#someone said *the foreseeable future* to me while I was working in lab last week

[ampmiscfiles]

Let Us Love You: Chapter 9

Start From The Beginning

Sam checked in with FRIDAY before entering the elevator. Ever since his tentative...whatever....with Peter had started, he had been taking extra care to avoideveryonewhen leaving and reentering the tower whenever he saw him. While blockers kept an individual smells hidden from random  people, there had been cases of mates sometimes being able to pick up hints of each other's smells anyway. Since Sam was a beta, Peter's scent never meant anything to him, and he hadn't even smelt anything from him lately. Hoever, with two super soldiers with enhanced senses in the tower, Sam didn't want to chance the lack of scent just being him. He had made a promise to keep their interactions secret, and he intended to keep it.

The two were slowly getting to know each other. For Sam, everything about Peter was new, but for Peter, it more so a game of similarities and differences.

Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying getting to know him. Peter was a genuinely good person, and if things every worked out between him and the others, he could be a valuable asset to the team.

The public sure seemed to love him.

Something that seemed to amuse Peter greatly for some odd reason.

Still, Sam avoided talking about his fellow teammates like the plague. He desperately wanted to ask more about Peter's past with the, rightfully dubbed, "Evil Avengers", but didn't want to overstep.

“Dr. Banner has entered the common area.” FRIDAY answered.

“Ok. Bruce is clear.” Sam replied.

Bruce was probably the only person in the tower he didn’t have to worry about. There was no way he’d pick up on Peter’s scent, nor would it even matter since he was a beta and not romantically interested in Peter.

Also, he was the only other person in the tower Peter seemed comfortable talking about.

Peter had held a lot of respect for the Bruce Banner of his world. So much so that Sam had taken up teasing him about being a Bruce Banner fan boy.

Interesting enough, Peter seemed to be an even bigger fan boy here.

The Bruce Banner of his world lost a lot of his freedoms and abilities to do research after the Avengers turned and trapped him, so eventually Peter had run out of research papers to read.

Here though, here Bruce was continuing to put out papers, and Peter was consuming them at an alarming rate.

Maybe he could bring Bruce to meet Peter one night.

Bruce had displayed plenty of interest in getting to talk to Peter, and Peter had definitely displayed his own.

Yeah, maybe Peter wouldn’t hate him if he brought Bruce.

“Hey, Bru-“ Sam’s greeting stopped short as a very disgruntled Bruce Banner lay on one of the couches, taking deep breaths.

“Uh…everything ok?”

“If by ok you mean I won’t Hulk out, then you should know I’m straddling a thin line right now. I can’t go back to the lab or the line will break.” Bruce huffed.

Sam grimaced at Bruce’s obvious efforts to calm himself were only marginally working.

“We’ll, I’m going out. Wanna join me? Maybe getting out of here will help?”

Bruce paused, lifting his head to look at Sam. The green tint to his eyes started to fade as he considered the option.

“You know, maybe that’s a good idea.”

Sam grinned as Bruce stood up.

Peter was gonna freak, and hopefully in a good way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When did you start coming here?” Bruce asked. “It’s a bit out of the way for us.”

“It’s what I needed. With the raging alpha hormones, I wanted to be as far away as possible.” Sam sighed before smirking.

“Plus, I get a little private bonus for coming here.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he followed Sam into the rowdy bar.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Bruce frowned, uncomfortable with all the people.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be clearing out soon.”

Bruce continued to frown, but followed Sam to the bar anyway. As they sat down, a muscular black man stood in front of them. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight on Bruce.

“Taking a real chance there, Wilson.”

Bruce looked up as Luke Cage moved in front of them.

“I’m aware.” Sam nodded. “But I’m pretty confident it’s gonna be fine.”

The man shrugged before setting Sam’s usual down and asking what Bruce wanted.

“Just water please, I’m not really a drinker.” Bruce winced.

“Strange to come to a bar for water, but to each their own, Banner.”

“I didn't know you ran a bar.”

“It's pretty low key. Mostly just known here in the Kitchen. Anyway, when you come back, leave Wilson at home next time.”

Sam choked on his drink as Luke laughed, moving on down the bar after giving Bruce his water.

“Jerk.” Sam muttered, no bite to his words.

“How long have you been coming here?” Bruce asked.

“About a month or so now. Couple of nights a week depending on certain factors."

“How have we not noticed you’ve been going out so much?” Bruce asked.

"Well, in your defense Bruce, you're usually tied up in some sort of research and buried in the lab."

"Don't talk about the lab." Bruce grunted. "That is a terrible subject at the moment."

"That's only raising my curiosity."

Bruce huffed as he took a sip of his water.

"Let's just say that Tony is in big trouble for the foreseeable future."

Sam laughed as he patted Bruce on the back.

"Just let me and Clint know what we need to do for you. Clint's been dying to have a go at Tony since he rigged one of his arrows with confetti during training."

The two continued talking, Sam occasionally taking note of the fact the crowd was thinning out quickly. As it neared the time Peter would most likely come from the back, Sam turned to Bruce with a serious expression.

"I'm gonna tell you something Bruce, but you've gotta keep it a secret."

"Is this something that could get us in some sort of trouble?" Bruce asked wearily.

"......no? Maybe? Probably? Yeah, definitely." Sam shrugged with a smile. "But if it makes you feel better, you'll be getting an immeasurable up on Tony."

Bruce raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Okay.....what's the big secret?"

"The drinks and distance from the tower aren't the only reasons I come here."

"Are you seeing someone Sam?" Bruce asked. "You know you don't have to keep it a secret from us."

"Oh, I'm 'seeing' someone alright, and I do have to keep it a secret and now you will too."

"Why-"

"Hey Sam!"

Bruce's head snapped up in surprise as a smiling Peter Parker walked over, clearly not noticing Bruce's presence.

"Hey, Pete." Sam smiled nervously. "I..um...hope you don't mind that I brought a friend? I told him the rule of meeting you."

Peter frowned as his eyes moved to the person next to Sam, then choked on air.

"D-Dr Banner!" Peter gasped.

Bruce just looked between Peter and Sam in shock, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. How had Sam managed to get close to Peter without anyone knowing?

"H-hi." Bruce stumbled, holding out his hand and praying he wasn't going to have to kill Sam.

He knew how protective the Defenders could be when it came to Peter, and he had no desire to have trouble.

Peter stared a moment before grasped his outstretched hand and began shaking it excitedly.

"I know I should be upset and throw you out Sam, but I'm to busy having a mental freakout at the fact I'm meeting Dr. Banner properly as opposed to when he rescued me from prison."

"Y-yeah." Bruce grimaced at the memory of the last time he had physically seen Peter. "I didn't know they were gonna do that...."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that." Peter smirked, pulling back his hand. "I've never seen someone look so...done with people."

"We may be a pack," Bruce sighed. "But I know stupid when I see it."

Peter laughed as Bruce ran his hand down his face.

"If you have time Dr. Banner, I'd love to get to talk to you. I have so many questions about your work. I've been pouring through your research papers and I've wanted to pick your brain so bad!"

Bruce blinked in surprise at Peter's eager face.

"Careful Bruce," Sam grinned. "Peter's a total fanboy."

"I'm not ashamed to admit that, Wilson." Peter scoffed.

"Well," Bruce said slowly, unsure how Peter would take what he was about to say. "I can't deny I've been wanting to talk to you either. I'm fascinated by your abilities. I mean, I've seen videos of you getting hurt pretty badly, then be out the very next day seemingly fine."

"Tell you what, Dr. Banner." Peter grinned. "We close in a bit. If you guys aren't looking to leave soon, maybe we can talk more. I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Deal." Bruce smiled.

Sam smiled in satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair. He had been nervous to bring Bruce. He didn't know how Peter would handle it. Despite the fact Peter knew Bruce was a beta, and uninterested in the dynamics that came between alphas and omegas, he was still a part of the pack. Looking at him now though, he knew he had definitely made the right call by bringing Bruce. Peter got to fanboy over the one Avenger he had even seemed remotely okay with from the beginning and gain a new friend, not to mention Bruce finally had someone other than Tony to talk science with.

Speaking of Tony, he still wanted to know what the man had done to nearly cause Bruce to lose it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was after Luke and Peter closed down the bar that Sam finally got his answer. Peter's praise of Bruce's work ultimately led to Bruce admitting what happened between him and Tony.

He blew up half the lab!" Bruce growled. "Four months of my research gone in a few seconds!"

Peter gasped in outrage.

"Four months worth?" he shouted. 'What was he doing?

"I don't even know!" Bruce groaned. "One minute everything was fine and then the next, half the lab was on fire!"

Sam struggled to hold his laughter in. He hated Bruce lost his research, but Tony was gonna have to fork out some major money to fix the area, and do some major groveling to earn Bruce's forgiveness.

For once, Sam wished he and Bruce could tell the others about meeting up with Peter. That would really stick it to Tony if Bruce could let that little gem slip.

"I'm really sorry about that Dr. Banner." Peter frowned. "I would be furious too. I'm saddened at the loss of, what I'm sure, was something amazing."

"Not much I can do about it now." Bruce sighed in defeat. 'I'll just have to start over and please, Peter, call me Bruce."

"Wow. Ok, Bruce! I wish I could help." Peter said dreamily. "I'd love the chance to say I got to work with Dr. Bruce Banner!"

"Hey! What about the fact you get to be friends with The Falcon?" Sam huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm pretty cool to, you know."

"Sure, sure, Sam." Peter smirked, waving Sam off.

"I can't believe this. Here I bring you your man crush, Banner, and this is how you repay me?"

Peter laughed, ignoring Sam's disgruntled muttering as he turned back to Bruce.

"So, you have questions for me?"

"Y-yes! If you don't mind talking about your abilities that is."

"No, it's ok." Peter smiled. "To be honest, I've never really gotten the opportunity to study myself on a molecular level. I can tell you everything I can do, and the fact I've noticed myself acting spider like at times." A slight blush rose to Peter's cheeks at that admission.

"Oh, what's with the blush Parker?" Sam grinned, leaning forward.

"N-nothing!" Peter answered quickly.

"No. I refuse to ignore this. Again, I brought Banner! Let's hear it."

Peter sighed, taking a sip of the coke he had.

"I....I was pretty....pretty turned on once by a woman I knew. She was pulling a con at a strip club. I went to catch her and she caught me in the audience and....her dance.....well.....you know, there are species of spiders that are seduced by...dancing? I don't exactly know what the spider that bit me was.....but I know it was genetically altered...possibly even crossbred-"

"Wait! Are you telling me this woman danced her way into your pants?" Sam snickered as Peter's face turned red.

"I couldn't help it! I was practically in a trance! But no, we didn't get that far. The Avengers attacked the club before I could get her alone. I'm not sure how it would have gone if I did."

"That's....that's something." Bruce stumbled. "Not to be a downer Peter, but you should probably keep an eye on that."

"Yeah," Peter puffed out. "Not exactly good to be an omega getting horny just by watching someone dance for them."

"You a horn dog for dancers now, Jones?"

The three men's heads shot up as a smirking Jessica Jones pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Jones?" Bruce asked, looking at Peter.

"Yeah," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't exactly be Peter Parker here. So I'm-"

"My lesser good looking cousin." Jessica cackled.

"How have you not told me this yet?" Sam asked, shooting Peter a pointed look.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"My last name is Jones now."

"I hate you."

Peter laughed as Jessica turned to Bruce.

"Luke told me Peter had been meeting up with Wilson here, but how'd you get drug into this?"

"I almost lost control at the tower when Tony blew up my research." Bruce deadpanned.

Jessica blinked at him, silent for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"I bet Stark was shitting his pants!"

"He disappeared pretty quickly." Bruce sighed.

"Well, I hate to break up the party, but we've got plans. Come on you two." Luke said, strolling up to the table and pointing at Peter and Jessica.

"Matt just called, Karen's on her way to the hospital. Looks like the kid is making an early appearance."

Peter and Jessica jumped up, scooping up the glasses on the table and putting them behind the bar for clean up tomorrow.

"Give the happy couple our best, Pete." Sam smiled, following the trio out the door.

"I will. Dr. Banner, it was an honor to officially meet you! Please come back. You don't have to bring Sam." Peter said, shaking Bruce's hand with a grin.

"You keep talking and neither one of us are coming back." Sam said, crossing his arms.

"I'd be so devastated at the loss of your presence." Peter said flatly.

"You would be. I'm great company, you ass."

Peter grinned, making to respond before Luke cut in.

"Cut the chit chat, Jones, we gotta go."

"Coming! Well, later guys! I got a nephew to meet!"

"Nephew?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be 'Uncle Peter' whether Matt agrees or not. It was already approved by Karen. Anyway, later! Thanks for breaking the code, Sam! I can forgive you because you brought Dr. Banner!"

"Call me Bruce!" Bruce shouted as Peter ran off with a wave.

Once he was out of sight, Bruce spun to Sam with wide eyes.

"How could you be seeing Peter behind everyone's backs! If they found out, they'd kill you!"

"It was a complete accident I found him." Sam said, holding up his hands in defense. "I was just wanting a drinking hole far from the tower. I knew this was Luke's place so I stopped in. I had no idea Peter was working here part time."

"Are you not worried about his blockers failing? We don't exactly pick up on any omega or alpha scents like they do."

"I just have FRIDAY let me know where everyone is when I get back and I go straight to the shower and then run my clothes under the water before burying them in the laundry. Even if Steve and Buck enter my room, there's no smell to pick up."

"Wow." Bruce said, letting out a breath. "Have you ever gotten as close to Peter as you did tonight? I mean, was there always the bar between you?"

"Yeah, so we're gonna have to be a little more careful tonight. It's pretty late though, so everyone should be asleep. Not that I think anyone would be approaching you considering the fact that, by now, I'm sure everyone's heard there was an accident in the lab."

"Don't remind me." Bruce groaned. "Now I have to wait for Tony to rebuild before I can even restart my work."

The two walked to where Sam had parked, sliding into the seats before Bruce spoke again.

"Do you think I could ever get Peter to the lab? He said he wanted to work with me, and I could catch up a lot faster with a mind like his."

"I think you know the answer to that, Bruce. Peter's not going anywhere near the tower."

"Yeah." Bruce frowned. "It was just a thought."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you really ok with Wilson having brought Banner?" Jessica asked, turning around in the front seat to look back at Peter.

"Well, I don't have much of an option now, but yeah. Bruce wasn't a bad guy in my world. He's the only Avenger I don't have a problem with. He was just as much a victim as everyone else."

"You don't think he'll spill to the others?"

"Honestly, no. He helped me leave the tower that time, plus Sam told him the deal, and Sam's yet to rat me out."

"As far as you know." Luke said, looking the the rearview. "I'm not saying I don't trust Wilson. To tell the truth, I don't think he'd tell them, unless he didn't have a choice. Just be careful, kid."

The car was silent the rest of the way to the hospital. Each person lost in thought.

"Well, here we are kids." Jessica said as they pulled into the parking lot. "Is Rand here?"

"Yeah, he's how called. He was with Matt when Karen went into labor."

"He better not think he's holding the baby before me." Peter huffed, climbing out the back.

"Relax, 'Uncle Peter', we all know the pecking order." Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm after you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny met them as they got out the elevator.

"Karen's still in delivery. I've never seen Matt as serious as he was when Karen called, and that's saying something given his general demeanor when he's out." he grinned.

"Devil Dad Mode activated." Peter laughed.

"He's gonna be such a pain." Jessica grumbled.

"He's not hitting the field any time soon." Luke said, crossing his arms. "He wonn't be in any mental state to be of any use."

"No new parent-"

"No, Pete." Danny said, cutting him off. "I'm sure parents were protective in your world, but this is a completely different deal. Alphas are fiercely protective of their babies and omegas. Karen's comfort level with you and us was the only reason Matt was as calm as he was during Karen's pregnancy. He knew he could count on us. This though, this will be different. If Matt even lets us in the room."

Peter frowned. It seemed like he was constantly learning something new.

"So you mean, we came here for nothing?"

"No, we came here as support. Even if Matt doesn't let us in, knowing we were here will mean something to both him and Karen."

"I'll never get to hold my nephew!" Peter pouted, throwing himself into a chair and crossing his arms. "I didn't have any siblings, so this is as close as I'm gonna get."

"Relax, drama queen." Jessica said, falling into the seat next to him. "You'll get your chance eventually."

"This world is stupid. All these hormones are on my nerves."

"Oh?" Jessica smirked. "Just wait till you get back there and those omega instincts you try to keep buried kick in."

"What?"

"You telling us you haven't felt even the slightest bit overprotective of Karen?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, we all know you and her haven't exactly been getting along with her encouraging you to get to know the Avengers, and yet you still go over to Matt's apartment and sit with her whenever you're not working. Hell, you've even had her come stay the night at your place when Matt's gone out for a long night."

"So? Friends don't always have to get along you know." Peter scoffed.

"No, but don't sit there and deny you've gotten over a lot with Karen faster than normal during her pregnancy." Danny smirked.

"That has nothing to do with anything other than not wanting to stress her out!"

"Well, you didn't see any of us throwing the offer out." Jessica grinned smugly.

"None of that has anything to do with my stupid omega status. I would have done that regardless. Karen and Matt are my friends."

"Sure, Pete." Three voice said at once.

"I hate all of you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce fidgeted as they got closer to the tower.

"You gotta calm down man. At this rate your nerves will be picked up more than anything else." Sam warned.

"I'm just not in any mood to be discovered. I wanna be able to meet with Peter again."

"I've been doing this long enough, Bruce. Just do what I told you. I'll get us to the rooms, you go shower and rinse out your clothes." Sam soothed, not at all worried about being found out.

As he turned to pull into the parking garage, he slammed on the breaks. Standing in the open was a disappointed Steve and a guilty looking Tony.

"What are they doing here?" Bruce asked, eyes wide.

"Well, judging by Steve's face, I'm pretty sure you're about to get a rare Tony Stark apology."

"You think Steve will smell anything? I mean, could we be over estimating him and Bucky? I mean, Peter was wearing his blockers and there are a lotof other smells in the bar...Jessica! She sat at the table with us! If we smell like anyone, we'd smell like her!" Bruce said, panic leaking through.

"Hang on, Bruce."

"Wha-"

Bruce cut off as Sam threw the car into reverse and sped through the parking garage backwards.

"What are you doing!" Bruce shouted, gripping the dashboard with white knuckles.

"I think I'd like to joyride a little longer." Sam said, flying out the the garage and spinning out onto the street.

"There could have been people coming!"

"This is the back of the tower. If someone was coming through here I'd have questions." Sam replied, merging into traffic.

The two were silent as they calmed their racing hearts.

"Sam-"

The two jumped as Sams phone starting ringing, Steve's name flashing across the screen.

"What are we gonna tell them?" Bruce groaned.

"Easy." Sam smirked. "That you weren't quite ready to deal with Tony yet."

"Well, at least we have a chance of them believing that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony and Steve stood in the garage, stunned as they watched Sam peel out of the parking lot, backwards.

"You saw that too, right Capsicle?" Tony asked.

"Yeah." Steve replied, flabbergasted. "I didn't even know Sam could drive like that."

"So, does this mean I don't have to issue Brucie Bear that apology?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter smiled widely as he pushed open the door to Karen's room. From where he stood, he could see Matt hovering over Karen and the baby like the overprotective alpha he was.

"Hey, Peter." Karen smiled, looking up at him.

"Did you all fight for entry order?" Matt asked, lifting his head.

"They can fight." Peter shrugged. "But I was always gonna be first."

Karen chuckled, motioning for him to come closer.

Peter moved to the side of the bed, surprised by the lack of aggression from Matt that the others had warned him about.

"You're an omega Peter, you're non-threatening to an alpha and their omega and pup."

"I could be threatening." Peter pouted.

Matt scoffed.

"Please, Pete. You've damn near matched me in worry and protectiveness at times."

"I'm intimidation!"

"You're adorable. Now get over here and meet your nephew." Karen giggled.

"He's not an uncle." Matt said flatly.

"You're right." Peter nodded. "I'm not an uncle, I'm the uncle!"

Matt snorted before giving a smirk and turning back to Karen and the baby.

"So, what can I call this little guy?"

"Jack. Jack Murdock." Karen said, running a finger down the baby's chubby cheek.

Peter's eyes snapped up to Matt. He knew Matt's dad had went by the nickname "Jack" before being murdered by a sleazy mobster for refusing to take a dive during a boxing match.

At least, the Matt's dad of his world had.

Matt gave a small nod before running a finger down Jack's face

"Want to hold him?"

Peter looked up in surprise, eyes darting from Karen to Matt.

"Pick the pup up, Parker." Matt grunted.

Peter grinned as he carefully lifted Jack out of Karen's arms.

"Hey, Jack, I'm your Uncle Peter. You're lucky that I happen to have had the best of the best uncle role models to learn from. My Uncle Ben helped raise me. He's a big part of who I am today. I hope to be even half as good of an uncle to you as he was to me."

As Peter carried on talking to their pup, Karen watched them. Peter was a natural with kids apparently. She had a suspicion that it had nothing to do with his omega status either.

She let out a little breath as she made up her mind. She wouldn't push Peter any more after today. She had heard that he had started up a tentative friendship with Sam Wilson, so she decided to back off and let him come to her whenever he had questions. Peter was an adult, and she had a pup to take care of. She had to let go of worrying about Peter.

"Deep thoughts?" Matt asked her.

"Just thoughts." Karen smiled, leaning in to Matt's touches as he ran his fingers through her hair.

After a little while of talking to Jack as though he understood everything coming out of his mouth, Peter was forced to give the little pup back to Karen as he began to get a little fussy.

"Time to eat, huh?" Karen giggled, positioning herself.

"I'll leave you both to it." Peter said, backing towards the door to given Karen her privacy.

"Hey, Pete." Matt said, voice tight.

"Yeah?"

"Tell the others no more visitors tonight."

"You got it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So let me get this straight," Jessica started with narrowed eyes. "You get to go in and have baby time, but we are getting sent home?"

"I thought you were expecting that?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up."

"Relax Pete," Danny smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. "We did expect it."

"Matt can be salty even on the best days." Luke smirked.

"I'm gonna get my hands on that pup soon." Jessica nodded, face determined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, watching as buildings went by.

"I have no idea." Sam sighed. "I was just driving."

"How long should we stay away you think?"

"Well, considering the state of the lab, Tony's got no choice but to actually sleep tonight, so probably not much longer."

Bruce's head fell back against the headrest as Sam turned down a road and started making the return trip towards the tower. As frustrating as have to avoid Tony as Steve was, Bruce wouldn't deny he was happy to have gotten to talk to Peter. There was so much he wanted to ask, but he didn't know what to say and not say. There were a few times he had caught Peter looking at him as though he weren't really seeing him.

"Thinking hard doc?" Sam grinned.

"What happened to me in Peter's world?"

Silence filled the car as Bruce waited.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just the way Peter acted sometimes when I talked."

Sam sighed and rubbed his chin.

"Peter...he uh....he has an extremely soft spot for you...maybe even more than the copies of me and Bucky, and they were his best friends!"

"Why?"

"He felt sorry for you."

Bruce blinked in surprise as Sam gripped the steering wheel.

"What made him feel sorry for the me of his world?"

"He said.....he said you weren't really with the Avengers. He said they kept you prisoner, only letting you out when they needed Hulk. He respected your research and hated what they did to you."

Bruce was quiet as he turned to watch the city pass. The Bruce of Peter's world had had to live his ultimate fear. Being locked up and having Hulk be let loose like a monster had always been something in the back of his mind, but never something he would have thought the Avengers would do.

"Look, Bruce," Sam started. "I want you to know, that's never gonna hap-"

"I know." Bruce smiled tightly. "I do know, but I can't help thinking about how that Bruce must have felt."

"Yeah. The more I learn, the more I'm glad Peter did what he did. Having gotten to talk to him, I do hate the idea of him having not survived, but those copies couldn't continue on like that."

"I'm wondering what happened to send Peter here though." Bruce frowned. "A bomb shouldn't have tossed him into another universe."

"Bruce, with all that we've seen, I'm not above believing anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha raised as eyebrow as she stepped into the kitchen the next morning. Tony was slumped over the bar countertop while Steve rummaged around, slowly gathering supplies for breakfast.

"Rough night?"

"Sam wouldn't let me talk to Bruce! They were gone all night. They even left the tower again when they saw me and Cap waiting on them in the parking garage."

"I'd avoid you to if you set my research back by four years." Natasha snorted. "Maybe Bruce just didn't want to hear your apology so Sam didn't give you the chance."

"Since when does Brucie Bear go out?" Tony huffed.

"Hmm, a friend helping out a friend....you're right, it's suspicious as hell." Natasha deadpanned.

"I wonder where Sam took him." Steve said, cracking eggs into a pan. "If Bruce enjoyed it, maybe we should all go."

"Go where?" Bucky asked, voice deep and raspy from sleep.

"Where ever Sam took Bruce last night after Tony blew the lab." Natasha smirked.

"Yes. It was a mighty explosion." Thor nodded, following Bucky into the kitchen.

"I get it. I messed up. For the record though, I was working on a gift for Peter." Tony scowled. "I don't see any of you doing anything to impress our headstrong omega."

No one replied.

"So......did uh....did you lose your work?" Steve asked with false casualty.

Tony looked at the super soldier flatly.

"Yes, Steve. Yes I did."

"It is clear that it was for the best then." Thor smiled, patting Tony on the back as he sat down next to him. "We can't have you blowing up our perfect little mate, now can we?"

Tony growled as Thor continued to smile, oblivious to the man's ire.

Natasha and Bucky tried to hide their smirks as they moved around the kitchen.

"Well then Goldilocks, what are your plans to help us woo our spider?" Tony ground out.

"Easy!" Thor smiled. "I shall take a more direct approach."

"We were specifically told not to do that, Thor." Steve frowned, looking up from where he was making eggs.

"Yes, but I do not plan to do more than make my intentions towards him known. You see, I simply wish to let him know of my respect and desire to earn his trust and affection. As a royal of Asgard, it is important to learn how to speak to people diplomatically. "

"Oh, I see that going over splendidly." Tony rolled his eyes before freezing. "You know what, let me know when you decide to do this. I'd just love to be there."

"Very well friend! I shall let you know once I have spoken to Ka-"

"Good luck with that." Sam chuckled, walking in and going to the refrigerator. "Karen had baby Murdock last night. You guys won't be getting anywhere near her any time soon."

"How do you know that?" Natasha asked, studying Sam closely.

Sam, despite his efforts to remain passive, flinched at her tone.

"You know. Word gets around the hero community."

"Did you hear this from wherever you took Bruce last night?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing him arms.

"Look," Sam huffed. "I took Bruce out last night to get him away from Fire Marshall Bill over there. We went to a small bar and ran into Jessica Jones and she got the call while talking to us. That's how I know."

"Well, we should at least send over a gift." Steve said, turning from the stove and scooping out eggs and bacon onto plates.

"You're like the mother of this team Rogers." Tony said blandly. "Are you sure you're an alpha?"

"You've never complained before." Steve challenged.

"Nope. No way. Not happening in front of the food." Sam glared, grabbing two plates and stomping out of the alpha filled kitchen.

"FRIDAY, take me to Bruce."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam tried to hold back his laugh as a disgruntled Bruce Banner stood in the doorway of his room. The man's sleep clothes were rumpled and crooked. His hard stuck up in various directions and there were bags under his eyes.

"Shut-up."

Sam's laugh burst out as Bruce snatched the plate of food out his hand and moved into his room.

