’t catch it, have all been featured in a fic previously.

Let It Matter by Johnnyswim

So if it matters let it matter, if your heart's breaking let it ache, catch those pieces as they scatter, know your hurt is not in vain

Pepper in Never Tell Me The Odds ALL DAYYYYY. She’s the emotional rock of that fic (and of our Ironfam TBH) and it’s all because she allows herself to feel her feelings and encourages the Stark boys to do so as well.

Simmer - Acoustic by Hayley Williams

And if my child, needed protection, from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him, cause nothing cuts like a mother

Post-Home Is Where The Heart Is...y’all know Pepper’s not that mad about what happened to Obie. Also just Pepper when someone hurts her family?? I always write it as her sort of putting all of her emotion into something she can control and doing it well, so, this song is all about that.

Tightrope by Nia Hendricks

one step after another, keep holding on to each other, don’t look back, move on and let go, that’s how you walk on a tightrope

Pepperony trying to navigate their relationship and the insanity of superhero stuff and also co-parenting. It’s all excellent, I love them so much, I enjoy writing it so much!!!!

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

Never got the chance, to say a last goodbye, I gotta move on, but it hurts to try, how do I love, how do I love again?

This song is tilted towards romance, but if you’ll remember, we’re a Pro-Tony Survives Endgame AU series, so it’s not about THAT...but well...Infinity War sure will hit something fierce for certain non-romantic relationships in this series, huh?

The Bones by Maren Morris

Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I, can't even mess it up, although we both try, no, it don't always go the way we planned it, but the wolves came and went and we're still standing

Post-Endgame Ironfam!!! Tony and Pepper married with their kids, their family and HAPPY...THIS IS WHY WE DO ALL OF THE ANGST...FOR A FAMILY...WE LOVE THEM

Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas

Considered Pepper and Peter’s ‘song’, as it’s referenced multiple times in the series, and was one of the bigger solidifying moments of their mother-son relationship as a whole.

Mundane by Hardcastle

And I’ve been sinking into silence, dwelling on my thoughts, and in these months, I haven’t felt that most conversations have left me anything but blue

Peter’s selective mutism was something very special to us when we originally had the idea, and making sure we talk about it and utilize it in the right way is something we’re still working on, particularly with the Therapy Fic we’re brainstorming atm.

survivin’ (One Eyed Jack’s Session) by Bastille

What can I say? I'm survivin', crawling out these sheets to see another day, what can I say? I'm survivin', and I'm gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine, I think I'll be fine

Spoiler Alert: Peter’s not fine, like, a decent amount of the time. But he’s sure trying, and we love him for that.

Jacob from the Bible by Jake Wesley Rogers

Mama, don't worry, it took me years, to say I'm sorry, to see your tears, Mama, forgive me, I grew up too fast, but it's not on you, it's in the past

Mostly part of Peter growing up to become a hero and realizing what his parents--particularly Pepper--have gone through for him to become the person he is today, but that sometimes he still doesn’t feel like he’s making them proud enough.

Compassion Is a German Word by To Kill A King

Don't be so arrogant, you ain't no different to anyone I've met, we're all the heroes in our own film, or maybe the villain in someone else's

Spider-Man being an excellent superhero boi!!! Being kind and good!!! We love it!! Also, I put a TKAK song on...a LOT of my playlists, because I think they’re great.

brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

And I'm so sick of seventeen, where's my fucking teenage dream?, if someone tells me one more time, "Enjoy your youth", I'm gonna cry

I mean...this song is such a Teenage Mood...I had to do it...

In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning by Frank Sinatra

So, I had this cute little scene in my head that went with this song for SO LONG but there wasn’t really anything for it to fit into so...yeah that’s part 2 of Savannah’s Birthday Gift, a little soft Baby Peter drabble. Fluffy Goop from top to bottom. That can be read here.

Home by Phillip Phillips

Just know you're not alone, 'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

...I know it’s not original, okay? It’s found family, it’s great, I don’t care!

Comes and Goes (In Waves) by Greg Laswell

And this part was for her, and this part was for her, this part was for her, does she remember?

This song is good family angst in general BUT these specific lyrics made me think of Mary and that they never forget her in their lives despite the other stuff going on (because we refuse to let them).

I Have Made Mistakes by The Oh Hellos

I have made mistakes, I continue to make them, the promises I've made, I continue to break them, and all the doubts I've faced, I continue to face them, but nothing is a waste if you learn from it

No one in the Ironfam is perfect, but they all do their best to try and grow even when they’re scared they’ll never be able to. The ups and downs are all par for the course of this series to us.

Easy Days - Demo by Bastille

Cause I don’t wanna fall back again, back into the easy days, everything was so simple then, little fires burned away

Strife is a part of life, and the family in this fic growing through their loss and struggles and moving ahead as a unit to get to a better place is super central to making the fic what it is...but it’s easy for them to remember the old days before being superheroes and wishing it was simple again.

North by Sleeping At Last

Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind, let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide, settle our bones like wood over time, over time, give us bread, give us salt, give us wine

The way Tony went from feeling so alone to having an entire built family that’s so full of love and everything he never dreamed of...*screams into my pillow* I love this series so much thank you and good night!!!

#made of iron born of fire #irondad #ironfam #fanmix #savvysass #this series just makes me burst with content i can't describe it #also doing the graphics was a fun experiment!!!#mine #mine: marvel

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chronicowboy · 5 years

Text

Carol Danvers did not expect to get attached to another snarky on the outside but soft on the inside man when she returned to earth. She was simply told that a person, immeasurable in his importance and loved more than he knew, was stranded in space. There was no hesitation in her actions, she marched outside and launched herself into the atmosphere; something she'd done a thousand times but this one felt different. It didn't take all that long for her to find the ship, a man wasting away in the cockpit. For a terrible, agonising moment she thought she was too late, but his eyes — they didn't flutter, no, that's far too delicate a word for what they did — opened with immense force and she breathed a sigh of relief before pushing the ship back home. It was a strange feeling that hung in the air when she laid the ship down. Anxiety, love, curiosity, anger, sadness, regret and comfort combined in a concoction of suffocating agony. The man, Tony Stark, exited the ship and immediately everyone rushed to his aid.

It was hours before Carol felt it appropriate to check on him. What she didn't know was with one simple step into the room and question of his state she'd find a new friend. Pepper, his wife she'd found out, and James, his best friend, had dozed off after he'd finally woken up. A telling off of her fellow captain even without knowing the history behind it was very satisfying, but exhausting for the man who was dying just moments before. He had woken up a while ago and sent his closest loved ones to slumber safe in the knowledge that their Tony was back home, tiring jokes and all. She poked her head in, waving a hand.

"Hey, Carol, is it?" He asked in a stage whisper. She nodded, closing the door softly behind her. "Thanks for saving me and all. Big fan of that whole photon glow thing you have going on-"

"You don't have to do that." She muttered, knowing exactly what he was trying to; she knew it like the back of her hand. "Look, I'm not gonna ask how you are because I know you'll just say you're fine in the form of some snarky comment-"

"So you're me, if I was blonde, female and an alien?" The sincerity in her tone made him uneasy just as all captains did.

"I'm of the human disposition, unfortunately. Survived a blast from the tesseract, absorbed its energy and here we are." An odd sense of pride settled in her heart when he smirked. "I don't know what went on with you guys," she gestured to the captain pacing outside with Natasha, "but I want you to know that I don't give a shit. That rant, that was fucking satisfying as anything. And I know he deserved it." She settled into the empty seat beside Pepper as he chuckled. "I've seen the tapes. Of you fighting," and Tony was struck with the terrible feeling that he was going to be made to question his morals. "You're a good man. You fight for what's right, anyway you can, but you still take more precautions than the rest of them to preserve civilian lives. I think we'll get along just fine." They sat there until the morning, getting to know each other. Carol heard countless stories of Peter Parker, the brave kid from Queens, and his far too loyal for her own good wife whilst Tony heard about the ever-aging family she can never manage to say goodbye to when she leaves and tales about a young, two-eyed Nick Fury. When she left in the morning, a bond had already been formed.

Over the course of a very long half-decade where the skies were embedded with a thick pall of ash that was formerly living loving things, Carol dropped by every now and then. Her holographic meetings with Natasha, a woman she'd grown quite fond of, were nice but that was the only contact she had with earth. Her days spent on the planet were reserved for one small, broken family. Catch ups with the Starks. Baby Morgan, who got older each time and Carol didn't like it, staring in awe at the glowing lady. Pepper, who's smile lit up the room, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tony, who still mourned the loss of his mentee, bringing her into bone crushing hugs that got ever so slightly weaker each time.

When he died, Carol was lost. She had Maria and Monica and Nick back, but at the cost of Tony's life. It was all tainted, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with the man. She didn't get to see Peter Parker at the funeral, only met him once in the midst of their war. He was a kind boy with a strength almost equal to her own. She instantly found herself vowing to protect him at all costs and she knew that'd mean mentoring him when he was ready to be a hero once more.

☆☆☆

It's a year later when Peter finally finds the strength to go back to the compound. May had called up Rhodey a while ago and asked for his opinion on the subject.

"When he's ready, we'll be waiting. He's an avenger, but we still need time after something like this." James regretted that last part when the kind woman's inquiries into his wellbeing brought tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat.

Peter said he needed a little more time. He thought he should be a normal teenager for a while because,

"It's what Tony would have wanted."

When the day came, May was beyond apprehensive. Peter had been more fidgety than usual, somehow, so much so that she could practically feel the sickening vibrations of excitement and anxiety. She drove him to the compound with tensed shoulders and nervous glances at the passenger seat. Peter smiled at her each time, it hurt to go there with the guarantee of no Tony but he was ready to be back to his normal as can be superhero career. May had to resist the urge to walk him to the door with two strong hands on his shoulders. He could practically see her thoughts and took her hands in his when he was out of the car. She walked him in, greeting Happy with a smile as Rhodey pulled Peter towards the meeting room. They didn't say goodbye. Didn't have to.

