#aliens dick is calling and I’m paid to answer

[weaper-reaper]

Im returning to my roots.. consumed with writing nothing but monster p*rn for the Kindle girlies. I will resist, but this sideblog may become nothing more then what it is.

#sorry Konig #sorry soap #aliens dick is calling and I’m paid to answer

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - II

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,300+

Previously on...

When Y/N arrived at the master bedroom, she was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. She knocked always and found Bruce turning to face her, shirtless and only in his boxer briefs.

Bruce seemed subtly surprised to find Y/N standing in his doorway and not Alfred. But he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by the state Y/N found him in. 

Along with the first aid kit, Y/N had grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her before she could even offer to help him.

“You can either deal with me or you can deal with Alfred,” she threatened. 

“Your choice,” she added when she saw how serious he took her warning.

Bruce’s heavy sigh was the only answer she’d get.

“Come on,” Y/N nudged her head toward his en-suite bathroom that was probably twice the size of most people’s studio apartments.

She pointed to one of the steps that led up to the giant bathtub, silently instructing him to sit.

“Put these on your ribs,” Y/N instructed as she handed him the ice packs.

To her surprise, Bruce did as she asked.

“I don’t need stitches,” he mumbled as he watched her open the first aid kit.

“I know,” she answered. “Which is lucky for you, because I have no idea how to stitch people up.” 

She dabbed some cotton in hydrogen peroxide. “But…you still need to clean those cuts or they’ll take longer to heal and probably scar.”

Once again, Y/N was surprised to see that Bruce did as she said. He didn’t complain or refuse her assistance – just sat there silently. The man didn’t even flinch and Y/N knew she was causing his injuries to sting.

“What happened tonight that has you so upset?” Y/N finally asked after silently caring for him for a few minutes.

“What makes you think I’m upset?”

She sighed softly. “I’ll be the first to admit that you’re nearly impossible to read. But clearly something happened that caused you to storm out of the cave like you did.”

Bruce didn’t respond.

“Was it them?” Y/N asked carefully. “The Court?"

For a moment, she thought he’d ignore that question too.

“They know I’m protecting you. Well…they know that Batman is protecting you.”

Y/N shrugged. “We knew they were gonna figure it out eventually.”

Bruce remained silent.

“Did they send the Talons after you?”

From his expression, Y/N knew she was right.

The Talons were a group of lethal assassins that did all of the dirty work for The Court of Owls. They were highly trained, almost entirely undetectable, and a force to be reckoned with. Probably only second to the League of Assassins when it came to deadliness.

“That’s why Jason was with you,” Y/N pointed out. “You needed backup.”

“We had it under control,” was all Bruce said.

“I know you were already going after The Court,” Y/N told him gently. “And you need my help.” She hesitated and took in a shaky breath, “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“What was your plan?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to you and told you that you’d been made, you said that you knew. What was your plan?”

“Run. And keep running. You and I both know I’m hopeless when it comes to an actual fight.” She shrugged. “My plan was to keep working on exposing them and stay alive long enough to see it through.”

Y/N waited for some sort of lecture, for Bruce to tell her that it was a stupid plan and she had been sloppy. She waited to feel patronized and belittled.

But Bruce just stared at her.

“What?” She challenged.

“I wish you would prioritize your life a bit more.”

She moved back a little from cleaning his cuts and snorted. “What? Like you?” 

Then she shook her head and went back to cleaning his cuts. “You’re so not the person to be lecturing about self-preservation, Bruce.”

Then Bruce surprised them both.

He grabbed Y/N by the back of her neck and brought her down to him before his lips collided with hers.

She dropped all the medical supplies in her hand from the shock of it all. But then she was cupping his face and kissing him back.

Next thing she knew, Bruce had steered her body so she was straddling his lap.

It had been so long since that night that Y/N had almost forgotten what his lips felt like. Or how his hands touched her so tenderly, but his intent was always clear and effortlessly confident.

But then Y/N’s leg accidentally collided with one of Bruce’s bruised ribs.

It didn’t deter him. He had every intention of ignoring it.

But Y/N felt his body tense in pain and she swore she felt the vibrations of the quietest pained moan from him. 

She could’ve imagined it, but she wasn’t going to continue knowing that she had the ability to accidentally hurt him.  

But it was also her saving grace. Because Y/N shouldn’t be doing this. 

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. Bruce allowed the movement, but his grip on her waist and neck didn’t ease in the slightest.

“You should rest,” she whispered to him.

Then she shoved herself away from him and awkwardly stepped backwards as if she was desperately trying to put space between them.

“Umm…make sure you keep that ice on your ribs,” she told him awkwardly, half turned away from him.

Bruce opened his mouth to stop her, but no words came out. 

The next second, she bolted out of the bathroom and then his master suite.

Her mind was racing with so many thoughts that Y/N didn’t notice Dick catching her race into her own bedroom.

Dick looked between Y/N’s closed door and the direction of Bruce’s room, putting it all together. 

—————

After the close call with the Talons, Bruce had all hands on deck. Even Jason – who usually did his own thing and had separated himself from family matters – had been brought into the fold. Which meant he was spending way more time around the manor.

Y/N knew things were getting serious.

Bruce wasn’t exactly keeping her in the dark. But he also wasn’t being forthcoming with information.

Y/N didn’t know if he was trying to shield her in some way…or if he was just doing business as usual and taking control, not allowing anyone in until he thought it was absolutely necessary.

Either way, through the chaos of it all, Y/N realized Dick hadn’t acted as her shadow in almost a week.

It wasn’t until Jason decided to bother Y/N that she realized what had changed.

Jason leaned backwards against the console Y/N was working on so she was forced to face him. He crossed his arms with a smirk and looked down at her.

“So, you and B, huh?”

“Get off my equipment,” she warned him darkly without even glancing at him.

But inside, she was internally freaking out. 

Y/N made a point to keep as many facts about her life a secret. And her sex life? That was top priority when it came to her privacy. This was worst case scenario.