"Hey, be grateful you didn't have to go down there and get that."

"Why?"

"They were all in the kitchen, well, minus Clint."

Bruce frowned, looking over at the clock.

"It's time for breakfast. He doesn't miss breakfast."

"No I don't, so share."

Sam and Bruce jumped as the archer tumbled out the vent to Bruce's floor.

"The hell man?" Sam shouted.

"I was hoping to hear where you two went last night!" Clint defended.

"I just took Bruce out to get him away from Tony!"

"You could have invited me! Maybe I wanted to get away from Tony too."

"Why would you want to get away from Tony?" Bruce asked blankly.

"........"

"So....no reason."

"Come on! We're all betas here! We should stick together! I can't handle the Mopey Alpha Force."

Sam and Bruce sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter stretched, back cracking from where he had spent the last few hours bent over his desk. Various disassembled electronics littered his room.

"Alright, let's see if I got it."

Slipping his mask on, he waited.

A few seconds later, his lenses filled with light as the screens in the lenses began to provide digital readouts of various things he looked at.

"So far so good." Peter mumbled before taking a deep breath.

"GWEN?"

"Hello, Peter. It is nice to finally get to talk with you."

Peter's face broke out into a wide grins as a soothing voice filled his ears.

It had worked.

His own AI.

"How do you feel?"

"That's a rather silly question, Peter. I can't feel anything. You should know this."

Peter's jaw dropped.

"Did I really program you with that much sass?"

"It appears that way....possibly. I have also been learning during the course of my construction. You surround yourself with a rather sarcastic crowd, Peter. Personally, I think I'm going to fit in just fine."

"Oh come on GWEN, you're supposed to be my support! You're supposed to be nice to me!" Peter pouted.

"If it makes you feel better, I love you, Peter."

It was odd that he could practically hear the smile in her voice.

"Thanks GWEN. I love you too." he chuckled.

"Are you planning to go out tonight? If you are, you should get some sleep. You've been working since you got back from the hospital."

"Yeah, I was pumped after meeting Jack plus, I'm anxious for our first date night." Peter grinned. " I'm gonna download some maps into your system so you can help me around the city. In the meantime, I'm gonna go shower then crash. No work today."

GWEN was silent as he removed his mask and shook out his hair. Placing it on his desk, he picked up his phone.

"GWEN?"

"Fully connected here as well Peter. Transfer between suit and phone was flawless. I'm rather proud."

Peter laughed, setting his phone back down the desk and plugging it into his computer.

"Alright GWEN, access the map files and download them. I'll be back."

GWEN didn't respond as Peter gathered his clothes and made his way toward the bathroom. He hadn't told anyone he had been working on an AI. He wasn't sure he was even going to be able to do it, so he didn't want to open himself up for interrogations for no reason.

Now though, now it was different.

GWEN was fully operational.

Prior to her completion, her infant programming had been hiding in his phone, learning as he went to the best of her constantly developing coding. This was her first verbal interaction and everything seemed to be running smoothly. Maybe he could integrate her into more things.

As loath as he was to admit it, he couldn't deny Tony Stark had made amazing use of his own AI. His short time at the tower proved the AI controlled a lot of things there. Bruce had been able to let him out with a simple verbal command. Maybe he could find a way to put GWEN into his own apartment. Having an all seeing AI guarding him wouldn't be such as bad idea. It didn't much matter that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, being an unmated omega all alone only seemed to invite trouble.

Even more loathsome, was the annoying and tiny voice in the back of his head wishing to be able to go to Avengers' Tower and actually pick Tony Stark's brain about A.Is.

Peter scoffed as the warm water washed over him and he smothered out the voice. This world, while it had so many things he was happy with, there were many things he wasn't.

Being an omega came with so many limitations. Despite his capabilities, his strength and intelligence, neither of which he could or was allowed to display, the mere label of 'omega' meant more than anything.

Sure, omegas were able to hold down jobs, the best paying being OBGYN's since that was the only medical position society deemed appropriate for omegas, and oddly enough, omega's alone. Still, those omegas that took on the job, weren't well favored as they were also viewed as "unfit" companions.

Honestly, being an omega in the work industry was just weird as hell. You can work, but your options are limited. You can work, but certain jobs cause you problems. You can work, just take whatever job is the most favorable for flying under the radar.

Thanks to the omegas at Xavier's for their generous donations of the most powerful blockers to exist. Still, working for Luke and Jessica were the only real places that he felt comfortable. He was able to hide his second gender and they sure as shit didn't care. They paid, and they paid under the table to avoid any official paperwork trail. An omega working in a bar or doing detective work was unheard of!

Sighing, he got to the shower and toweled off, slipping into some sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading to the small kitchen. His apartment was far from extravagant. It was a small, one bedroom flat. Danny had helped him get it, paying the deposit and first three months rent while Luke and Jessica got him settled into his new positions. He had tried to deny Danny's help, but the man had been firm and unrelenting, causing Peter to swear to pay him back, something Danny had thought hysterical.

Making quick work of a ham and cheese sandwich, Peter walked back to his room, face planting onto the bed.

"Map files are uploaded, Peter. Get some rest."

Peter smiled before sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karen looked up from where she was feeding Jack and smirked.

"You're fidgeting dear."

Matt huffed before standing and moving to her side.

"I don't 'fidget'."

"You fidget almost as much a Peter."

"No one could fidget anywhere near as much as Peter."

Karen chuckled, before looking out the window.

"I think I'm going to apologize to him."

Matt paused, just letting her think.

"I've been to pushy. I know his history with his Avengers, and I still pushed him to meet the ones here. I just worry about him. He's an unmated omega out in a world where being that very thing can be such a hassle. He's so independent that he'd have so many problems should those super blockers ever fail. Not to mention he's not even on suppressants because we don't know why he's not showing signs of typical omega cycles of heats. He's been here long enough to have had at least one."

Matt sighed, pulling up a chair to sit next to the bed.

"Your concern is valid, Peter just doesn't want it. Still, he needs a little push to get to know them. Whether he wants to acknowledge them as his alphas or not, he needs to, at least, be able to fight along side them without the distraction of constantly fearing them turning on us. We fight together often enough for that to be something he should work on."

"He wouldn't like hearing that any more than hearing me talk about his omega needs." Karen chuckled.

"I don't care." Matt replied. "His attention is split during fights. It makes him dangerous to himself and us."

Karen was silent as she continued to feed their pup.

"Well, what do you propose?"

"Right now, nothing. Approaching Peter out of the blue about it is only asking for trouble. It's something that needs to be lead up to."

"Just be careful. I'm on shaking ground with him. He's been caring towards me because of my pregnancy, but I know there's an annoyance there. Still, I think it's an easy to repair relationship once I tell him I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Matt chuckled. "He's to good hearted not to accept a sincere apology."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thor took a breath. Being the God of Thunder, he rarely ever had any reason to feel nervous. Still, standing outside Jessica Jones' detective agency, he felt his nerves tingle.

Maybe he should have went to Danny or Luke. In hindsight, Jessica was most definitely the wrong choice. However, he was already here and it was important he be able to request a meeting with his omega, even if he had a chaperone during it.

Lifting his hand hesitantly, he went to knock on her door when a familiar thwip reached his ears.

Looking up, Thor watched as a very welcoming sight of blue and red swung overhead. He felt his face heat as he watched Peter somersault through the air with a loud 'whoop'. His omega's obvious happiness was a wonderful sound to his ears.

He watched until Peter swung out of sight and ran his hand down his face. To chase after him would only result in anger and aggression from the hero, but to not approach him at all only lengthened the lack of interaction and possible relationship building he and the other alphas wanted to do.

Why did the Avengers of Peter's world have to be such dishonorable and repulsive people?

"Can I help you, Captain Thunderpants?"

Thor startled as he turned to see a smirking Jessica Jones leaning against her open door frame.

"Oh, yes." Thor said, straightening himself. "I wish to speak with you."

"This wouldn't be about my favorite arachnid, would it? Don't tell him I called him that though, or I'll kill you."

"As a matter of fact, it would."

Jessica grinned mischievously as she motioned for him to come in.

"Better make it quick big guy. No guarantee Spider-Baby won't drop in, and I can't imagine he'd be overly excited to see you here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter felt the adrenaline pumping through him. So far, GWEN had been operating perfectly. Her downloaded mapping system was working excellently, making quick work of getting to any crimes he picked up through the hacked police feed.

"You're a work of art GWEN."

"Are you seriously praising yourself, Peter?"

"Only marginally." Peter laughed. "I programed you to be self learning. I'm only hold so much responsibility for your amazingness."

"I'm not fully convinced this isn't you just bragging to yourself."

Peter just continued to laugh as he dove off the roof of the building he was on.

"No, patting myself on the back is what I'm really about to do. I wanna show you off. We gotta go visit someone."

"Ms. Jones is the closest of your approved contacts."

"I'll only feel a bit bad that Matt isn't who you'll meet first."

"I don't think meeting me is something he would be overly interested in right now."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Peter chuckled. "Alright GWEN, let's go pay my 'cousin' a visit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I have to say, choosing to wear your blockers is a very good start, High Voltage." Jessica said, throwing herself into a chair and snatching a bottle off the end table.

"I want to assure him I mean no harm."

"You do realize that'll take more than a few blockers, right?"

Thor frowned and sighed, settling into another chair.

"I am aware. Our dishonorable counterparts have done us a great disservice."

"Well, not entirely." Jessica shrugged. "I mean, they are the reason he's here so....."

"We're grateful he's here, we just don't like the circumstances of it."

"Understandable. Look, I'm the last person you should have come to for this. I'm not an omega, so I can't help you there. I also enjoy drama, so I'm salivating at all your struggles." Jessica threw him a wicked grin.

"That is both unsettling and disheartening." Thor grimaced.

Jessica chuckled, taking a swig from her bottle.

"Look, I get it, Karen is currently off limits. I also get that considering she's with Matt, there's no telling just how long she'll be unavailable, but I seriously can't help you."

Thor sighed again, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling.

"We worry about his health."

"So does Karen, but he seems to be doing fine. If you didn't know him, you wouldn't even be able to tell he was an omega. Those super strength blockers he got from the wonder bunch and Xavier's are amazing."

Thor didn't reply. While they had all caught on to the fact that Peter's scent seemed nonexistent, that had had no idea why. It had begun to scare them. It was a relief to find out his scent was just completely muffled.

"Tell you what Thunder God, I'll offer you a question. Have any of you tried just making yourself available?"

Thor raised an eyebrow in response.

"Like, going out at night and just sitting on random rooftops? Not pursuing him, just out and stationary."

"I hardly think that would matter. He never makes any attempt to approach us when there is a crowd, why would he do it alone?"

"Peter's a strange guy like that. Alone, he may have the security of being able to take you down, because, ya know, he can."

"Stark seeks to try to gain his attention through a gift."

"......a gift? Look, I know that a typical omega trait is to enjoy their alphas spoiling them, but Pete's not like that. Unless.....unless Stark's making some kind of fancy tech for him." Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "Pete's a real technology whore."

"Do not speak of my omega that way!" Thor roared, jumping up from his chair to tower over Jessica.

Jessica raised an eyebrow and went to open her mouth in challenge when the door to her office flew off the hinges and Thor slammed into the wall. Groaning, the god struggled to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Before he could orient himself, a fist slammed into his face.

"You should have stayed down!"

"Peter!" Jessica shouted, jumping up.

"I told you! I told you! They were just waiting!" Peter growled, throwing another punch.

"Peter! Stop! It's not what you think! He wasn't gonna hurt me!"

"Stop lying! It's only one of them! We can take him!"

"Peter!"

Peter gasped as Jessica's fist slammed into his cheek, knocking him back. Moving in front of the rising Thor, she turned to face that stunned vigilante.

"And I told you, it wasn't what you thought. He got mad because he thought I insulted you."

"So? That doesn't give him any right to be threatening towards you!'

"It's fine!"

Thor wisely watched in silence as the two friends faced off. He hadn't actually meant any harm to Jessica, but he knew Peter was protective of all his friends. If he had known there was a chance Peter would show up here, he would definitely have made sure not to overreact to Jessica's, he can admit, harmless joke. It was just so hard to hear anyone speak of Peter with such a casual air when they were so far from being able to.

He took in a breath when Peter ripped off his mask. His mask mused hair stood up at odd angles, and his face was flush with emotions. The pretty honey brown eyes were dark with betrayal and anger.

"Move, Jess. I'm gonna deal with this asshole once and for all!"

"Sorry, Pete, but you'll have to go through me to do it."

Peter froze, the color draining from his face. He knew from her posture, Jessica wasn't joking. She was actually willing to fight him to keep him from going after the Avenger.

"Jess......"

"You have to understand, Peter. This isn't your world and he's not your enemy. He's an ally."

Peter's eyes darted between Jessica and Thor before sadness replaced everything. Shoulders slumping, Peter pulled his mask back on, and left.

Once he was gone, Thor guiltily looked at Jessica's gloomy face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you such stress."

"It's ok." Jessica sighed, closing her eyes and running her hand down her face. "Pete's got a lot he needs to work on. I don't agree with Karen's methods, but she's honestly been trying more than the rest of us to get through to Peter. We've all taken the approach of just letting Peter see us interacting with you guys and hoping that seeing how comfortable everyone is, that that would eventually be enough."

"Perhaps I should have let him fight me."

"Are you serious?" Jessica shouted, turning on him. "None of you have seen how strong he really is!"

"But if I had let him fight me, I could have shown him how I don't mean any harm."

"You mean, let him beat the crap out of you?" Jessica scoffed.

"Yes. If I truly meant him harm, I would never just allow him to do that."

Jessica let out a breath as she studied Thor's face.

"There's no guarantee that would work. Peter could just kill you instead of taking your unwillingness to hurt him into consideration."

The two were silent for a while, both thinking over what had happened.

"I think I may have made things worse for the rest of us." Thor frowned, lowering his head.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Jessica shrugged. "He may be speaking to me for a little while though."

"I'm sorry."

"Eh. It's fine. I've been through worse than this. I hate it, sure, but I'm not going to dwell on it. That's Karen's department, and by extension, Matt's. Matt's kind of Peter's caretaker anyway since he's who he went to first."

"I should head home." Thor said, heading to the door.

"Why not do what I told you and hang out on a rooftop somewhere? Who knows, maybe he'll show up for that fight."

He nodded before leaving.

Jessica watched before her anger suddenly flared. Running out the door, she screamed up at the sky, knowing there was a good chance her target would hear.

"Hey! You're gonna pay to have my door fixed, cousin! You asshole!"

#LULY #let us love you #Starker #spidershield #winterspider #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #peter parker/thor #Peter Parker/Natasha Romanoff #Peter Parker/Steve Rogers #Peter Parker/Bucky Barnes #a/b/o dynamics

[hairringtonsteve]

and they were roommates.

[steve harrington x reader]

summary: The shit hit the fan, and you need to find a place to stay. Steve Harrington, being the knight in shining armor that he is, offers to let you crash at his place during the quarantine. Clearly, feelings ensue. 

word count: 3,704

a/n: Hey guys. I’m back. The world is a little bit scarier than it was before, but we’re here and we’re getting through it. I need to emphasize that while this fic is lighthearted, it’s not me making fun of the situation. This last week has been excruciatingly stressful for me as well as the rest of us, and honestly, I just need some fluff. So here’s to you and Steve being stuck in an apartment together. Informational links will be located in the first reblog.

**********

“Do we stockpile toilet paper?”

You snorted in response, assuming that he was kidding. Instead of bothering to look at him, you kept your eyes on the Netflix menu, scrolling through the list of horror movies as you tried to ignore the anxiety building in your gut.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the year that you would end up being stuck living in Steve Harrington’s apartment for who knows how long because of a global pandemic, you would have laughed.

But who could have guessed that it would happen? Who could have guessed that your college would shut down and shift everything online, that you wouldn’t be able to fly back home because flights were too expensive? Who could have guessed that Steve Harrington would somehow have perfect timing and walk by just as you burst into tears over flight costs?

“No really, do we stockpile toilet paper?”

You ignored him and kept scrolling.

Really, though, his timing had been perfect. You’d been searching Google for the last twenty minutes, trying to find a flight back home when the cheapest flight out was still over two thousand dollars. Sitting on the steps of your college building – the one that had become like a second home to you since the dorms were awful – you’d shoved your head into your hands and cried.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Steve had asked. You didn’t bother to look up at him, instead opting to take in deep, calming breaths. “You good?” He sat down beside you, not bothering to keep his distance.

The news had been telling everyone to practice social distancing, but it was hard when you were suddenly hit with the reality that you probably wouldn’t see most of these people again. Everyone had thought that you wouldn’t start the I’m graduating college goodbyes until May.

“Oh, you know,” you began as you lifted your head up but didn’t look at him. Your voice was watery as you spoke. “Global pandemic and all that. I’m fine.” Steve leaned over your shoulder to get a glance at your phone.

“Fuck, that’s rough. You trying to get home?”

You’d gotten the email the night before. Sitting in the common area of your building despite the fact that your classes had ended hours ago, the group from your department had all sat at the various tables in shocked silence. Students out of the dorms within ten days unless there were extenuating circumstances. They hadn’t defined what those circumstances would have to consist of, but you knew deep down that you wouldn’t qualify.

“Yeah, I uh… My mom can’t afford it and neither can I.” A new wave of tears started to sting at your eyes. A few made their way down your cheeks. “I’ve got ten days, though. I can figure it out.”

Steve sighed. You finally looked over to him. The tears made him a little blurry.

“My roommate is flying out tonight,” he said. He looked forward before looking back to you. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you crashing in his room until shit gets sorted out.”

You stared at him. Your throat got thicker. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to hold back the sob that wanted to burst through at the offer. Instead of saying anything, you gave him a short nod.

Within an hour the two of you were packing up your dorm room, throwing everything into whatever luggage you had. You hauled the luggage and everything else that couldn’t fit down the four flights of stairs and tossed it into his car. His two-bedroom apartment was a fifteen-minute drive away. There had been a quick goodbye to his roommate – who didn’t know what was going on until you had gotten there – and that was that.

“Toilet paper, Y/N. Do we need it?” A hint of annoyance was coloring his words and you finally shifted around on the couch, twisting your neck far enough so you could see him. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, already holding two packs of toilet paper, eight rolls in each.

“Dude, seriously?”

“What? What if we use it all up?”

“Then we go to the store and get more.”

“What if they put us under martial law and we’re not allowed to go anywhere?”

“Then we’ll figure that out. But we have enough for now. We’re not hoarding toilet paper like the rest of the assholes out there.” He tilted his head back and groaned. “Steve, c’mon. It’s fine. It’ll—” You were interrupted by your phone beeping, alerting you to a text. You ignored it. It was probably your mom, checking in. Again. “Steve, it’ll be okay. We’ll have enough toilet paper. We just need to go get food and beer, and we’ll go from there.”

Steve stared at you. “But what if one of us gets diahre—”

“Okay, that’s it. Get your shoes on. We’re heading to the store, dumbass.”

Steve grinned. “Wow, dumbass? It’s like we’re back in biochem.”

You snorted and got up from your spot on the couch, heading to where you’d taken off your sneakers near the door. You’d placed them next to his. It hit you, that your sneakers and his sneakers would be right there for the foreseeable future because of… everything that was going on. You swallowed, the anxiety that had been settled in your gut for over a week now threatening to rise to your throat. But you sucked in a deep breath, willing yourself to keep calm.

Things were fine. It would be okay.

Steve came up beside you and reached down to shove his shoes on. When he righted himself, he bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned.

“Think the beer will be gone?”

*****

The grocery store looked like it was ransacked. The toilet paper and baby wipes were off the shelves. People had grocery carts piled high with nonperishables and whatever else they could get their hands on.

You and Steve locked eyes without a word. His fingers thrummed against the railing of the last grocery cart that had been available while he raised a brow at you. You nodded and the two of you headed straight for the alcohol.

It took twice as long as usual to walk the length of the store to get to the far corner where they held the beer and liquor. Not surprisingly, the area was filled with mostly college-age looking people trying to get their hands on whatever would get them adequately fucked up for the next few weeks.

Steve cleared his throat and nodded towards the beer, the one that everyone had been studiously avoiding. “Should we get some?” He waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. “No, that stuff tastes like piss.” He laughed and pushed the cart forward, stopping to get a case of Angry Orchard. “You like that stuff?”

“No, but it’s your favorite, right?”

You nodded as you tried to remember when he would have been able to figure that out. The first time that you’d met was last fall, when you had the same biochemistry lab together. “Yeah?”

“I thought so. I remember you mentioning something about it the night all of us went out after our final in December.”

That had been over three months ago. But everyone in the lab had gone out for drinks to celebrate making it through finals week. At the time, you’d exchanged a handful of words at most. Hell, you hadn’t even mentioned that it was your favorite directly to him. Something shifted in your chest.

Weird.

After that, things grew quieter between the two of you as you made your way systematically through the store. With the alcohol, you got some staples, some favorites, making sure to take into consideration the fact that there would probably be a few nights where the two of you would drink enough to kill a horse. After that, you started to make your way through the food aisles, getting whatever was left over. While most of it was taken, you got the important stuff: bread, vegetables, fruit, meat, peanut butter. Things were scarce, but you got through it.

And the whole time, your stomach was sinking further and further down.

Things weren’t supposed to go this way. All you could think about was the day prior as your professors had said their goodbyes to the students, everyone trying to keep a brave face. Rationally, you knew that things would eventually be fine. But it was hard to keep that in mind when it felt like the beginning of an apocalypse movie.

“—You good to go?”

“Huh?” You looked over to Steve, blinking. At some point, the two of you had made it to the front of the store.

He smiled, soft and understanding. “I asked if you were good to go. We should probably get in line. They’re just getting longer.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” It took a few minutes to try to find the shortest line (if you could call any of them short. You glanced towards the front of the line, watching as the over-worked cashiers struggled to keep everyone happy. Looking back to Steve, you leaned against the grocery cart. “Have I thanked you yet for letting me crash at your place?”

“Only about ten times, but I haven’t figured out that you’re appreciative yet, so you could go for eleven.” You laughed and rolled your eyes as the line moved forward about an inch.

“Seriously, Steve. Thank you. You didn’t have to offer.”

Steve shrugged. “I kind of did. I can’t live alone.”

You scoffed. “You think we can live together and not want to murder each other?”

Steve shrugged once more. “As long as you let me win at Mario Party, we’ll be fine.”

The anxiety in your chest eased up a little. Maybe staying with Steve wouldn’t be too bad.

***** 

As it turned out, being around Steve Harrington constantly was a lot to handle. He was adamant that the two of you worked together daily on your coursework. He’d said that it was to make it just like being on campus as much as possible, but the two of you knew that it was really just an excuse to bicker over homework and steal each other’s pens.

It was weird, knowing these little intimate details about him that you only find out when you live with someone. He sang while he did the dishes. He never made his bed and left video game cases strewn throughout the living room. He had a habit of falling asleep on the couch in the most uncomfortable positions. He preferred tea to coffee, sweet to savory, and had a weird lack of movie knowledge. He also played a lot of Fortnite with a bunch of kids from his hometown.

When you asked him about it, he’d just shrugged and said: “I’m a really great babysitter, what can I say?”

To which you’d heard, muffled through his headset, a boy’s voice shriek, “Bullshit Steve!”

The biggest problem, though, was that he was starting to get to you.

Objectively, you’d understood that he was conventionally attractive. A guy with hair that nice couldn’t be wholly unattractive.

It was just that it didn’t really hit you until two days into quarantine. You wandered around out of your room, too occupied with replying to a text to keep yourself from running into a shirtless Steve, complete with a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his hair.

His hands wrapped themselves around your arms as he pushed you back a little, making sure that both you remained upright. The two of you locked eyes. You were close enough that you could see the little flecks of gold in them. 

Oh. 

Oh.

Your stomach flipped and suddenly you were acutely aware of him. Your eyes started to slide from his face – taking in his nose, his jawline, his mouth – to his chest when he let out a choked sort of noise.

“Please don’t look down,” he said, his voice higher than you’d ever heard it before. You looked back up at him, scrunching up your brow. “The towel fell and I… Naked.”

There were maybe three seconds of silence before you burst out laughing. You took a step back, clapping a hand over your eyes as you struggled to breathe. 

There you were, in the middle of quarantine during a global pandemic, and Steve Harrington was naked and dripping wet in front of you. 

“Just shut it, okay?”

You tried to stifle the laughter, but it just turned into muffled giggles. “You good to go there, Harrington?” You could hear a bunch of shuffling along with some muttered swearing before eventually, he gave the okay for you to look. Your hand dropped from your face and the laughter died out as you got a good look at his chest. 

It took him clearing his throat for you to meet his eyes once more. He was looking at you with an intense look on his face. His tongue darted across his lips as he took a step towards you. Your heart thudded in your chest and just as he took another step forward and then — 

A knock at the door. 

The two of you jerked back. You almost knocked your head into a shelf while Steve said that he’d get the door. You watched as he stepped forward, raising an eyebrow in silence as he turned back to you, a sheepish look on his face. 

“Did you just now realize that you’re…” You trailed off as you waved your hand up and down to motion towards the towel. He nodded, his cheeks growing red. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it.” 

He’d scurried down the hall to change while you opened the door to one of Steve’s neighbors clad in a mask, asking if you guys had any extra toilet paper.

You got the elderly man two rolls and waited for Steve to come back out of his bedroom.

He didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

That was twelve days ago and since then, the two of you had been avoiding each other like… well... the plague.

Instead, Steve would walk into the kitchen, only to see you and abruptly turn around to walk out. You would head into the living room to watch Netflix and immediately try to leave when he was playing the PlayStation. When the two of you did talk, it was weird. Stunted.

“What do you want for dinner?” 

“Whatever you want.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Cool.” 

On and on it went, both of you hole-ing up in your respective rooms while trying to avoid the other. You even took turns doing the grocery shopping.  

The worst part about it, though, was how aware you were of him. When you walked by him in the hallway, your senses honed in on the way your arms brushed. When he was leaning against the counter and shoving his fingers through his hair, your gaze would somehow magnetically drawn towards looking at him regardless of what was on the TV. 

You had to shove your face into a pillow every time you heard the shower turn on.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. Crushes – and that’s what this was, a full-blown crush – were awful to begin with. They were inconvenient and distracting in the best of times. But this? This was downright torture. Utter and complete torture. You felt like you were going to snap at any moment, ready to combust at a second’s notice.

And then you got the alert on your phone. You were sat on the counter, a spoonful of peanut butter shoved halfway in your mouth. Your thumb flicked the notification bar down as you read the headline. It wasn’t anything different, just an update on the virus spread and the estimated time that it would take for things to calm down.

But that meant that you would be there longer.  That meant that you would be in that apartment longer, having to go through silence and awkwardness and who knows what else for an “indeterminate amount of time.” Something inside you snapped. You hopped down from the counter, chucked the spoon of peanut butter into the sink, and hurried down the hall towards his bedroom.

After around five hurried knocks, the door swung open. He had a panicked look in his eyes as he stared down at you. “What? What’s going on? Did something happen?” He was frantic as he stared down at you. 

“What?” 

“You knocked like someone important just died, and I missed it. What’s going on?” 

“I — I just wanted to talk?” 

Steve blinked at you. “We’re… There’s a global disaster going on and you choose to knock like that so we can talk?”