"Alright, kid. Now, we're gonna ease you back in. Most of us are away on business, but there's somebody who's looking forward to meeting you. Properly, anyway." He held the door open for him and the blonde lady, Captain Marvel he vaguely remembered her being called in the letters Tony had written for him, turned around.

"Hey, Peter Parker." She smiled. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the small flashback of the battle and let the grin tug the corner of his lips up.

"Captain Marvel?" His words dripped with adoration.

"Please, call me Carol. Captain Marvel is my mother." She joked before backtracking at the incredulous look on his face. "No. Um, not really. I was just joking. All human, you see. Just absorbed the energy of the tesseract so now I can do this," she points a clenched fist at the wall and a photon blast leaves a scorch mark.

"Come on, man. I thought we stayed in contact because we're both the only no nonsense avengers." Rhodey groaned.

"We are, but, James, there's a child in the room. Unlike you, I'm great with kids." She replied coolly, bumping shoulders with Peter.

"Okay, one, I'm nearly eighteen-"

"So still a kid." She interrupted, but was swiftly ignored by the boy.

"And, two, your name is James?" He laughed as Rhodey grumbled something about a headache and walked out.

"Carol Danvers at your mentoring service." She bowed, grinning.

"You're going to be my new mentor?" He asked, shaking off the waver in his voice.

"I mean, I know I'm off world a lot but yeah. I don't see why not. I'm the best influence here. You're basically as strong as me and your webs mean you can fly. Kind of. You get what I mean. The only difference is, I can shoot the power of an infinity stone out of my fists." Peter's eyes widened in awe. The beam on his face ached and he thought it was physically impossible for it to grow anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled like this so genuinely. However, the lightness of the air quickly evolved into a serious atmosphere as she sat down and motioned for him to take a seat. He complied immediately, heart freezing in fear of what was to come. "Tony told me a lot about you," and there it was. He sucked in a deep breath and knew his new, out of this world, insanely cool mentor was watching him deteriorate. "Hey, hey. Take a deep breath. Heroes are allowed to be scared. The best ones usually are." She smiled kindly yet sadly. "Do you want me to carry on?" Peter nodded, steeling himself with the necessity of hearing what was to be said.

"I do." He confirmed.

"He told me how brave you are, how strong and kind and respectful. How you'd do anything to please him, but you weren't afraid to stand up to him when he was being stubborn. He admired you more than he'd ever get to admit. Said his biggest regret was not telling you how much you meant to him when you were alive. He loved you, Pete. And, not to make this about me or anything, I knew I would to when you were polite enough to introduce yourself to me whilst holding the doom of the universe in your tired arms." She stood abruptly as her — was that a pager? — pager beeped. "I have to go. Rhodey has your way of contacting me whenever you need me. Whether it's life threatening stuff or you just need to talk, please get in touch." She pulled him into a newly comforting embrace before ushering him out of the door. "I want to meet this 'hot aunt' of yours." He found yet another smile forming on his face.

Happy stopped mid-sentence and looked over May's shoulder. She turned around, fearing the dejected look she was sure to see on Peter's face and the furrowed brow on Rhodey's. Instead, she found her grinning nephew next to a woman who seemed to be glowing. An expression of pure amazement tugging at his face.

"Hello?" May offered her hand. Carol took it, pulling a face of approval.

"You must be the wonder aunt, May Parker. You raised a wonderful boy and the world's safer for it. Thank you." Carol noticed they were still holding hands and blushed slightly as she coughed, retracting her gloved hand.

"Um, thanks?" May asked uncertainly as an inexplicable smile spread across her face.

"No problem. Sorry this has to be an abrupt meeting, but too many planets to save and too little time to save them. Bye, Peter, May." She nodded before retreating to the doors.

"Who's that?" May asked as they watched her shoot off into the sky.

"Carol Danvers. My new mentor." Peter looped his arm through May's and began recounting the wonderfully bizarre encounter he'd just had.

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hailing-stars · 5 years

Text

for peter - part 4/5

summary

“Something’s wrong with Buddy, dad.”

Tony turned at the sound of gravel crunching under tires and saw the source of Buddy’s unrest. A car full of Avengers, pulling up and parking in his driveway.

Buddy bolted towards the car, barking, and as Steve Rogers opened his door and stepped outside, growled. His head was bowed low to the ground, like he was about to attack, while Steve, and now Nat and the ant-guy – Tony couldn’t remember his real name – stared at him.

“Are you going to call off the guard dog?” asked Steve.

Peter is still a dog and endgame is happening

read below or on ao3

“I don’t want to.”

“Morguna,” said Tony, looking back and forth, between the jet-ski bobbing in the lake water, and his little girl, who rocked from foot to foot on the dock. “It’s gonna be really fun. Are you sure?”

It was uncharacteristic for her to not want to try out one of the many inventions that came out of the garage. She loved trying out his crazy builds, loved it too much, actually, and so much that it sometimes scared Tony. That it made him believe Morgan was just a repeat of himself, with Pepper’s DNA mixed there to make her ten times as dangerous.

At least she had inherited Pepper’s common sense and intelligence along with Tony’s knack for blowing things up in the garage.

A breeze blew off the night, and Tony knelt down to swipe her hair out of her eyes. “Are you afraid?”

“What if I fall in, like before?” asked Morgan, staring down at the lake below.

“Daddy will catch you.”

“What if you can’t? What if you’re not there?”

It seemed like a ridiculous question. Of course Tony would be there. He wasn’t going to let Morgan drive a jet-ski around the lake by herself, but he knew her fear wasn’t in the future, it was in the past.

When Morgan had fallen through the ice, and into the water, he hadn’t been there. He’d been taking out the trash.

Never again. It was a vow the night of the near tragic Christmas, while he watched her sleep. He’d always be there for Morgan, and if, for some reason, he couldn’t be, he would make sure she and Pepper would be looked after.

“Hey, you know what?” asked Tony. “What if Buddy came with us? On the jet-ski?”

Behind her, Buddy’s head shot up from where he was sniffing the ground, searching for the squirrel that had escaped him and went up the tree he stood under. That mutt. He would hear his name being called if he were located on a planet in a different universe. Before Morgan could even answer, he was barking and running over to where they stood on the dock.

“Well now you have to,” said Tony. “For Buddy.”

Morgan gave him a small, sly smile, and nodded her head.

Just a few minutes later, after putting Morgan in a lifejacket and after wrestling one onto Buddy, the three of them sat on the jet-ski. Tony’s arms stretched over them both as his hands gripped the handlebars, and Morgan leaned into him, tense and scared, but trying her best to be brave.

It wasn’t so hard once Tony started up the engine and they took off from the dock. Buddy barked and Morgan laughed, and Tony never wanted the day to end.

But the sun did set, even if they did have dinner outside to try and stretch the day out as far as they could.

“Dad,” said Morgan, as Tony brought the covers up to her chin. “I’m sorry I was scared. I know Starks aren’t supposed to be afraid.”

“What? Who told you that?”

“I figured it out,” said Morgan. “You’re Iron Man.”

“Do you wanna hear a secret?”

Morgan smiled. She nodded her head.

“I’m afraid a lot,” he told her. “I just try to push through and keep going. That’s what Starks do.”

Tony kissed her on the forehead after they exchanged goodnights, then he headed back out to the garage, where another what of his insane projects lived. An armor in a shade of blue Tony had fallen in love with years ago.

He worked in the quiet, with Buddy by his side, occasionally passing him the tools he needed. Buddy always knew what he needed, and when, and Tony didn’t bother questioning it.

The end started as a perfect day, just like the end typically does.

Sunlight hit Tony as he stepped off the porch and into the yard, and the air was crisp as he walked towards Morgan’s play tent.

It was the perfect kind of weather. Weather where wearing a sweater was comfortable, but not required. Weather that wasn’t foreboding.

Weather that lied.

“Morguna,” said Tony, in a sing-song voice, as he sat down in her little wooden chair. From that angle, he could see Buddy’s tail popping out from under the tent, wagging back and forth in the dirt. “Morgan H. Stark. Want some lunch?”

“Define lunch, or be disintegrated,” said Morgan, as she appeared out from the tent. She wore Pepper’s rescue helmet, and had her arm outstretched, pointing a toy Iron Man blaster at him.

Tony took the helmet off her. “You should not be wearing this, okay? It’s part of a very special anniversary present I’m making mom.” He wiped some hair out of her face. “Where did you find it?”

“In the garage.”

He lowered his hands and gently took her little hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the worn, red cloth that surrounded the glow light that was supposed to be a blaster. “And this?”

“In Buddy’s boxes.”

Buddy barked and ran out from the tent. He pointed his nose at Morgan, then the blaster, then the helmet, and gave a series of happy barks while he did a half jump in the air. Tony translated his excitement into a pride. Look at their girl. Quizzical just like her dad. A thief, but a curious one.

Tony fought the smile from his face. He wasn’t the firm parent, so he failed.

“You mutt,” said Tony. He waged a finger at Buddy, who snapped his teeth at it and earned a giggle from Morgan. “You’re supposed to be watching her.”

Tony lifted Morgan off the ground by her legs, holding her with one hand and the rescue helmet in the other as he began walking back towards the cabin.

“You like going into the garage? So does daddy.”

Maybe one day he’d have a proper workshop again, like before, and maybe they would spend days or most likely nights there, like he and Pete used to do. Imagining what Morgan would be like, wondering who she would grow up to be, were the only moments Tony looked forward to the future instead of wanting to hit a pause button and freeze time.