But also, how the hell did he figure that out?

Jason shrugged, but did as she asked and took a step away from the console. “He didn’t say anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Y/N finally looked up him. “Please tell me what I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone.”

Jason smiled and whistled. “I think I like you.”

“The feeling’s not mutual,” she mumbled as she began typing again.

“Jason, leave her alone.”

Y/N turned to see Dick walking into the cave.

Jason held up his hands in surrender and gave his brother an innocent face. “I was just trying to be polite to our guest, Richard.”

“I’m sure you were,” Dick side eyed him.

Jason then turned to Y/N and put on his Red Hood helmet. “I look forward to having more of these titillating conversations, Y/N.” Then he turned to Dick. “I’m heading out on patrol.”

He mounted his motorcycle and raced out of the cave, leaving Dick and Y/N alone for the first time in awhile.

“No patrol for you tonight?” Y/N asked him slowly.

“They’ve got it covered.”

She just nodded and didn’t ask any further questions.

All at once, they were submerged into strange silence. The air was racing with thoughts, yet the tension seemed to simultaneously make it thick, as well.

Y/N sighed. She might as well get this over with. 

“I know you want to ask, so just ask,” Y/N mumbled as her fingers raced across the keyboard and her eyes never left the screens.

“Doesn’t the whole…” Dick really didn’t know how to put it delicately.

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed with his fumbling. She turned around in her chair to face him. “Does his age bother me? Is that what you’re struggling to ask?”

Dick shifted his weight awkwardly, “I guess so. Yeah.”

She raised her brow. “Haven’t you dated a literal alien before?”

“That’s not the same thing,” he defended with a glare.  

“Oh, so as long as the alien is the same age as you, it’s fine?”

Dick really didn’t have an answer for that.

“It’s just that…aren’t you a little young for him?” Somehow he managed to leave out the rudeness in the question. That must be the Wayne charm.

“Isn’t 9 a little young to put on a costume and fight crime?”

Dick sighed, “Touché.”

“I am one of the most successful hackers in the world. He’s a vigilante who dresses up as a bat. What about us screams normal and conventional to you, Dick?”

He knew she had a point.

“Plus, we aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing. Nothing more. It happened a long time ago.”

However, she conveniently left out the heated kiss they shared last night.

“You sure about that?” Dick challenged.

Y/N just eyed him.

“Because the only women he’s had one-time things with are the one’s he’s used or paid to keep the image.” He took a step closer. “And they definitely didn’t know who he really was.”

Y/N tried not to let it show that his words caught her off guard.

This exactly what Y/N didn’t want.

She didn’t want anyone putting ideas in her head that she actually meant something to Bruce Wayne. Because she might make the mistake of believing it.

It happened once. They slept together once. One time. 

Had there been a indescribable intensity between them since then? Yes. But Y/N didn’t like to acknowledge or think about that.

“Can we please stop talking about this?” She asked.

Dick blinked and shook his head. “Sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to…make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N put her face in her hands and groaned.

Then she shot to her feet and faced Dick. If he wasn’t a vigilante who could break the average man in one swift move, he would be intimidated by the energy radiating off of her.

“Hmm…I wonder why this conversation could ever make me feel uncomfortable, Dick,” her sarcasm was almost too natural.

Then her face dropped.

 When her body language screamed that she was embarrassed, that’s when Dick felt like a piece of shit.

“Look, we’re not…” She didn’t even know how to explain this. “We’re nothing. OK?”

Dick nodded slowly, “OK.”

And he believed her. Because she believed it. Whether that was the truth though, that was an entirely different story.

“We met years ago because I threatened to expose his identity to the world.”

Dick blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Y/N at least had the shame to look guilty about it.

“You threatened him? You threatened Bruce Wayne? The man who dresses up as a bat and scares the shit out of the criminals of Gotham?”

“I didn’t plan on actually doing it!” Y/N tried to defend. “I needed to get his attention. And guess what, it worked.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought back in time. “I discovered a sex trafficking ring. I had all the information, everything to take it down. I just needed a little…muscle.”

“And you thought Batman could be that muscle,” Dick finished for her.

She nodded.

Then Dick looked at the all the equipment. Her story reminded him what she was fully capable of and why she was here in the first place. “How did you learn to do all of this?”

It was obvious that he was trying to change the subject and give her an out. But she let him still.

Y/N shrugged.

“Is this the part where you tell me about all your degrees from various Ivy League universities?” Dick teased.

“I didn’t go to college,” she told him evenly.

“You di–How is that even possible?”

“I don’t agree with institutionalized higher education.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she warned him. “You didn’t go to college either.”

Dick scoffed and crossed his arms. “Of course that’s old information to you. Is there anything that you don’t know about me?”

She smirked at his obvious frustration. “I don’t know your favorite color.”

Though she had been teasing him before, her confession was genuine. And her soft tone didn’t go amiss with Dick.

For a moment, Y/N didn’t think he was going to tell her. 

“It’s red,” he told her softly.

“Hmm,” she was surprised. “I always assumed it was blue…because of the uniform and all.”

“Red was always the color of my family’s costumes.” He knew the answer was rather vague.

Y/N’s face turned sympathetic, “The Flying Graysons?”

Dick nodded.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that she seemed to know everything about him.

“Red’s a good choice,” Y/N added with a sad smile.

But he realized what she was actually saying was her condolences. Somehow it was better than the forced and awkward “I’m so sorry” he constantly got.

Dick grabbed a chair and sat down to face her with such purpose.

“What else do you want to know?”

Y/N allowed herself to smile at the question. 

“Everything.”

—————

Y/N got addicted to Dick’s openness.

Once Dick Grayson decided to trust someone…he really trusted them.

He didn’t hide himself from Y/N.

Unlike Bruce, Dick was easy to read. But Y/N knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. She saw the way Dick communicated with old team members or even on comms with his brothers. 

But for Y/N, if she asked him something, Dick gave her the answer.

It was as simple as that.

There were no games, no hiding, nor withholding, not manipulation, no fear.