“Steve, I knocked on your door. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“There’s knocking on a door, and then there’s whatever the hell you did.” He stepped outside of his room, causing you to step back as well to give him some space. “So this —” He knocked against his door three times, slow and not too hard. “-- Is how normal people knock. And this —” There he knocked hard and fast against the wood, exaggerating how hard you’d knocked. “Is how you knocked. Now clearly, there is a difference and you almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“You’re dramatic.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “So what’s up?” He crossed his arms and quirked a brow.

You heaved in a breath and started rambling.

“I — Look, I get it if things were weird because I practically saw you naked but we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic and I’m stuck in your apartment for who knows how long and I can’t keep avoiding you like this. It’s weird, Steve.” 

He just stared at you and didn’t say a word. So you kept rambling. 

“I get it that you’re really stressed out and I am too, but Steve, this is just making things worse? And like, honestly it’s not that big of a deal. You were shirtless. It was fine. More than fine, actually. Like, it’s cool. It’s —” 

“More than fine?” 

You stared at him. “What?” 

“You just said that me being shirtless was not only fine but more than fine.” 

You could feel your cheeks begin to warm. “I don’t — I —” 

Steve took a step forward. “Is me being shirtless more than fine with you?” 

You gaped at him, frozen. 

“Do you like me being shirtless?” There was a smirk on his face now, as though your silence was enough of an answer. 

“Steve, I —” He took another step forward, right in your space. He leaned down a little. Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

 “You like me shirtless.” He wasn’t asking anymore. Your rational brain wasn’t working. You opened your mouth to reply something, anything, and what came out was: 

“We’re supposed to self-distance.”

Steve froze, eyes wide, and took a step back. “Did I — Did I misread? I thought—” 

You tried to shake your head, hoping that he’d notice, but he was too caught up in the panic of thinking that he’d misread everything and crossed a boundary. So you did the next best thing. 

(Really, the thing that you should have done a week ago.)

You reached out, fingers grasping at his shirt and tugged him towards you. You rolled up onto the tips of your toes and pressed your lips against his. He froze, his words falling silent. Your heart was pounding so hard that you feared it would come out of your chest. Slowly, his hands fell to your waist as his lips began to move. He pulled you closer to him, all thoughts of social distancing falling away as you kissed. 

Eventually, he pulled away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “We’re supposed to self-distance?” He asked, a slow grin spreading across his features. You rolled your eyes and tried to pull back, but he gripped your waist a little tighter, keeping you there. 

“I panicked, okay? You just — I just didn’t expect it to go that way.” He didn’t respond verbally, instead just raising his brow. “It’s been weird not talking to you and being here. And I didn’t mean to say that about you being shirtless, it just kind of slipped out.” 

“Why are you acting like that wasn’t okay? Y/N, you know I’ve liked you since the first day of biochem.” 

You blinked. 

“Seriously, you had to have known. I was hung up on you.”

You blinked again. 

“Y/N, I laughed at all of your terrible jokes in lab. I… offered to let you stay in my apartment during the quarantine.” While he’d started off laughing, by the second sentence, he was speaking slow and soft, enunciating every word. You opened your mouth to reply when he continued. “I let you win at Mario Party, come on. You’re terrible at that.” 

Whatever thoughts of acknowledging his feelings flew out of your head at that. “Excuse you, I am great at Mario Party. I kicked your ass at that the first two days that we were here.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I purposefully lost to make you feel better.” Your expression softened at his words. He pulled away just a little — his hands still on your waist — to stare up at the ceiling. “You were stressed about your mom constantly texting and I know that it’s hard for you to not be with your family. So I just wanted to make it easier on you.” He looked back down at you. 

Warmth bloomed in your chest. 

You smiled up at him as you searched for the right thing to say in response. But it was hard. There weren’t words to convey just how thankful you were for that. You leaned up to press your lips against his once more. After a moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him and grinned. 

“So, you want to go play some Mario Party?”

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington #stranger things

[hartigays]

ooh if you’re still doing the fluff/angst prompts could you do 14 + harringrove? I love your writing and you could do something amazing with this 🖤

14. “Get your hands off of me!”

“harrington, what the hell are you doing?”

steve doesn’t answer, not bothering to look up. he’s focused intently on the row of dominos that he’s carefully setting up, his tongue poking out and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“voilà!” steve shouts, finally getting the last domino in place. he claps his hands and rubs them together in anticipation.

billy arches a brow, giving steve a bored look. but steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just tiptoes carefully over the dominos weaving around the living room of their apartment, kneeling down and counting backwards from three before setting them in motion.

it takes all of thirty seconds for the carefully constructed line to fall, but steve still looks at billy with a goofy smile, his eyebrows raised in question. as if to silently ask pretty cool, huh?

“oh, come on,” steve huffs at the unimpressed look billy levels him with. “that was at least kind of cool, admit it.”

“you spent three hours setting that up,” billy points out. “instead of taking out the trash. like i asked you to do earlier. three hours earlier, to be exact.”

it’s steve’s turn to roll his eyes. he spins on his heel and flops backward onto the couch. “whatever. time is arbitrary in quarantine.”

“don’t whatever me,” billy says with a sniff, examining his cuticles. “just clean it up before bed. i don’t want to come out here for water in the middle of the night and break my ass slipping on a fuckin’ domino.”

“fine, mom.” steve tosses a tennis ball in the air as he speaks, making faces at the ceiling like a child. “whatever you say.”

billy moves to lean over steve on the couch, flicking him on the forehead while flashing a toothy grin. “damn right.”

it’s been three weeks since the governor issued an official stay-at-home order. three weeks of binging netflix, playing video games, and scrolling through the same few social media apps over and over.

steve had grown antsy and stir-crazy by the end of week one, needing to find some new activity or another to occupy his mind and body to keep from going nuts.

billy, on the other hand, has kept himself busy with a stack of books about a mile high, and his at-home workout routines. steve’s also been eating better, given the amount of cooking billy’s been doing now that he’s home full time.

while steve bounces from one activity to another, restless and understimulated, billy seems to be transitioning easily into their new way of life, as he tends to do with most things.

steve is only a little bitter.

“how are you not bored out of your mind?” steve gripes. he tosses the tennis ball onto the armchair adjacent to the couch, already tired of it.

billy had moved into the kitchen, and he looks up from the cookbook he’d been flipping through. “i dunno. ‘s not so bad. i can sleep in now, cook dinner more. i even learned how to make paella recently.”

“the fuck is paella?” steve snorts, sitting up on his elbows to stare at billy over the back of the couch.

“it’s going to be dinner tonight,” billy says easily, shrugging. “it’s good, trust me.”

steve just shrugs, flopping back down and closing his eyes. he doesn’t care what billy puts in front of him - the less he has to cook, the better. it’s just not in his wheelhouse.

besides, billy is a natural cook. there hasn’t been anything he’s made that steve’s been unimpressed with. so he leaves billy to do his thing, pulling out his phone and scrolling through twitter, half-listening to the familiar sound of billy puttering around the kitchen.

steve spends a few hours going between napping and mindlessly scrolling through his phone. by the time he pushes himself off the couch with a yawn and a stretch, it’s already getting dark outside. he shuffles into the kitchen, following the delicious smells coming from within.

billy’s still cooking away, his brow furrowed in concentration. he’s stirring something on the stove, poring over the recipe in the cookbook before him. he looks incredibly in his element, moving about with ease, seamlessly transitioning from one task to the next.

steve doesn’t think it’s weird that he could watch billy do this all day. it’s always nice to see someone doing something they’re passionate about with such dedication. and if there’s a secret part of him that has an innate appreciation for billy in an apron, well.

sue him.

it’s not like finding billy attractive is anything new to steve. it’s the 21st century, steve tends not to dwell on those kinds of things. he doesn’t, however, feel the need to clue billy in to those particularly appreciative thoughts about him in his cooking attire.

they’re stuck in isolation together for the foreseeable future. there’s no sense in stirring up trouble or discomfort - they’ve got enough going on already. steve’s not-so-G-rated thoughts about billy and his apron aren’t between anyone but him and god himself.

he just admires from afar, trying to not indulge too often in his racy thoughts about his roommate, who also happens to be his long-time best friend.

it’s no secret, however, that those thoughts had been easier to ignore before, when they spent a large part of their days apart. billy would be at work or in class and steve could always be found guiding himself through his own busy schedule.

as university students, they’d had pretty chaotic lives before the world came to a grinding halt. they were both generally busy with their own lives, and steve had enough going on that he didn’t often have time to dwell on how his thoughts were increasingly crossing the line between friendship and something more.

and just because they’re now together 24/7, with all the time in the world for steve to confront the reality of his little predicament, it doesn’t mean steve is worried. not at all. not even a little bit.

steve has this silly idea that maybe if he says it enough times, he’ll start to believe it.

“smells good in here,” steve comments. he leans up against the counter next to the stove, peering over billy to sneak a peek at what he’s working on.

billy pauses his stirring, scooping a small portion of what looks like rice onto his spoon and holding it up to steve’s lips. he lets billy pop the bite into his mouth, his eyes lighting up at the burst of flavor that spreads across his tongue. whatever it is, it’s delicious. steve licks his lips appreciatively.

“yum.”

billy just nods, looking pleased. “it’ll be ready in about ten minutes. hey, grab me a beer, will you?”

steve grabs two beers from the fridge, passing one off to billy and cracking the other one open for himself. he heads back into the living room, curling back up on the couch and scrolling through netflix.

by the time he manages to find a documentary that they haven’t seen before, billy’s walking into the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. his beer is stuffed in the crook of his elbow, and steve sits up to grab the plate from billy before he can spill beer all over the floor.

“what’d you pick out?” billy asks once they dig in, nodding at the television.

steve swallows a mouthful of food, giving a satisfied hum of approval. “some new nature documentary. i think it’s about whales or sharks or something like that.”

“sounds like a real fleshed-out choice,” billy snorts, but he doesn’t object to steve’s selection.

“hey, you’re the one who’s always complaining that we waste so much time scrolling through the same stuff every day,” steve points out. “i’m just saving us the trouble.”

billy just huffs out a laugh before taking a swig of his beer. “i never said not having to scroll for an hour was a bad thing.”

the lapse into silence as the show starts, watching with meager interest as the intro credits begin. it’s quiet until steve takes a particularly delicious bite of his food, practically moaning around his spoon.

“this is delicious, by the way,” steve says, glancing over at billy. “what’d you say this is called?”

billy’s giving him a strange look, one that has steve’s cheeks heating up and the tips of his ears turning pink.

“paella,” billy answers finally, clearing this throat and averting his eyes

steve stares at billy for a moment longer, opening his mouth to speak before realizing he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, letting it fall shut again.

there’s a weird tension hanging between them for the rest of the night. steve tries not to fixate on it, but it’s hard when he’d picked out the most boring documentary in the history of time itself.

billy doesn’t even meet his eyes when he says goodnight later, after they’ve watched a few episodes and cleaned up the kitchen. steve can’t help but wonder if maybe he said something wrong without realizing it, watching billy retreat to the safety of his bedroom.

steve tosses and turns for most of the night, plagued by incredibly weird and startlingly vivid dreams. dreams about monsters that lurk in the shadows and kids with superpowers and bad men in their secret labs. similar to the ones he had back in high school, back when his life was turned inside out and upside down. only these are brighter, more intense, somehow weirder than before.

there’s a gasp dying on steve’s lips when he bolts upright in bed, the image of a hyper-realistic demogorgon with a decaying human face that he’s uncomfortably sure was barb’s still burned into his mind. he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his stomach churning. his mouth is unbelievably dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of it.

steve pushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead, climbing out of bed and padding into the kitchen. he gulps down two glasses of water, trying to will away the trembling of his hands.

it’s when he’s walking back to his room that he slips on something, crashing backward and busting his ass hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. steve’s tailbone collides with the ground first, followed by his elbows, and then his head.

steve groans, pushing himself up off the ground. he feels lightheaded and disoriented, the back of his head throbbing something awful. distantly, steve hears what sounds like a door opening, followed by footsteps.

the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when someone crouches down beside him. steve can’t get his eyes to focus while he’s this dizzy and the room is this dark. he jumps nearly a foot in the air when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“get your hands off of me!” steve yelps, smacking the mystery hands away from him and scooting across the floor to put distance between him and the body hovering next to him.

“hey, hey, steve, calm down, it’s just me. it’s just billy.”

steve squints through the darkness, his heart hammering in his chest. he can finally make out the defining features of the person that is most definitely billy, crouching in front of him and looking at him with a mixture of pure bewilderment and what he’s pretty sure is worry.

groaning, steve rubs the back of his head with a grimace. “ow...”

“told you to clean the damn dominos up,” billy mutters, sitting back on his heels as he tilts steve’s head down, examining the damage. “did you hit it hard?”

steve just nods, wincing as he does. “yeah. hit my ass and elbows harder, though.”

billy huffs out a soft laugh, taking steve’s bicep and lifting his arm to inspect his elbow.

“i think you’ll live,” billy says after a few moments, letting steve’s arm drop. “the hell were you doing wandering around the house in the dark at three in the morning, anyway?”

“i was getting some water,” steve tells him, rubbing his elbow with a frown. “i was having really weird dreams. i feel dizzy, are you sure i don’t have a concussion?”

billy shifts closer, trying to move steve’s mass of hair enough to look more closely at the lump on the back of his head.

“well, you’re not bleeding. if you have a concussion, it’s mild,” billy says with a shrug. “but i think you’re in the clear. what kind of dreams were they?”

steve doesn’t say anything for a moment before giving a halfhearted shrug. “same dreams i always have. they were just, like....super vivid this time, you know?”

“might’ve been the shellfish in the paella,” billy muses, humming thoughtfully. “certain foods can give you more vivid dreams, almost like fever dreams. shellfish are a pretty common culprit.”

billy takes one last look at the back of steve’s head before grabbing his hand, tugging him up off the ground. steve’s head swims once he’s upright, and he tips forward, crashing directly into billy. billy’s arms go around him immediately, holding him steady.

“you okay?” billy asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

steve blinks rapidly, his brain slowly catching up to the position he’s currently in. he feels the tips of his ears get hot, disentangling himself from billy and backing away, putting several feet of distance between them.

“yeah, i - um. sorry, that wasn’t intentional.”

steve averts his eyes, though billy’s stay trained on steve, that strange look from before back on his face. something shifts in his expression, billy giving him a thoughtful look.

“on second thought,” billy says finally, “you should crash in my room. so i can keep an eye on you. wouldn’t want you nursing a head injury alone, in case anything happens.”

“the hell do you mean, if anything happens?” steve questions, his hand flying up to the back of his head. he opens his mouth to ask another panicked question, but it closes quickly once he realizes what billy is offering. “wait, you mean you want me to stay with you? in your bed? like, together?”

“sure, if you want,” billy says, sounding casual while looking anything but. “you know, for safety.”

“for safety,” steve repeats slowly, swallowing thickly. “okay. okay, yeah. do you think i might need - um. mouth-to-mouth? for safety?”

steve’s heart is hammering in his chest before the question fully leaves his mouth. billy just stares at him for a long moment, before cracking a goofy grin, giving him a slightly disbelieving look. “steve, that is the corniest fucking thing you have ever said.”

“oh, shut up. i have a traumatic brain injury,” steve counters with an unimpressed sniff, trying to play it off like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. “sue me.”

“right, your horrific bump on the head,” billy nods, fighting a smile. “guess you should come over here and let me take another look. for safety, of course.”

“safety’s very important,” steve acknowledges as he crosses the room, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.

steve stops short in front of billy, hesitating. billy closes the remaining distance, reaching up to gently feel the bump on the back of steve’s head, though his eyes never leave steve’s.

“that really is a nasty knot,” billy says offhandedly, a flicker of concern appearing in his eyes and disappearing just as quickly. “maybe some ice would help?”

“thought you were writing me a prescription for something else,” steve mumbles.

billy looks momentarily confused, before steve closes the distance and seals their lips together. billy yields almost instantaneously, his mouth opening to steve as if they’ve done this a million times before.

now that he’s face-to-face with it, steve isn’t sure how he was able to dance around it for so long. billy’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his, and he kisses steve languidly, like they have all the time in the world and he knows it. he has one hand curled into steve’s hair, the other splayed across his jaw. when billy nips at steve’s bottom lip, it sends sparks skittering down steve’s spine and goosebumps erupting across his skin.

all steve can see, smell, and taste is billy and he’s dizzy with it, unsteady on his feet. which could be attributed in part to steve’s little bump on the head, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind to worry about later. he sways a little, causing their mouths to break apart. billy takes steve’s hand keeping him steady.

“c’mon, let’s get you to bed,” billy says, his breathing a little ragged. “you can get the full hargrove treatment in the morning, when you’re not borderline concussed.”

“you’re the one who’s getting a medical degree,” steve protests, even as billy pulls him to his bedroom. “i was just following the doctor’s orders.”

“right, well. this doctor is ordering you to lay down and get some sleep,” billy counters. he helps steve climb into bed, scooting in next to him once steve has slid over to give him some room.

billy lets steve wrap himself around him like a koala without protest, only humming softly in approval.

“maybe quarantine’s not so bad,” steve muses after a few beats of silence, yawning.

“you’re just saying that because you get to kiss me every day now.”

“that so?” steve asks, chuckling softly. “guess that means i should get some sleep so i can be well-rested for a big day of kisses tomorrow.”

“go to sleep, harrington,” billy snorts, burying his face into steve’s neck.

“‘night billy.”

“sweet dreams, princess.”

#pardon my lack of knowledge on how to cook things #idk how to cook paella i just made some shit up bc lazy #here u go bby enjoy 💓💓💓 #harringrove #stranger things #my fics #ask #anon

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter One.

Fake Fiancé/Husband Wanted!

Yes, I know the request looks weird, but I can explain. I work a high demanding job so I can't have custody of my child unless I marry someone with regular hours and a regular nanny on call. I have the nanny, but she is a uni student and can't be here at odd hours. After gaining custody and getting a job with normal hours I am willing to pay you or we can talk about divorce settlements. Preferably someone with a stable job and a liking towards kids. If you have a child, they are welcome to live here too obviously and I will treat them like my own for the foreseeable future. Serious inquiries only, please contact me via email I have made specifically for this.

Thank you.   Louis didn't know why he was on craigslist at three in the morning after drinking himself to death's door knowing Freddie was safe with Zayn for the night. He knew that when he was drunk, he tended to do stupid things and think stupid things. He had been on this post for almost an hour staring at it knowing damn well how stupid and dangerous replying was. That didn't stop him from clicking on the email and typing out a reply. 

To Stranger,

My name is Louis Tomlinson I am a single father of a four-year-old boy. I work as a dramatic arts teacher at Abraham Moss Community. Not the best paying job, but nowhere in your post did you have a minimum annual income requirement. Despite the horrible pay I do love my job and I work at this school for free childcare at the nursery across the street my son goes to. I would like to know a bit more information about you wanting custody before I agree to such a thing. You hear so many stories about fathers taking kids to be spiteful, so I want to be sure that is not the reason.

Louis

****   It was two days later when Louis got a reply from the mysterious guy. He waited until his lunch break before he read it.  

Louis,

You are the first normal person who has shown interest in anything that wasn't money related. For that reason, I really hope we hit it off. I love my daughter so much; she is my absolute world and I video call her every day. It's not me that is the bad parent and I say this as nicely as I can, but her mother is a very absent and selfish parent, and it shows. It's funny you work where you do, my daughter is in Year 1 there.

I gave her mother the money for private school, but she spent it on a new wardrobe for herself and didn't even spent a dime on out daughter. So, she goes to Abraham. I have receipts and check copies, and everything is to prove that I am the 'fit' parent. I have tried to avoid court, but I haven't been able to have my daughter for more than a few hours in over a year. Now her mother is talking about movie to America if her boyfriend gets the promotion at the end of the twelve-month training which just began a month ago. I have a hearing in a few weeks for visiting rights so hopefully if you are still willing after hearing how much drama this will involve, we can talk about everything in person before then.

Your son Freddie, what's his custody like? He is welcome here anytime and if he lives with you full time that's amazing. Obviously, kids make this a bit more delicate, but all the more reason to see if we can try to be something more along the way? We'll discuss this more another time of course, but reply as soon as you are able to and maybe we can get coffee?

 Your (maybe) future husband.

  Louis smiled softly reading about how much the guy loved his daughter. He seemed to want the best for her, and her mother seemed to just want money. He heard about those people and he could honestly say he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe people put themselves first over their own child. Louis had three-year-old winter boots with the soles so worn out that the snow seeped into his socks, but his son always needed new boots every winter and he'd be damned if his son were in pain over too tight shoes because Louis bought a pair of boots for himself. Louis pressed the reply button and wrote a quick response.  

My future husband,

She sounds like the devil. I'd be happy to help you if you don't/haven't found anyone better. I have the same lunch hour every Monday through Friday from 11-12 and there's a small coffee shop around the corner I can make it to for the hour. Then my best my mate has Freddie a weekend a month and then me mum has Freddie for another weekend. Usually it goes me mum, myself, best mate, and myself again. So, to make this believable we have two weekends to have "been together". Freddie is mine solely, I'm a carrier so I had him, and his other father ran out a few months after he was born. Ran off with a younger boy without a child and without a scar on his stomach. Let me know when you're available for that coffee.

Louis

  ***********   Harry emailed only three people Louis, Matthew, and Brian. Matthew and Brian didn't have kids, but they said they liked them. Matthew kept asking about his monthly income which he kept avoiding and Brian asked how big he was and if sex was involved. Harry wouldn't say no to sex of course, but to ask someone's size. He ended up blocking him when he got a dick pic. Matthew then asked how much the wedding would total up to and if they were wearing designer suits, so he ended up blocking him as well. Louis was interested in his reason of doing this and he had a child so knew how real this had to be for kids. He knew what it meant to be a full-time parent and put the kid first. So, he was so far the best candidate and he never even asked about his job or finances. So, after checking his schedule he emailed him and told him he'd be able to meet Thursday during his lunch at the café he knew Louis was talking about.   He got off a rare 38-hour shift Thursday at ten, so it gave him time to make it to the school for a quick minute to see Maddison. He walked into the building still in his pink scrubs and lab coat on as well, but that was because he hadn't taken it off so use to having it on all the time. He headed up to the front desk smiling at Amy.   "Hey Amy, is Maddison available for just a minute? I know she's in art right now."   "She is, however, she's over at the other side in Mr. Tomlinson's room. He's her favorite teacher and she goes there every art class and sometimes when her mother is late for pickup, he stays with her. I can take you to his room."   "Louis Tomlinson?" Harry questioned not believing it for a second   "Well, she calls him Mister Tommy."   "Oh that's- no kidding yeah she told me about him. He gives her candy whenever she gets a good score on her writing or reading." Harry said grinning   "That's him. He seems to be everyone's favorite. I'll take you to him-"   "No, it's okay. Can you just tell her I stopped by? I don't want to disturb her."   "Are you sure?"   "Yeah, it's fine. Thank you, Amy." Harry left the building and headed to his Murano. He waited in the parking lot for a little while as he went through their emails over the past few days. Harry had told Louis his name and that he worked as a doctor. He wanted to get into neonatal care, he already had the training and everything he needed there just hadn't been an opening yet, but the hospital was expanding their Neonatal Ward and Harry had already talked to his higher ups about working there. When he finally got to the cafe, he was only a few minutes later because he got lost in his own head in the parking lot. Harry got out of the car and headed inside up to the front desk. Louis' Gmail account had a picture of himself so when he looked around the cafe it was easy to spot Louis sitting at a booth as he looked down at his phone. Harry grabbed his cup and headed to the booth nervously then set the mug down and slid into the other side. Louis looked up from his phone and smiled.   "Hey." Harry said   "Hi. Sorry I was texting one of the nursery staffs about Freddie. He had a rough night last night so he's having a bad day today."   "Is he okay? Bad dream or something?" Harry asked concerned   "He has a problem of staying asleep, we live in the apartment complex and our upstairs neighbors stay up all night yelling at their game system."   "Melatonin. My mom swears by it when I was a toddler. I had to give mine some when she refused a nap even though she was exhausted a few years ago." Harry told him   "They have melatonin for kids?"   "Yeah, definitely get some for him if he wakes up at odd hours of the night. Also, you know my daughter."   "I do? I know a few Year 1, but not a lot. Who is she?" Louis asked   "Maddison Styles." Louis eyes widen and he grinned   "Yeah, I was just with her. She comes to see me every Tuesday and Thursday during her art class. She has a hard time concentrating in the room, so I took her to mine. I have a free period anyway, so I don't mind."   "Yeah, she's too much like me. Her and I have a sensory overwhelm with too much noise. We also have dyslexia, terrible dyslexia, mine is controlled most of the time now, but she's not doing so good with her reading or writing because she doesn't get at home help."   "Yeah, I figured that out when she wrote her name as Mabbison or Wappison more than a few times." Louis said grinning making Harry laugh nodding   "I had to get five different papers for her birth signing because I was so emotional when I was spelling her name, I messed it up. My mom had to take me to a quiet room and call me down before letting me write again. If was horrible. My patients look at my writing and I can see their confusion build as they try to decipher my spelling." Louis laughed covering his mouth with his hand, "anyway um I know this was meant to be a casual meeting to make sure we're not pedophiles or murders or whatever, but I did bring some copies of things just in case you want to see it. I'm not trying to make her out to be a horrible person, these are just some of the things I had copies of at home."   "Oh, now that I know you're Madison's dad and having met her mother I agree with you. She's a horrible person. I hate her. Today for example Maddison came to school in a dress without a jacket and without leggings. She was freezing, the school wasn't letting kids inside yet, so I let her in the side door to my classroom and gave her some of Freddie's sweatpants I keep in my car. Poor thing is in 3t sweatpants that stop at her shins."   "I have black leggings and a jacket in my car if you can give them to her. I always keep a small totes of season clothes for her just in case anything happens. Usually, the school calls me and tells me if something like this happens and usually, I'm at work so I have to ask someone to bring them for her. A few days ago, her teacher called me and told me Maddie came to school in dirty clothes and when I got there Maddie was in the nurses’ station crying. Apparently, her mother hadn't washed her clothes and that was all she had there. I called her as soon as I left the school and told her is, she didn't wash my daughter's clothes by the end of the day I'd report her to child services. Needless to say, that hasn't happened again, but September hasn’t even ended yet so who knows."   "Yeah, I can take them to her. I don't see how a parent can do such a thing. I always wash Freddie's clothes first then I do his bed sheets then I do the towel then I do my clothes and bedsheets last."   "Yeah, I wash her stuff at my house every two weeks so if I get her out of the blue, she has clean clothes and sheets."   "How long has it been since you last had her?"   "Her mother dropped her off at the hospital when I was working a few weeks ago but she came back right as my shift ended. Maddie was so upset because she thought she'd be able to stay the night. The last time I've had her over night was 16 months ago and I had for her two days because her mother and boyfriend were at a resort for the weekend."   "I couldn't imagine that." Louis said shaking his head, "Freddie is my world. I couldn't be separated from him. I barely manage a weekend away."   "So, does he call you Papa? I know that's the more traditional term for carriers."   "Yeah, most of the time. If he's upset, he'll call me mommy or mama. I am one of the lucky ones able to nurse, at least with Freddie. I heard some can't for their second child or third child. I think with every child the chances get lower. He called me mommy or mama until he was two and a half, so I think it brings him comfort. I don't mind either way."   "That's sweet. I wish I were a carrier. My sister and I had to play mommies and aunties instead of mommies and daddies because I always wanted to be the mommy. I'd shove the baby doll under my shirt and go through labor with my stepdad and everything. My mom held the seat rag to my forehead. We went all out, I demanded it. We were all convinced I was a carrier, then when I was seventeen, I  got tested and I wasn't. I was devastated. I cried so much; I remember convincing myself I was straight for years after that. That's how I got Maddison." Louis laughed unable to help himself   "You're joking."   "No. Not one bit. I thought if I wasn't a carrier there was no point in being gay, so I went straight."   "I was the complete opposite." Louis said, "I was always the daddy, I'm the oldest of five sisters and my mom finally gave me a brother a year ago. Two sets of twins. I demanded to be daddy because I didn't think I was a carrier. I thought I was straight until probably sixteen."   "Really?"   "Yeah, I just never really thought about it, I guess. My first boyfriend was when I was seventeen and we dated until he left after Freddie. I had him when I was twenty on March twenty-first and graduated early. He's turning five next year."   "You had him in school and finished your studies early?"   "Yeah, it was really hard, the first year was terrible, but I got my degree and took the first job I was offered that had the best benefits for us as a family."   "That's amazing. We had Maddison when I was in my foundation programme. I was twenty-four. She was born on May twentieth, so she'll be six two months after Freddie turns five. I started working at twenty-six. Hannah and I split then because I had to work so many night shifts, so she started cheating while I slept during the day. She took Maddie and left. We've been fighting since."   "So, you're thirty?"   "Almost thirty. Still in my twenties for four more months."   "Can't relate. Still got a few years." Louis said smirking making Harry throw a walled-up napkin at him. "Well, you look good for thirty." Louis teased   "Twenty-nine."   "Same thing." Louis said grinning as he watched Harry shake his head grinning as he stared off to the side before their eyes met. Louis knew that even if nothing came from this marriage besides Harry gaining his daughter, it wouldn't be a horrible marriage of convenience. Which made him feel better and he could tell Harry was relieved as well, both glad this wouldn't be a disaster.