He had an aching, dreadful feeling that time raced towards something he wouldn’t walk away from. That his time may stop, but the world would march on without him.

His feelings were echoed by Buddy, who out of nowhere, stuck his head up in the air and barked. Not his usual happy bark. A strange bark that was like a mix between a howl and growl. He barked, and barked, and kept barking, causing Tony to stop in his tracks and Morgan to shift around in his arm.

“Something’s wrong with Buddy, dad.”

Tony turned at the sound of gravel crunching under tires and saw the source of Buddy’s unrest. A car full of Avengers, pulling up and parking in his driveway.

“Are you going to call off the guard dog?” asked Steve.

Buddy growled louder and moved towards Steve.

“Easy boy,” said Tony.

As much fun as it’d be to see Buddy giving Steve a good bite on the ankle, he didn’t need Steve bleeding all over his yard.

Hesitantly, Buddy straightened out, and circled back to stand with Tony and Morgan, but planted himself between them, creating a barrier between the Avengers and Tony as they stared each other down.

They were tripping.

Nat and Steve and Scott sat on his porch and talked to him about time travel, while Buddy sat at his feet and occasionally groaned, letting them all know even the dog thought their ideas were ridiculous.

Tony could barely believe what he was hearing. The only part that didn’t take him off guard was that the first time the Avengers dropped by it was about business. That part was predictable. Nonsense about time travel wasn’t.

He listened, until he couldn’t anymore and until Morgan came out to rescue him.

He offered them dinner, if they could save him the speeches about time travel and duty, as he walked back inside his home with Morgan in his arms. Buddy followed him back inside, giving the Avengers one last angry bark as the door swung shut behind them.

Then Tony was tripping.

He was spraying himself in the face with the dish rinser, distracted by his own theories about time travel, distracted by a tiny spark of hope that was kindling in his chest. Hope that he would get to see Peter Parker smile again.

That he would get to hear his laugh.

That 3 AM phone calls would return, where Tony would shout at Peter for being an idiot and getting himself stabbed.

Or maybe, he’d wake up not to a phone call, but to a meme he didn’t really understand. He’d laugh and show Pepper anyway.

He took the picture of him and Pete holding the Stark Industries picture off the shelf, the one Buddy used to carry around the house and show anyone who would pay attention and dried it off with a towel. It stabbed at him the same way it always did, and when he put it back and turned, he saw Buddy standing in the doorway, staring at him.

Buddy’s eyes stabbed at him, too.

And they continued to stab him, even as Tony left the kitchen and walked into a sitting room he’d turned into a makeshift lab. He powered on his tech to run some numbers, and Buddy darted out of the room, only to return seconds later with his tail wagging and his tennis ball in his mouth.

“Not now, boy,” Tony told him. “Can’t you see the old man is trying to work?”

Buddy dropped the ball and it bounced against the floor. He barked, loud and clear, and somehow, Tony knew he was being called out. That Buddy knew what he was up to, and that he wasn’t going to allow it.

“Don’t be like that. It’s a fool’s mission, anyway. Time travel is impossible.”

And yet, there he was, trying to work through it.

Buddy barked again.

Tony pretended he didn’t hear him. He tore his eyes away from his dog, but before he could get started, Buddy was under the table, tugging at his pant leg, trying to drag him away from his work.

With a sigh, Tony knelt down to the floor and messaged Buddy’s ears, realizing that the only way he’d get to work in peace was if he tricked Buddy into going into Morgan’s room and locked him in.

He didn’t feel great about it, felt even worse as he softly shut the door and heard Buddy’s quiet, sad whine, but he had to do it.

Time travel wouldn’t solve itself, and Tony’s mind wouldn’t stop racing with the possibilities unless he tried and failed.

“Shit.”

“Shit,” repeated Morgan.

Tony’s finger flew in front of his lips as he turned to his side and saw Morgan sitting on the staircase watching him, with her arm over Buddy, who sat at her side.

“No. We don’t say that word. That’s mommy’s word. She coined it.”

“What are you doing up?”

“I had some important shit going on in here, what do you think?”

Morgan tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. Tony tried to take a mental picture. To remember that look forever, and probably, he would. He had a gut-wrenching theory his forever wasn’t as long as he wanted it to be.

“No, I – I had something on my mind.”

“So… it’s not because you’re scared?”

“Scared? No – why would daddy be scared?”

Morgan looked down at Buddy and ran her fingers through his fur. “Buddy’s scared because you’re scared. Animals feel our emotions. Mommy read it to me from a book.”

Tony stared back at his daughter and wondered what kind of books, exactly, Pepper was reading to her. She was too smart, too perceptive, for her own good. Just like Buddy, the dog who sometimes and always knew and understood more than he should.

If one day Tony was gone, if he had to leave them, like he always feared that he would, at least they had each other. Tony hoped that would be enough.

“Was it juice pops?”

“Huh?”

“On your mind.”

“You know, it was,” said Tony, standing up from his chair and stretching out his hand, his fingers intertwining with Morgan’s tiny ones. “That’s extortion.”

Buddy padded along after them as they headed towards the kitchen, giving Tony his mournful and knowing eyes while Tony searched the freezer for the beloved popsicles. He unwrapped one for Morgan, and for Buddy, placing his in the dog bowl on the floor after the dog refused to take it out of his hand.

The next morning, there was a wooden stick and a puddle of juice sitting in Buddy’s bowl.

Before Tony left for the time heist, he said goodbye to his family.

He hugged and kissed Pepper, never wanting to let her go. Their goodbye was silent. No words needed to be exchanged. She knew there was a chance he wouldn’t be coming back, so Tony didn’t have to explain or lie. They just breathed, together, maybe, for the last time.

There was still hope in her eyes, though, and Tony didn’t like it, didn’t want her to be crushed. He supposed it wasn’t illogical hope.

Tony had always come back before.

His goodbye to Morgan was the same as if he were going out for a quick store run. He told her he loved. He kissed her cheek and pulled her up into his arms for a hug, that lasted so long she started to squirm out of his arms. When he put her down, she replied that she loved him too, and went back to playing with her monster trucks.

Tony wondered if he’d be there to take her to get her first car, if he’d be there to teach her how to drive.

He said goodbye to Buddy last.

He kneeled in the grass, outside in the front yard, and looked into Buddy’s mysteriously familiar brown eyes.

“Listen buddy,” he said. “I know you don’t like what I’m doing, but this – this might bring Peter back. Him and so many others. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to see Pete again?”

Buddy offered him a sad whine, and it made Tony wonder if there was anyone else Buddy missed. Any other humans that would’ve been kind to a stray.

“I’m gonna do whatever it takes, even if it means – even if it means I don’t make it back.”

Buddy whined-growled at him.

“Don’t give me that,” said Tony. “You’d do the same thing, if you got the chance, which is why I need you to promise me you’ll take care of my girls if I don’t come back.”

Buddy was silent for a long time, then sealed his promise by placing a paw on Tony��s knee and giving a loud, clear bark that could only be mean an agreement.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Tony forced a smile as he gave his dog one last pet, as he lost control of his better judgement and wrapped both his arms around Buddy and gave him a full-out hug. Eventually he had to force himself up and away and into his car.

When he looked in his rearview mirror on his way out, Buddy was still sitting in the same spot in the grass, watching as Tony drove away from his wife, his daughter, his dog. His perfect life, that he always kind of knew would come to end before he was ready.

Something was wrong.

Buddy could sense it in his heart.

More than that, he heard it, in the floorboards as Pepper paced from room to room, as she tried to make her voice sound normal whenever she spoke to Morgan, but there were cracks in it. Buddy heard them.

He heard a lot of things humans couldn’t hear.

When he was a human and had a different name – although he couldn’t always remember what that other name was – it was same. He was different then, too, had sharper senses than most.

But now his senses were dulling. They were weaker.

He was getting weaker.

Buddy stood up from where he laid by the fireplace and bolted through the doggy door. He didn’t stop running until he was in the shed, with just Gerald, where Pepper and Morgan couldn’t see what was about to happen to him.

He was fading out. He was disappearing, and he knew keeping the promise he made to Tony meant not letting Pepper or Morgan see him turn back into dust.

The last thing he heard with dog ears was Gerald snorting.

The he was dust blowing across the atmosphere, that pieced back together on a planet far from home.

The first thing he heard with human ears, in five years, was Doctor Strange.

Peter’s eyes snapped open as the man shook his shoulder. He sat up slowly, and looked at his arms and legs, covered with Iron Spider armor and not fur. It was like waking up from a dream that had been real.

“Hurry up,” Doctor Strange told him, yanking him to his feet by his arm. “They need you.”

Chaos erupted around him, as aliens and avengers fought.

Peter bounced around the battlefield, ducking and dodging and getting a few good hints in, but mostly, searching for Mr. Stark. That took most his concentration, most his energy, and when he finally did spot Iron Man, he was on the ground.

He flung himself over and helped Mr. Stark out from a pile of rubble he’d fallen in. Seeing him there, looking at him, at eye-level while standing with just two legs, and knowing he’d spent the last five years grieving him, Peter just wanted to explain.

Everything. How he was a dog. How Morgan was great, and how she deserved to grow up with a father. With Mr. Stark.

“Holy cow, Mr. Stark, you will not believe-“ started Peter, but he was cut off by Mr. Stark’s slow march forwards, by his arms surrounding him, knocking the air out of him.

Peter let it happen. He let Mr. Stark hold him, then kiss him on the cheek, then hold him some more, as the blasts and battle cries kept playing around them. Peter let out a breath, felt his body relax. He put his head into Mr. Stark’s shoulder.

“Thanks for all the cheeseburgers, Mr. Stark.”

“What?”

A blast from a stray laser beam landed dangerously close and broke them apart.