There was just Dick Grayson.

But Y/N also new he was capable of all of those things still. She’d seen him twist conversations and put the focus on the other person. He doesn’t seem to have any issue with blatantly lying. That’s when Y/N saw Bruce.

So why was she different?

————

“I can’t stay another second in this fucking house,” Y/N snapped one day.

They had just eaten dinner and were now sitting in one of the dens. 

Dick laughed at her. “It’s not exactly a prison, Y/N. You’re in a mansion with everything you could ever need – and more.”

But this was the most time Y/N had spent in one place. She was always moving, always on the run. Yeah, she stayed in Gotham for the most part, but she missed the dangerous streets of the city.

“I’m not taking you out,” Dick gave her a warning look as he pointed at her.

“OK. First off, Bruce said nothing about me not being able to leave.”

Dick gave her a look that said, ‘How dumb do you think I am?’

“And if you were with me, then it’s fine. Right?”

“Y/N,” Dick groaned.

“And finally, I can do what I want,” Y/N added with a serious look.

“Sure you can,” he smirked.

But Y/N was being serious and she stood up. “I’m not his prisoner.”

Then she was headed toward the garage.

“No one said you were,” Dick called out after her.

He jumped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Y/N, you know more than anyone that The Court has eyes everywhere. Your face shows up on one street camera for a second and you’ll be tagged. They’ll follow you back here and then nowhere will be safe.”

“I know,” she answered as if it were obvious. “But we’re just going for a drive. Half of Bruce’s cars have tinted windows. And we’re going to take the backroads on the fringe. No street cameras. I doubt we’ll even see another car.”

Dick was adding up the risks in his head, calculating every possible outcome.

“Is Nightwing scared of what Batman will think?” Y/N teased.

Dick raised his eyebrow in amusement and crossed his arms. “Whatever game you’re trying to play…we both know I can play it better.”

She gave him the most innocent face. 

Dick sighed. Was he really about to do this?

“Come on,” he told her.

“Really?” Y/N was shocked she got him to concede.

“But I’m driving. And we’re taking the bike,” he called over his shoulder as he turned on the lights of the garage.

‘Garage’ was an understatement. It looked more like a fancy warehouse that housed at least 20 cars and a dozen motorcycles.

“The bike?” Y/N questioned.

Dick chuckled. “What? You scared of riding motorcycles?” 

Before she had the chance to answer, he pushed a helmet into her chest. It would fully cover her face and had a tinted visor shield on it. 

“Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

Y/N glared at him and put on the helmet.

She watched a safe distance away as Dick started his motorcycle and revved he engine.

Even though she was wearing a helmet, he could still tell she was apprehensive.

“Come on,” he encouraged her gently before putting on his own helmet.

Slowly, she approached the motorcycle.

“Just swing your leg over – there you go,” he instructed.

Then he put on his helmet and Y/N realized there were comms linked between the two helmets so they could hear each other easily.

“Uhh…where do I–how do I hold on?” Her question stumbled out.

To her surprise, he didn’t verbally answer. Instead, Dick just reached behind him for her hands and placed them under his leather jacket and around his waist.

The contact felt strangely intimate. And Y/N hated that it made her heart race a bit faster. She hoped he couldn’t feel it as her chest bumped against his back. Hopefully he would just think it was her adrenaline and fear from the bike. 

“Good?” He asked as he revved the engine again.

“I think so?”

Suddenly they shot out of the garage and raced down the long drive that led to the gate. 

Y/N didn’t think Dick was going unusually fast, by any means. But the motorcycle made everything feel more extreme. She slowly started to put together why people liked riding them so much. It was a rush. 

Dick did as he suggested and took backroads, avoiding any main streets or heavy-traffic areas. Which meant a lot of twists and turns.

But Y/N was surprised when he started to slow down and pulled onto a street that was just surrounded by forests. The sun had just set and the sky was colored pink and purple.

Dick turned off the bike when they reached a clearing. It was a meadow, with tall grass that moved like the ocean from the night breeze.

Y/N took off her helmet and grinned at the sight. 

She turned to Dick, “Didn’t expect a city boy like you to know places like this…”

“City boy?” Dick looked insulted. “I was a traveling circus kid before Bruce took me in.” He looked out at the land, “This was one of our stops. We set up right over there,” he pointed to an open field where the ground was even and the grass was short.

Y/N’s face changed when she realized Dick had a connection to this place. It wasn’t just a stop off the highway. It meant something to him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. It was hard to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“Taking me here. For taking me anywhere, really.”

“Despite how enormous the manor is, it’s suffocating sometimes,” Dick tried to reason with her. “Has it really been so bad, being stuck with us?”

“No,” she quickly answered and took a step toward him. “How much time have you spent working with a team?”

Dick thought about it. “I mean, after leaving Bruce, I just went from one team to another. Even when I think I’m working alone, my family is always around the corner.”

Y/N gave him a sad smile, already knowing that would be his answer. “I never had that. It’s always just been…me.”

“Why?” Dick questioned. 

He knew better than anyone that heroes found other heroes, whether they wanted to or not. And he knew from experience that a team had a stronger chance of changing the world for the better. Even Bruce gave up on being a lone warrior – despite him trying to believe he still is one. 

“I don’t go after criminals that wear face paint and shoot guns, Dick. I go after the people that terrify others into silence and submission. I go after the people that most don’t even know we should be going after.” She shook her head. “It’s dangerous in a different way. And I never wanted to risk anyone else’s life but my own.”

“But when things go south, who’s got your back?” Dick challenged.

Y/N thought about it a moment and just shrugged.

Dick’s eyes saddened. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Y/N.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement.

When there was a large gust of wind, Y/N closed her eyes as if it would help her body absorb the nature around them.

Dick allowed himself to take her in while her eyes were closed – all of her. 