 “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me.” Harry said, “Especially considering how this came to be. I mean I know you see Maddie with her mom, so you understand some of it, but if you want to ask more feel free to do so.”

 “Besides the obvious reasons why go to craigslist?” Louis asked

 “Last resort? It had to be someone my friends didn’t know so I couldn’t ask anyone at the hospital. I tried dating, but it never went past a few texts. Having a daughter that I want full custody of sort of makes men run away. They don’t understand why I can’t just get a weekend a month and be happy with it. I’ve tried explaining the situation, but they don’t get it. Then it’s also my odd hours of my schedule. I’m a doctor at the hospital so I’m off and on and on call a lot. Makes it hard. My schedule is pretty tame, but it’s a pain to get use to and stuff like that.” Harry explained

 “Yeah, I get that. With Freddie…he’s my priority and obviously before I fully agree to anything, he has to like you too, but that can wait a bit. Make sure you’re not a weird murderer or something.”

 “Fair enough.” Harry said chuckling, “So I guess um…why did you offer to help? I know with a son this makes it more delicate, I mean obviously I’m hoping once we settle in, we can try for something real, but why offer?”

 “Any parent who wants to see their child should be able to. I would help anyone who was sincere enough. If you were one of those fathers trying to take their child away from their mother out of pettiness then I’d walk out of this building, but I’ve met Hannah. I’ve seen, I’ve seen the clothes she drops her daughter off in while she’s wearing the newest Gucci purse or whatever. I’ve been talking to school about it since the first day, but there isn’t much we can do. We can record it and file it away incase you ever need it for court, but unless she comes to school with bruises or starving, we don’t have grounds to call child services.”

 “So, Freddie’s other father?”

 “If he ever contacted me, I’d let him see Freddie. I’d talk to Freddie about it first, make him go to the first meeting and if he didn’t want to see him after that? I don’t know. Freddie has asked and I told him the truth, that his other father left a few weeks after he was born. So, it’d be Freddie’s chose after the first meeting and anyone I see would obviously at least respect that. They don’t have to like it or agree with it.”

 “I think people can change if the right person comes along. I hope for Freddie’s sake he contacts you a better man than when he left, but I also hope that if he hasn’t changed that he doesn’t drag Freddie into daddy issues.” Louis cracked a smile and nodded

 “Me too. They’re not fun.”

 “No not really. My biological dad left leaving my mom to feed two kids on one minimum wage paycheck. My stepdad came along and changed our lives basically.”

 “My biological father left when I was born. My stepdad came along and gave me his last name so he’s my dad. Then he and my mom split, and mom is married to Dan now. She just had twin girl and boy two years ago in February.”

 “Awe really? That’s sweet. I’m the youngest out of two kids. I have an older sister.”

 “I’m the oldest of seven kids. Goes me, my sisters Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy are twins then Doris and Ernest are twins and my baby sister and my only baby brother.”

 “That’s a lot of sisters.”

 “Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of handling little girls. I was six when Lottie came around, so I’ve been through it all.”

 “Well then I won’t stop Maddie from painting your nails a pretty pink color when I can’t be her victim in her nail salon. If she’s still into that stuff.” The last part was said sadly as he looked away

 “She is. If she’s done with her art assignment early, then I let her color my nails with markers. It washes off by lunch, but she doesn’t need to know that. She’s great. She is one of my favorite students in that school, whenever we see each other in the halls she absolutely has to shout hi Mr. Tommy each time. My students probably think she’s my niece or something. They call me Mr. T all the time and try to encourage her to do the same however I think she’s too shy to.” Harry was grinning as he played with his napkin listening to him

 “She’s very social. Always has been. There probably isn’t a stranger in the world she wouldn’t talk to. It’s a bad and good thing. I’ve tried to explain it to her, stranger danger and everything and she understands it, but I don’t think she realizes even a little hi can be dangerous in this world these days. Her mother scares me to death, I’ve seen Maddie run right upfront of cars sometimes and I swear my heart stops.”

 “Yeah, I’ve seen her do it too and it’s always the arrival or departure teacher stopping her from getting hit. Hannah will walk her to the crossing way but not to the actual sidewalk so it’s not the easiest thing to watch when I’m on duty. We can’t leave our posts except for emergencies so I have to navigate kids and cars and then watch her and make sure she’s safe. It’s ridiculous sometimes.”

 “Well thank you for doing what you can.”

 “It’s not much, but of course. I’d do it for any kid. Just thinking about Freddie in the same situation I would probably do the same thing you are. So, for now I’ll help, Freddie is what will be the deciding factor.”

 “We’ll talk more and figure it out?”

 “Yeah of course. I should go though I need to get back early today. I forgot today is Pop quiz day, my kids are going to hate me.”

 “Don’t worry about it. Thank you, Louis.” Harry and Louis stood up and walked out together, “My number is in the file I gave you so feel free to text me instead of emailing me if you want to.”

 “Alright. Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

 “Bye.” Harry and Louis were luckily enough to have parked on opposite ends of the car park, so they didn’t have to awkwardly walk beside each other to go to their respected cars. Harry grinned as he looked at the picture of Maddie, he stole off her mother’s Facebook. It was on her fifth birthday party; one he hadn’t been invited to or hadn’t even been told about. She was dressed in a flowy baby blue dress and her hair curled and she was half smiling as she sat on a chair surrounded by a few presents. He touched the picture that was hanging about his rear-view mirror before he sighed sadly and let it fall from his fingers before he started his Murano and headed out of the car park.

#larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fake marraige au #nonfamous au #fake marriage #larries #Larry Stylinson #larry shippers #larry fic #new story #New Chapter #doctor harry styles #teacher louis #parents au #Wattpad #archive of our own

[s-horne]

21. “You’re not very intimidating.” (Steve/Tony)

Steve wasn’t a violent man by nature. He really wasn’t. He had a lot of violence in his past and had been a part of some very violent events, but he liked to think of himself as a calm and rational person. Which was why he was so very surprised by his sudden urge to commit cold-blooded murder.

It had all started about two hours before, earlier in the evening when Tony had come home. Normally, Steve couldn’t wait for when Tony would come home, even when he had to share the other man with the rest of the Avengers for family night or deal with a grumpy and sometimes downright livid Tony after a long day of meetings and idiotic board members. Any time with Tony was always going to be better than time without.

But tonight?

Tonight had Steve rethinking that assessment. Because tonight Tony had brought someone else home with him, some preppy intern supposedly working with Tony in his labs as part of a new scheme for the foreseeable future. Steve didn’t care what he was there for, to be honest, only that the man couldn’t take his hands off Tony’s arms nor his eyes from Tony’s face.

Weren’t interns meant to be kids, anyway? Steve wasn’t entirely certain on that, but he was sure that most interns weren’t 30-something men who could pass for a male model without much preparation.

“You’re late,” Clint called from the couch, throwing pieces of popcorn up into the air and ducking his head to catch them in quick succession. “The movie was meant to be started at 6.30, not 7.”

“And you’re a pig,” Tony replied easily as he flung his arm around the shoulders of the man standing next to him. As Tony’s hand curled around the man’s neck, Steve suddenly had an image of the stranger being knocked unconscious.

It was surprisingly pleasant.

“Touché.” Clint swung himself of the couch, brushing his hands over his pant legs before he stuck out his arm to Tony’s guest. “Hey man, I’m Clint.”

The man took it with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mark.”

Steve watched cautiously as Mark was introduced to the rest of the group, smiles and handshakes all around. It was a nice fantasy of Mark’s hand being crushed under Thor’s freakishly-strong grip; too bad that Thor was still on Asgard and his unsuitable-for-human handshake was there with him. Oh well. Next time.

/

“Strawberry margaritas.”

“—so when we get them back, the prints will show… I’m sorry, what?” Mark cut himself off and turned to look over at Natasha with a slightly stark-struck expression.

“I think I feel like a strawberry margarita. Have you ever had one?”

“Um, no. I can’t say that I have.” To his credit, Mark didn’t seem that startled by the sudden interruption. But then again, the man had been working with Tony Stark for a few weeks down in the labs. He was probably used to it.

“They’re so much better than regular ones,” Clint chimed in, dropping down on the couch with a fresh bowl of popcorn and throwing his legs up onto the coffee table, “and Steve makes the best ones.”

“Oh?” Mark sounded interested and Steve wanted him to choke. Just a little. Nothing too life-threatening, of course. Just enough for him to have to go home and rest.

Unfortunately, everyone turned to look at Steve right at that moment and he had to quickly school his features into some kind of proud smile.

“It’s true,” Steve said, his smile becoming a lot more real when he made eye-contact with Tony and saw his best friend’s cheeky grin. “I do.”

/

Steve had switched off after that when Bruce had started asking Mark about something or other science-related and far too complicated, so he wasn’t quite sure how he found himself suddenly in the kitchen standing over a blender making margaritas for everyone. That bit wasn’t so bad, really; he was used to making drinks for his friends. No, the bad part was the companion that had been pushed into the kitchen with him. Mark… something. He probably had a surname, but Steve hadn’t bothered to learn it. Sue him.

They worked in silence for a while, Steve squeezing fresh lemon juice and Mark slicing strawberries, until Steve was ready to throw it all in the blender. It had been a while that they’d been in there and maybe it was time that Steve made an effort at conversation.

“So, how are you finding working with Tony?”

Steve waited until Mark opened his mouth and flicked on the blender. Was it childish? Possibly. Was it fun? Absolutely.

After a moment, Steve let out a fake laugh and turned it off. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you were saying. Let’s try again. How is Tony as a boss?”

Mark only got as far as smiling and saying one word before Steve turned on the blender again. He waited until Mark politely closed his mouth again to wait for silence and then he turned off the loud appliance.

“Sorry, I just can’t get the timing right,” Steve laughed tightly, far too amused with his stupid prank for the age that he was. Mark, to his credit, joined in on the laughter.

Prick.

“Tony’s a great boss,” Mark finally got the chance to answer when Steve lifted the jug and fetched a few glasses to pour the liquid out into. “We have a lot of fun. He’s a very clever man and always knows how to have a laugh.” Mark paused and quirked a smile – Steve hated how it made his eyes even greener and hated even more how he had noticed that – before he continued, “but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

Steve wasn’t proud of the mental picture that popped into his head, but he had to admit that the idea of Mark accidentally tripping over his own feet and sprawling out on the floor in an embarrassing and ultimately career-ruining display in front of Tony and all of the Avengers, maybe even a perfectly-placed camera crew, had him grinning.

/

“Hey.”

Steve swallowed thickly and turned to face Tony, his eyes automatically taking in the flush high on the man’s cheeks and his bitten lips. He tried desperately to will away the thoughts that his traitorous mind came up as to why Tony looked so thoroughly debauched – though he didn’t succeed very well – and saluted the man with his martini glass. “Hi.”

“I, um, well, I heard something a little surprising a moment ago,” Tony started. It was so unlike him to be stuttering and unsure that Steve jolted a little in surprise and twisted on the couch to look at him intently.

“Yeah? What was that?”

Tony’s gaze was on the mug in his hands, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over the worn pattern as he spoke again. “That someone here doesn’t like Mark. And that they didn’t want him coming round again.”

Steve crafted his expression into one of forced disbelief, letting a shocked grunt pass his lips. “Oh? Wow. No way. He’s such a nice guy; no idea why anyone wouldn’t want him hanging around with us. He fits in so well as well.”

Lying had never been Steve’s forte, but he had to admit he was proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. Although, the last part hadn’t been a lie unfortunately. Mark had stayed for the movie and had somehow been convinced to hang around for the takeaway they always ordered after. Somewhere through the evening, the casual team evening had turned into a mini party and Mark had been the shining centre of attention, effortlessly charming everyone he had met. With one exception, of course.

All Steve wanted to do was throw himself down at Tony’s feet and scream that this Mark person was clearly the devil incarnate and that Tony deserved to be with someone who could treat him like the King that he was... i.e., Steve. But he didn’t; he merely swallowed a mouthful of rapidly-warming cocktail and pretended to shake his head in suspicion.

“Right.” Tony ran his tongue along his bottom lip and nodded. “Good. Great, actually, because I’m thinking of extending his apprenticeship into an actual job. If he’s working so closely with me down in R&D, he’ll be hanging around up here a lot more.”

Steve clenched his teeth with enough force to actually hurt before he managed to turn his mouth up into something he hoped was close to a smile. “That’s great. I’m so glad that you’ve finally managed to find someone to offer the position to. I know how much it’s been playing on your mind.”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded and turned to look up at Steve. “Right. That’s why I wanted to ask you, you know? I want him to get on with everyone. Those important to me. All my closest… friends.”

Steve could have cried. “That’s me,” he said. He reached out and curled his hand over Tony’s knee. “That’s always going to be me.”

 /

 “You’re not very intimidating.”

Steve bit back a sigh when Clint sidled up to him, strawberry margarita in hand and his cheeks already flushed.

“I’m not trying to be.”

Clint scoffed, “right. Like I believe that. You’re three seconds away from running over there, throwing Tony over your shoulder and carting him off to your bedroom to lock him away from the rest of the world. So what I want to know is why you aren’t being as intimidating as we all know you can be. You could have this Mark guy running away screaming with one glare. So, why aren’t you?”

Steve let his shoulders slump and stole Clint’s margarita. “He’s just so damn nice,” he moaned, downing the drink and thrusting the glass back at Clint with a frustrated sigh. Damn, how he wished Thor was back on Midgard with his magic getting-Steve-drunk mead. “How am I meant to be mean to him? Every time I go to glare at him or say something cutting, he flashes a smile or…”

“Or he makes Tony laugh and you would rather see Tony happy than let yourself be.”

“Aw, crap.” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned at Clint’s surprisingly-astute suggestion. “Are there any margaritas left?”

 /

 “He’s straight.”

Steve startled and looked to his left to see Bruce leaning against the bar by his side. “What?”

“Mark,” Bruce said with a small smile, holding out a beer in Steve’s direction. “He’s straight. Married, actually. Got a kid and everything.”

Huh. Steve hadn’t seen that coming.

Not that he cared, mind you. Steve didn’t care about Mark in any way, no Sir. It was a profession interest that had Steve watching his every move and fully appraising all the ways that he touched Tony – a tap on his arm or a brush of his hand being the most common, if anyone cared. Steve just didn’t want anybody working with Tony that was going to hurt the other man or get too close and compromise the Avengers. That was all it was. Professional.

Steve suddenly realised that his face was probably showing something a little too revealing and he tried to school his features into a mask of nonchalance. When he snuck a look at Bruce out of the corner of his eye, the man’s amused grin told Steve that he hadn’t been too successful with his attempt.

“You know he likes you,” Bruce said nonchalantly, as though he was commenting on the weather and not changing the way Steve viewed his closest friend. He kept up the faux-casual tone even as Steve choked and spluttered on his drink.

“You’re all he ever talks about with Mark down in the lab. Even when I’m there, Tony just can’t seem to control himself. It’s Steve this and Steve that; ‘did you know Steve had done this’ or ‘can you believe Steve had said that’? Mark created a betting pool, actually, to see when Tony was going to suck up enough courage to ask you out.”

Bruce took a sip of his own garishly-pink cocktail and met Steve’s eyes. “In fact, though I’m pretty sure it’s cheating and definitely in his own interests for the sake of winning the loot, Mark’s nearly convinced him it’s time to confess.” Bruce fished out a slice of strawberry from the bottom of his drink and popped it in his mouth, chewing happily. “Just saying.”

“Huh.” Steve took a taste of his beer thoughtfully, his mind playing over everything that Bruce had just said. His eyes danced out over the room, landing on where Tony was tucked up under Mark’s arm and laughing brightly as Clint re-enacted some dramatic tale.

So maybe Mark wasn’t the spawn of Satan himself, after all. “Well, how about that?”

#I wrote a thing #march madness #stony fic #stevetony fic #stony fic rec #stevetony fic rec #Steve Rogers #tony stark #clint barton #bruce banner #original male character #jealous steve rogers #stony crack #i am gonna get hate for this i know it #stony au

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 43

With one less thing to worry about, that’s exactly what you did. It still bothered you. A little. In the back of your head with everything else you’d buried. It probably wasn’t healthy to carry on that way, but you had very little other options. What Peggy had said when her mind had been certain and clear disturbed you. She knew more than she’d ever say- perhaps more than she’d ever be able to say. And it was obvious she was going to lose more with every passing day. But you couldn’t bother her over it.

 She’d sent a letter asking you to come.

She’d then told you in person to let it go- because you shouldn’t do that to him.

 So you wouldn’t. Not right now, anyway.

 October first was there before you knew it, and so was the relaunch of the Stark Expo- and its weekend long celebration. This time you’d gotten Tony to opt for something a little more subtle. No landing onto a platform as Iron Man. Just a nice speech with the two of you thanking everyone for their patience as you got the Expo up and running. Reintroducing its main mission of running over the course a year to bring all sorts of technological marvels to the forefront.

Of course, you made sure to invite one very special guest. “Pepper make sure to mail Tony’s thank you and three year long Expo passes to the Parker family.” You’d tracked down their address easily, and gotten Tony to scribble his signature on a very well thought out and sweet letter- of your own design, of course. Encouraging Peter to look towards the future, thanking him for all his help and his courage, and to go after whatever his heart desired.

While you had no idea if he was attending the opening ceremony that night, you imagined his little smiling face in the crowd regardless as you and Tony welcomed everyone and promised much fun and excitement in the coming year. Especially over the weekend, where fall themed activities were happening- free of charge, of course.

With everything up and running and no foreseeable nonsense… one thing off your endless list. What a joy that was. A nice quiet celebration was called for that evening.

Of course, the end of the month heralded another straight upward rocket in stocks as sales came in.

“Iron Man costumes sold out nationwide.”

“Of course they did.”

And so you made sure at Stark Industries, “Every kid that visits gets one piece of candy. ...but Iron Mans get two.”

A little marketing never hurt anyone.

As November crept in, you made sure to do your due diligence as a citizen and get caught in a photo-op heading into a voting booth on the second. Now more than ever the next president of the United States was an important pick. The world was shifting beneath your feet. And while your interests and corporate interests had always been important before, now an entirely new problem emerged.

You needed someone your side. Someone who would go to bat for you and Tony when this superhero business went screwy- and it would. It wasn’t a matter of where, it was a matter of when. And you needed a person on your side who understood Tony was doing his best. Someone as far away from Stern as possible.

Tony had gone on a couple of good will missions to sit down and have a drink with the candidates. You’d trusted his opinion when he’d told you Matthew Ellis was the guy.

So that’s who you voted for.

It was almost no surprise that with Stark Industries backing the man, quiet some ways and obvious in others, he went on to be the people’s choice for their next leader.

With the arrival of the holiday months, things became a little bit easier. Not because the people around you were working hard or anything, just the opposite. Vacation days started rolling in aplenty, even before the actual holidays arrived. But with less people around you were able to focus on more important things. Working yourself was sometimes much easier.

Pepper had flown home to a happy family and you…

“LUNA what’s left on my schedule today?” Stark Industries was a ghost town. Quiet, blissfully, allowing you to work through a fair amount of paperwork and get a lot of things done. Interesting once how the noise was gone you were able to do just so much more.

“Nothing, ma’am.” But this…

“No- that’s not true. I have that NPR interview in twenty minutes, don’t I?” At the very least you remembered that one because your brief notes were sitting in front of you. It was mostly just going to be a soft talk about how the tower construction in NYC was starting very soon and how the company was doing well.

“Not that I see.”

Clicking over your schedule on the computer- feeling the strangeness in having to do so manually for the first time in what felt like forever- you were just as surprised to see it clear there. “Mn. No… could you do a reset? This isn’t right. I know I have that interview.”

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

Were things really going this far awry without Pepper’s guiding hand? Unthinkable, almost. You were sure she’d double checked things for you before she’d left. And even if she hadn’t, being useless now that you had a great PA looking after you was not good.

Moving to pick up the phone on the corner of your desk, you dialed into the personal line for your NPR interviewer today. You got put on hold for a few minutes but eventually she picked up. “You’re a little early! But we’ll be glad to have you on the show today.” Her segment hadn’t started, the two of you off-air at the moment.

“Sorry. If you want I can call back. I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for today.”

“That’s okay- and of course. Yes. Still on. Did you wanna go over some no-go areas?” A usual question for favorable partners. It’s what made interviews like these almost too easy. Sometimes you preferred the more combative people just to be able to put someone in their place.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Whatever you want to ask, go ahead.” Even trusting that she wouldn’t ask anything too callous, you knew the nature of the show, and it being Thanksgiving gave you an even gentler edge. Anyone listening right now- to this station in particular- wasn’t tuning in for a fight. And your interviewer knew that too.

“Okay, sounds great. I definitely can’t wait to ask you how things have changed since Mr. Stark announced to the world he was Iron Man a year ago.”

 Dread filled your heart.

 “...I’m sorry?”

“I know it must be very difficult to believe it was only that long ago-”

“To the day?”

“Yes. One year exactly.”

You stood very suddenly. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry- I have to go- I have to cancel- we’ll reschedule- I have to go. I’m sorry.”

She was the least important person you had to apologize to.

                                 ----------------------------------------

 Holidays had never been important. You hadn’t had anyone to celebrate them with in a long time, and Tony cared even less. Sometimes there was the occasional party you had to attend just to make a good impression but nothing personal. It wasn’t just Thanksgiving though- unfortunate as the date landing had been. It was November 25th. A moment of both your lives that you remembered so clearly-

  If I was Iron Man I’d have this girlfriend who knew my true identity. She’d be a wreck. She’d always be worrying that I was gonna die- yet sort of proud of the man I’d become. She’d be wildly conflicted- which would only make her more... -crazy about me.

Are you finished?

No, I’m not. Is this a good time for the talk? I think we should have the talk.

   It was impossible to drive fast enough, the heat of shame and anxiousness welling up inside you. Why hadn’t he said anything? Was it important to him? It must have been, for him to clear your schedule like that. And you knew now it definitely had been him.

Almost making it to the garage, “LUNA, can you touch base with JARVIS- quietly- and let me know where Tony is?”

“You don’t him to know you’re checking in?”

“No.”

Only a fraction of silence. “Tony is at home. In the kitchen.”

Not even in the lab. This was bad. You were awful. Terrible. Just absolutely fucking terrible. It might have been an easy excuse to make that you’d forgotten the date because was this really your anniversary? You hadn’t really put labels on things. It made it that much harder, right?

...but you knew. You knew in your heart if you’d been paying more attention you would have realized. That day was the day almost everything had started. That everything had changed.

In the driveway with the car parked, you nearly fell out of the door, taking a half tumble to the pavement, scurrying your way up the rest of the walk. The sun was setting. It was getting late.

“Welcome home.” JARVIS voiced overhead.

“Thank you.” No need to be impolite to him. It wasn’t his fault. Hurrying through the living room and around the bend, you smelled food. Breakfast food. Of course. “Tony, I’m-”

He was flipping over a pan of bacon. “Very sad to hear your NPR interview was canceled. I was really looking forward to that one.”

Standing at the kitchen island you looked at him helplessly. “Tony I’m sorry.”

Switching the stove top off he turned to look at you. His smile vanished. “Hey- will you relax? You look like you just ran fifteen miles.”

“That’s how I feel.” Shitty, basically. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and rounded the island, coming close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait.” You weren’t exactly sure what he was doing- probably cooking breakfast for dinner. For the both of you.

His smile soothed your very soul. Hands over your hips, he lifted you slightly and you followed his lead, sitting down on one of the stools. “I think I remember telling you I was okay to wait.” Making it clear he’d been thinking about that day, too. Because of course he had.

 Right before you pushed that button, I made peace with that the last thing I’d ever see was you. I just have to know how much longer you want me to wait. Tomorrow? Next week? A month from now? I will- I just- ...I need to know. Am I still waiting at all?

 It was only your fucking anniversary.

You settled your hands on his chest. “Right. That’s why you cleared my schedule for me?” It hurt you to smile back. You felt like you deserved to see some sort of punishment for this. Or maybe you just wanted some to make yourself feel better.

“Figured you need a little push. Or help. Whichever one is better.” His arms wound around you and you hid your face against his shirt, if only a little bit in shame. “Will you chill out? I don’t want to start off the grand couple’s adventure with deciding who gets mad over which forgotten anniversary. Because let’s face it, I’m more likely, out of the two of us.”

“But it was meeee...” Whining a little dramatically into his shirt.

His chest shook with a touch of warm laughter. “Yeah. And next year to make up for it, I’ll do the forgetting. Does that make you feel better?” When you looked up at him, his hands reached up, palms cupping the sides of your face, grinning lightly. “Seriously- knock it off, would you? You’re making me feel bad and I was the good one.”

A sigh whooshed out of your lungs. “How many more times should I say I’m sorry?” Genuinely asking him.

“None. You’re working too hard and it slipped by you. It happens. ...although.”

“Although?”

“I guess I could ask for one apology gift.”

“Anything.” At this point? Pretty much anything in the world. Even if giving him that much power was extremely dangerous.

“Keep your schedule clear for the next couple of weeks. Let’s go somewhere.”

Ah, an anniversary vacation? Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad… you found a real smile this time. “Where do you wanna go?”

He shrugged, leaning in to kiss you briefly. “Doesn’t matter. Just be with me. And I’ll be with you.”

A tough promise to make- equally for the both of you. But if he wanted to commit, you did just as much. Reaching up you wrapped your arms around his neck and the kisses moved from brief to lingering. In between one and the next, “Are we planning on sight seeing?”

“-probably won’t leave the hotel-”

“Somewhere quiet then- penthouse suite- with- ...good room service-” His lips interrupting between each thought until there simply wasn’t any left.