Worry flashed across Mr. Stark’s eyes. Probably, Peter thought, he was realizing that because he had Peter back, he could lose him a second time. Peter was worried about similar things, although he felt his worry was more justified.

He remembered Tony’s goodbye speech. He remembered the promise he made as Buddy, to be there for Pepper and Morgan, if something happened to Tony.

“Be safe,” Mr. Stark told him with a nod.

“You too,” said Peter, back at him,

He nodded at him before rejoining the fight, but Peter knew it was a lie. Mr. Stark was still willing to do whatever it took to keep Thanos from wiping out the universe, even if it meant he didn’t survive, and when the gauntlet ended up in Peter’s hands, somehow, he knew two things.

Peter knew he had to keep the stones away from Thanos, but he absolutely knew had to keep them away from Mr. Stark, too. Whatever it took.

#irondad bingo #irondad fic #fanfic #irondad #Peter parker #Tony stark #Morgan stark #endgame fix it #Peter is a dog

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tsuki-chibi · 5 years

Text

Adrinette April Day 22: Aged Up

“Stop staring at me.”

“Only if you stop staring at me.”

Marinette scowled. “I wasn’t staring,” she lied.

“You totally were,” Adrien said. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he sported a huge grin.

She blushed slightly and snuck another quick look at him. Sure enough, he was grinning. And the sight of that grin sent even more flutters through her poor heart than usual.

Fifteen-year-old Adrien Agreste was cute. Twenty-five-year-old Adrien Agreste was smoking hot.

Time was definitely going to be kind to him. He was tall and had filled out some in the shoulders, losing the too-skinny look that dogged him in his youth. His blond hair was long enough for him to pull it back into a low ponytail, with a couple shorter pieces that framed his face. With a strong jaw peppered with stubble and and a roguish grin, Marinette didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Hi,” Adrien said, wiggling his fingers at her. Marinette squeaked and hastily looked away, her face on fire.

And to think, she had gone into this fight thinking that it would be easy. The akuma was, she guessed, a child that really wanted to grow up. Anyone was struck with the blue beam of light ended up aging roughly ten years. Hence, she and Adrien were getting a sneak peek of what the future might someday hold.

She was pretty okay with how she looked. She wasn’t very tall, but that was par for the course. Her chest had developed some more, which was nice, and her hair now hung down almost to her waist. She’d caught a glimpse of herself in a store window while she and Chat were running away, and she was overall happy.

It was Adrien who was killing her.

“You know, Bugaboo, it’s gonna take Plagg and Tikki at least another ten minutes to eat. I know how we can fill that time,” Adrien murmured in her ear. He slid a muscled arm around her waist and she swallowed hard.

His voice was so much deeper. Huskier. It was definitely having an effect on her. Marinette couldn’t tell whether she wanted to spontaneously combust or jump him.

“Oh you do, do you?” Marinette said, deciding to go for option three. She half-turned to look at him and fluttered her eyelashes, pursing her lips in a way that Alya had told her was very sexy.

Adrien looked like he’d been slapped with a wet fish. He stared at her with a dumbfounded look. She fought the urge to giggle insanely.

“Then kiss me, Chaton,” she said breathily, trying to sound sultry. It was embarrassing, but totally worth it for the way Adrien turned bright red and stuttered.

#adrinetteapril2019 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #aged up characters #literally lmao #miraculous ladybug #my drabbles

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bubbleboybev · 4 months

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every year dew challenges mountain to grow a pepper too hot for him to eat. the pepper tasting has become a whole event at this point. everyone gathers around to see if dew can eat it. aether begs them not to do it so he doesn't have to see dew in the infirmary later. last year dew blew smoke out of his hears cartoon style but he insists that doesn't count

#swiss is a big supporter of this event #mountain can be silly too guys #of COURSE hes gonna try to grow some kind of insane pepper #thats his dewdrop #and hes not gonna take a challenge to his gardening skills lying down

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messagefromtheveins · 5 years

Text

Make You Feel Good

A/N: Heavily unedited. I just wanted to finish this before going to bed. Inspired by an ask on another blog about Shawn (hopefully) getting his dick sucked real good tonight.

Words: 1601

Pairing: Shawn/reader

Warning: smut

The grin on his face was more than elated, a hand behind his head and body completely relaxed against the tons of pillows and thick covers, legs spread wide apart. "I am having the best day ever," he mumbled as he lazily let his gaze trail down your body, the lingerie set you were wearing hugging all of your curves so perfectly. He shifted his legs when you crawled on the bed on your hands and knees, wanting to reach down and adjust his rapidly growing cock, but he quickly decided against it as you slowly let your hands run up the inside of his thighs. Biting his bottom lip, he groaned lowly as you skipped his crotch completely and instead moved your hands to the buttons of his shirt he had put on for the spontaneous dinner his crew had organized.

Your knees were digging into the mattress on either side of his thighs as you teasingly slow popped the buttons open, each new one revealing a bit more of his soft skin and perfectly muscled torso. He leaned forward, his lips immediately placing kisses along the cup of your bra that usually had you weak for him while you undid the last button and pushed the shirt aside. Fingertips trailing up to his chest, you let yourself marvel at the fact that he was all yours before you placed your hands flat on his chest and pushed him back against the pillows. He chuckled but didn't resist, amused eyes looking up to you, though they fluttered shut when you leaned down to pepper kisses along his neck.

His hands reached for you, but the second he touched your bare waist in the lightest touch your hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling him away and pinning his arms against the mountain of pillows behind him instead. Grinning, he couldn't stop the gasp as you lightly nibbled on his collar bones. "Honey," he murmured, hands curling into fists as your lips slowly trailed down his chest in soft pecks. "What're you doing?"

He hissed in surprise when you gently bit one of his nipples, eyes opening and looking down on you with baffled eyes. "Just wanna make my man feel good," you mumbled against his skin, his deep groan filling the quiet room.

"Fuck," he muttered and didn't move his hands when you let go of his wrists. He swallowed heavily and tilted his head back with closed eyes as you tugged on his belt, taking your sweet time to undo his jeans and pull the zipper down while your lips had reached his lower stomach. His muscles tensed as you placed soft kisses along the waistband of his jeans, his body jerking in surprise when your hand finally placed on his crotch. He mumbled something you didn't understand, his hips lifting off the bed a little to grind his still covered length against your palm.

He wriggled in obvious excitement as you tugged his tight jeans off his legs, his eyes furrowed in concentration as he tried to help, but just like every other time they got stuck around his ankles again and he groaned in impatience while kicking them off, your soft giggle barely reaching him. "Shawn, relax," you cooed as you settled between his legs, your hands placed on his thighs in a light touch that drove him insane, the muscles twitching under your palms, "we got all night."

The displeased frown on his face clearly told you that he was not in the mood to have you drag this on forever and that made you grin widely. Leaning over him, your hands placed on his chest for balance as you captured his lips in a tender kiss that he immediately deepened, his hands once again reaching for you and this time you let him. His fingers dug into your waist and he broke the kiss with a deep moan as you let your nails lightly scratch down his chest in a way that always gave him goosebumps. Head pushing back against the pillows and spine arching, he shivered when you traced a single finger along his happy trail before he gasped your name, his head lifting to look at you. Your eyes were on his while you mouthed at his boxer briefs, your tongue pushing against the tip with the perfect amount of pressure to have him furrowing his eyebrows in pleasure while he tightly bit his lip to hold back another sound. "Baby…"

"Just let me show you how proud I am of you?" you whispered, his cock visibly twitching beneath his underwear.

"Fuck, yes. Of course," he breathed and reached a hand up to tangle it into his hair as you finally tugged his boxers off. His hand twitched to reach down and give himself some relief, but before he could even attempt to act on it your mouth was right there, hovering above his flushed length that rested on his abdomen. Giving him a smirk, you blew cold air from the base to the tip, taking in the way he squirmed and mumbled your name, his free hand tugging on the sheets. "Oh, shit."

The moan got stuck in his throat as your lips finally wrapped around the head, his mouth opened without a sound coming out as you twirled your tongue around the flushed skin, watching him for a moment longer before you let your eyes fall closed and completely concentrated on pleasuring him. One of his hands immediately landed on the back of your head as you took him deeper into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, long fingers tangling into your hair and body squirming beneath you.

His hips lightly rocked off the bed, silently encouraging you to go further- knowing exactly that you could. He realized a second too late that your hands didn't place on his hips like you usually did to keep him from moving, his eyes widening and teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he experimentally thrust into your mouth in a slow movement. Groaning softly when you didn't stop him, he lightly tugged on your hair like he needed to get your attention. "Gonna let me-" he didn't even finish his sentence when you hummed around his shaft, going back to sucking on his tip while he tangled his other hand into your hair, too.

Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he mumbled all kinds of incoherent things under his breath while he slowly thrust into your mouth, eyes lazy as he watched you take him so perfectly, pretty lips wrapped around his cock and dark eyes looking up to him. "So good for me," he whispered and untangled a hand from your hair to caress your cheek instead, thumb brushing over the spot where your cheek hollowed out. He knew exactly how far he could go without pushing your limits- though he often liked to test them when he was sure that you were up for it, trying to see if you managed to take more of him.

Letting his head fall back against the pillows, he inhaled deeply and stopped his movements earlier than you had expected, a silent sign for you to take over. Wrapping your hand around his base, you didn't miss a beat as you immediately moved your head to the pace he had gone before, making sure to swipe your tongue over his slit on every move upwards and occasionally moaning around him. You had him squirming and panting below you within less than two minutes, your name falling from his lips over and over in breathless moans.

He whined in protest when you pulled away, his length twitching and his head lifting to look at you, trying not to glare at you. "Fuck, don't stop."