He still didn’t know so much about her past – what she’s seen, what she’s been through. But he felt like he understood her as a person. He saw how intelligent she was, how she explained things to Tim without sounding condescending or embarrassing him for not knowing. Or how patient she was with Damian when he was his bratty self, and she clearly saw his behavior for what it was: a child who didn’t know how to converse with normal people. And when Jason was a sarcastic smartass, Y/N gave it right back to him. Dick also didn’t miss how Y/N offered to help Alfred cook and clean up as if it wasn’t his job.

The moment Dick was having as he looked at Y/N was interrupted by his phone.

“100 bucks that it’s Bruce,” Y/N griped.

And when Dick pulled it out from his pocket, lo and behold, Bruce’s name was lit on the screen.

“Hello. Yeah, she’s with me. We just went for a drive. We’re heading back now.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N asked, “Was he pissed?”

“He was extremely calm, which is probably not a good sign.”

But Dick didn’t seem too concerned with Bruce’s wrath. He’d grown out of that long ago. 

“Come on,” he nodded to his parked motorcycle.

Y/N slid on the bike behind him with much more confidence and finesse this time. And there was no hesitation as she wrapped her hands around around Dick’s waist. He swore her grip was tighter too.

“Ready?” Dick still asked her. 

But then his hand seemed to have a mind of his and slid over the grip she had on his waist, brushing across one of her hands almost…affectionately.

He didn’t even realize he did it until a few seconds afterward.

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed.

The ride back was less peaceful. The sun had gone down and if they weren’t in view of Gotham’s city lights, they couldn’t see their surroundings. It also didn’t help that they knew they were returning to the manor to face Bruce.

When they parked inside the garage and turned off the engine, they both heard Bruce call Dick’s name from inside.

Y/N winced, but quickly recovered.

She squeezed Dick’s upper-arm. “Don’t worry. This is on me.”

Before Dick couldn’t argue and say he wasn’t scared of Bruce, Y/N was walking back into the manor.

“Need I remind you that you’re number one on The Court of Owls’ hit list?” Bruce told Y/N darkly.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and slacks. It was an off-duty look for him, but he still looked like he was in some sort of uniform.

“Dick had nothing to do with it,” Y/N defended calmly. “I threatened to photoshop nudes of him and sell them to TMZ and the Daily Mail.”

Bruce shared a look with Dick over Y/N’s shoulder, proving that he already knew Y/N had made no such threat.

“I’ll be in my lab,” Y/N announced, deciding to end the conversation before it could turn into a lecture or argument. 

When she passed Bruce, Y/N turned around and gave Dick a grateful smile before mouthing, ‘Thank you’ to him.

Now it was just Bruce and Dick.

“If you want to lecture me, just get it over with,” Dick sighed.

“You know better,” Bruce answered.

“She was going to leave whether I went with her or not. I thought it was best to keep an eye on her. I wasn’t stupid about it, Bruce.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

Dick glared at him. “We can’t keep her locked up here forever.”

“She’ll stay until we take down The Court. Until then, she’s at risk.”

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Careful, Bruce. It’s starting to sound like you’re making this personal.”

But they both knew there was another meaning behind his words. Dick saw Bruce put together what he was really trying to say. ‘I know you two have a history. I know what happened between you.’

But Dick didn’t know what was happening now. 

Bruce just glared at him and said, “I could say the same to you.”

Then he turned and left.

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

Part III

Ooooooo. The drama!

Let me know what you think! Please 😔

#all men have limits #all men have limits chapter 2 #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #batboys #batfam #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader x dick Grayson

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 12

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: You want to make a run into town, but you're forced to take one of the Guardians with you if you want to leave. Guess who get's the pleasure of annoying you? If that wasn't bad enough, someone decides to show up at your door...

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: For my records, this is day 17 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 6,751

"Where you going?"

You turned and looked towards the source of the voice, Peter's voice, coming from a door to the kitchen. You had just grabbed your keys from the kitchen counter and you were finishing up the short list on your phone.

Obviously you had intended to quickly run your errands the other day when you planned to take the raccoon corpse into town to be tested, but when Fury showed up having brought his own doctor and lab to test the raccoon on site, and also sentenced you to wearing your arm in a sling, you obviously hadn't done that.

It had been a couple days since then, you having wanted to get used to the sling a little bit before attempting to drive. You knew it still wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but you really wanted out of the house.

"Just running into town," you say, not paying him much mind.

"Why?" he asked, his tone weighting the word, almost as if he wanted to tell you that you weren't allowed.

You look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Because I need to? Ya know, check the mail, pick some stuff up, post a few bills?" You knew it could all wait, and the bills could be paid online if you really needed to, but he probably didn't know that. "Unless you need something I really don't see what it is to you." You weren't meaning to sound like a dick, but he was acting weird. You didn't like his tone, and his weirdness was only emphasized when you start to approach the doorway to exit the kitchen but he didn't move.

His eyes briefly went to your arm in the sling-brace. "Don't you think you should be taking it easy?"

That's what it was. Knew it. You roll your eyes so hard one might think they'd get stuck. "I'm literally fine." You make a shooing motion but he still doesn't move. Sighing, you make your way toward the other door, only to hear him jogging up the hall to meet you there, the sound making you pause before completing the distance, rolling your eyes before continuing on to see he had indeed done just that. You awkwardly cross your good arm with the one in the sling. "Can I help you?" you say irritably.

Gamora entered the kitchen from the other doorway and you looked to her. "Can you please make your boyfriend stop being annoying?" you ask.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," she quipped with a slight smile, "Why? what's he doing now?"

By now Peter had entered the kitchen through the doorway he had been blocking. He ignored Gamora's quip about him being forever annoying and said, "She's trying to leave, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Well, lucky for me, you're not my boss," you say, admittedly a bit childishly.

Peter then donned a smug grin. "You're right. She is." He nodded in Gamora's direction, referring to the task Fury had assigned Gamora, essentially making her your babysitter as punishment for you neglecting to seek medical attention for your arm.