                                  ----------------------------------------

 It was almost no surprise that the two of you landed in another penthouse suite on 5th Ave in New York City. For some reason there was just a pull there. Probably because construction started on Stark Tower in a few weeks, and if you were planning on being holed up in one place for an anniversary vacation… it was better to be right there when the presser started. Less flight time. Easier.

At least that’s what you told yourself, and Tony. But at the very least it was about the only thing you had to explain. Because the moment after the door to the high up luxury room closed behind the two of you, there was very little coherent words had.

You slipped him out of his coat, and he helped you out of yours. The chill in the city was terrible compared to your sunny California. But even out of all your clothes, it was easy to delight in the warmth of his body right next to yours under the covers. Sometimes on top of yours. Sometimes underneath. And just the one time behind, on your hands and knees, senseless to his rhythm until his hands slid up your sides and pulled you up, backwards into him. Holding you there while his hips rolled in sweet, shallow thrusts, your head back against his shoulder, while he laid long lines of kisses to your neck.

The two of you carried on for what seemed like days just tangled in each other. Something you realized you both sorely needed. Just time with each other. Only each other. Nothing to bother you or get between you. Nothing to think about but him.

Except maybe what had brought this on.

A year. It had been a whole year since you’d kissed him and since he’d put you both on the superhero track. Crazy as that was. And getting crazier all the time. It hadn’t all been bliss, either. Most of it hadn’t even been easy. But lying in his arms as the sun set, falling asleep after another long session of skin-on-skin, your reflections led you to the same place they always did.

You loved him. And you wouldn’t change your life for anything.

                                  ----------------------------------------

 Snow was settling over the city in a thick blanket the next morning when you finally got out of your oversized bed. Tony seemed to have been up for a while already, sitting at the cozy little table by the large windows with a cup of coffee in hand. After a quick wash of your face, a little comb of what really could only be described as wild sex hair, and a brush of your teeth, you put on a robe loosely and came over to sit across from him.

His handsome smile greeted you, stirring up the same feelings the two of you had been marinating in for days now. It was dangerous, you realized, how easy it was to get swept up by him. But for now, it was just simply wonderful. He got up without a word, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, and went to the kitchen, returning with a perfect cup of coffee for you.

You thanked him with a warm murmur and an even warmer kiss that almost started a path to getting back into bed. Both disappointed and relieved he ended it when he found the sense to do so. Much like you, he’d taken to wearing a robe half open, and some pajama pants you hardly recognized. Not that it mattered. Even just to see him so relaxed and casual was a blessing. He went back to reading something on his phone and you caught yourself staring at the vision of him.

He’d let more stubble grow in, unable to effectively groom while the two of you were too caught up, and his hair was messy and wonderful. Whatever he was reading, he was intently focused on it- and despite yourself your eyes dropped lower. Catching the sight of the Arc Reactor. You thought you’d gotten used to it by now, after everything. But, even so…

“You ever wonder what would have happened if that hadn’t happened?” The fact that he caught you staring without even looking at you put guilt hot and heavy into your chest.

“No.” Surprisingly, this was the truth. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had time to dwell on all the what ifs, or maybe it was just that you were too happy to do so. Either way… “Should I? Are you?”

Anniversaries often brought about reflections, you guessed…

“Not much to think about.” He was probably right about that. The future of that timeline was probably bleak. He’d have carried on being an arrogant weapon mongering jackass. And you… would either still be playing ball for his team or would have walked. Not the happiest of paths.

And yet. “But you are.” Otherwise why bring it up? “Is something wrong?” Should you take offense to the fact that the two of you had been having sex for days and now he was wondering how he’d ended up here?

“Not wrong.” He put his phone down, reaching to put his hand over yours. Soothing your feelings at least. “Did I ever tell you I thought about you in that cave?”

The words struck you hard, like a hand across the face. Such a dynamic shift in tone. That’s what he was thinking about? “No-? I don’t think so- I can’t imagine why.” Anxiety spiked in a cold wave. You hadn’t been expecting this, and you weren’t sure you were prepared for it. Tony had yet to really talk about his kidnapping. His torture. How he’d ended up like this.

“They had a man there. Yinsen. He performed the initial surgery on me to keep me alive. I was part of the problem that had burned his village to the ground. And I kept thinking about every time you fought with me. And that you’d been right the whole time.”

You were stuck in place while he spoke so softly and so intimately about what had happened to him. Unable to move, really. And you really had no idea what to say to it. But he’d said something like this to you before, when he’d come back. Now you fully understood why.

 You were the only one not looking the other way on me. Even on my payroll. You knew what was right. And you never compromised.

 He really had been mulling it over.

“Is Yinsen…?” Alive somewhere? You hoped. But you also knew that was not how this ended.

“He helped me get out. He didn’t make it.” His eyes finally broke from yours, going downcast.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Tony.” Truly.

There was a long pause that you let hang, unsure of what to say. His reflections cast a soft shade of blue around the room that you tried not to get caught up in, inevitable though it was. Even after all this time he seemed to be struggling with the very thing that had brought you both right where you were.

“Tony...”

His eyes lifted, and the bare smile he was wearing wasn’t untruthful, but it was pained. “The last words he said to me were, don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.”

“You haven’t.” Quick. Quick because you were absolutely sure. Tony hadn’t always been a good person, but he was much better now. And getting better every day. Doing the best with what he had, and making the best choices he could … relatively speaking.

That small smile turned into a warm glow and the blue dissipated all at once. “I know.” His fingers linked with yours, just holding on to you.

It all made sense now. It was more than just the fact that he’d gotten kidnapped. Tortured. This. This that had happened to him at the same time had caused him to hit the ground running as soon as he’d gotten home. Even if it had caused a lot of trouble- and in some ways still was. But it also explained why he’d been running so hard towards you.

Until that time right before the press conference when you’d finally found yourself running in the same direction.

He’d latched on to the one constant in his life both before and after.

You.

“I love you, Tony. I wouldn’t change what happened. I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

His grin was light, a little quirk at the corner of his mouth as he lifted your hand closer and pressed a kiss to the back. “Me, too. Just checking.”

Tilting your hand from his, you turned it inward to cup his cheek in your palm. He easily leaned in, eyes dropping half-lidded. “Happy anniversary.”

Sliding his hand over yours at his cheek, he kept you there, turning just a little to press yet another kiss, this time to the bottom of your palm. “Happy anniversary. Back to bed?”

You sensed the jittery anxiousness in him after unloading something that heavy that he’d been carrying around. He wanted to run and put it away again. “In a little while. Let me finish my coffee.” Getting up from your spot you moved to sit right next to him, laying your head on him as his arm came around you. “Let’s just be for a little while.” He picked up his own mug, taking a slow sip, nodding in agreement. In the quiet, you let him know.

 I love you.

 Eyes closed, you felt his smile, and the soft oncoming roll of contentment. The evaporation of that nervousness.

“I love you, too.”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Forty Three

[ironstrange-is-the-endgame]

#5 or #79 ironstrange? Thanks

I kinda did both, ft. DUM-E because he’s a good boy! Also, that’s Illuminati based cause I know nothing about the comics, but I love BlackBolt from the Inhumans TV show. 

5. “Don’t yell at me like I’m a child!!” - “DON’T THROW SCISSORS!”

79. “Are you high?” - “I’m just so fucking tired.”

He had been a difficult week, for Stephen, and the last thing he wanted to do was to go to an Illuminati meeting. He would have ditched it if only they didn’t manage to have both Namor and BlackBolt on Earth at the same moment.

He wiped out some of the alien slime that managed to stick on his clothes despite everything and walked straight toward the secret room in the Compound where they were used to meet. Stephen’s eyes trailed down to where he was used to wearing the Eye of Agamotto. He didn’t use to bring it with him any longer after Thanos, and everyone was more than fine with that. Having an Infinity Stone hanging to his neck wasn’t the most subtle move.

What he didn’t expect when he reached the secret meeting room floor, though, was to see the light of Tony’s lab on. He was in late, and while Stark wasn’t so famous for respecting the meetings time everyone knew how long could take him while he was working with his tech. The last thing he expected to hear while walking in front of the lab, though, it was Friday’s voice telling her creator to not touch a sharp object. That had the Sorcerer raise an eyebrow and change his destination.

Their relationship had been weird since all the Snapped people came back. The prize Strange’s choices required was too high for the Avengers. With Steve’s death, most of the Avengers left the Compound and Pepper asked for a divorce shortly after, when she realized he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Tony gained the full custody for Morgan, which was what he wanted since the begin, but Stephen couldn’t help but think that it was his fault. Which was why, despite everything, their relationship never went further than acquaintances. Stephen could live with that.

“Don’t yell at me like I’m a child!” Tony Stark was, very childish, yelling at his wall the moment Stephen rounded the corner and found himself in front of the lab surprising open door. He supposed it was because he let his children full lab access and then he just forgot to close it when they were sleeping.

“DON’T THROW SCISSORS AT DUM-E, THEN!” The volume of Friday’s voice compared with Tony’s and it was the first time Stephen heard the AI scream, especially when the receiving end of that tone was Tony. “Boss,” She added, a moment later, more calmly.

“They are not scissor and DUM-E would have been able to catch them,” Tony replied, and it was frankly amusing seeing him fight against his bots.

“And why were you throwing stuff at DUM-E?” Stephen decided to make his presence clear o the other man. Bad, bad idea, considering that in a beat of the eyes he found the other man pointing a repulsor at him.

He was fucking exhausted, and he wanted just that thing to be over so that he could go to the Sanctum and sleep for the foreseeable future. Which was probably just a couple of hours considering his previous experiences. “Strange? What are doing here?”

Stephen moved a hand, indicating the other end of the hallway. “The meeting.”

“Wait, which meeting? Did I forgot about it again?” Tony sounded extremely upset at the sole idea. Which was weird for Stark, but, again everyone changed a lot after the Infinity War.

“The meeting, with Charles and Black Bolt,” He explained, and when the questioning glance in Tony’s eyes did anything but intensified

“Steph, what are you speaking about?” The question sounded filled with worry, as if Tony knew anything about the people he just mentioned, which was crazy, totally and completely, they met a couple of months before in the room at the end of that very same hallway.

“The Illuminati, we needed to meet together because everyone is in town, I was going to reach the conference room but I heard you yelling at Friday so I thought it was a good idea remind -”

And then the man moved closer, reducing the distance between them and pushed his hands against Strange’s chest. It was weird, Tony barely looked at him outside the meetings and Stephen knew he must be fine with that because he lost his wife because of him. “Stephen, I’ve no idea what are you speaking about.”

And then a thought, a dreadful one crossed his mind. It wasn’t the first time it happened: the futures he saw on Titan started to merge one in the following and he found himself standing in places he didn’t know, waiting for something that wasn’t supposed to happen in that timeline. It just was the first time it happened with someone who wasn’t Wong. “Bruce…? Did something happened in Las Vegas with Bruce?”

“I think he saved my ass a couple of time before I got kicked out from a casino or two,” Tony answered, and it was clear that he was half-joking but was, at the same time, fucking worried. Stephen hated to be the cause of that.

“So, he didn’t destroy it, never?”

“No,” A billion of questions crossed Tony’s whiskey brown eyes. “Stephen, is everything fine? Are you high? Because you have red eyes and your pupils are dilated and you look high.”

“I’m just so fucking tired,” He let out, in a barely audible whisper. “I’m sorry, Tony, I just…”

A hand came to rest on his arm and Stephen’s eyes ran on it a moment later. It was a good sight, Tony’s callous hand wrapped around his robes. “Stephen, talk to me.”

“It’s just… Another future,” He answered, and a sad light replaced the worried one in Stark’s eyes.

“Ok,” He said. “You are staying for the night, and tomorrow we will speak about this. I don’t want to see you like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine. I got confused about which time of the day is all the times,” It was a poor attempt to make things better, but Stephen was grateful for it anyway.

send me a ship and a number for a drabble!

#ironstrange #strangeiron #tony stark #stephen strange #anonymous #asks

[synnefo-nefeli]

Strange Days Drabble: Clay and Apollo

Hey everyone.  Just a little something I wrote up...not sure if this will go into Stranger Stories.  I just wanted to write something about Pre-Strange Days when Clay and Apollo in college.

Title: Stranger Stories: Clay and Apollo

Pairings: one-sided Claypollo, if you count someone having difficulty sussing out their actual feelings.

Rating: PG-13, for 19 year olds, being 19 year olds lol.

He pulled the key from its hiding place in the back of the fuse panel, thankful as always that some RA or security guard hadn’t discovered the copied key.  Most dorms at Ivy University had been upgraded to key card locks, but those were the nicer and pricier dorms with better security and a predominately Omega and female Beta population.   And there was no place that Clay wanted to be further away from at the moment.   

Apollo’s dormitory lay on the older part of the campus, built in the 1970s and forever trapped in that decade, with its painted cinder block walls, and old key and lock doors.  His friend could have opted for one of the nicer, more modern dorms- Apollo’s student loans would have provided for that- but Apollo, determined to get out of school as quickly and with as little debt possible, chose the cheapest living space possible that his scholarships and part-time job at the school’s law library could cover.

No light spilled from under the door, and his texts to Apollo, announcing that Clay intended to crash at Apollo’s dorm remained unread.

Either Apollo was still at work or his friend’s was being distracted by some video game or anime.  Regardless, if he was home or not, Apollo’s door was always open to Clay- as it always had been since the incident during their senior year of High School.

Clay’s extended family had arrived on his birthday, with marriage and breeding contract prospects for their heir.  One of his uncles had actually arrived *with* the father of one of the candidates.  The thought of being married off or prospect of having pups at the age of seventeen terrified him, and so Clay fled the first chance he had to Apollo’s room at the foster home.  

He’d stayed there until his father had assured Clay, that he had postponed any talk about breeding contracts or marriage arrangements for the foreseeable future.  That was 2 years ago, and he was well into college and of age...there was only so much longer Clay felt he could hold the vultures off his scent.

Clay fit the key into the lock and opened Apollo’s door, to find Apollo home, sitting on his bed with his laptop frantically typing away.  The stacks of paper surrounding his friend and the stale take-out boxes strewn around the room indicated that Apollo was in ‘the zone” for a while now.

“You know, you should at least knock- I could have had a guest over,” Apollo mumbled, eyes not leaving the screen.  

That statement made Clay laugh, the happy feeling a moment’s distraction from his current situation,

“Please- you’re a first year law student, who crammed his undergraduate into two years, and immediately started Law School a week after your Summer Undergrad Graduation. Also you work when you’re not in class or studying in the library- the likelihood of you screwing around- literally or figuratively,” Clay grinned,  throwing his backpack, duffle, and supplies, into the corner of the dorm’s small bedroom “is nil.”

Apollo greeted that statement with an eyeroll, and him scooting over on the bed in invitation for Clay.

He clambered up onto Apollo’s skinny twin bed, displacing the papers and an empty soda can, to nuzzle his friend.  Apollo made a weary sigh, but allowed it- Apollo always allowed Clay this sort of affection, and Clay despite having other Beta friends only sought out this sort of greeting from Apollo.

There was just something about his childhood friend that put Clay at ease, no matter how anxious or stormy Clay’s moods could become.  Apollo, despite attributing the ability to Clay, had a away of bringing out the best in others.

Apollo kept typing, “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t have been up to something on my own-”

Clay leaned on Apollo’s narrow shoulder, “Mmm...you know that I wouldn’t care if you were doing that- it’s only natural.  I’m an Alpha after all-”

The narrow shoulder shoved back at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?…” and went on typing, body posture allowing for Clay’s head to remain on Apollo’s shoulder while the other kept working.

“We-us Alphas and Omegas- used to mate out in the open in front of our packs...sex is a normal part of life, so why be shy about it? Wasn’t until you puritanical Betas became the majority population and spoiled all our fun….”

Apollo kept typing, failing to rise to Clay’s point,

“Once, some Beta diplomat to an Alpha kingdom nearly died of shock when he came into the throne room to treat, finding the King sitting up in his throne, cock out as their Omega concubines pleasured him.  And it wasn’t a show of dominance or whatever, it was just commonplace in the court, that you just took care of things right then and there in the open. With a partner or your hand-”

“Damn it, Clay!” Apollo yelped suddenly pounding on the “backspace” of his keyboard, “I started writing what you were saying-” then he mumbled, “Now that’s an impression for whoever reads this…

‘Dear Hiring Manager…” Apollo pretended, ‘ I believe I am the most ideal candidate because of my experience with the Alpha King and his cock…’”  he groaned, “I think I’d have to kill myself if I sent this out-”

Clay scanned Apollo’s screen...legal jargon there, ‘why believe I am the best candidate’ here… ‘my availability to work can be immediate…” then he remembered,

“Summer Associate applications?” Clay asked, “I thought you said that they weren’t due until next semester-”

“This one offers part-time during the semester and  full-time summer associate positions…” Apollo said quickly, “if I get picked I’ll have a rolling 3-month contract, with possibility to work through school and be hired after law school...it’s a really prestigious and competitive program with one of the best defense lawyers in the area...and it pays as if I were a barred junior-associate attorney.”

Clay whistled at that, “That should take a sizable chunk out of your debt. Where is this?”

“Gavin and Co. Law Firm...it’s down town but that’s a small inconvenience to pay for a great opportunity.  Mr. Gavin is turning out to be a legend…”

Clay noted both the excitement and waver in Apollo’s voice- he hadn’t sounded like that since finding out that his hero, Phoenix Wright, had been disbarred.  It was good to hear that Apollo had found another lawyer to inspire him on his pursuit towards his dream of becoming an attorney.

Apollo shifted beneath him, to finally look up at him, dry-eyed from staring at a screen all day,

“You’re warm,” his friend noted, raising a hand to feel at Clay’s forehead, “you sick?”

Clay shook his head, “No...it’s just you know...that time of the season…”  he looked at the time on Apollo’s computer.  It was almost time to take his pills… he had to be more careful over the next few weeks. Take his suppressants, eat, rest, go to class, keep a low profile and not run into an Ome-

A muffled buzz came from the depths of his bag, Apollo stared at the items, most likely noticing them for the first time, “Not that I mind you crashing here, but who are you running from? Family or-”

Clay slunk back, almost sheepishly, his back hitting against the cold cinder block wall, “Ah.  No one-” he rubbed at his neck- stupid of him to do so because he saw the muscles around Apollo’s eyes twitch and his friend subconsciously grab at the bracelet at his wrist,

He sighed, defeated, “Uhhh remember that cute Redhead from that party I dragged you to last spring?  The one at the Rugby House?”

Apollo rolled his eyes, “Which one- the one with the ‘big rack’ or the one with the ‘big green eyes?’”

“Green Eyes…Cassandra” Clay stammered, “I kinda hooked up with her-”

“I know you did…” Apollo snorted, “I thought it was only a one-time thing with her…”

“Me too…” Clay swallowed, “and then the Spring Season hit when we were both in chem lab that afternoon…and the next thing I knew we were back at her place and I kinda…”

“Kinda what?” Apollo’s tone was exasperated as he turned his attention back to his typing, “don’t tell me you knotted in her…”

When Clay failed to respond, Apollo’s sigh was deep, “C’mon Clay, you have to be more responsible than that-  I mean you’re the one who runs the moment your family starts badgering your dad about getting you a mate, yet the season comes and you go and knot up any Omega?”

Clay groaned, “I don’t know what happened- she just smiled at me and she smelled super good-” he buried his head in his hands, “you have no idea what hell I do through every four months...I think she used some sort of booster to up her pheromone game...I couldn’t resist her. One smile and the next thing I know, I’m under her-”

“I don’t need to the specifics-” Apollo coughed and then looked at Clay with concern, “She’s not pregnant is she?”

Clay shook his head, “No, she’s not...but she wants me to be hers for the season and I am really not interested in her-”

“Really?” Apollo’s tone of disbelief was sincere,

He rubbed at his neck, “I mean...I took care of her when her heat was bad and took her out a couple of times after our hook-up.  She was hinting that she wanted us to continue, and I turned her down...she was cute and all; a good time where it mattered...but not someone I was interested in pursuing.”

Clay sighed, that was always the problem in the end.  No matter how cute the Omega was or how much fun they had in bed, after the heat of the moment left, Clay found himself listless and uninterested.

His partners suddenly not measuring up to whatever odd standard Clay set for himself.  A standard Clay was unsure if he even knew what he wanted, although a niggling thought tugged not for the first time at the back of his mind  as he watched Apollo continue to work.

Things would be so much easier,if you had turned out to be an Omega…

Clay slid off the bed to grab the bag of assorted snacks he had stocked up on at the local Asian Grocery Store and 7-11 near campus.  Apollo may frown at how unhealthy most of the snacks were, but Clay needed his comfort food and calories to get through mating season. Plus he’d brought some things he knew Apollo liked.  A small offering for the imposition that Apollo would insist didn’t exist.

Apollo was family, the closest thing either of them had to a brother.  They protected eachother, but Clay couldn’t help himself in times like these about how much his life would be set, had his friend presented as an Omega.

Not that his family would object to him being with a Beta guy, if Clay so wanted it, but- that was the problem...when he thought about Apollo in terms of being a Beta, Clay knew that his feelings for Apollo skewed towards the familial.  

There was something, Clay supposed, alluring about binding Apollo to him and his family, if Apollo had been an Omega.  

His dad would have certainly loved it...Clay knew his father- perpetually sullen since the day his own mate died; hanging on each day only for Clay’s sake- was disappointed when Clay assured him that Apollo was indeed a Beta.  His dad loved Apollo, and would have loved to have had Apollo for a son-in-law, with grandchildren on the way for him to dote over.

Clay frowned at the thought.  It would have been perfect...but it wasn’t meant to be.  No use in impossibly daydreaming about having pups with Apollo.  And that was before the messy feelings of how he really felt towards Apollo came up- did he want Apollo as his mate because Clay loved him romantically?  Or was he only feeling this way towards Apollo because it was mating season, and Clay wanted an easy way to deal with stress of the season?

And if, Clay actually loved Apollo romantically, wanted Apollo sexually- there was the issue of progeny, Clay was the heir he would have to explain to his Beta husband why he needed to find an Omega to breed with...that his family wouldn’t accept adopting a child as Clay’s heir. Something, orphaned Apollo, raised in a predominately Beta community, would, not no matter how many ways Clay explained the little of his culture that interested Apollo, understand.

Clay pulled out a canned coffee and a bento box for himself and Apollo, deciding it was better to heat up their dinner then selfishly dwell on the inconveniences of Apollo’s Beta-ness .

“You okay?” Apollo asked, his eyes actually meeting Clay’s.  Apollo set the laptop aside and slid off the bed, legs wobbling Apollo walked feeling back into them.  

“Yeah,” Clay said handing Apollo one of the cans of coffee, “just thinking about what I need to get done over the next few weeks and how I’m going to do it without my rut bothering me,”

His friend eagerly cracked it open and chugged down the sugary caffeinated drink, “How can I help?”

 By being my Omega?  Clay shrugged, “Just make sure to kick my ass out of bed- these suppressants tend to make me sleep longer than usual, when I, y’know...don’t have an outlet.”

Apollo nodded, “I’ll let you know my schedule, so you can have some privacy-”

“Oh c’mon, Pollo, I am not going to beat it in your room and bed-”

Apollo snorted, “I hope not- I do have a shower, you know.”

Clay burst out laughing.  Apollo only smirked and added, “I’ll expect you to clean the shower afterwards...”

Well that was certainly one way to deal with a major problem during mating season.  It was safer here than jerking off in the gym’s showers or getting near any potentially in heat Omegas trying to burn off their heat through exercise.

“Thanks, Pollo.  You’re the best.”

Apollo only hummed, stretching a bit and letting out a tired noise.  Clay noted the way his friend’s faded sweatshirt rucked up to expose the skin of Apollo’s belly and the line of his left hip.

Clay swallowed and maneuvered around Apollo in the small space of the dorm to fish out his suppressants from backpack.

***

“How late are you planning to stay up?” They were back on Apollo’s bed and Clay was on his side, facing away from Apollo and the bright screen of the laptop.  The warmth of Apollo’s body brushed against Clay’s overly sensitized skin.

“Not much later,” Apollo mumbled, “gotta check this one more time-”

“You said that an hour ago,” Clay said, “you should get some sleep and then look it over in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“I’m too paranoid that I’ll miss any reference to King Alphas and their dicks.”

Clay snorted and it earned him an a sharp elbow from Apollo, “Give me a few moments and I’ll be there to cuddle.”

It was said sarcastically;  Apollo never actively encouraged Clay’s snuggling, rather he tolerated it after years of sleepovers where Clay ultimately “koala”ed onto Apollo while they slept.  Clay had tried to explain what “spooning” meant, but it only served to fluster his best friend.  So they left it at this-  the unspoken agreement that Clay would ultimately spoon Apollo in their sleep.

“You’re too good to me,” Clay mumbled as he shifted around on the lumpy mattress.  Beyond him the laptop closed and the nightstand lamp was shut; soon enough, Apollo was joining him under the covers, his back flush against Clay’s,

“What are friends for?” it came out half-earnestly, the rest a yawn.

Quiet for a few moments before Apollo spoke again, “I’ll help you with yours?”

“My what?” Clay turned to look over at his friend, whose eyes were already closed.

“Your internship application for the space center...you’ve started on it right?”

Whoops.  He’d forgotten about the application.  Normally he would blame it on the busyness of the season but he knew Apollo would spot the lie even with his eyes closed.  It wasn’t his fault- the internship was all but his, Mr. Cosmos and Starbuck had told him that...Clay only had to formally apply so the University could count it towards Clay’s program, as well as make him and the Space Center eligible for student program grants.

A sigh, “I’ll help you start it after I turn in my application to Mr. Gavin and before your brain turns to hormonal mush.”

Clay wrapped his friend in a hug- Apollo already half asleep that he didn’t protest the koala coming early, “thanks, Pollo,” Clay grinned and nuzzled Apollo.

Sweet.

Clay’s eyes opened at the scent he’d caught.  It was weak...but...sweet… he sat up, momentarily leaving Apollo to drift further into sleep, and sniffed again.  The scent was gone now.

A few minutes passed, before Clay deemed the scent to be gone.  He laid back down wondering what he had smelled.

Besides him, Apollo shifted, rolling towards Clay and curling up on his side.  Apollo looked so small and sweet like this, and again Clay found himself wishing that his friend was an Omega...Apollo certainly had the build and look of an Omega.

He allowed Apollo to cuddle up to him, before Clay wrapped his arms around Apollo once more and settled them under the covers.

On the edge of sleep, Clay thought he smelled the sweet scent again, but soon he’d joined Apollo deep in sleep.

#ace attorney #clay terran #apollo justice #claypollo #strange days #omegaverse #abo #a/b/o verse #ficlet #fanfic #writing

[amelia-blackshepherd]

Number Four - part 5

Sorry for being a little late posting this part. We are getting closer and closer to the end of this journey. Enjoy and let me know what you think of this chapter. 

“Grey! Peirce!” I yell after them as I jog to catch up with them in the hospital hallway. They both stop and turn to look at me with questioning looks on their faces, “Board room meeting at 8:00, get anyone you can to come.” I say as I catch them and immediately stride off in search of others.

“Why?” “What’s this about, Hunt?” They both inquiry.

“I’m doing something.” I say, although I elaborate when I notice I am being greeted with their confused looks, “I’m doing what you told me, Meredith, you told me I HAD to do something. Well I can’t figure this out on my own. So, I’m enlisting help.”

“Alright we’ll be there.” Grey confirms, as I head off towards the pit to start my shift and hopefully enlist recruits.