Giving him a smirk, you slowly licked a trail along his shaft while you kept your eyes on him, your hand pumping him while you twirled your tongue around his tip again. "Where do you want to come?"

The question had him forget how to breathe for a moment, cheeks flushing even more than they already were. He contemplated it, his hand combing through your hair while you lazily sucked on his tip. His eyes moved from your lips, to your face, to your boobs before he sighed and lightly tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb. "Down your throat. 'wanna see you swallowing all of it."

Chuckling, you lowered your head again and made sure to completely blow his mind this time. You pulled all the moves that had him gasping and moaning, working him closer and closer. He was panting by the time you took him even deeper, his eyes that had been closed shooting open and staring at you as his tip touched the back of your throat. Though before you could gag around him he quickly pulled you back, his length throbbing against your tongue and hot spurts of his cum shooting down your throat just a second later.

He wanted to watch, but his eyes closed on their own accord while his head tilted back. You worked him through it, his whimpers filling the room while he couldn't stop his hips from lightly rocking off the bed again. You pulled back once you were sure that you had gotten every drop out of him, his eyes opening just in time to see you swallowing. He sighed softly as you placed a kiss on his tip before you sat up straight. "Fuck," he mumbled followed by a giggle, "what're you gonna do if I actually win?"

#am i posting too much smut lately?#eh don't care #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes writing #shawn peter raul mendes #writing

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downbythewater-beachblondee · 6 years

Text

27 | The Monte Carlo Affair

April 28th 2000

"The flowers! Where are the fucking flowers?"

It was the spring of the last year in the twentieth century and Dinah Tobias was all the rage.

"No! Ay, Dios Mio. We need white roses and Chrysanthemums, you idiot!"

It was also the year I discovered she was half Mexican. She talked to the landscaping guys fluently when she really felt like they did something wrong.

"You know, who are you? I might just have you fired-"

"Ma, you need to relax."

"Relax? You know what, Elijah. Don't...fucking talk to me until this day is over. Got it?"

It was comical, that day. The sun was shining and it didn't rain for weeks which was odd for Mississippi in May.

All I could remember was the sun shining perfectly on Esther's face when I seen her walk down the aisle. She had no flaws, man. She was perfect that day and forever more.

My mom was totally insane and somehow she made everything and everybody work together for us that night.

"I'd like to make a toast." She sang, diddling the little wine glass with her cinderella gloves. She could really play the part when she needed to.

"My son....My daughter...." Were the only two words worth anything. The rest were about our childhood and how we met as kids. Never did she mention that Esther was my cousin once. It was alright with me, I mean who would really want to broadcast such a thing.

And mother was the queen at knowing what and what not to broadcast.

We had a good time that night. All of us. The music was good, the food was good, the wine was great.

I was marrying my fucking cousin for christ's sake.

I'd like to think we were getting married because we wanted to but I would be lying through my teeth.

Mother didn't need a reason to marry us off. She just did. The second she got wind of me growing up and fending for myself she just had to draw one of her eyes out of their sockets to keep watch on me somehow.

Maybe it was because she couldn't let go of me entirely so she felt inclined to entrust someone she knew would take care of me.

Esther truly was a good woman.

But, come on. We were young.

We were so young.

I was blinded by Esther's beauty the night we bounded vows. But in all truths, I hated to admit that my mother was right about something.

After all, she didn't force me to marry Esther.

Esther really was the perfect woman. With or without makeup on she was a beacon. She was a beacon of strength when I had none and she prayed with me when I had no words. When my words were taken from me, she breathed them into my soul like chain smoke.

Esther and I truly gave content a positive connotation.

Yes, later on we'd come to the realization that we were never meant for marriage. But we stayed married. Because I needed her. She knew I needed her. And despite the situation, she was always there. For me. For the family. For whatever was right.

Needless to say, I loved that girl. It was only that night had I realized that I wasn't afraid to say it.

Yeah, it might've been weird but we made whatever relationship we had official in the eyes of God. Right or wrong. Mother or no mother.

Almost like I was marrying my best friend.

☽

Elijah

Car rides with Asia were always silent until she started yapping about something feeble and vain. If it wasn't about a new exercise she found in a magazine it was about some diet pills she found for half off. She was mediocre in everything she did and then had the nerve to ask me what I thought. She dragged me along to accompany her with her spree's, asking "How do I look?". It was fun at first but it never mattered what I said. Her mind was an open abyss and she had no intentions of finding out what I really thought about anything. I was her walking machine that just went along with everything she did and said. So no, weight and beauty weren't really her biggest issues.

"I was looking at the World Wide Web today..."

I wondered about Sanaa without feeling guilt probably for the first time. Was she alive? She never went this long without at least trying to contact me.

"Apparently, there's this girl named Amelia Bergin: goes by the name Pepper. She went missing a few days ago..."

Was I pushing her away? I don't exactly remember what went down the last time I saw her. Not that it was that important.

"This will make the fourth incident in Los Cabasas in which a woman has been reported missing and found dead not too long after..."

Everything I did was for her. I kept her in mind when I did anything. My mom gets in the way of everyones personal life. What makes her think she's not going to put her two cents into ours?

"The fourth...Elijah. Elijah? Elijah, are you listening to me?"

If she couldn't accept my family to begin with, there was just no way we would've worked out. And she had to respect that.

"Elijah, slow down. Slow down! You're about to hit her!"

It was even worse on my part especially since I done already told her everything pertaining to Esther's death and her little friend Kylo. It was like she was waving this flag of guilt above my head with every day we were apart.

"Fucking slow down!"

It was the first time Asia cursed and the first time someone physically controlled the wheel without my consent.

I stomped on the breaks forcefully, sending Asia and I both towards the dashboard.

"Ouch!"

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I think so." She whined holding her nose. "Is it broken?"

"Let me see. Wiggle it."

She sniffed, touching it lightly.

"No, it's not broken."

"How do you know?" She whimpered.

"Trust me. You'd know if it was broken. You wouldn't be able to talk."

"Thank God. I have an AKA meeting tomorrow. I can't afford to have a wrap on my nose."

We were in the middle of the street so horns began honking furiously.

"Gosh, people can be so insensitive."

"Say's the guy who couldn't hear a god damn thing I was saying and almost broke my fucking nose!"

"Wait, didn't you say we almost ran someone over?"

Asia's eyes wandered the scene, landing directly on a woman crossing the street quicker than shit running down a stick.

"Fix the car, damn it."

I did as she said, pulling over on the sidewalk.

"Wait!" She called over to the girl, holding her nose. "I'm sorry. My boyfriend's an idiot. We didn't mean to scare you!"

Ugh. Just hearing the word made me gag in my throat. What else was about to happen, the romantic signing of our prenup?

"Oh, it's quite alright." The girl responded.

"Come on. We'll drive you to wherever you need to go."

"No, it's really alright."

"Oh, come. It's the least we could do."

The girl hesitantly walked over towards the car. She was tall and shapely wearing an uneasy smile the shape of a crescent moon. Disappearing every now and then and rare as a north star.

"Hello," She greeted before hopping into the backseat.

"Hey, I'm Asia." Asia welcomed, extending the hand that wasn't viciously holding onto her nose. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

The girls laden eyes drifted towards mine.

It was the way her jaw silently dropped that told me exactly who she was. If it wasn't for her form and her anxious physique I probably wouldn't have put two and two together. But, I remembered.

"Elijah," Asia scolded, wrapping my arm with the sharp slap of her fingers. "Aren't you gonna introduce yourself?"

"Hey."

I didn't know if it were appropriate to call a family reunion since I barely knew the girl. However, I did know that she was pretty close to Kylo and Sanaa: Two people I've been trying to block out of my mind for while.

And if she were anywhere near me I knew that one of them were as well.

Which also meant Sanaa would show her face very soon.

And just when I thought I'd gotten my mojo back.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

_______________

"What do you like in your tea?"

I was at a standstill between a mute and an overbearing girlfriend. If all was truly fair in love and war I'd loose every time.

"Nothing. I like it by itself."

Of course she did. Isolated, like she truly was.

I crossed my arms, placing my head on the table.

"Don't look so gloom, Elijah. You know we still have to drop her off at her home." Asia babbled.

"Why couldn't we have just done that at first."

"We have to show some hospitality. We almost ran the girl over not even forty five minutes ago."

Peaches gazed at me quickly. I could've sworn she had a smirk on her face. If she weren't pretty, maybe I wouldn't have noticed as much.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Asia interrogated.

"...Peaches." She finally spoke. Her voice singing songs of comfort almost instantly.

"Well, isn't that a pretty name."

If I could slit my wrists with a knife I would've. I hated petty, superficial conversations.

"So, Peaches...where do you stay? Once you finish your tea we can head out there."

"It's out that way," She revealed, extending her index finger north. "Down by the water."

"Water? What water?" Asia inquired.

See, Asia knew nothing about the rancid water sitting within the abandoned park. Not many people did. I didn't at first. Which reminded me of Sanaa and made me want to slit my wrists even more.

"It's near the hospital. I know exactly where it is." I carped, exchanging stares with Peaches. She wanted a staring contest? I was bout to give her one.

Asia sat back in her chair.

"Well if I didn't know you, Elijah I'd say you all know each other." Asia joked. Although it wasn't funny.

"He's an old friend." Chimed Peaches, unexpectedly.

I wish she wouldn't have done that.

But before Asia could question and object, her pager rang loudly.

"Er- hold on." She got up, answering her phone in the other room.

Once I knew she was fully out of the kitchen, I faced Peaches and began to speak just above a whisper.

"Where is she?" I declared.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, save the bullshit. You know exactly where she is and you're hiding her from me."

"Hm, that's what you think?"

"What is this? Some kind of lesbian love story going on here?"

"I think you're rude and disrespectful and I don't have to sit here and listen to you banter on about something that's never gonna happen."