Your nostrils flared in irritation at him bringing it up and Gamora gave him a look that clearly stated she was uncomfortable. No one had mentioned the incident since the first day. You, because you didn't want to be reminded Fury was treating you like a child, and the others for pretty much the same reason, seeing no reason to provoke you, especially since you were seemingly behaving. (Again, aside from Rocket, but you had taken to keeping your earbuds in for most of the time, so if he did act like a dick to you it often fell on deaf ears.)

"Peter, I really doubt Fury intended for us to keep her locked inside." Gamora said, having assumed Peter was only wanting to refuse to let you go out for a walk, which she didn't understand, because he hadn't said anything when you took one the other day.

"Well I really doubt she's supposed to drive like that."

Finally understanding the issue Gamora grimaced. Peter was probably right.

Just then Yondu and Kraglin came into the kitchen looking to make something to eat, but saw the tense atmosphere.

"What's goin' on?" asked Yondu with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't heard any fighting coming in, but the way you were standing between Peter and Gamora almost implied someone was getting into it.

Peter spoke up, stating how you were looking to make a run into town and how he thought it was a bad idea for you to drive, only he phrased it to group him and Gamora together as having the thought, which prompted Gamora to say back to him that she actually hadn't given her opinion on the situation yet.

Yondu eyed you, or more specifically the brace on your arm. "Can ya drive like that?"

"Yeah." you reply. It was true, the arm in the brace wasn't the one you'd need for changing gears or signaling, so you should be fine, even if truthfully it'd be better if you didn't.

Yondu shared a glance to Kraglin and then shrugged. "Don't see a problem then." He turned toward the pantry, Kraglin following his lead, before he added, "Long as ya take Quill with ya."

You blinked. "Excuse me? Why would I- That's not- I'm not-" You were caught off guard and were now sputtering, clearly not thrilled with his addendum.

Yondu grinned at Kraglin, who was wondering where the elder was going with this, before saying nonchalantly, "If you're too nervous to take a passenger like that, then ya don't need to be going alone."

"I didn't say that!" you countered, pushing down the fact that the thought actually had entered your mind. "Maybe I just don't want to be annoyed by him- and I actually don't know if I can take him. That was never discussed." Again, this was also true. The topic hadn't come up. You had no idea if they were allowed to leave the property. Sure, for some it seemed obvious that they couldn't go into public, but you truthfully had never asked and had consequently never been told.

"He's Terran. Not like you'll run into issue there. I s'pose we could always call yer boss and ask..." His tone was laced with a grin as he turned back to face you with a Terran fruit he'd come to enjoy. A pear, he believed it was called. He was sure you wouldn't go for calling Fury, and he was right.

"No, we don't need to do that," you say irritably. Last thing you wanted to do was call Fury for something like this when he was already unhappy with you.

"I do think it'd be better if someone went with you," Gamora finally spoke up. "It couldn't hurt, at least." She was actually leaning towards the "don't let the Terran with an injured arm drive" party, but part of her believed you'd probably be fine and wanted to soften as much conflict as possible. Being transported in SHIELD vehicles she had seen how the insides operated, and it didn't look so complicated that you'd need both arms. It's not as if you were piloting a ship, and if you did wind up needing help, she was sure Peter could figure the vehicle out well enough.

You give her a mournful look and Yondu speaks again.

"But if yer still set on goin alone, I'm sure Gamora there won't mind callin' that Fury feller. Bet ya just wanna get away so ya can take that brace off without gettin in trouble," he said cooly with a grin. Catching the frown Gamora threw his way he added, "An' if she don't, I can always do it myself."

You tilted your head at the man, expression a mix of confused irritation. "First off, no, I'm not just leaving to do that. Secondly, who do you think you are? My mom?" you snarked.

"Nah, but yer acting like a kid. Somebody's gotta knock some common sense in that stubborn head of yers." Yondu replied, unfazed by your attempted insult as he took a bite of the pear and nodded once more to your injury.

You didn't get it. Why would he care? Why did any of them care?? Was it guilt? Because you wouldn't have been injured if they weren't there? You wanted to ask but settled for just sighing in defeat. You looked Peter over. He wasn't wearing a shirt with any alien writing on it, so at least he wouldn't get any funny looks for that. "Fine," you relented. "Get ready."

Peter let out a triumphant laugh and said he was already ready to go.

You took a moment and opened a couple drawers before finding what you were looking for. "Take these just in case." You tossed him a pair of black sunglasses. "You'll look like a douchebag, but you're probably used to that."

Peter let out a, "Hey!" but you ignored him, making your way past the others to the front door, telling Peter to hurry up.

***

"Can I drive?" Peter asked as the two of you walked to your vehicle.

"Absolutely not." you answered back with an incredulous glare.

"Why not? It'd be easier to let me drive than you try to drive with your arm in that."

"Because I seriously doubt you have a drivers license," you begin to say. Peter opened his mouth to retort but closed it again when you added, "that would be valid here." You open the driver's side door and add, "And because I don't even know if you know how to drive."

"I'll let you know I've been flying a ship since I was ten!" Peter countered.

"I don't care." you reply. "You're not driving. I can't risk us getting pulled over and you not have a license. You're fully free to stay here if you have a problem with that." You gesture back towards the house.

Peter disappointedly huffed but got in the passenger seat. You won this round.

***

Once you and Peter had left out the front door Yondu grimaced. "Might've miscalculated that one..."

"What'dya mean?" Kraglin asked. Gamora also gave him a funny look.

"Thought fer sure tellin' her to take Quill would've made her see that stayin' put wasn't that bad."

"Wait, you were trying to use reverse psychology??" Gamora asked, clearly annoyed.

"If that's what ya want to call it." Yondu shrugged with a frown, watching through the window as you pulled away down the drive, making sure the vehicle looked like it was driving straight. Luckily for you, it was. Otherwise he was fully prepared to whistle and spear a couple of your tires. Kitchen window would've needed replacing too if that happened, seeing as it was closed.

"Doesn't matter what I call it! It didn't work!" Gamora scolded. "If you didn't think it was a good idea you should have just taken our side instead of trying to play games and sending Peter with her!!"