The day seems to drag by slowly, a few traumas come in, but it isn’t crazy today. I think the reason time seems to be passing so slowly, is because I keep checking the clock to see what time it is relation to my PLANS-TO-IMPROVE-AMELIA’S-SITUATION meeting. Currently I am in trying to pass time and eat some food in the cafeteria. I haven’t seen Amelia all day, but she had two scheduled surgeries, so that is not a surprise, although I wonder if she has eaten today.

The concerned part of my brain begins to take over, and I debate whether I should go get Amelia some food, just in case she hasn’t eaten. However, before I can get back in the cafeteria food line, my pager starts to beep at me. I groan, when I see the message from the chief: ‘My office. Now.’ I instantly know it isn’t anything I have done, not to sound cocky, I just know that Amelia has been butting heads with everyone, that includes nurses, daycare workers, residents, attendings, school teachers and even the chief.

I grab my lab coat off the cafeteria chair, and head towards the chief’s office. I make the familiar trek, which lately I have found myself doing at least once a week. I knock on Bailey’s door before promptly letting myself in. Bailey is pacing her office and upon seeing me she turns to face me, I can tell by the look on her face that this was a bad one.

“I thought I told you to do something. This can’t go on, Hunt.” Bailey starts out, I don’t know exactly what Amelia did or said to get the chief this fired up, but whatever it was, it was BAD. Bailey is trying to be calm, she knows it isn’t really my fault, but in a small way I guess it is.

I try to cut in, “Well… that isn’t exactly –” but I am cut short.

“No, I told you to figure something out over a month ago. And you haven’t and now, Shepherd is… well to put it bluntly she is like a wreaking ball right now.” She huffs out a breath before continuing, “She is getting worse, Hunt, a fact I am sure you are aware of. And this isn’t just pregnancy hormones and mood swings. I’ve never seen her like this, except maybe right before she had her tumor removed… She is mad at the world and is taking it out on anyone and everyone.”

I silently nod my head in understandance. I know the main reason Bailey called me in here was so she could vent, and probably hoping to find out that I was at least trying to do something. She could have called Amelia into her office, but since two weeks ago when she did that, and Amelia bit her head off, Amelia’s mood towards the chief or really anyone who tried to be rational with her, had only gotten worse. So, lately instead of Amelia, herself, being reprimanded for her behavior, I was.

“Hunt, if this continues I will have no choice but to put her on suspension until after the baby is born. The only reason I haven’t done so yet, is because I am giving you one last chance, to figure something out. Because I am aware that putting her off work, will be hell for you at home, and possible the kids. So, this is my final warning, figure something out because I am done trying to deal with that rogue wife of yours.” She collapses back in her chair once she finishes, probably relieved to gotten all of that off her chest.

I don’t bother asking what Amelia, did because truthfully it doesn’t matter. What Bailey just informed me of, hits me hard, she is right, if I don’t figure out something and figure it out fast, my life for the foreseeable future is going to be a living hell. “Well I am having a brain storming meeting tonight, with the other attendings, residence, whoever wants to help really. I’m not giving up. We are going to find a solution.” I tell her as I leave her office.

As I walk back towards the pit, my brain is going a hundred miles an hour, I need to figure something out, it is now or never. I’m also considering what Miranda said about Amelia behaving similar to when she had her tumor. She had lashed out at everyone, and was completely unpredictable, it had almost ended us. She had lashed out at me when I was trying to help before, but to be far I basically said something was wrong with her, and most people don’t respond well to that.

What I learned from that experience was that even if I was right, and she was acting out of character, you needed to have a solid game plan in order to help her or even to get her to listen to you. If I was going to propose a solution to our baby-Harper-Avery-problem, it was going to have to be the best possible plan ever.

The pit was fairly calm when I got down there, I decided to use the rare calm time to catch up on some paperwork. My work was interruputed a little while later by Kepner, she had an alarmed look on her face, which, concerned me. “Wh—” I begin to ask, however, Kepner jumps in before I can even ask ‘what is wrong’.

“Your wife is looking for you. And you may want to hide, because she seriously looks like she is going to kill you.” Kepner warns the alarmed look never leaving her face. The whole hospital had recently begun referring to Amelia as ‘MY WIFE’ or ‘YOUR WIFE’ which probably only added fuel to the fire that was Amelia. As she has always hated being referred to in that manner, even before I met her, I think it steamed from her childhood and always being compared to her sisters and brother.

It is not a normal thing for people to refer to her as, ‘My wife’ normally she was highly respected. The norm had disappeared with this pregnancy however, her complete mood switch had caused everyone either scared of her, or they wanted nothing to do with her, hence the term ‘your wife’ being used regularly.

I don’t even get a chance to ask April, why Amelia is looking for me, before I lay eyes on my wife. One look at her confirms April’s information, Amelia undeniably looks like she is ready to kill someone, and when her eyes land on me, I instantly know I am that person. April quickly wishes me good luck, before slinking off, far away from my tiny, anger filled, pregnant wife.

As she approaches me I decide to deal with Amelia by being, charming and innocent, partly because right now, I am not entirely sure what has her so angry at me. “Hi, honey. You look beautiful.” I say in my best charming matter, hoping my face doesn’t portray any fear. Amelia might be tiny, but she is scary when she is angry, especially when it is this uncontrollable, highly focused kind of angry.

Completely ignoring my greeting, she utters, “You are planning a meeting to ‘deal with me’” she adds hand quotations for emphasises. I gulp in response, unsure of how to respond, on one hand I don’t want to lie to her, on the other hand, she clearly is not happy about me organizing a meeting to gain possible insight on what I could do to help.

I run a hand through my hair before opening my mouth attempting to explain, “Yes and no. Yes, I am planning a meeting, but no it is not to ‘deal with you’. I start off, testing the waters to see if she is going to allow me to explain.

“Really?” She says sounding very unconvinced by my words, “If that is true, what is this meeting about? And why wasn’t I invited?” She challengingly questions me, still not believing what I am saying.

I sigh, realizing I have no choice but to tell her the truth, right now. But the thing is, I know she isn’t going to respond well to my attempt to be able to help her. I also know though, if I don’t tell her she will just get even madder at me.

But thankfully before I can divulge my plan to her, her pager goes off, 911. I smile internally, thanking the universe, that just saved my ass. She looks at me, as if to say, ‘we aren’t done this conversation, but I really have to go.’ I lean down a plant a short kiss on her lips and say, “We will continue this later.” I can’t help but being reminded of all those years ago; when we were in an on-call room and so close to having our first time, only to be interrupted by my pager and for me to say those exact words to her.

“We better!” She says to me as she walks away, seeming in a slightly better mood then moments before, maybe me promising to talk about this conversation, that was clearly enraging her, was a good move.

#omelia fanfic #omelia #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #april kepner #omelia fanfiction #miranda bailey #part 5

[hoodiesandcomputers]

Shared My Body and My Mind With You (That’s All Over Now): Chapter 8/8

Six months ago Felicity did the unthinkable and paid to have sex with the one and only Oliver. Despite being worlds apart they’ve become close friends, but what happens as feelings change, a rival comes into the picture, and a friendship suddenly starts to break? A continuation of a prostitute/client AU, which comes from my one-shot “Taste of Your Poison Paradise.”

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay -- this chapter ended up being a monster. So if you’re on mobile and don’t want to read this, I would absolutely recommend coming back to your dash or tag in an hour or so. You’ll be scrolling a lot, lol.

Many thanks to @curvy-tam and @the-mimi-hiddleston for supporting me when I needed it the most. They were so understanding and gave me all the time I needed to get back on track. And of course, I have to thank @awriterincowboyboots for making this chapter a thousand times better. <3

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // FF // Ao3

Nine months later

Despite moving her desk away from the windows, Felicity finds herself suspiciously staring at the windows and wondering when they’ll break off. Back at Kord her office was on the 51st floor, but now she’s all the way at the 60th and no amount of anxiety pills can make her overcome her fear of heights. She doesn’t doubt she could switch offices with someone else, but all the offices have windows on this floor, so it wouldn’t really make a difference.

Sighing, Felicity decides the best way to stop looking over to the side is to put a large plant that’ll obstruct her view of the ground below. Still, she shouldn’t complain too much when she’s got a nice view of Star City and the plaque outside her door which reads “Felicity Smoak, CTO.”

Now that is what success looks like.

It’s been nine months since Felicity left Chicago, and she’s starting to become accustomed to her new home. Star City is different from Chicago – it’s smaller and cleaner, and it feels more relaxed.

And not just the city. She was always stressed at Kord, wondering if she had done the wrong thing or overstepped her boundaries and she’d never had any time to breathe. Even though she’s CTO, Felicity actually has two full days off for the weekend instead of spending her Saturdays in the office. The workload is different and she oversees everything technology related in Palmer Tech, but it’s good. She’s busy and happy – her bank account is definitely happy, too.

Although she enjoys her time in Star City, making friends while being CTO is harder than she anticipated. Felicity essentially has to start from scratch, which is easier said than done. Even though she’s lived here for nine months, Felicity hasn’t ventured much inside Star City, let alone walked around her entire neighborhood. There are times when she feels lonely, and it’s during those moments a small part of her wonders whether it was worth coming to Palmer Tech.

Despite having gone on a couple quasi-dates with Ray back in Chicago, Felicity eventually chose not to be in a relationship with Ray. It would look completely unprofessional if she had decided to be with Ray, and thankfully he understood how important her job was. Regardless, it didn’t hurt to occasionally flirt here and there, and he was a good business partner. For once, she feels appreciated and revered.

In the end, Felicity knows she would never have had this opportunity if she hadn’t left Kord. As CTO, she’s begun to work with engineers to create ways to help those with spinal injuries and several other projects that’ll change the world. Felicity’s actually eager to come to work, and coupled with Ray’s enthusiasm, the company is always buzzing with excitement.

She’s in a good place.

There’s a loud knock on her door, and before Felicity can tell the person to come in, Curtis Holt barges into the room looking nothing short of frazzled. Alarmed, Felicity stands up while her secretary comes running in, confused by Curtis’ antics.

Nodding at her secretary – Kendra – that everything’s all right, she focuses her attention on Curtis and asks, “What do you think you’re doing here?”

Ignoring her, Curtis – one of Palmer Tech’s most revered engineers – continues to pace back and forth her office. His hair is wild and it looks like he hasn’t slept, which is definitely a bad sign. “Are you OK?”

“No, no way, not. At. All.” Stopping right in front of her, he looks at her with I-haven’t-slept-in-five-days eyes and whispers, “It’s done.”

Felicity’s heart begins to pound as she can only imagine what went wrong. “What’s done?” she asks carefully. A thousand scenarios run through her head, all of which end badly. So many things could be “done” buy Curtis’ definition that she can’t think.

“The chip. It’s totally done for like my late grandmother – bless her but not really because she was a little mean – and I don’t even know what we’re going to do because even I’m having a hard time trying to find a solution for this, and basically I need you A. S. A. P.”

Frack.

The spinal chip meant to save the world has had a lot of hiccups from the very beginning, ranging from lab disasters to not being able to get the funding they needed from investors. But seeing Curtis so uninhibited means something really went wrong, and there’s zero time to waste.

Grabbing her phone – and promptly dropping it before she picks it up again – Felicity kicks off her heels, getting ready for battle. “We’re going. Now.”

“Aye, Captain!” Curtis bolts out of there with Felicity in tow, as she tries not to slip on the marble floors due to her tights. She and Curtis run past Kendra and she looks at them with bewilderment, shocked to see her boss running in the halls of Palmer Tech.

“Miss Smoak! You have a meet–”

“Not now Kendra!” Felicity yells as she dodges her coworkers. She can only imagine how she looks with a tight fitted skirt while running down the hall at full speed. Curtis, being unnaturally tall, is almost at the elevators and she hates him for having a biological advantage over her. “Cancel everything today! And tomorrow!”

Thankfully Curtis is already inside the elevator holding the door for her and she runs inside, desperate to go down to the R&D floor. Realizing she forgot to say something else to Kendra, she sticks her head out the elevator and hollers, “And for the foreseeable future!”

She only manages to just bring her head back inside before the elevator doors close on her face, and it isn’t until Felicity hears how loud they’re breathing that she realizes the absurdity of the situation. Laughing, Felicity bends a little and places her hands on her knees, trying to regain her breath.

Curtis’ looks up at the ceiling to control his heavy breathing and says, “It’s the first time I’ve ran in six months.”

She laughs again and Curtis joins her, as she has no doubt they’re both wondering how they still have a job.

There’s never a dull moment at Palmer Tech and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

~/~

“If it makes you feel better, Hartley got a little too cocky with Ted Kord at the gala last week and got his butt kicked. For once he’s not walking around with a stick up his ass,” Caitlin muses.

Laughing at Hartley’s demise, Felicity continues to walk towards her house (a real, actual house that’s almost one hundred years old and large enough to fit a family of five), dodging runners and people casually walking about. The weather has gotten a little chilly and for the past week it was raining, but today the sun is out and warming everyone’s hearts.

Gripping the phone tighter, Felicity slows her stride and stands to the side, leaning against a brick wall as she continues her conversation with Caitlin. “I don’t think you have any idea how happy I am! You know what they say: karma’s a bitch.”

Chuckling alongside her Caitlin adds, “And the best part? He hasn’t come into my office since last week!”

“Finding out Hartley got his ass handed to him is probably the best thing I’ve heard in forever.”

“I knew this would be a better present than me coming to visit you.”

Stepping away from the wall, Felicity starts to walk when she spots a sign with a menu listed on it. Glancing to the side, she sees a small deli shop and wonders if she should waste time and buy something to eat. Looking back at the menu, Felicity scans it until she spots a four-cheese soufflé as their special.

Oh, I should send a picture to Oliver –

There’s a slight twinge of nostalgia and sadness in her chest, reminding her she can no longer do it anymore. Felicity can’t call him up and talk to him about the latest movie she saw, or joke about random things she’s seen on the Internet. She can’t sprawl all over his couch and complain about work and laugh at his escort stories. There’s no one to hang out with on Wednesdays and Sundays anymore.

There’s no Oliver in her life.

Almost every day Felicity catches herself thinking about him, usually when she sees something which reminds her of Oliver. She wonders if he’s OK and if he’s still working at Emerald, but moments later Felicity remembers she’s in no position to think about him anymore. She has to deal with the consequences of her decision.

No amount of success and money can make up for the fact that Felicity chose to run away from her problems instead of fixing them. But Felicity wasn’t prepared to find out Oliver Jones was, in fact, Oliver Queen. And in her panicked and angry state, she felt Oliver was using her to sustain a picture-perfect friendship, which was anything but perfect, and she pushed him away without talking to him like a mature adult.

It felt like a literal kick to the gut when she found out the truth, but there was also a sense of relief. She finally knew why he was so secretive, why he hated Ray, and (in Felicity’s eyes) seemed to be jealous of her accomplishments while he was stuck as an escort. Felicity’s no stranger to secrets, but when Oliver’s began to impact their friendship, she knew something was up. And sometimes Felicity hated being right.

After Oliver revealed everything to her, she quickly began to put the pieces together but she couldn’t help but wonder: had he ever planned on telling her? Evidence proved otherwise. Everything about Oliver’s behavior made sense, yet deep down Felicity knows she never really knew him. And it hurt her. She spent more time with him than anyone else, opened up to him for the first time since Cooper, and all she got was a box of lies.

So, in her anger Felicity left without patching things up between them, hoping a new environment would permanently erase any memory she had of Oliver.

Clearly her plan failed.

Yet, despite feeling lonely and wondering if she made the worst mistake ever, Felicity knows her feelings were justified. Had they not talked (or yelled) about their differences, they probably would’ve continued to be at odds with one another. In the end, their friendship would have dissolved like any other, to where their weekly hangouts would’ve turned into monthly, and eventually nothing at all. Their argument was a necessary evil, Felicity concludes, but one that still haunts her to this day.

“Hello, Felicity? Are you there?”

She hadn’t realized she spaced out, and honestly forgotten she was on the phone with Caitlin. Her heart still beating at an abnormal pace, Felicity reluctantly tears her eyes away from the menu as a pang of disappointment hits her.

“Yeah, sorry. I . . . never mind.”

Oblivious to Felicity’s inner turmoil Caitlin continues to chat, but Felicity can’t bring herself to pretend everything is OK. Regardless, she pushes through and swallows her feelings, marching forward into the unknown just as she’s always done. Even if it hurts to do so.

~/~

It’s Thursday now, and for the first time this week Felicity’s spent her entire day at her office. After the fiasco regarding the spinal chip, Felicity’s stayed at the R&D department to make sure everything was running smoothly. They found a whole slew of other problems, so Felicity’s been running on coffee and adrenaline for the past few days.

Needing another cup of Joe, Felicity heads to the kitchen and is surprised to find a couple of the secretaries there. Muttering a “Hello” Felicity goes straight to the coffee machine, only to find it completely empty.

I hate my life.

“Sorry Miss Smoak, I usually refill it but I thought everyone left,” she hears Victoria, Ray’s executive assistant, say.

Turning around, Felicity smiles tiredly at Victoria and another secretary, Carly, to let them know everything is fine. “I guess it’s a sign I should stop drinking coffee and go home, but I’m clearly an addict and don’t know how to stop.”

The girls laugh politely at Felicity’s lame small talk and return back to gossiping before her presence interrupted them. She busies herself by setting up the coffee machine when she suddenly hears an Oliver mentioned in the conversation. Her heart pounding, Felicity wonders if it’s Oliver Queen or someone else – yet deep down, she has a feeling it might be her Oliver.

Straining her ears to hear more, Felicity angles herself so that she’s a little closer and can listen to what they’re saying.

“I can’t believe you saw him! What did he look like? I used to have a major crush on him,” Carly says.

Victoria laughs and Felicity can imagine her shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s so hot now. He’s got a scruff, he’s super built, and ugh I’m drooling at the thought of him.”

So it is Oliver’s they’re talking about, and Felicity’s powerless to stop her legs from shaking. What’s he doing back in Star City and for how long has he been here? When Felicity last saw him, she was convinced he planned on being stuck as an escort for the foreseeable future. This information is sending her in a tailspin.

Confused by the turn of events, she tries to calm herself and listen once more to what Victoria has to say.

“Anyway, he was hanging out with Tommy Merlyn the whole night. I think he’s moved back permanently. I wonder what he was doing for all those years,” Victoria muses.

Felicity’s met Tommy at a Merlyn Global event, as it was obvious Malcolm Merlyn was trying to set the two of them up. Obviously nothing happened, but she can see why Oliver would be his friend.  During her brief research session, she saw several tabloid articles detailing Oliver and Tommy’s panache for debauchery.

Deciding she’s had enough, Felicity doesn’t wait for the coffee to be done and heads straight to her office. Her mind reeling, Felicity shuts the door to her office and lies down on her couch, trying to even her breathing but to no avail. She doesn’t know what to think, other than Oliver Queen is back in town to disrupt her life.

Or maybe make it better.

In a twist of fate, this feels like a second chance to Felicity. She’s been feeling so guilty as of late, and misses Oliver more than she misses her father, more than she ever missed Cooper. There’s an emptiness in her heart, and she knows it’s due to not ending things with Oliver on a good note. What she needs is closure – their fight was a mess and Felicity didn’t get a chance to articulate what was on her mind. If they meet, maybe they can hash things out like adults . . . and possibly reconnect on better terms.

She wants to reconcile with Oliver more than anything. These past few months have given her plenty of time to dissect every second of their argument, and she’s come to conclusion they should at least talk. Yes, Felicity was deeply hurt, but she can see why he kept the information away from her. He was scared of opening up and Felicity shouldn’t blame him. She can only imagine how difficult his life has been, from starting off as a wealthy playboy to suddenly becoming a nobody having to whore himself in order to pay the bills. His pride wounded, Felicity understands why Oliver disliked Ray, even if the only thing Ray did was take over QC. Oliver’s future was stripped away from him without a moment’s notice and he’s barely hanging on.

Perhaps now that he’s back and they’ve aired their dirty laundry, they can move on from the past.

But she’s getting ahead of herself – Felicity needs to reach out to Oliver first. She owes him that. Sitting up on the couch, Felicity reaches for her cellphone and immediately searches for his number, even though her hand is shaking from doing so.

She can’t believe it – it’s happening. She’s actually doing this. For nine months Felicity’s taken out her phone various times so she could apologize, yet every time she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Coupled with her guilt and cowardice, Felicity held off on being the bigger person, but it’s time for a change.

She doesn’t know what she’ll say to him, and for a moment she stops herself from dialing his number. Sighing heavily, Felicity knows if she waits a second longer she won’t call him. For someone who prides herself in being strong, Felicity is undoubtedly weak when it comes to emotions.

Swallowing thickly and gathering whatever courage she has, Felicity dials his number and anxiously waits to see what happens next. Her vision blurs from being overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotions, and she prays Oliver won’t be able to hear her heart obnoxiously beat through the phone.

It rings once until she hears a beep, followed by “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.” Shutting the phone, Felicity sighs in relief and leans back on the couch to calm her nerves. She doesn’t want to be relieved Oliver’s ditched his old phone number, and therefore can’t talk to him, but she feels she dodged a bullet. Calling him now isn’t the right time.

One way or another, Felicity knows has to make amends with Oliver. She shouldn’t take this as an opportunity to not seek out Oliver at all, but perhaps she should focus on what she’ll say once she meets him . . . Whenever that happens.

~/~

It’s been a couple of weeks since Felicity found out about Oliver being in town. Once she realized he was back, Felicity promptly spent the next few days combing through the Internet, and found various articles on gossip sites discussing his new look and speculating on what he did for the eight years he was gone. Felicity wonders if people will find out about Oliver’s time as an escort and the thought worries her. It’s possible Oliver may no longer be ashamed for working as an escort, which is why he’s back in Star City. Yet, despite several valiant efforts from rabid fangirls and smarmy reporters, no one has a clue what he did during those eight missing years.

Despite her constant researching, she still hasn’t made an effort to contact Oliver. There’s a part of her afraid he’ll turn her away after what she did to him. She can’t call herself a strong, mature adult when she’s scared shitless to approach Oliver. If she doesn’t speak to him it would make her a hypocrite, and that’s the last thing Felicity wants to be known as.

She just – all she needs is practice. If Felicity doesn’t practice in front of a mirror and spend a few hours writing down what she wants to say to Oliver, she’ll definitely be a blubbering mess and she can’t afford for it to happen. Felicity likes to prepare for every situation and this is no different.

Which is why she’s completely shocked and petrified when she sees Oliver outside a building in the Glades on a cold Saturday afternoon, painting on the side of the wall with a serene smile on his face.

Her heart does a strange pitter-patter and her breathing gets shallower by the second, while her mind races with confusion. She’s bundled up in winter gear since it’s November, but she’s suddenly sweating buckets and doesn’t know if she should strip and wave hello, or get the hell out of here.

See, this is why Felicity needs practice and a blueprint for her life, because when things like Oliver randomly appearing in her line of sight happens, she loses her brain and the ability to function.

He’s looking at her like she’s the sun, never mind the fact they had a huge fight and haven’t spoken in nine months. And for a moment, Felicity feels so good just seeing him that she thinks no time has passed.

For a split second, Felicity imagines herself running into his arms and pretending everything’s all right between them. But reality is much different and instead she takes slow, robotic steps toward him, unsure of how close she can get to him.

Oliver drops his paintbrush and cautiously steps forward as if he’s trying not to scare her. And maybe that’s a good thing – as familiar as Oliver feels, there’s a distance between them caused by their unfortunate rift. It aches to see how far apart they are now, how the air is laced with trepidation, but maybe this can change.

At least she hopes so.

They finally stop moving towards one another, careful not to overstep their boundaries. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Felicity takes a good look at Oliver and notices a certain bit of lightness to him. His shoulders aren’t tight and ridged, his lips aren’t pursed in thoughtfulness and his eyes . . . they’re wide open, like it’s the first time he’s seeing the world.

Without a doubt, Felicity knows these past nine months have changed Oliver, and she’s unbelievably proud of him.

She can’t stop herself letting out a relieved smile, because all she’s ever wanted for him is to be the man he can be. Felicity can only imagine the emotional toll it took on Oliver to be an escort for so many years, and she’s glad to see him happy for once.

“Hey, Oliver.” Saying his name out loud feels foreign to her mind but familiar to her tongue. Her brain can try to push Oliver’s memory away from her, but every inch of her body and soul will always remember.  

“Felicity.”

He’s bundled up as well, but there’s some paint littered on his jeans and his nose is red from the cold. Shuffling his feet, Oliver shyly glances down before looking at Felicity. “It’s good to see you.”

It’s good to see him, too. “Yeah” is all she can muster, as her mouth – for once – is unable to embarrass her any further.

There’s an awkward pause, and in order to distract herself she looks at everywhere but him. For the first time Felicity notices where she’s at – the building Oliver was painting on appears to be a small business, maybe a coffee shop. It doesn’t look like it has opened yet, she spots equipment, tables and chairs scattered about inside. Her heart leaps as her mind wonders whether Oliver came back to start a business, one that doesn’t require illegal activities.

Over to the side she spots someone watching them, and as she takes a good look she realizes it’s Tommy Merlyn. It feels a little weird to be speaking with Oliver when she’s also met Tommy, and especially since he seems to be spying on them. Felicity sees no one else inside the building or around it, which makes her feel a little better, but she’s still nervous.

Realizing it’s been silent for a good ten seconds, Felicity takes a deep breath and rocks on her heels, unsure of what she wants to say.

“I . . . called but your phone isn’t . . . working anymore. It’s been disconnected. Obviously.” She feels herself blushing, which is stupid and annoying. She needs to be stronger than this.

“Uh yeah, sorry about that.” Oliver exhales loudly and adds, “After I moved back I changed numbers. I was getting . . . calls. Ones I didn’t need anymore.”

Her eyes snap up to his and Felicity immediately understands what he’s getting at. It seems Oliver’s officially stopped being an escort, and really did intend to come here as a fresh restart.  And she’s happy for him.

She sees him in a new light now. Felicity was convinced Oliver didn’t care about moving forward, or was so focused on being stuck in his misery, but she was so damn wrong about him. Life pushes unwanted circumstances onto so many people, and some get dealt with a horrible hand – Oliver was one of them. To see him in the process of (possibly) opening a business means he’s taken control of his destiny, and for that, Felicity is unbelievably proud of him.

“Oh, gotcha.” Nervous once again, Felicity counts backwards from three to control her word vomit, since she’s positive she’ll say something totally embarrassing, but she has a feeling she’s only delaying the inevitable.

Oliver shuffles his feet once more and shoves his hands inside his coat pockets. Felicity steals a quick glance at him, and she’s once more annoyed-yet-slightly-happy Oliver is as handsome as he is. But it’s how his eyes are devoid of any haunted memories, which gives her a pause for thought.

Oliver’s become the man he was meant to be, and she’s so glad to have gotten a chance to witness it.  

“Hey, uh, I’m opening a café – this café, actually – next Saturday.” He’s nervous too – maybe their breakup affected him more than she thought, because Oliver is anything but nervous. “I’d . . . really like it if you could come by.”

Her heart skips a beat, and an overwhelming feeling of hope etches into her skin. Although Felicity doesn’t want to expect something from Oliver’s invitation, as it could very well be him acting nice for the sake of being nice, she wants nothing more than to support Oliver in this endeavor. And if he’s inviting her because he wants to become friends with her, then she should definitely take this opportunity to mend old wounds.