"Never?"

"Give her a break. She's been through enough with you, as is."

"She has? What other lies has she been moaning into your ear?"

Asia switched back into the kitchen, grabbing her gucci jacket and purse.

"My mom called." She faltered. "I'm heading out."

Her demeanor had totally changed. She went from being overly social to uncertain. I don't know if it was the phone call or if it had something to do with Peaches running her mouth about me being an old friend of hers.

"Well...since you know where she lives you don't need me to tell you to take her home."

Within a few seconds she finally left through the garage.

With the closing of the backdoor, Peaches stood up emptying her glass into the sink.

"Nice gal you got there." She incited.

"As much as I'd love talking to you about what doesn't concern you, I'd rather discuss our prior conversation."

"Like I said, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know, I don't even need to talk to you. I really could just drive down there now and find her by my damn self."

"Well if you didn't need me so much why am I still here?"

I stood, emptying my tea in the sink next to her.

"What the fuck are you mumbling about?"

"I'm not mumbling, sir. And what I mean is, why haven't you put me out by now?"

I scrunched my face, unamused by her humor. It made no sense.

"I'm bout to take you home now."

Silence laved between us much like it did when Asia was around. However, now it was different. I no longer had to hide the fact that I did but didn't know Peaches and neither did she.

I took advantage of her terra-cotta eyes resembling the sharp color of milk in black tea. Her hands clenched onto her sweater. She was still hiding.

I set the dirty china down in the sink beside hers.

She just kept staring. The reticence among us was fatal. I knew it was. Her delicate hands swiped a strand of hair away from her eye and she smiled. I smiled back as she was my mirror.

When I looked at her I saw myself. I saw a representation of me and how I hid from everything. How I longed desperately for something to hold onto and claim. Like a blanket. No matter what, people like us would find whatever it was we were looking for and we would hold onto it.

And I liked that.

"Home. Where Sanaa is, right?" She teased, wrapping her tongue against her pearly teeth.

Our personalities fused that afternoon.

I was rough with her because she was the closest remnant of myself and although it was only temporary I enjoyed not feeling afraid to express that. No blood ties meant no blood, no baggage. We could explore each other like a map and no one could find us.

She was alright with that.

And so was I.

We came together.

She left by her lonesome.

youtube

#jcole #j cole gif #nicki minaj #princessnokia #ff #jfcolefanfic #fanfic #sza fanfic

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shroudingmists · 6 years

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Lockwood, ❛ are you just going to stand there the whole time? ❜

(Bless you for actually finally making me write something with these two–omg. This one will definitely be a bit (edit: oh my god, I went nuts) longer, ‘cause I have the feeling I need to pop in some lore stuff, too. Not that y’all are here for lore stuff, but ‘YANNO.)

——————-

“They still haven’t…?” Amaterasu trailed off, gratefully extending her mug to Cecelia, who poured hot water into it. The clan’s matriarch shook her head, but couldn’t help wear the most shit-eating grin she could manage.

“I mean, it’s kind of cute,” she sighed, her rich voice still thick with sleep. “The respect those two have for one another is…”

“Outstanding,” the Pearlcatcher finished her best friend and leader’s sentence, leaning her cheek–still indented with pillow marks–onto her palm. “You’re right, it is cute. I’m simply curious as to…why, however. It’s not as if I’d ask him, though. I respect the both of them too much for that.”

Cecelia slid onto the bench next to her counterpart with a nod, rolling her shoulders to loosen them. “Do you know that Lockwood has mated with someone from every Flight?”

Amaterasu nearly spat out a mouthful of hot tea, instead choking on it oh so gracefully. Somewhere between a fit of laughter and disbelief, she shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, yes,” Cecelia hummed, amused, curling her bare toes on the floor below. “It’s not that it’s a secret, mind–it’s simply something he doesn’t think much of. But all the travel he did when he was younger? Before he found me? It had a lot of…benefits.”

Amaterasu, blinking both bright blue eyes in surprise, popped her lips. The question lingered, and lingered…

“And yes, there are details. He remembers them all fondly–they apparently meant a great deal to him. Once in a while, he writes letters. It’s good to keep up with the other Flights, after all–we both believe that. And this is another way he does so. Other than correspondence from you Ambassadors, of course,” Cecelia corrected herself, smiling fondly at her dear friend. “I’d never begrudge him that, ever.”

Amaterasu’s cheeks warmed at the expression on Cecelia’s face, and she sighed into her mug. “You two are…amazing. I could never hope to be–”

“You are, and don’t think that you aren’t–please, do not,” the matriarch spoke firmly, but calmly. Rubbing her eye patch calmly with one finger, she nodded. “For setting aside your former beliefs, to allow them to–”

“I was foolish, and childish. But I suppose that happens when you grow up with those beliefs. I saw pairs mated to multiple others, but I always thought it was…forbidden. Secret. Dirty, even,” the linguist hummed, thoughtful with her words. “But when I came here, when I saw the love that they had for each other…when we all spoke, together, about it? My mind was clear.”

“Lots of things change. Or can, really. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” the former Fae hummed, stretching her arms above her head. And then, she tilted her head, motioning to herself with a quick flick of her fingers. “Case in point. But…” she trailed off.

Amaterasu tipped her head, curiously. “…but?”

“Something felt different with him, this morning. When we were doing patrol, he seemed a bit distracted. He’s a little…” she laughed, pursing her soft lips together. “He’s a little, ahem. Antsy, I think.”

“Do you think…soon, then?” the Pearlcatcher whispered, hopefully–perhaps a bit proudly.

Cecelia nodded, and lifted her mug. “Here’s to hoping.”

And when their mugs clicked merrily together, they laughed–heartily–damn near spilling the contents on themselves all over again.

—————————————————–

Sitting at his desk, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, Terrato balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip. It was certainly not like him to zone out so terribly during his work, but…

It seemed that he wasn’t the only one distracted, as of late. And he noticed that he had been, very much so. He wondered why that was, often. He had every need taken care of, or so he believed…so what was missing, that he kept a weather-eye out for? Hm.

Shifting, slightly, he got only a slight warning skid–the already unbalanced chair’s legs tipping out from beneath him. Rearing up with a muffled yelp, there were suddenly hands on his shoulders, the chair once again resting beneath his backside. Heart pounding, pencil abandoned on the floor, he twisted his head around to see…

“Now that’s…a very interesting way to study,” Lockwood laughed, his brilliant green eyes shining in the golden light from the window. “Takes talent, ‘mon,” his accent drawled, sending a rather firm chill down Terrato’s spine. “I hope I didn’t scare you, it wasn’t me intention.”

Terrato shook his head, offering Lockwood a calm smile–even if his heart still pounded. “No, no,” his always-quiet voice whispered. “I’ve just been a bit distracted this morning, I think. Might need a strong cup of Vashon’s coffee, though I’d be up ‘til next morning,” he sighed.

It was then, he realized that the clan leader had waltzed into his room in naught but a towel. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d done it, of course, but this time was…well…

“U–uh, did you…did you get a nice bath? You just got back from patrol, yes?” his voice squeaked out. “D–did it…did it go w–”

But he didn’t have time to finish, the mouth above his suddenly on his. By the Lady of Glade, he could have barely thought before. But now? His eyes fluttered shut, mouth opening without much thought, to let Lockwood’s tongue slide in.

“We’ve…both been distracted, haven’t we?” Lockwood ventured, peppering kisses to his precious mate’s lower lip. It only took a moment until they dappled his chin, making a lazy line down to the side of his neck. “I was thinking about you, this morning. We been…together for a while, right?”

Terrato shivered, managing only a breath of an ‘uh-huh’ as his fingers brushed carefully through his mate’s heavily dreadlocked hair. “It feels like…forever, hasn’t it? Like we…like we knew each other in another life?”

Lockwood’s eyes widened. Terrato flinched, as if he’d said something wrong–but it was because tears had welled into his eyes, and they’d surprised the Guardian greatly. “I–I, uh–I can’t, why am…why am I–?” he startled, rubbing his hand up his cheek frantically. “I? I’m sorry?” the man let the words fall from his lips in a tumble, only to be met with a kiss again.

But, it’s true. Every word of it, the rational portion of his brain sighed in annoyance.

“When…when I saw you out there in the Labyrinth for the first time, you’d been watching me for a while. I be right about that part at least, right?” Lockwood questioned, curiously, brushing his thumb softly across a splash of freckles on that lovely face. When Terrato nodded, he leaned into his palm, and kissed it.

“I thought you’d find it odd, and I couldn’t find the words to express the draw I felt to you,” Terrato sighed, as his mate busied himself with pressing kisses a little more and more urgently to his neck. “The–the sheer–ohhh…” he moaned, a whimper bubbling up behind it. “The sheer calm you exuded, your…grace, the…” the words that normally came so easily were definitely hard to find, with something very noticeable pressing up against his inner leg. His hands floundered a bit, before finding his hips–gripping, carefully.

Not carefully enough, however, that the thin towel that covered Lockwood had any chance at all of staying up. Fluttering to the floor, a wash of heat pooled all the way to the Spiral’s ears.

“…oops.”

Lockwood laughed–loud, booming, causing the smaller man to hide against him. “I didn’t do that on purpose!” he yelped, though a lilt of laughter followed after.

“I mean, it…make it much easier, I guess?” the man whispered against his hair, fingertips tracing his mate’s hipbone. When Terrato finally got the nerve, he peeked down. Blinking, it took a great deal of effort to not let his jaw drop.

A hand slid under his chin, and pulled up.