"What'dya mean 'our side'? You were saying she should take someone with her too!"

"I didn't mean it!" Gamora snapped back.

Kraglin looked uncomfortable, not liking the feeling of being stuck in the room while the two of the more intimidating Guardians argued. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by leaving he just stood there and nibbled at his protein bar.

"Calm down, missy." Yondu said. "It'll be fine. And if not, Quill's got one of those phone things SHIELD gave us. Boy can handle himself."

Gamora glared but didn't speak any further, choosing instead to grab an apple off the table and head to her room. Yes, it likely would be fine, but it didn't mean she felt good about it.

***

After several minutes of driving in silence Peter tried to make conversation.

"So... lotta trees out here..."

"Uh huh."

"You make these trips into town often?"

You shrugged.

"I can see you don't feel much like talking..." Peter said awkwardly. You obviously weren't pleased with taking a passenger.

You turned on the radio in response.

Peter tried again after a few minutes when the music cut to a commercial break, trying a different tactic. "So, why are you afraid of doctors?" he asked, turning the radio down.

You gave him a strange look. "What? Where'd you get that idea."

He went into how you seemed tense when the doctor was checking you over when Fury came, and then recounted an incident that had happened the other day.

You had been reading in the sitting room when Mantis came in. You overheard her tell Gamora that her throat hurt, and so you pulled a lozenge from a drawer in the nearby table, telling her to suck on it and to tell you if it still hurt in an hour. If it did, you'd contact SHIELD to inform them she needed to see a doctor. Hearing this, Kraglin had piped up and asked why you would see that Mantis got a doctor straight away, but you had to have one forced on you. You gave him a look before telling him that it was different, and left the room before he could ask how.

"I only just put the two together." Peter said. "It must be because you're scared of doctors."

"No," you said flatly. "I'm not scared of doctors. I just didn't need one. If Mantis was sick, she would have needed one."

"But you did need one." Peter countered. "And Agent Hill told me about what you did in Romania. You needed one then too. Why would you do that to yourself unless you were too scared to go see a doctor?"

You exhale out your nose, annoyed that Maria had been telling him your business. "I'm not afraid of doctors, ok? It was an important job. There wasn't the time to stop and say 'Oops, will ya look at that, my appendix needs out. Better put the job on hold so I can find a doctor.' Not when I can do it myself. Happy?"

"She said you nearly died. That doesn't sound like being able to do it yourself. You can't do things like that. It's insane."

Your face hardened. Who did this guy think he was? Telling you what to do, you barely knew each other! "What's insane is a crime ring that traffics children to the wealthy elite for sexual favors," you snap at him. "So I guess I'm sorry if I wasn't willing to compromise the job to go lay in a damn hospital bed."

Peter didn't know what to say to that. He still thought you were insane for performing surgery on yourself, but he couldn't quite find a suitable argument after what you just said. After a moment he asked, "Did... did they get out?"

You knew he meant the kids. You swallowed. "Most of them. I don't want to talk about it." You turned the music back up, and Peter let it go.

The two of you rode in silence for a good bit longer before Peter turned the music back down again to speak.

"How much longer until we get where we're going?" he asked.

"Not long. Another ten minutes maybe. Why?"

"I need to take a leak."

You almost roll your eyes. "Why didn't you go before we left the house?"

"I didn't have to go then!"

A huffed laugh escaped your throat. "Seriously? You're like a toddler." You shake your head and say, "Do I need to pull over? I can if it's an emergency."

Peter almost pouted from the toddler comment. "No, I can hold it."

"Alright. Suit yourself."

About five minutes later you come up to a town, and a few minutes after that pull into the lot of a shop, the first stop on your list.

"I just have to run in here and grab a few things, they'll have a toilet you can use." you say as the two of you got out of the car, adding, "Don't forget those sunglasses. I don't want to take any chances."

He rolled his eyes but put them on anyway.

Upon entering the store you told Peter he'd find the toilet in the back and told him you'd be looking in the spices, pointing in the direction he'd find you when he was finished. You debated going along and waiting for him since he was technically your responsibility, but you decided against it. The shop wasn't too large so you trusted he wouldn't get lost on his own.

You split off on your separate ways and you grab a hand basket before heading towards the spices. You had only browsed for a short while when suddenly Peter was back at your side. "That was quick." you said to him, locating two of the spices you needed and dropping them in your basket.

"Door said it was out of order." Peter replied, sounding almost pouty.

You shook your head and said, "See, this is why you go before we leave the house." You find the last spice you needed and give him a knowing look as you began walking away from the spices.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid!" Peter said indignantly, following you as you left the aisle.

"Don't act like one." you reply, turning to find the cleaning aisle. SHIELD had been kind enough to include other basic things like toilet tissue on their supply drops, which you had been grateful for with eight other people living in your home, and the Guardians had already come with their own toiletries like toothpaste and soap, but you were seemingly on your own for cleaning supplies. You were now running low on dish and laundry soap. Gods, there was always laundry now. At least they did their own. Mostly.

"You're one to talk!" Peter retorted, gesturing to your arm.

You glare over to him as you walked. You swore, if you heard one more time about how you were acting like a child just for being stubborn about not seeing a doctor...

"Ow! You did that on purpose!"

"Did not." You said flatly, though you absolutely had smacked him with the basket on purpose. Not super hard or anything, but enough for him to feel it crack him in the knee.

He pinched you on the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Didn't do it on purpose." Peter mocked.

You were by the dish soap now and so you set the basket down to grab a bottle. However, you were sure to flick Peter on the back of the head before you did.

"You did not just flick me!" he said irritably, retaliating by giving your exposed side a couple quick squeezes.

Your arm jerked down fast as lightening, having been just shy of grabbing your preferred bottle of dish soap. Your cheeks were burning and you looked around as you scolded him in a whisper-yell. "We are in a public shop! Don't you dare start that!"

"You started it," he countered smugly. However, his the smugness was wiped off his face when you gave him a taste of his medicine.