“I might have some company event to go to . . . but I’ll try to make it.”

Lies.  

Why is she being so difficult? She spots the exact moment Oliver’s face falls, and she wants to kick herself in the face, even if it is impossible to do so. This is what she’s wanted for so long – a chance to make up and get closure, and now she’s throwing it away. Felicity doesn’t understand why she’s pretending to not care as much as she does, but it pisses her off to the point she can’t think clearly.

She’s about to rescind her comment until Oliver nods. “That’s fine.”

Shrugging then taking a deep breath, he smiles gently and Felicity’s in awe of how unbothered he is. “It was . . . really nice seeing you, Felicity. I hope you can come.”

For some reason her throat closes up, and she can only nod before tears threaten to spill over. Oliver smiles softly once more before turning around to finish painting the wall. She watches him walk toward his friend, his steps carefree and light, and for a moment Felicity wishes she met Oliver when he was like this. But she knows if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t appreciate the struggle he’s gone through, and for that she is forever grateful.

Turning around, Felicity composes herself as she takes long, deep breaths. Today was unexpected and she needs time to think about what happened with a big bottle of wine.

As she starts to walk away from Oliver, she hears Tommy loudly ask, “Dude, how do you know Felicity Smoak?”

Well, wouldn’t he like to know.

~/~

The obnoxious wall clock Felicity bought on a whim ticks incessantly, its sound getting louder and louder as the hour hand inches toward six o’clock. She’s spent the last four hours following Twitter mentions of Oliver’s café opening, searching for something but she doesn’t know what. According to visitors, Tommy Merlyn and Thea Queen – Oliver’s sister – are working there and hundreds of people have come. A line started to form an hour before the café – Nocking Point – opened, and since then it’s been nonstop traffic.

She debated going there, but chickened out no less than seven times. Felicity doesn’t know why she’s having a hard time going, especially since this is what she’s wanted for a long time, and Oliver personally invited her. There’s a part of her deathly afraid of the possibility of not getting together as friends or . . . something more.

After finding out Oliver’s no longer a prostitute, her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about what ifs. What if she and Oliver get together? What if they turn into something more than friends? What if their relationship is really good? What if it’s not? It’s the first time she’s allowed herself to think of these questions and they’re making her dizzy.

During the course of their friendship, Felicity found someone who made her happy and excited and less lonely. It was different – she had been intimate with him before she knew him. Oliver saw a part of her very few people did and that will forever tie her to him. And amidst all the weirdness, they became fast friends over the mundane aspects of their lives.

But Felicity held herself back. She didn’t let herself get too attached to Oliver in fear of totally falling in love with him, or forcing him away with her neediness. There were times when she teetered back and forth, unsure if what she felt for him was her projecting a romantic relationship on a friendship because she was lonely, or whether underneath their easy smiles there was something hidden there. In the end she pushed it away, believing their delicate, easy friendship and her career were more important. Felicity didn’t want to disrupt that balance.

Now . . . she doesn’t know what to think. Oliver’s working legally – he has his own business. Felicity didn’t think something she mentioned in passing would actually happen but it did, and he seems happier, less anxious. And, coupled with knowing who Oliver really is, maybe it’s not as unfathomable to be with him.

Letting out a strangled breath, Felicity admits she wants to be with him. She wants to be his girlfriend. She . . . loves him.

The last thought gives her pause, but it’s so honest it aches to admit it. Oliver withholding his secrets from her hurt her more than usual because she cared – cares – about him. A lot. If Oliver were any other friend she wouldn’t have exploded on him as she did, but Oliver was more than a regular friend and it destroyed her when he lied. She thought there was a closeness and understanding, and when Oliver said otherwise, it crushed her soul and any self-esteem she had.

Their breakup has affected Felicity more than she thought, and after seeing Oliver so carefree she wants nothing more than to be a part of it. Nothing’s holding them back – they’re free from societal expectations, shame, embarrassment and stubbornness. For so long Felicity’s been denying the truth, but she has to face it head on.

And tonight is the perfect night.

Without wasting another second, Felicity gathers her coat and purse, her confidence increasing as she realizes she’s this close to meeting Oliver again. Taking her car, Felicity speeds her way to his café and hopes he hasn’t left yet. The shop closed at 5:30 – it’s possible Oliver’s already gone home. This causes Felicity to drive faster, not caring about breaking any traffic rules.

As she speeds along Star City’s streets, she can’t help but snort at how very rom-com this is. Felicity half expects Nora Ephron to jump out of nowhere and direct her reunion with Oliver, and there’s a part of her slightly giddy at the thought of seeing him and telling Oliver her feelings about him. She’s no doubt scared – her mind is an Internet browser with a thousand tabs open, but Felicity plans on going there and being honest.

If things don’t work out between them, or they’re able to forgive one another but it’s still too hard to move on, then she’ll be OK with it. At the end of the day, she hopes they’ll get the closure they need and can look back at their friendship with fondness instead of bittersweet nostalgia.

Lost in her thoughts, Felicity almost misses the café before she screeches to a halt. Luckily she’s able to find parking nearby, but once she kills the engine Felicity’s courage vanishes into thin air. Her mouth pools with saliva, her palms moisten in fear, and she feels her confidence waning.

Glancing at her phone, she sees that it’s already 6:30 and another dose of panic hits her. Oliver could very well be gone, and she’ll have missed her chance to tell Oliver how she feels about him. Inhaling deeply, Felicity checks whatever makeup she has remaining on her face, but she stops for a moment to look at herself. For the first time in awhile, Felicity seems . . . excited. It’s like she’s been on a month long vacation and the summertime glow hasn’t faded away yet.

Felicity does her best to shake her nervousness away and exits the car, because it’s now or never. As she inches closer to the café, she sees the lights are off and her heart drops in disappointment. If Oliver’s not here this will all have been in a waste, and she has to wonder when she’ll get another perfect moment like this. Hugging her coat closer, Felicity stops in front of the café and tugs on the door, finding it locked. Undeterred, she goes over to the window and presses her face against it, hoping someone – preferably Oliver – is inside.

And he is.

He’s sitting on one of the chairs, looking over some papers as his head is bowed in concentration. His collared shirt doesn’t even try to cover his impressive physique, and Felicity finds it endearing there’s a tiny apron wrapped around him.

She spends another few seconds watching him from afar, but her private peep show is over the moment Oliver’s head snaps up and his eyes land on her. Feeling like she got busted for doing something wrong, Felicity blushes furiously and awkwardly waves at him – she can only imagine how weird this looks. He doesn’t move for a moment, no doubt shocked she’s here, but Oliver quickly springs to actions and practically runs to the door.

Felicity can hear him fussing with the lock, and when he manages to unlock it the door swings wide open as Oliver holds it. He’s smiling and Felicity’s heart leaps – he looks so happy and good here. An overwhelming desire to hug him grabs a hold of her, but Felicity manages to restrain herself. Now’s not the time to freak him out.

“Felicity.”

He says it with such wonder, curiosity and something else that she can’t think. There are times when Felicity’s convinced Oliver says her name like it’s a sentence; as if there are too many words to accurately describe what he’s feeling, so he pours it all into saying her name with whatever emotions grab him.

She missed him. So much.

“Mind if I come in?”

“Depends. Do you plan on buying anything?”

Felicity’s suddenly reminded of their Sundays at Jitters, and she can’t stop herself from grinning like an idiot. “If it’s any good.”

Oliver laughs and it’s absolute heaven to her ears. “I guess you’ll see for yourself.”

Beckoning her to come inside, Felicity steps forward and enters the café, keenly aware of how close Oliver is. He shuts the door behind her and clasps his hands as she surveys the space. “Anything in particular you’d like?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she digests everything in. The café is stunning. It’s modern yet classic, with hints of green tastefully peeking out. There’s a corner dedicated to large, comfy sofas, the chairs and tables are sleek, and coupled with a brick wall Felicity has no doubt this will become the latest hipster spot in Star City. It’s clearly a labor of love and Felicity wants this to succeed as much as Oliver does. He deserves it.

“Oliver, this is amazing,” her voice laced with equal amounts of awe and excitement. She can’t wait to see what’s in store for him.

Turning around, she fondly looks at him but he’s bashfully staring at the ground. A small grin creeps up to her lips and Felicity says, “I’m really proud of you.”

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thanks.”

The air is suddenly rife with tension and unspoken admissions, and Felicity finds herself awkwardly standing there. “Can I sit?”

Oliver nods and waves his hand around the café’s general direction. “Take your pick.”

Sitting down at the table nearest to her, Felicity takes off her coat and continues to admire the café. Her eyes touch upon the paintings and vintage posters on the walls – she spots a poster for The Adventures of Robin Hood, and briefly wonders if Oliver put it up there on purpose, especially since it’s her go-to background movie to play during the weekends.

Maybe she shouldn’t read too much into things.

“You still didn’t tell me what you want.”

Snapping out of her daze, Felicity shrugs because she knows anything Oliver gives her will be delicious. “Surprise me.”

Nodding once more, Oliver smirks knowingly and heads to the kitchen, while Felicity tries to rehearse what she’ll say to him. Unfortunately the gorgeous location keeps distracting her.

She had expected the café to look and feel great, but she didn’t expect how amazing it turned out to be. It feels comfortable and familiar; all this place needs is a bed and Felicity could easily call it home. There’s a lingering smell of cookies and other food, and for a moment Felicity feels she could sleep here without another thought.

A couple of minutes later Oliver reemerges from the kitchen with two plates. As he gets closer, she grins at how serendipitous this is – of all the things Oliver chose to bring out, it’s a soufflé, and a chocolate one at that. He smiles at her and places the soufflés on the table, settling down next to her. Its aromatic smell makes her dizzy with exhilaration, and she sees that it’s been drizzled with chocolate on top of it.

“I feel like I’m on an episode of Top Chef.”

Oliver laughs tiredly and Felicity immediately feels guilty for coming so late. After all the craziness of today, she doesn’t doubt he’s exhausted and wants to sleep.

She’s tired, too. Tired from being sad, of wishing she could change the past, of her mistakes, and of being scared. Felicity tries so hard to be something else other than honest. She’ll run away as far as she can, push her feelings to the back of her mind believing they’ll only ruin her future, and in the end it leaves her broken.

Despite having a decadent soufflé in front of her, she doesn’t feel like eating it anymore as her thoughts continue to cloud her mind. But once she takes one savory bite, Felicity can’t help but moan as its flavors make her mouth dance in ecstasy. It’s soft, warm and gooey on the inside, and it’s quite possibly the best soufflé she’s ever tried.

“Do you like it?” Oliver grins, no doubt amused by her reaction.

“Are you kidding?” she says with a mouthful of food in her mouth. Swallowing, she immediately digs her spoon inside for another bite. “I could eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

Smiling once more, Oliver stays silent as Felicity continues to eat. He doesn’t touch his own soufflé, and feeling a bit self-conscious, Felicity slows down and tries not to shove the entire thing in two seconds. It’s painfully quiet now, and in order to not embarrass herself she takes one more bite.

“I’m glad you came.” His confession startles Felicity – glancing up at him, she’s surprised to see how sincere he is. “I was . . . worried you wouldn’t.”

Crap – she feels bad for getting his hopes up and crushing it. But now that Oliver’s being honest, Felicity knows she can’t continue to skirt around the truth anymore. If he can open up to her then so can she. Still, it causes a rush of adrenaline and nervousness, and Felicity does her best not to freak herself – and Oliver – out.

“Yeah I . . . I – I didn’t have anywhere to go.” She spots Oliver’s eyebrows rise slightly, and for a moment she feels she’s about to get reprimanded by her mother.

“I wore PJs the whole day and stalked you on Twitter.” Realizing how horrible it sounds, Felicity tries to remedy her faux pas even though she knows it’s pointless. “I mean your Twitter mentions. Mentions on Twitter about you.”

Frack. She really can’t go a minute without embarrassing herself, can she? Her skin burns in humiliation, and closing her eyes, Felicity collects herself before saying what she really meant. Oliver’s got a hint of a smile forming on his lips, and his reaction makes her marginally feel better.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity pushes the soufflé aside and puts her thoughts in order. “I’m sorry. I guess I . . . just didn’t want to show you how much I . . . “ Missed you. So much.

It’s at the tip of her tongue, and God, she wants to tell him how much she missed him. But it doesn’t feel like the right moment, and she swallows her confession away, unsure of when she’ll get the chance to say it. There are several other things she needs to tell him first.

Sensing her hesitation, Oliver purses his lips and slightly turns his chair towards Felicity. She can tell he’s trying to find the right words to say, and she patiently waits for him, just as he’s done a million other times. The silence doesn’t feel unbearable but there’s a layer of unsaid words begging to be let out.

“Felicity, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was back in Star City.”

As his jaw tenses he glances at the floor, and Felicity wants nothing more than to make him feel better. She doesn’t know why he feels the need to apologize for not contacting her, since they fought and she made sure he wasn’t allowed to be in her life anymore. Sometimes Felicity wonders what causes Oliver to shoulder everyone’s burden, because he does it often.

She shrugs. “It’s OK.”

Oliver’s not having it. Shaking his head, he shifts in his seat as he gathers his thoughts. “I just – I needed to figure myself out.”

“Oh.”

She wonders what it means – figuring yourself out. Perhaps it means moving to another environment and pushing yourself until you can’t, until you’re so exhausted from running that you finally have to stop. Or maybe it means going back home and finding ways to come to terms with your past, present, and future.

Felicity doesn’t know if she’s figured herself out yet. She’s still stubborn, is prone to hacking when she knows she could go to jail for it, worries she’ll get abandoned by anyone and everyone at a moment’s notice, and can’t for the life of her want to workout. But she’s also figured out how to balance her work life, and how to stay calm in stressful situations. She knows her limits. She dresses better, she finds happiness in smaller things, and knows what it’s like to lose missed opportunities.

She’s lost, loved, and won. And that’s all part of figuring yourself out. Seeing Oliver take a chance and reevaluate who he is as a person encourages her to do the same. And maybe, just maybe, they can work this out.

For the first time since she woke up this morning, Felicity finally takes a moment to soak this all in and let fate take its course. She’s just . . . happy she’s here, sitting next to Oliver for the first time in months. It feels like things are starting to happen the way they’re supposed to – naturally and without expectations.

Glancing up at Oliver, she gives a shy smile before looking down at the table and toying with the napkin. She doesn’t know what to say, but she figures she should start small.

“How did you leave Chicago by the way? You know, with Emerald and all . . .”

Clearly, Felicity needs a lesson on how to start a conversation without going straight to the heavy stuff, but she is curious and wants to know.  

Oliver takes a deep breath and stares off as his eyes harden. “Let’s just say Isabel won’t be a madam for the foreseeable future.”

Well, that was unexpected. “You know you can’t not finish the story,” she says with a laugh. “I’m dying to know the rest.”

He raises his eyebrows and fiddles with the spoon on his plate, his mouth pursing as he tries to find a way to tell Felicity the truth. She doesn’t know much about his time at Emerald – he would hardly talk about it unless there was something funny, and she finds herself wanting to know everything he kept hidden. Felicity wants him to know she’s there for him, and listening to every sordid detail is one place to start.

“I’m sure you remember me occasionally complaining about her. “ Felicity nods – there were only a handful of times Oliver slipped how it wasn’t so great to work at Emerald. “She wasn’t a good person. So I made sure she didn’t hurt anyone else.”

Felicity can only imagine what pushed Oliver to do something like that, but she trusts his judgment and knows if it weren’t Oliver, it would’ve been someone else who would send Isabel to jail.

“Good.”

Her steely response causes Oliver to look at her peculiarly, but as someone who’s seen the worst of humanity more times than she can count, Felicity’s glad Isabel won’t be able to prey on escorts anymore. They’re more alike than she realized.

Wanting to change the heavy subject, Felicity clears her throat and smiles awkwardly. “Anyway, how long have you been back?”

He seems thankful for the change of direction and quickly says, “Four months.”

A pang of disappointment hits her – he’s been here for this long and she didn’t know? In the back of her mind Felicity knows he didn’t contact her because he needed time for himself, but she wishes so much hadn’t passed.

“Oh. OK.”

Oliver notices the mood shift and explains, “I – I was going to . . . I got busy with opening this business and personal things.”

“Like I said, it’s fine.” She doesn’t want Oliver to feel bad when it’s not his fault to begin with. “It’s not like we were on speaking terms or anything.”

Giving her an odd look, he begins to rub his fingers and stares at the table. “Still.”

It annoys her Oliver feels it’s his fault for not contacting her – he shouldn’t blame himself for wanting some distance and taking time to focus on his wellbeing. Felicity’s tempted to press him, but things are a bit delicate right now and she wants things to go smoothly.

Clearing her throat once more, Felicity relaxes in her chair and looks around at the café, marveling once more at the décor. She feels the need to change the subject again and asks, “How did you manage to open a business in four months?”

He grins and stops rubbing his fingers. “It helps having friends in high places.”

Snorting, Felicity shakes her head but there’s a smile on her lips. “That doesn’t sound ominous whatsoever.”

A soft chuckle emanates from Oliver’s lips, and she’s suddenly reminded of how beautiful it sounds. She’s missed his smiles, laughs, and his presence by her side.

“How do you like Palmer Tech?”

“It’s great.” Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, she takes a deep breath and tries to find a way to tell Oliver how amazing it is. “I’m having fun, actually. We’re developing a spinal chip that’ll hopefully end any sort of paralysis, so . . . I’m doing big stuff.”

Cringing on the inside, she wonders how she managed to boil down her very important CTO role into “big stuff.” She might as well have finished the sentence with bigly and ended the night there.

“Wow, Felicity. That’s incredible.” Oliver’s eyes shine the same way they used to and for a moment she can’t breathe.

“Yeah, it is.”

Some days it doesn’t hit her she’s made it – she still thinks she’s back at MIT in her horrendous goth clothing, aching to make a difference in the world. There are days – months, even – when Felicity feels she hasn’t done her part yet. While she exceeds in one aspect of her life, she totally fails in the other. Yet through it all she’s trying and it’s all she could ask for.

It’s why she’s here in the middle of Oliver’s café, hoping she can make her past a little more bearable and her future a little more exciting.

“Oliver, I really do need to apologize. For how I ended things.”

Her breath stutters in her chest and her throat dries up in nervousness and anticipation. She’s waited months to tell him what she really feels, and she wants nothing more than to have everything go smoothly.  

“You don’t.” Oliver looks a little scared, as if he doesn’t want to discuss how painful their breakup was.

“But I want to.”

“Felicity –”

Shaking her head, Felicity brings up a hand to signal him to stop. This is her time to tell him how she feels. Instead of yelling at him and asking what his last name is, she has to say what was – is – bothering her and how sorry she is.

Seemingly afraid of what she has to say, Oliver looks a little cautious but patiently waits.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity gathers her courage tries to stop her voice from wavering due to an overwhelming amount of emotions. She can feel her arms shaking from an overabundance of adrenaline, and curls her hands into small fists to control it. The moment she’s been waiting for is here – she can’t fuck this up.

“It – it really hurt me, when you lied. I thought we were so close. You were the first person in . . . a long time I was this close to, and I thought I was wrong.”

The air is rife with tension, and she has to shrug off her jacket so she’s not sweating buckets from nervousness. Oliver’s carefully watching her, but she has to focus on her thoughts and take this one step at a time.  

“I know I wasn’t totally open with you. I – I thought as long as our . . . secrets weren’t brought up then there wasn’t a reason to mention it.”

Her heart loudly pounds deep beneath her chest to the point where it actually hurts her. Although Felicity told Oliver about her mother and growing up poor, she never told him about Cooper or her dad. Worse, she didn’t feel like they were in a stage to discuss their fears and insecurities, and Felicity chose not to take the first step in solidifying their friendship. She wonders what would’ve happened had she opened up to him first – she’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have gotten to this point.

“I just . . . I was OK with us not spilling our deepest secrets, as long as it didn’t impact us. But once yours did impact us, and when I found out everything, I felt . . . betrayed.”

Briefly, Felicity glances up to look at Oliver and she’s not prepared to see his face completely devoid of emotion. It kind of scares her how distant he is, but Felicity soldiers on and hopes her apology doesn’t push Oliver further away.

“But I could only imagine how hard it was for you, you know? Leading a double life and all. And how you probably wanted to keep your secrets to yourself because it hurt to think about them.”

She knows exactly how he felt, since it still hurts to think about her father and Cooper even after all these years. But unlike Oliver, Felicity managed to pull herself up and succeed despite everything, while he was literally and figuratively stuck being a prostitute. Their circumstances were different and she should’ve understood.

“I’m sorry for forcing it out of you. I’m sorry for leaving like I did.”

Black dots dance around her vision and Felicity suddenly remembers she needs to breathe – she immediately gulps as much air as she can, and tries to steady her racing heart. It feels like her chest might explode and her vision blurs from unshed tears. She’s equal parts relieved and anxious, and prays he doesn’t run for the nearest exit. But he hasn’t yet, and she thinks maybe he’s been waiting for a moment to tell her what he feels, too.

His mouth open and closes for several seconds until she can hear him take a deep breath. Shifting in his seat, Oliver leans forward and she’s hit with a whiff of his scent – a mix of cookies, chocolate, and something a bit woodsy. It’s uniquely him and Felicity wants nothing more than to be in his arms.

“Felicity, I’m glad you forced it out of me.” Her eyes snap up to his, surprised by his confession. “I probably wouldn’t have said anything until you did. I took advantage of the situation.”

She appreciates his honesty, and gives him a small smile to let Oliver know she doesn’t begrudge him for it.

“Still. I left like a kid who didn’t have their way.”

He laughs at her word choice then gazes off into the distance, which causes the atmosphere to shift back into something a little more serious. Felicity’s not done apologizing, and she vows to say everything that’s been on her mind for months.

“I hurt you by not introducing you to my friends, to the other side of my life.”

Shame begins to coat her skin, lighting every inch of it on fire, reminding her what she did to keep Oliver away was so damn wrong. Putting Oliver in a tiny box labeled “Only For Felicity’s Consumption” did nothing but push him further away, and she hates how much it hurt him. He had every right to be introduced to her work and other personal life. Felicity separated their friendship from other aspects of her life, because she didn’t want people’s judgments to ruin things between them and her career. It wasn’t fair to him.

“I kept you away because I valued my career over our friendship. And I’m really sorry.”

Tears prick her eyes and she rapidly blinks them away – she doesn’t want the waterworks to spill just yet when she’s not done with this conversation. Swallowing thickly, Felicity has to look away for a moment, because she doesn’t know if she can handle staring at Oliver right now. She wants nothing more than to be in his life, especially now when things are looking up for both of them, but she hopes her confessions won’t push him too far away.

Suddenly, Oliver shifts and scoots his chair closer to Felicity – she thinks he’s about to take her hand in his, but nothing happens. Instead, he stares straight into her soul, his cerulean eyes quickly moving back in forth as they search for something. Felicity thinks he’s looking for acceptance and she wishes he didn’t feel the need to ask in the first place.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Felicity.” His voice wavers and Felicity wonders whether this has been as hard for him as it’s been for her, too.

“I should’ve told you . . . why Ray was bothering me.”

For a brief moment, Oliver’s eyes harden and she suspects it’s due to mentioning Ray. His reaction would’ve annoyed her before, but now that she knows the truth she understands why he has ill feelings toward him. At least Oliver’s come to learn how to separate his personal feelings from Felicity’s professional life, and for that she’s forever grateful.

“I shouldn’t have let my – my issues ruin an awesome opportunity for you. I attacked you when instead I should’ve been honest about why I was acting out.”

She can tell how sincere he is from the way his shoulders have dropped and how he never stops looking at her – even his fingers aren’t rubbing together, a nervous tick she’s seen time and time again. Seeing how different Oliver is now astounds her, and his journey to this point only encourages Felicity to make changes in her life as well.

“And I’m sorry for not telling you how I felt . . .” He hesitates then adds, “About all that. I really am.”

For months Felicity’s been aching to hear Oliver’s apology. She’s imagined a million different scenarios, all of them abruptly ending because she couldn’t ever dream of this moment happening. But instead of feeling a weight get lifted off her shoulders, she simply digests Oliver’s words without another thought. It’ll probably hit her when she’s back in her bed, going over this conversation on repeat, but for now Felicity’s satisfied they’re in a place to be this honest with one another.

It’s all she could ever ask for.

“I should’ve been honest about how you were hurting me, instead of letting my anger . . . boil over.”

“And I should’ve told you the truth.”

They smile shyly at one another, and in that moment Felicity just knows they’ve moved on. Whatever was bothering before will no longer have to power to control them, because the desire to be in each other’s lives is more important than focusing on the past.  

“Now you can. If you want.”

I want to be there for you.

There’s a pregnant pause and Felicity’s afraid she may have pushed it too far. Oliver leans back against the chair and his eyes darken – whether it’s from sadness or anger, she doesn’t know. But Felicity wants him to know he can be honest with her and not worry about judgments, and most of all, not feel like he has to hide things from her.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, like he’s trying to rid his head of certain memories. Looking off into the distance, Oliver starts to rub his fingers and Felicity knows things are going to get serious.

“The night before our movie hangout, I was called to join a house orgy.”

She sees Oliver swallow thickly and she can imagine how difficult this may be for him. Felicity almost wants to take back her offer, but they’re already being so open with each other – it would be a shame to revert back to who they were a mere ten minutes ago.  

“And instead I saw . . . a young escort getting assaulted. She was barely eighteen, Felicity.”

Shaking his head once more, Oliver lets out a breath and looks down at the floor. His shoulders sag and in this moment he looks so defeated. She wants to tell him to stop or even hug him, because this is obviously hurting him. But suddenly, he sits right back up and looks at Felicity, his face betraying no hint of emotion. She doesn’t know what to think of this mood change, but chooses to wait and see what happens.

“When I went to Isabel, she . . . You have to understand, the girl was going to be indebted to Isabel forever. She would’ve never been able to get out from Isabel’s grasp.”

Felicity quickly digests the information in, and she’s hit with such sadness and pity she doesn’t know what to think. It appears Emerald was a mafia, with Isabel in charge of destroying people’s lives and stuffing her bank account. For Isabel to use young girls and keep them as modern day slaves is nothing short of disgusting. Now Felicity understands why Isabel’s in jail.

“So I had to do something to keep her safe.”

He’s seen so much – from having his money, parents and house snatched away from him to becoming an illegal escort under a literal mob boss. After all these months, Felicity understands why Oliver wouldn’t speak about his time at Emerald: it was too painful. And she feels so fucking guilty for asking him to open the can of worms. She should’ve known what his silence meant, why he only shared funny escort stories, why he did whatever he could to get Felicity talking so he could focus on something other than his horrid job.

“I’m sorry that happened to the escort . . . and to you.”

Oliver probably doesn’t want Felicity’s pity but she can’t help feeling that way. She wishes he didn’t have to go through all of it, yet she’s glad he had the courage to take down Isabel in a way he saw fit.

Unaware of Felicity’s inner turmoil he simply shrugs. “And another escort I was mentoring overdosed the following night,” his voice grave as he recounts the incident.

Holy shit. No wonder he looked so haunted on their last movie night, and worse for wear the following Saturday, on the day of their fateful fight. She remembers how off he seemed. She took his sullen silences as him being jealous of her, Ray and a million other stupid things, but he was quietly suffering the whole time. And she freaking spent that time fighting with him.

God, how bitchy could Felicity be? She made it all about her when it was anything but that. Granted, Oliver not telling her the truth made things a bit more complicated – it certainly would’ve stopped Felicity from accusing him of numerous things – but she just wishes she knew before blowing up on him.  