“Are you just gonna’ stand there the whole time? Or…?” he murmured, even as his mate’s face melded into his large palm again. Oh, he loved it when he did that…

But he loved it even more when he found that he was being nudged backwards, and took the short time until his back hit Terrato’s bed, to undo his pants. Reaching for him, the clan’s historian slid surprisingly easily onto his bare legs–just below his waist. Biting his lip, he seemed to watch in pure fascination. Thinking. The Summoner’s lips pulled into a grin–when he got like this, he was so…beautiful. Stunningly so, even hauntingly so.

“I’ve never been with a man before,” he finally admitted, brushing his fingertips up Lockwood’s length, marveling as he felt it tremble under his touch. “But all I do know is that I—I want you to–” he stumbled again, shoulders a bit tense. “Can I–?”

“Don’t ask, my heart. Do.”

Terrato shuddered. He always knew what to say. And he always knew how to look insanely amazing while saying it, that much was for certain.

Sitting up, he carefully maneuvered himself out of his slacks. It wasn’t as graceful as he’d hoped it would be–given his position–but he was rewarded by a kiss once he’d slipped onto his hands and knees to greet his mate face-to-face. Pursing his lips a bit after he’d kissed him, Terrato dug around beside them for a moment. When he presented Lockwood with a small bottle, he flushed again.

It was half empty, and Lockwood needn’t ask why–but he did anyways: “you been testing it out?”

A little nod, and the Spiral swallowed the lump in his throat. “It was hard, at first, but I…I want to, for you. It’s been, ah. An experience, that’s for sure,” he laughed, trying to lighten the fluttering of his heart.

And when he’d merged back into reality, he realized that it had taken Lockwood exceptionally little time to flip the bottle’s cap open, and apply it liberally to his fingers. Well….well, damn. He’s good. Very good.

It took no words between the two of them, as it hadn’t when they’d first met. He laid on his mate’s chest, breathing in his scent deeply at his neck. The liquid was cool only for a moment, but it still made his breath hitch, especially as a finger pressed into him.

It was so different than when he did it to himself. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but certainly was, especially when he found himself being spread further to accommodate Lockwood’s touch. Arching, he pressed his aching member between their stomachs, breath quickening.

“Relax…just a little more,” the man beneath him soothed, twitching his fingertips inside, getting a good feel for things. “There…much better…” he sighed, rolling his hips slowly, already eager for what he knew was now inevitable. “So…warm…warm like the sun under the leaves…”

Terrato whimpered, rolling eagerly into his touch. Too much…too much, it’s been too long, I can’t…

And he moved without much thought, sitting above Lockwood with a surprisingly eager expression. A mix of a smile, and…coyness? Was he being coy with him? Lady of Glade preserve him.

He was much thicker than his fingers (not that this really surprised him, per se), and it took a moment or so (and a couple deep breaths, for certain) to position things just perfectly. Twining their fingers together, Lockwood’s expression was enough to help him through it…it always would be.

The noises that followed were enough to drive him completely insane–he was sure of it. His soft little moans, his startles, his gasps, everything, could have ended him right then and there. But Lockwood heaved in a breath he realized he hadn’t taken in ages, and arched his hips. I’m…I’m inside him. I’m all the way inside him, I–

“B–big…you’re really big,” Terrato giggled, lovedrunk. Glancing a hand down his own stomach, he drifted his fingertips on the wonderfully soft patch of hair that trailed along it. He couldn’t help envision how far it went in, really, it was…exciting. “All of it…inside…”

Lockwood’s vision dimmed. Or, did it brighten, as more sunlight began leaking in from the horizon? Either way, he was sure that Terrato had a halo gracing his soft, sandy hair. Without second thought, he took his hips in his hands, and moved.

The Spiral made no effort in being quiet, and he loved it.

He loved the way his head tossed as he took pleasure in finding the best spots inside. He loved the way that he rubbed himself, a hand on his cock, one at his sensitive nipple. He loved each and every noise, and their varying pitches.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough–not until his back lifted from the bed. Embracing Terrato, his hips bucked frantically.

When the man was moaning into his shoulder, that…yes…that was it. Clinging desperately to him, he felt his nails running down every inch of his dark skin that he could manage…and he loved that, too.

His legs unfolded like a flower to either side of him, the balls of his feet dug so deeply into the down comforter, that he thought he’d rip right through it. The view was nothing short of spectacular, and he took care to stroke those freckled thighs over and over again. Batting his hand out of the way gently, he stroked Terrato himself, in time with his thrusts.

If no one had heard them before, they’d certainly hear them now–because Lockwood’s voice had joined in Terrato’s chorus of pleasure. He could hardly help it, it was…so freeing. And when he buried his head into his neck, he closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be entirely lost there.

My Terrato. My mate. My life, my heart. Finally, we are…

“L–Lock, I– “

“I know…I know, me too, I…” the Guardian breathed heavily, barely able to catch any air at all. “Together…we gotta’…together…”

Terrato sobbed a moan into his hair, grip growing weaker as his toes picked up the slack to curl even tighter. “Inside me! Please, I–!” he wailed, bucking with such a rhythm that even surprised his mate.

Lockwood’s throat tightened, and he realized he’d begun to purr.

His pupils dilated, heavily, something inside snapping.

With his mouth on Terrato’s neck, he marked him without second thought. Both with a bruise the size of the Behemoth, and inside alike–coming with a muffled growl of pleasure. Especially since he had gotten his wish: a splash of fluid between their stomachs, that made his body pulse deliciously over and over again.

Terrato’s eyes were wide above, entire body trembling as he clung desperately to Lockwood’s entire head.

He’s…he’s still purring…and–and he? Oh…oh, my sweet Glade Lady. How…? How was this–?

“Terrato…” Lockwood strained, barely able to find his voice. It may have been a little bit harder, due to his face being crushed against his mate’s slender chest…but that was beside the point. When he finally felt his grip loosen, he gazed upward into the surprised face above.

Without a word, he leaned up, and rubbed his own against it.

He scented him without second thought, thick eyelashes fluttering each time he dipped in again. His mate leaned into each and every touch, whimpering. He knew what it was, they both did, and there was no denying it–not now.

“…proxy?” Terrato whispered, kissing Lockwood’s forehead.

“Yes–yes, I think so,” the Guardian sighed, pressing his face over and over again into that beautiful freckled skin. “I should’ve known…I should’ve…”

“Shhh. We know now. That’s all that matters, right…?”

Lockwood peered up. Swallowing, he extended his hand, as was ritual.

Without hesitation, it was taken, and their fingers twined.

“…I accept you, Lockwood, Druid of the Mists, as my Guardian. From this moment on, and for all time. May I be worthy as a Charge, may I guide you, as you protect me. May we be together, bonded, into eternity. As I know you in this life, may I find you in the next,” Terrato’s words quivered, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

Those words, he’d heard from so many clan members. He’d heard them countless times, and now he…

Lockwood bowed his head, kissing the hand in his own.

“May I protect you, and may you guide me as you will. May me scales be your armor, and me words be your comfort. May I be with you until our last days. May our final breaths be breathed as one, and may our hearts meld into the Labyrinth…forever…”

The last word escaped strained, tears falling hotly from his lovely green eyes. Words he’d spoken before, with Cecelia. And he’d meant every one of them, just as he had now.

Terrato threw his arms around him again, and burrowed tightly. “I love you, Lockwood. I love you..so much…”

Lockwood squeezed around his shoulders and chest, shivering. “Love you more.”

—————————————————–

The day passed, from morning until night, without their appearance into the clan’s daily life.

No one questioned this, but everyone certainly celebrated it.

And when they finally emerged to the nightly bonfire, they found the entire clan waiting for them this time. The Fireflies were already dancing, and mead flowed freely from casks that Iavor had hauled out into the clan grounds.

Everyone….

Lockwood and Terrato glanced at one another…and laughed.

“I–I guess they heard us,” Terrato sputtered. Despite this, he took Lockwood’s hand in his own, firmly. And together, they walked as one.

Cecelia’s single eye shone freely with tears of pride.

Amaterasu, holding onto her arm, beamed brightly.

And they greeted their mates into their arms, arms interlinking into one solid embrace.

Finally…

#'Rah Tag #The Clan in the Mists #C: Lockwood #C: Terrato #C: Cecelia #C: Amaterasu #SCREAMS LOUDLY INTO THE AIR #HOOOLY CRAAAAP THEY DID IIIT!!#HOOOOLY GOOOOD FIVE YEEEARS!!

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imjustthemechanic · 6 years

Text

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip

Off to Canada to look for Loki!

They’d only gone a few yards up the road. Nat stopped and backed up. Steve was worried Downey would try to run, but instead he came to meet them. Nat opened the door for him.

“Have you come to your senses?” he asked.

Natasha extended a hand. Downey took it and climbed in, and as soon as he shut the door, Nat pressed the button to lock all four. While their newly-acquired prisoner was still reacting to that, she snatched his phone and tossed it to Steve – then she hit the gas, heading east again.

“Hey!” Downey protested. “Now what are you doing?”

“We can’t let you call the police,” Nat explained calmly.

“I wasn’t calling the police! I was texting Susan!”

Steve checked the phone in his hands. The open app was indeed a text conversation with ‘Susan’, most of which seemed to consist of sweet nothings and heart-eyed cat emojis. At the very bottom, Downey had begun to type a new message: ChrisE and ScarJo stole the van. I’m gonna…

“It does say Susan,” he confirmed.

“Who is Susan?” Nat asked.

“You know Susan,” Downey protested. “She’s my wife!”

“Is she Pepper?” asked Steve. “I mean, is she the actress who plays Pepper?” That seemed a natural conclusion to come to. He couldn’t imagine Stark marrying anyone but Pepper Potts regardless of what universe it happened in.

“What? No. Gwyneth Paltrow is Pepper,” said Downey.

They passed Pepperdine University, where the road divided in two. To get to Los Angeles, they would have had to take the right fork and continue down the coast. Nat took the left one, heading inland to the mountains.