"See how you like it then!" you say, using your good arm to return his actions. You hadn't been positive it would work, but you weren't disappointed to see the playing field leveled when it did.

Peter's eyebrows shot above the sunglasses, his eyes widening as he crippled away from the touch and grabbed your wrist. "Don't! I told you I had to pee!"

"Oh." You had been so busy bickering it had honestly slipped your mind. "Sorry."

"Truce?" Peter offered, releasing your hand.

"Yeah, fine. Truce." you agreed, reaching up to finally grab the bottle of dish liquid, a little embarrassed as you realized how much like children the two of you had just acted. "Just hurry up and figure out if you or your friends need anything before we leave," you say, making your way down the aisle to grab the laundry detergent.

It was Peter's turn to look embarrassed, only for a completely different reason. "Actually, now that you mention it- if it's ok, I was wondering if they sell... "certain"... things here?"

You put the detergent in the basket and begin to head towards the pharmacy section, realizing it wouldn't hurt to pick up some bug spray and more of that gel for the bites. Mantis had a bad habit of getting bit by midges, and most of the others had started falling victim to them as well. You didn't look at Peter as you walked, saying, "You're going to have to be way more specific than that, dude."

Peter's cheeks we turning noticeably pink by the time you looked at him when he said, "You know... um... the things... for "special moments..." he used air quotes and looked quite uncomfortable, even with the sunglasses hiding his eyes. "Um... you know... uh... When two people like each other very much..."

You wanted to cover your mouth to hide your grin, but one arm was stuck in a sling-brace and the other was too busy holding the grocery basket. "Are you asking if they sell condoms here?" You tried really hard to bite back a laugh, but a tiny chuckle slipped out. It wasn't that he was asking for them that was funny, it was the way he seemed like a teenage boy about it, all nervous and such like you'd call his mother on him.

Peter's face was bright red now. "Don't laugh! Just- never mind."

"No, it's totally cool. It's just funny. I mean, we're adults, you can ask for them. Like, at least you're being safe about it." Suddenly feeling in a better mood and wanting to tease him you say, "Unless... do we need to have 'the talk' young man?" Now you really couldn't hide your giggles.

"So not cool!" Peter pouted, hiding his face in his hands.

You nudged him in the arm and pointed him down that aisle and told him he could find what he needed there. You continued up a couple aisles to grab the bug repellent and itch cream.

You met back up and he wordlessly threw what he had retrieved into the basket, barely looking at you as he did so. You held back giggles at his behavior and asked if he knew of anything else you needed to grab before checking out.

Peter shook his head, and you can tell by his expression he's eager to leave the shop and go back to the house. You almost feel bad for laughing, and you get an idea.

"If your friends liked the Oreos I can pick you up some more. We'll pass that aisle to get to the checkout anyway."

Peter nodded and you grabbed another double sleeve of Oreos before walking to check out. You only hoped you wouldn't get stuck with one of those chatty cashiers.

Wouldn't you know it, of course you did. You weren't super familiar with the cashiers despite frequenting this store, but you had become familiar with the fact that you didn't care for the one who's line you got stuck in, not realizing you had until it was too late.

Normally you feel for retail workers. You knew it was a tough job, but this one cashier just didn't know how to get the hint that not every item he scanned needed a comment.

Laundry soap? "Ooh! Great taste in scent!" Spices? "Someone likes cooking! Anything good tonight? Yum Yum! Ha ha!" Bug spray and itch cream? "Oh those nasty midges are out again. I feel you, haha." Cond-? Oh fuck. "Oh ho! Someone's getting luck-ay tonight! Am I right, my dude?" He winked at Peter, who noticed you looked like you wanted to reach across and murder the cashier.

Peter chuckled nervously and tried to smooth it over. At least, that's what you thought he was attempting. "Oh- aha- no. We're not together. We're uh- She's my sister."

You snapped a glare at Peter as you thrust your payment to the cashier and grabbed one of the two bags before storming off, telling him to keep the change. Peter grabbed the other bag and left the cashier standing there, who at least finally had the decency to look embarrassed by his comment.

Peter caught up with you quickly.

"Don't call me your sister. I barely know you," you say grumpily. That wasn't really the full reason it upset you. Peter wasn't your brother. Your brother was gone. Peter didn't get to call you that.

"Sorry, I panicked," he said.

You brush him off. You knew there was no way he could know. "Whatever, let's just leave. Sooner we finish in town sooner we can go back to the house."

You made your next stop to a nearby petrol station to fill up your car and give Peter a chance to find a working toilet. After the two of you successfully completed both tasks respectively, you stopped by the post office to grab the mail and post your bills while you left Peter in the car. On your way out of the post office you caught glimpse of someone across the road and a brick fell in your stomach when they waved, indicating they clearly saw you. You nodded back out of politeness but hurried to get in your car.

You buckled in and looked in the rearview mirror, only to see the person, a middle aged woman in a flowery blouse, walking towards your car, still not quite to the road yet, and waving her arms trying to get your attention.

"Fuck," you say, putting the car in gear to reverse before stopping to put it back in drive to finish pulling away. This would be so much quicker if your arm wasn't in the damn sling, but you still managed even with having to completely stop to remove your hand from the wheel to safely change gears.

"What?" Peter asked, turning to look out the back window once you began to pull forward.

"Don't worry about it- and don't look back!" you scold. You take a peek in your review mirror to see the woman gesturing in defeat, thinking you hadn't seen her trying to get your attention, and you let a small relieved sigh.

"Who was that?"

"No one." you replied.

"So you ran away... from no one. Sure."

You shoot him a look and turn the radio back up, clearly signaling that you weren't about to discuss it. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

***

Once home you told Peter to put his "special" items (yes, you called them that, air quotes and all, just to embarrass him) in one of his pockets unless he didn't mind advertising them to the rest of his friends. You had assumed he'd be embarrassed if they were just on display for the others based on how he acted in the shop, and the fact that he obeyed implied to you that you were correct.