She’s feeling nothing short of guilty. This whole debacle could’ve been avoided had they been honest with each other, but everything seems preventable in hindsight. Maybe Felicity had to lose Oliver in order to really appreciate him.

“I could’ve . . . You know I’m there for you, right?”

Her voice drops an octave and she finds herself whispering – there’s a part of her wanting him to know how serious she is, but most of all, this promise is only meant for him. There’s no one else she’s willing to stand through thick and thin for. Oliver has to know this.  

Oliver’s mouth twitches as he leans forward, clasping his hands in his lap and watching her intently. The way Oliver’s looking at her reminds her of their Sundays at Jitters and Wednesdays curled up in each other’s couches, and it’s so familiar that Felicity almost cries at the thought of it. Her heart stops and restarts, her stomach doing flip-flops without her permission and she feels complete.

“Yeah.”

They fall into an easy silence, and Felicity doesn’t know how long they simply stare at one another. It should make her feel awkward but it doesn’t – it’s like coming home. She can feel her cheeks heating up, though she doesn’t know why, and immediately looks away to cover it up.

The spell now broken, Oliver ostentatiously clears his throat before saying, “I – you were right, about me wanting to keep our friendship a fantasy.”

Of all the things Oliver could’ve said, this was a bit unexpected. She doesn’t know how to respond to it, and firmly keeps her mouth shut before she embarrasses herself.

Oliver glances down at his hands and shakes his head as he does so. “I didn’t want to tell you about work because work didn’t exist between us.”

He struggles for a moment – his brows furrow and Felicity suddenly has an itch to smooth it over and take his worries away from him.

“I wasn’t happy at Emerald . . . I wasn’t happy in general.” Shrugging, Oliver smiles sadly and continues, “And I didn’t want my job being the topic of our discussions whenever we were together.”

Her chest pinches painfully and it takes every bit of strength not to launch at him. There’s a chance Oliver was severely depressed back in Chicago and she only made things worse for him by pushing him to open up. Yet, hearing how their friendship made him happier warms her body and soul, and she just knows they’re meant to be in each other’s lives.

“Sometimes I wondered why you hung out with me, you know? I was a nobody.” Felicity snorts but when Oliver’s silent she realizes how much it hurt him to be a prostitute. Naturally, his profession forced him to be isolated and prevented him from having a well-rounded social life, but despite all of it, he was – is – somebody to her.

“I was an uneducated former playboy turned escort.” Blowing a breath, Oliver briefly begins to rub his fingers, and Felicity can only imagine what’s going on in his head.

“I – I felt abandoned when I heard you were hanging out with Ray, or with your other friends.” Scoffing, he inhales deeply and rubs the back of his neck. “Which is . . . stupid, since you’re allowed to have a life.”

Combined with refusing to introduce Oliver to her friends and keeping their friendship in a small bubble, Felicity hadn’t realized how her social life clashed with Oliver’s nonexistent one. From what she can gather he spent most of his time with her, so it’s understandable why Oliver would feel that way. In an ironic twist, it’s Oliver who felt abandoned even though Felicity constantly worried it might happen to her.

“If it makes you feel better, I only met Ray twice after I saw him at the gala.”

Oliver blinks rapidly. “Oh.”

She feels the need to tell him she enjoyed hanging out with him, and that whenever she spent time with her friends they didn’t hold a candle to spending time with Oliver. “I never meant to blow you off when I hung out with my friends.”

“I know that now.” He nods solemnly and his eyebrows furrow once more in contemplation.

Hearing how Oliver felt about Felicity’s social life reminds her of last Saturday, when she saw Oliver for the first time in months. Seeing him blissfully painting away and starting a business without her knowledge made her jealous. She wanted – wants – to be a part of his life, and now she knows why Oliver felt abandoned in Chicago.

“You know, when we ran into each other last week, I saw how happy you were without me, and I guess I . . . finally realized you didn’t need me. I got . . .” Toying with the hem of her shirt, Felicity searches for another word besides jealous except she can’t. She doesn’t want to say the word in fear of making things awkward.

Oliver Hmms and when she looks up at him he’s staring thoughtfully out into the distance. It used to bother her so much when he would look away, because it usually signaled the end of a conversation. But times are different now, and she can’t be more proud of them for being able to open up like this.

“It’s funny – I thought the same thing back in Chicago,” he casually admits. This night has been filled with confessions and apologies, but Felicity’s glad they’re at a point where they can hash things out as adults.

“It made me – what’s the word – not sad, but frustrated to see you having a life.” Felicity quizzically looks at him, but he only grins lopsided at her, her heart skipping a beat as he does so.

“I wasn’t jealous, but I knew you went to work, had fun and were excited about it. Me?” Oliver shrugs and if Felicity paid closer attention she could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “I could barely keep my head straight. I wanted what you had – stability and a . . . passion.”

She almost tells him she was never really passionate about being a consultant, but another second passes and she finally understands what he’s trying to say: she cared about the work she did and he . . . didn’t. And although Oliver probably cared about his clients, he went home everyday wishing for something more fulfilling.

“A reason to live.”

Felicity’s sad Oliver didn’t feel like there was a reason to live in Chicago, but seeing him here, alive and happy makes her slightly glad they fought. If they hadn’t, then Felicity doesn’t doubt she wouldn’t have come here, and Oliver would’ve been under Isabel’s firm grasp, working at a job he didn’t love.

“Well, you’re free now.”

He smiles contentedly. “Yeah, I am.”

They fall into another silence but a hint of panic hits her. She feels like the conversation is winding down but she still hasn’t told him everything. She hasn’t told him she loves him. That she’s in love with him. That without him in her life, she’s barely floating by and can’t function.

Her mouth pools with saliva and she can’t bring herself to look at him. This moment is too important to screw up, but she’s never been in this situation before. She’s never felt so uninhibited that it causes her to throw caution in the wind. She feels so out of control she’ll do whatever it takes to grab a hold of it.

Gathering any bit of courage she has, Felicity breathes in deeply and finally looks up at Oliver, albeit shyly and without any bit of finesse. “Oliver, I missed you.”

For a moment nothing exists between them – time has been erased, their past is forgotten history, and the gods from above collectively hold their breath. Felicity’s vision blurs from fear of rejection, but the possibility this might turn into something good stops her from running out the door. She has to know what this is between them, otherwise it’ll kill her.

Something changes in Oliver – his shoulders drop, his head tilts to the side, and he’s staring right at her like she’s the only person in the entire world. It’s as if he’s allowing himself to see her for the first time, not as a friend but as someone more. Someone who can make him happy, someone to encourage him to live another day.

“Me too, Felicity.”

Relief washes over her, coating her skin with tenderness and chills. After finding out Oliver was back at Star City, Felicity felt she was not longer in a position to be missed, because he clearly didn’t need her anymore. Yet hearing him admit to missing her causes her to feel more loved than she has in her entire life, and she wants nothing more than to wake up to the feeling every day.

Oliver suddenly scoots forward, and for a second Felicity thinks he’s going to grab her hand, but he doesn’t. He continues to look straight at her, as if he wants her to know how important his next words are.

She takes this opportunity to really look at him – his hair has gotten a tad longer, the wrinkles on the corners of have gotten deeper and his lips, which were always in a tight, pursed lines have loosened up. He’s always been handsome, but in this moment he’s nothing short of beautiful, especially in the dim café lighting.

God, Felicity wants him so bad, and the ache in her chest intensifies as each second passes.

“Those seven months we spent together were the first glimmer of light in a long time, Felicity.” She hadn’t realized he began speaking, and she has to lean forward to hear him talk.

He’s entirely focused on her but he seems a tiny bit distant, yet it does nothing to dissuade her from losing herself in him. He’s gotten her wrapped around his finger, and the thought of it doesn’t shame her – it makes her giddy with anticipation.

“And I want to say thank you for making me . . . happy.”

Oh no. Not this – anything but this. She came here tonight for the sole reason of apologizing and telling him how she feels, not have Oliver give up on any romantic – or platonic – possibility of getting together.

But something stirs in Felicity: hope. It gets her heart racing and her palms sweaty – she doesn’t doubt that Oliver can hear her heartbeat as it covers the air with it’s fast and thrumming pace. She entertains the idea maybe, just maybe, she’s not alone in her feelings. If he’s willing to write off a potential relationship, it means he was at least thinking about it before, and it’s all the evidence she needs.

And for the first time since Felicity’s met Oliver, she fucking fights to keep them together. To have them as a single unit, bound by admiration and love. Felicity’s not going to go home and tuck her tail between her legs – she’s already done that. No, this time Felicity’s going to make sure they’re in a place where there’s nowhere to run except into each other’s arms.

“Oliver, I –”

It happens without her own accord, but before she knows it she reaches over to grab his hand. Her fingers curl around his calloused palm, igniting a path of electricity she didn’t know was possible and gasping at the sensation. Oliver flinches from the contact, and Felicity would like to imagine Oliver felt the same spark of electricity as she did. But without a moment’s hesitation, he wraps his hands around hers, holding it tight and doing everything in his power to not let go. And it fills her up with such warmth she wants to cry, because there has never been a moment in her life where she’s felt this way.

He’s taught her what it means to love, to laugh, lose and gain it all back. Oliver’s everything to her.

“I want . . . the next day, month, and year to be happy.” Her voice wavers and her vision blurs for the umpteenth time, but she soldiers on. This is it.

“And I want you to be a part of it. With you.”

She shakily lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she’s hyper aware of everything around her – Oliver’s fingers tightening it’s hold around hers, his scent, the long forgotten soufflé, and the fact all time has seized to exist. What Felicity feels is so powerful that it threatens to unbalance her, but she welcomes it with open arms.

“I love you, Oliver.”

She can feel the exact moment her soul leaves her body, anxiously waiting above her to merge with Oliver’s. All this time she’s been missing a piece, and it’s Oliver who’s been able to patch her up in ways she didn’t think were possible. He’s made her feel things she never thought she could, and no matter what happens Felicity will never regret hiring him more than a year ago. He’s meant to be in her life in its weird and awkward glory.

Oliver inhales sharply but his body doesn’t move an inch. His eyes rapidly move back and forth, searching and searching, until he’s found the answer he’s been waiting for.

“I love you, too. God, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Letting out a relieved sob, Felicity clamps a hand over her mouth as she tries to suppress her emotions from tumbling forward. But she can’t help it – she’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and for it to actually happen . . . she can’t believe it.

And neither can Oliver – he laughs, the kind filled with delirium and happiness, the kind that shows up in true, honest moments. The sound is so beautiful and her laugh mingles with his, creating a symphony of love unknown to mankind.

She doesn’t how moves first, but their hands leave each other’s and Oliver immediately cups her face with both of his hands. He’s so close – she can see every single eyelash, pore, and truth hidden beneath his skin.

Placing her own hand on top of his and the other curling over his thigh, Felicity leans forward the same moment Oliver does, her eyes closing in contentment. Their lips touch like two missing pieces of a puzzle, and the sheer intensity of the kiss causes her to gasp – her womb tightens, her toes curl, and her skin erupts in chills as the sensation overtakes her. It’s the single most amazing kiss she’s ever experienced, and she’s already imagining what it’ll taste like years into the future.

Love does a number of things to you – it makes you irrational, angry and jealous, but there’s that other part, the part which makes you complete. The part that feels like coming home, the part that hurts so much you can’t bear to be without it.

And Felicity knows, without a doubt, all the hardships she and Oliver have gone through were meant to lead them to this point. There’s no other explanation for it – if it weren’t for Oliver working as an escort, Felicity would’ve never met him, would’ve never felt such intense pleasure, sadness and happiness.

She never would’ve known what being in love means, but she does now. As their foreheads touch one another’s, their souls mingling for the first time, Felicity has a feeling things are only going to get better. And she’ll do whatever it takes to hold onto it.

Holy shit, last chapter! Epilogue will be posted on Thursday. :)

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #oliver queen #felicity smoak

[yvynyl]

Chat!

 / @yvynyl + @nightlands songwriter David Hartley /

The other day, I connected with my old friend to catch up on life, new projects, old projects, and how we all dream of living in Big Sur. He just happens to write gorgeous songs that sound like he’s been living there all along, not the gritty city. 

Mark Schoneveld: Hey brother! Are these internet wires working? :)

David Hartley: hey man! yes I think the dial-up modem in my garage is finally up and running.

Mark: hahah right on

David: sorry, this is the only instant messenger I use, or am really aware of anymore. is AOLinstant messenger still a thing? I used the shit out of that in college.

Mark: I think it is, yes. I’m not sure anymore either, tho. I just use Messages on Apple products mostly. But anyways, Gmail works.

David: right on

Mark: I’ve been wondering, since I last saw you (when was that? at a Jesse Hail Moore’s show?), how long have you been working on this new record?

David: I started writing the songs during some time off during the last The War on Drugs touring cycle... I was living with my then-girlfriend (now wife) in Ridgewood/Queens and started demoing while she went into Manhattan for work every day. Then when the Drugs finally took an extended break, I rented a warehouse in Kensington and started working in earnest last winter.

Mark: So do you still need to be up in NYC from time to time? Where’s your full-time home?

David: No, I'm full-time Philly. I realized the other day that I've lived in Fishtown longer than any other place, ever. Which shocked me... my wife still commutes to Manhattan a couple times a week but we're dug in here in Fishtown, at least for the time being. I constantly fantasize about moving to Hudson or Ojai or Asheville, like most people, but home is where your friends are. I've found the density of wonderful people/musicians/creatives in Philadelphia second to none.

Mark: Philly does have a certain “dirty magic.” But your music - like a dream from Ojai - seems oddly in place, doesn’t it?

David: It does. And it has this way of wrapping its arms around you. I've watched it happen with my wife first hand. When she first moved here, she was reluctant.. but she loves it more every day.

Yeah, I think the narrative of this album is the Fishtown-Big Sur/Ojai/Lost Coast connection.

My wife and I were married in Big Sur, we fell in love there, we've spent a lot of time there. For our honeymoon we explored the Lost Coast and some off the path Northern California spots... but all the songs were born in dirty/cold (most of the songs were written last winter) Philadelphia..

And, for me, anyways, the California influence works well from afar... The songs aren't about Big Sur, they are about the *idea* of Big Sur... the *memory* of the Lost Coast.. so the songs are about the feeling, not the place.

Mark: All of us Fishtowners have always had day-dreams of living out in the wilder west. Some have left, though! Adam Granduciel did the jump. Is War on Drugs based there now?

David: Adam's back on the east coast -- living in Greenpoint currently with his gf. I think we're still a Philadelphia band, at heart.. Robbie, Charlie and I are based here and we are very close to signing a lease on an amazing studio space in South Philly that will serve as our clubhouse for the foreseeable future.

Mark: Ooooh! Awesome!

David: The Drugs have gotten to the point where we can kind of be wherever we want, and just assemble for tours... so we have spread out a bit, band and crew.

Mark: I need to get invited to your parties haha. Been a long time since we all were chilling’ at The Compound, eh?

David: The Compound. Fishtown's halcyon era, for sure... To be honest it's been a long time since I went to any kind of party, really. I'll catch a show at Johnny Brenda's and, you know, have a dinner party now and again, but I'm so happy with a quiet life--recording all day, reading at night...

Mark: I hear that, man. Hey, I have kids now, so I don’t get to see as many shows as I used to, either. Also, we moved out to the Main Line (crazy!). Way different lifestyle than the ‘hood.

David: Do you miss Fishtown?

Mark: I miss seeing shows 4-nights a week, for sure. But when I do, I make a point to make them good. I’m going to see Molly Burch at Boot n Saddle tonight, actually... She was the first person I interviewed for YVYNYL in its modern version.

For me, Fishtown is mostly an interesting dream, a memory. Obviously, it’s changed for you a lot too!

David: No way... Lindsey will be there. She's a big fan.

Mark: Oh cool!

David: Yeah, I have a complicated relationship with Fishtown. In some ways I'm proud of having been here for a long time... but the rate of forced gentrification is way too rapid, for me. Lots of prefab junky condos going up, we have a juice bar, a fancy gym, vape stores and what have you. It doesn't feel like progress.

Mark: Yeah, I understand that. I did 3+ years in West Philly before we moved out to college-land, and I kind of hold 48th and Baltimore dear to my heart.

So are you out to SXSW next week?

David: No SXSW for me... can't say I'm disappointed. I've participated a bunch of times.. it cultivates a climate that I find toxic. I don't think music needs to feel that competitive ...

Having said that, it's a rite of passage and I think every musician, at least in this field, should experience it a time or two...

Mark: How does the Nightlands project feel like to you? A “Lost Moon”? haha (god, I love that song)

David: What do you mean? What does the project, overall, mean to me?

Mark: Yes, I mean, is this a project that is a long-term goal of your own? Building your own art, not being part of someone else’s stuff. Is it hard to do two bands at once...

David: Well, I certainly take it seriously, from a creative perspective. I totally lose myself in the creative process, and I am hell bent on doing something original. And I don't think it sounds like anything anybody else is doing, really. I'm engaged in a harmony arms race with myself--no one else is participating... lol... but I am not interested in creating some large infrastructure around Nightlands. I like playing some shows, and I enjoy the challenge of translating these recordings in a live setting, but I don't have massive ambitions of headlining Red Rocks or anything. It's about the document.

And when I finished this record, I thought to myself, "I'm really proud of this. I think this will be my last record as Nightlands." And of course a month later I'm getting the itch to record, to tinker... I just love the lab, I love that recording is a science facilitating a wholly subjective pursuit.. so in that sense it feels like the Wild West.

Mark: Excellent. So you’ll be heading out for a May tour or the States, and then you’ll see what comes next. Maybe more music bubbles up in your mind while you’re traveling, too.

David: I'm going to do some shows.. my band is really special. We're going to sound insanely fantastic.. and then by the time that tour wraps up The Drugs will be ramping up. I also have been and will continue to produce other bands/artists.. I just finished a full length with the Dove & the Wolf, which sounds mega. Sounds like Air or Sade, with shit tons of harmonies.

Mark: Oh! That sounds amazing. I’ll need to hear some of that soon!

David: You will be!

Mark: Well, I’m looking forward to seeing your show here at JB’s, but hope to cross patch with you, brother, before then!

David: Likewise man.

Mark: Thanks for taking the time to chat!

#David Hartley #Western Vinyl #interview #conversation #Philadelphia #The War on Drugs #Dove & the Wolf #Nightlands

[dorothydelgadillo]

The Only Thing Stopping Your Successful Tech Career Is…

Let me guess: you’re so over your current career, and—from everything you’ve read and heard—tech sounds like a dream path for getting to where you’d rather be. Working on interesting, creative projects in a cutting-edge industry? Check. Getting paid a salary that can actually help you get ahead on your bills? Check. Being able to work a flexible schedule from outside a traditional brick and mortar office? Check on that, too. So why aren’t you already learning tech skills, like yesterday? Whatever reasons you feel are holding you back from pursuing the tech career of your dreams, I bet they have something in common with what we hear from our students on a daily basis.

The good news is, no matter how real and overwhelming these reasons might seem to you, they’re not nearly as big a problem as you might think—in fact, they might not even be a problem at all. So sit back and read on as we round up the top five reasons you haven’t started your tech career yet, and you’ll see why each of these myths need to be returned to the Fiction section—stat!

I Don’t Have the Time

Perception of time can derail any kind of career change —specifically the amount of time needed to learn the skills and acquire the credentials or certifications necessary for taking on a new job. Flashbacks to years spent languishing in college classrooms are enough to send even the most iron-willed career change prospects running for the hills, and an industry like tech—with its arcane sounding acronyms and terminology—seems like a particularly intensive time commitment.

The Facts:

But feel free to breathe a sigh of relief—it won’t take that long to learn the basics you’ll need to break into tech. Unlike careers that really will take years to transition into, tech is realistically approachable within a year or less of training—a statement that’s been consistently affirmed to me by tech professionals. Whether it’s a tech pro like Wendy Zenone, Application Security Engineer at Lending Club, who worked adjacent to tech in marketing and established her foundational tech skills through a 12-week coding bootcamp, Blair McKee, Digital Marketing Manager at DNS Made Easy who entered tech in a non-technical role as a copywriter and taught herself web design over the course of a year, or Matt Hubbard, Director of Operations at Fullcontact, who worked in foreign policy and landed his first tech job before he’d even finished taking classes in information systems, I have yet to hear a story where it took someone multiple years to gain the skills they needed to start in tech.

The serious time investment in tech comes more on the back end, after you’re already employed. Although it’s a short timeline to get started, once you do start working in tech you’ll begin a lifetime of learning, adapting, and improving—it’s simply part of the industry. As Izzy Piyale-Sheard, Community Manager at coding bootcamp Lighthouse Labs, told me, even instructors with 20 years of experience at his company are still constantly learning. The upside with tech is that all this learning is on the clock and built-in as part of the job. So if concerns about time have been holding you back, let them go. The time is now!

It’s Too Expensive

Even if tech skills don’t come with a prohibitive time investment, what about the money? The term “tech” brings to mind self-driving cars, commercial space flights, and inflated real estate markets. That all sounds expensive, so it must mean learning tech skills is ridiculously pricey too, right? Wrong! While there will, of course, be a money investment if you attend coding bootcamps or enroll in coding classes online, with average yearly college tuitions for state schools coming in at a staggering $14,210, any amount you pay will be a fraction of what it costs to get a conventional degree. What’s more, there are two significant factors that ease the sting of paying to learn tech skills.

The Facts:

The first is the fact that entry-level tech jobs have a track record of returning on their investment within months of employment. In speaking with Skillcrush alum Chi-Chi Ross, she told me that she landed her first tech job two months after she started a Skillcrush course (and three weeks before the course was even finished). “I was able to make back the money I spent on the course and keep earning significantly more that I’d been able to make before,” Ross said. “Once I started working at my new job I more than doubled what I was making—in fact I saw a 108% increase in my income.”

Similarly, Emily K. Olson told me that by the time she finished learning HTML and CSS through Skillcrush, she’d already landed a remote job with a New York City based company, allowing her to make back the money she’d spent on classes while working from her home on the West Coast (in between travelling the world). “Not only did I earn back the money I invested before I really had a chance to miss it,” Olson said, “but learning tech skills has changed the way I feel, the way I see myself, and improved my life overall for the better.”

However, even when a return on investment is imminent, it doesn’t mean you won’t miss the initial cash until then. But there’s good news on that front too: unlike what you might remember from college or other certification programs where high tuition was accompanied by outrageous materials and textbook fees, free tech resources abound! Whether you’re learning tech skills or once you’re working in the industry, so many of the tools and information you’ll need cost absolutely nothing. Of particular interest if you’re just getting started are free blogs and forums like Codrops and Stack Overflow where you can find tutorials, web design blueprints, Q&A forums and more, all totally free of charge. So don’t believe the hype—99-percenters can afford to learn tech skills, too!

I’m Not Smart Enough

When people want to assure someone that a skill or task doesn’t require any exceptional level of intelligence or know-how, they often trot out the old cliche, “it’s not rocket science.” But when we’re talking about tech, it’s not as easy to dismiss that way. Computers, smartphones, tablets, smartwatches, and all the apps and software that run on them sure seem pretty “rocket sciencey,” which leads to doubts that those of us who aren’t already rocket scientists or preternaturally gifted with genius IQs are simply “not smart enough” to learn tech skills. This fear seems to come from a misunderstanding of tech more than any genuine intellectual challenges, and “smart”—more often than not—really translates to, “I’m not good at math,” something that might seem to be a requirement for tech, but totally isn’t.

The Facts:

When it comes to thinking that math is a big part of tech, no one will fault you for that preconception—I mean, the whole thing is built on 1’s and 0’s—but it really isn’t the case in practice. When I interviewed tech pros on the subject last summer, Monica Lent, Lead Front End Engineer at SumUp, told me that she personally struggled with math all through school. “I was terrible at geometry, terrible at algebra, didn’t complete calculus. I’m even slow at arithmetic,” Lent said. Still, that hasn’t stopped Lent from managing a team of five web developers and proving that math and computer science aren’t the only direct routes to a tech career. Web Developer Charlotte O’Hara, who also described having no background in math outside of basic arithmetic, says this is possible because most web development projects don’t rely heavily on math at all. According to O’Hara, critical thinking and an eye for design are far more important as a web developer than math calculations.

Even so, it’s also important to remember that your own perceptions of being “smart” or “good at math” are often just that—perceptions. Ultimately, my previous look at math and coding led to a 2017 Science Magazine study that suggests our perception of our ability (and not our ability itself) is a huge determinant for success. So rather than convince yourself what you can’t do, think about what you can do, and couple that positive attitude with the encouraging examples of others who have paved the way before you.

It’s Too Risky to Make a Change

Yeah, your job sucks, but you know it’s there and you know what to expect from it. What happens if you take the time and spend the money to learn tech skills, but then can’t find a job in tech? And even if you do find a tech job, can you count on it being secure going into the future? For the risk averse, this kind of gamble might seem too high stakes—but it turns out, tech isn’t really a gamble at all.

The Facts:

I recently looked into the question of tech job security, and the first thing I found was data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics listing software/application developers as the 5th-place growth job between now and 2026. What’s more, of the 30 occupations listed, developers came in second place for median salaries ($100,080). This paints a pretty clear picture that tech jobs will be plentiful and high paying for the foreseeable future. And, as Dasha Moore, Chief Operating Officer and Founder at Solodev explained to me, tech job growth doesn’t just mean more numbers of the same kind of jobs—instead, it speaks directly to the fact that tech is continuing to penetrate more and more industries and positions, meaning more opportunities and greater job security with every passing year. As tech becomes increasingly entrenched in every aspect of business, government, manufacturing, healthcare, etc., the concern should become less about whether investing in tech skills is risky, and more about how risky it is not to!

I’m Too Old

A question we hear a lot when helping with customer support at Skillcrush is whether prospective tech learners are “too old” to learn tech skills. Interestingly, the “old” in this question is all over the map, as it comes in from enquirers aged 16 to 65 (and all points in between). On one hand, it’s a very easy question to answer (simply, “no”), but this age issue often becomes a very real (if very unnecessary) obstacle in learning tech skills (or making any major career changes). As someone who started working outside the home again in my 40’s after 12 years as a full-time parent, I can speak to the fact that I let the “too old” hangup get in my way for a long time.

The Facts:

Last September we started a blog feature titled “Who Codes?”, looking at diversity in the tech industry (believe it or not, tech consists of a lot more than the proverbial dudes in their 20’s high-fiving and wearing hoodies), and—over the three installments we’ve run so far—four of the six coders we’ve featured are in their 40’s, well outside the stereotype of the tech wunderkind. One of those 40-something coders—Jill Caren, owner of digital agency 2 Dogs Media LLC—didn’t even start coding until she was in her 30’s. After spending a lot of money hiring someone else to build a website for her retail business and being disappointed with the final product, Caren taught herself PHP, CSS, and HTML so she could be the designer, and—in the process—realized web development was what she actually wanted to be doing career-wise (and what she’s still doing successfully today).

Precisely because tech skills are so accessible, and—as discussed above—are neither prohibitively time consuming or expensive to learn, any time and any age is the right time to add them to your toolkit. If you let your age fears win, all that happens is you’ll be another day older tomorrow, but you won’t have started learning tech skills—and even then, you STILL won’t be too old to start!

from Web Developers World https://skillcrush.com/2018/01/03/the-only-thing-stopping-your-successful-tech-career-is/