“Uh… where do you think you’re going?” asked Downey.

“Canada, of course,” said Natasha. “You said that’s where Loki is.”

Downey’s phone rang. “That’ll be her,” he said.

Sure enough, when Steve checked the phone identified the caller as ‘Susan’. He connected the call and said, “hello?”

“Hello?” asked the voice that must be Mrs. Downey. “Is this Chris?”

“Yes,” Steve said. “Yes, this is Chris.” He hoped it sounded convincing to her.

It must have, because she didn’t question it. “Is Bob bringing you back to our place?”

“No, he’s not,” said Steve.

Downey turned in his seat to reach back. “Let me talk to her!” he said. “Susan! Can you hear me?”

“Tell Bob not to talk on the phone while he’s driving,” said Susan.

“She says…” Steve began.

“I’m not driving!” Downey held out a hand. “Please?” he asked. “Please?” His eyes were huge and pleading. It was an expression Steve had seen on Stark, but only when he was talking to either Pepper or Colonel Rhodes. “I won’t tell her,” he whispered, “I promise. Just please.” His voice rose to a more normal level. “Let me talk to her.”

He looked like a puppy who wanted a hug. Somewhat against his better judgment, Steve gave him the phone.

“Susan!” Downey said, putting it to his ear. “I’m so glad you called.”

Nat caught Steve’s eye in the mirror and glared at him. The message was clear that if this went horribly wrong too, she was holding him responsible.

“Just listen, honey,” said Downey, holding the phone to his right ear and leaning away from Natasha, as if afraid she would grab it from him again at any moment. “Chris and Scarlett have sort of kidnapped me.”

He was silent for a moment while his wife said something.

“Well, they’re not actually going to hurt me, and they don’t need to ransom me off, so yeah, only sort of,” Downey said. “I think they’re planning to plead insanity so they’re trying to convince me they’ve lost their minds. It’s actually working pretty well so far.”

Steve undid his seat belt and tensed his legs, prepared to stand up and snatch the phone back if he had to. Downey glanced back at him, and held up a hand to tell him to stop.

“No, don’t call anybody,” he told Susan. “It’ll all work itself out – they say they’re going to Canada but that won’t work, so I’ll see what they’re up to and probably be home in a few hours. Tell the kids Dad had some Iron Man stuff to do or something. Okay. I love you. Sleep tight.” He disconnected and handed the phone back to Steve. “There. That’s all I wanted – so she wouldn’t worry about me.”

Steve was startled. Even knowing that this wasn’t Stark – and that was getting clearer and clearer with every word out of the man’s mouth – telling his wife not to call the police because ‘Chris and Scarlett’ wouldn’t hurt him was an awfully trusting thing for Downey to do. Now that he’d expressed that trust, furthermore, Steve would find it awfully hard to betray… maybe Downey knew that. Or maybe, as the guy who’d played Tony Stark, he should have known better.

“All right.” Downey folded his arms across his chest. “Whatever this is, whether it’s a publicity stunt or a practical joke or the aliens from Galaxy Quest, I’ll ride along as far as it goes and see what happens. I don’t think you’ll get in to Canada, though.”

For a moment Steve wasn’t sure what he was talking about – Canada was not exactly an impenetrable fortress of a country. Then he remembered, “the terms of our bail were don’t leave California, weren’t they?” Not allowed into the United States in one reality, not allowed out in the next. Everybody loved placing restrictions on him.

“You really think that’ll be a problem?” asked Nat with a bit of a smile.

“Probably not,” said Steve.

They crossed the border into Nevada with no trouble, which definitely surprised Downey, and passed through Vegas before heading on into Utah. Steve dozed in the back seat until Nat woke him up near the border of Idaho and told him to take a turn driving. She was yawning as she crawled into the back to curl up, and Steve realized he couldn’t remember ever seeing her sleepy before. Natasha was like him – she could sleep anywhere and wake up alert and ready to go for as long as she needed to. She got tired, but not sleepy. It seemed like she, too, was feeling the effects of being… well, a little more human than usua.

Downey paid for gas and snacks, and they got back on the road.

Shortly after they’d entered Montana, with the sun coming up and Natasha still snoring in the back seat, Downey asked, “were you two already in some kind of trouble? Is that what this is?” He was worried again now. “And now you’re trying to get out of the country?”

“We told you what happened,” said Steve.

Downey scowled again. “You can’t ask me to believe you really think that.”

“Why would we tell you something like that if it wasn’t true?” Steve tried.

“Hell if I know,” Downey said. “Maybe you’ve been reading too many internet posts with that joke about how Marvel grow their characters in tubes of blue goo like something out of Avatar.”

Steve turned to look at him with a concerned frown. “Do people actually believe that?” he asked. Maybe that was how this universe really worked. Maybe Chris Evans looked exactly like Steve because he was… who knew? A clone, perhaps. Or something worse.

“There are people who believe JonBenet’s parents faked her death and she grew up to be Katy Perry,” said Downey, “so yeah, there probably are, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. You understand that, right?” He sounded like he wasn’t sure Steve did. “You’re not anybody’s science experiment. You have parents who are probably wondering what the hell you’re doing right now.”

Parents. Steve hadn’t thought about that, but it was true – this Chris Evans must have a mother and father. If they were still alive and they met Steve, they would probably think he was their son. Would Mrs. Evans drape a blanket around his shoulders and make him a cup of tea, the way his own mother used to? Would her husband smile at Steve and tell him he was proud of him, the way Steve had always wished his father would?

Their numbers were probably in Evan’s phone, which suddenly felt very heavy in Steve’s pocket. He could call them and find out.

Rather than do so, however, Steve pulled the phone out of his pocket and reached back to drop it on the floor in the back, where it would be difficult for him to retrieve. The idea, however, lingered, like electricity crackling on the back of his neck. Suddenly Steve understood, on a very visceral level, just why Natasha had insisted on going to Johansson’s house. Having even the illusion of something you wanted so very badly, dangling in front of you like that, was the stuff of parables. It was so easy to tell himself that it would do no harm to just call – but then, Nat had probably thought it would do no harm to just read Rosie a story, to just pretend for five minutes, and he’d seen what had happened then. No, he could not call Evans’ parents. Definitely not.

“Evans has parents,” said Steve. “Mine died a long time ago.”

Downey groaned and rubbed his forehead. “You’re getting really close to convincing me, and you don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“Because if I believe that you believe you’re actually Captain America, I’m gonna have to have you committed,” Downey said.

It was almost exactly twenty-four hours since Downey had bailed them out of jail when Natasha, back in the driver’s seat, pulled to a stop in the parking lot at Calgary International Airport. Downey had nodded off, himself, and had missed seeing how Nat got them into Canada. This was probably all for the best – as she’d predicted, it hadn’t been a problem. At the airport they got a cheap motel room where they could all shower and change their clothes, and then they went to the arrivals gate to meet Thor’s flight from Australia.

They all looked slightly ridiculous and not very superheroic, dressed as they were in whatever souvenir clothes the shops in the airport had been offering for sale. Thor walked in wearing camo-print shorts, a white t-shirt, a pair of ray-bans, and wheeling a little hard-sided suitcase with Hello Kitty on it, but the effect was the same as it had been when he’d tried dressing down in Oslo. No matter what he was wearing, he still walked and talked like the God of Thunder.

“Friends!” Thor said, and gathered Steve, Natasha, and Downey all up in one hug. Chris Hemsworth was not as immense as the real Thor, but he was still a very large man with bulging arms that could encompass all three of them. “It delights my heart to see familiar faces!”

“Good to see you, too, Thor,” Steve managed, with what little air the demigod’s hug left him.

“That includes you, Robert Downey Junior!” Thor added, stepping back to take a look at the unwilling third member of their party. “I have entertained myself on the flight by reading about our counterparts’ lives and work. Your recovery from your lowest point was truly heroic, as is your dedication to make sure others do not suffer as you did!”

“Thanks,” said Downey, a little dazed. “That’s how I got into this, as a matter of fact.” He gave Steve and Nat a sidelong look.

“I am famished after my journey,” Thor said, “but the young gentleman seated next to me told me of a man named Tim Horton who makes the finest dough-nuts in Midgard. I would like to taste them, and then perhaps we can learn more of this convention Loki is to be appearing at.”

The airport was offering a number of brochures for things to do in the city, which included an ad for the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo, beginning that day at the Roundup Centre convention hall. While Thor tried several flavours of Tim Horton’s donuts, Steve slipped through the guest list.

“Here he is!” he said. “Tom Hiddleston, of Marvel’s Thor and Kong: Skull Island!” Then he looked at the picture, and did a double-take at the sight of the smiling blond man in glasses. “It doesn’t even look like him.”

Natasha leaned to look. “No, he’s got the nose,” she said.

“I would not take him for my brother, nose or no,” Thor said. “It has been a long time since I saw Loki smile so warmly.”

“Do we have to worry about running into anybody else we know?” Natasha asked. “Or think we know?”

Downey was sitting next to Steve, eating a grilled bacon and cheese sandwich. He jabbed his finger at a picture of a woman with long, straight dark hair, identified by the caption as Jennifer Connelly, of Jim Henson’s Labyrinth. “We might see Paul,” he said, “but I doubt any of you would recognize him.”

“Who’s Paul?” asked Nat.

“Never mind,” said Downey. “Actually, if we do meet him, I want to see if you can figure it out for yourselves.”

Steve wondered if that meant he believed them now. More likely he was just seeing how far they’d take the joke. Steve turned the page to look at the rest of the guests, and saw pictures that promised actors from Westworld and Once Upon a Time. Then he turned another page, and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Meet the cast of Marvel’s Agent Carter.

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov #thor

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