Once inside you and Peter made your way to the kitchen to put things away. He had refused to let you carry both bags, and you didn't fight him.

Sitting at the table were Kraglin, Yondu and Rocket. On the table were five empty bowls and an empty tub of ice cream.

You sat your bag on the counter and began pulling out it's contents to put them away. Honestly you were slightly bummed that they had finished off the whole thing, if you had known that you might have picked some more up while you were in town, but you didn't say anything about that. You did, however, say something along the lines of "Looks like you guys had fun without us."

Kraglin, who knew you didn't like the house to be messy and knew they were expected to keep up after themselves, began gathering the bowls to put them in the sink, to the eyeroll of Rocket.

"Yup. Ya two missed the party," said Yondu with a chuckle. "I'll admit, that ice cream stuff ain't bad." He then said to Peter, "Yer girlfriend is the only one who didn't want any."

You froze in place, your eyes widened. It hadn't clicked before. Your mind had been preoccupied with other things. Ice cream. Five bowls. There were seven people left at the house. Gamora hadn't wanted any. Tiny Groot probably shared with someone else. Yondu literally said he ate some. That meant... fuck.

You turned around to face them. Looking right at Yondu you say, "Uh, how long ago would you say you guys had the ice-cream?"

"Not quite half an hour ago, why?"

You bit your lips before saying, "Do none of you think to read labels before you eat things?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes playfully as he sat back down. "What? Ya mad we ate your snack?" he teased.

"No no no-" you state, holding up your pointer fingers like a teacher instructing the class on why they were incorrect. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or groan. Probably the later. You look over at Peter, who held a slight grimace on his face. You say to him, "You know what ice cream is?"

Peter nodded. He remembered ice cream. He also knew the moment Yondu claimed to have eaten it what the problem was.

You look back to the others. "Any of you know what ice cream is?"

Yondu and Kraglin exchange a strange look and Rocket rolls his eyes, wanting you to get to the point.

"It's basically frozen milk."

"Ah." Yondu says, clasping his hands on the table and dipping his head with a slight wince of understanding. He was about to have a bad time. Kraglin and Rocket now share a look that can only be described as 'Crap..." (No pun intended)

Disbelieving laughter bubbles up your throat as you bend below the sink to retrieve a can of aerosolized air freshener and plop it down on the table in front of Yondu. "That's for you, for the inevitable. Use it." You walk to haphazardly throw the contents of your grocery bag in the pantry, leaving your mail on the counter and grabbing your earbuds. "Make sure to open the windows... I'm going for a walk, because there's no way I'm sticking around to deal with that again," you say, giving a mock salute as you make your way out the back door, leaving the guys there to deal with what was sure to be the horrible aftermath of their oversight.

*** You finally came back a couple hours later to find all the windows still open, but no one outside, and decided that was probably a good sign.

You cautiously re-entered the house to find that no bad smells seemed to have stuck around and decided to go look for survivors, but first you needed a snack. You were starving.

You ate a pop-tart just for something quick and then found everyone in the sitting room. Feeling in decent humor you said, "Oh good. You lived." This earned groans from the others. They weren't really annoyed with you for abandoning ship, so much as they were annoyed that Yondu would have messed up and ate dairy for a second time. Well, Peter was a little annoyed that you had just left him there when he hadn't been part of who caused the issue, but he'd get over it.

Your phone started to go off, startling you and a couple others in the process. You checked the caller-id and recognized the number. "Nope," you say aloud, ignoring the call.

"Who was that?" Peter asked.

"No one," you reply, only for your phone to chime with a text almost in response. You open the text and your eyes widen before you make your way quickly but calmly to the windows to shut them and draw the curtains.

This, of course, gathers the attention of the Guardians.

"What's wrong?" Yondu asks, perplexed by your behavior.

"Nothing," you answer at first, before turning to face them and amending it to, "Nobody's home," and continuing your task with the other three windows, still trying to retain a semblance of being calm.

The others watched as you made your way about the room, sharing perplexed glances. Once finished with the final window at the back of the room you started heading towards the door when Mantis grabbed your hand.

"Are you ok? What can we do?" she asked, concerned. "Please tell me?" She could feel you didn't want to ask for help, but she hoped her asking nicely might work.

You barely glance at her, don't notice her antennae are glowing. "I'm fine. If you want, I could use some help shutting the rest of the windows and curtains, please and thank you." You pull away and head to the hall, where they can see you draw the curtains on the front door shut through the sitting room doorway.

"I know you said you can ease people into compliance, but I didn't think you could actually make people do things." Peter whispered to Mantis. He naturally just assumed that's what happened. You, miss "I don't need help from anyone!" had actually asked for help. Clearly that wouldn't happen without some Mantis mojo. The closest you had come to asking for help was the first time Yondu had dairy and you wanted Peter to help open the windows, but still, that was less asking for help and more of telling him what to do if he wanted to live.

"I can't." Mantis replied. "She was genuinely asking. She's very nervous."

Peter shared a look with Gamora and Drax stood up from the couch to follow you, and the they followed him along with Mantis.

Yondu and Kraglin stayed in the sitting room with Rocket, who told himself he didn't care about whatever this nonsense was about and continued to play with Groot. Kraglin and Yondu exchanged puzzled looks, because unlike Rocket they were genuinely curious what was going on to make you as nervous as Mantis claimed. Why were you batting down the hatches for?

In the kitchen Drax helped you close the windows and curtains. As soon as he heard Mantis say she felt you were nervous he felt there must be a good reason and that he should probably help you, just in case.

Then you started shutting out the lights, and this increased the other's concerns.

"What's going on?" Gamora asked, authority in her voice as she followed you out of the kitchen. You may be their host, but she still felt they had a right to know what was going on, if they were in danger.

"Nothing." you say, shutting off the lights in the hall on the way to the sitting room.

"If it was nothing you wouldn't be doing this. Something is wrong. Do we need to call SHIELD?" She asked more insistently, not believing you.

You turn to her irritably at the doorway. "No. We don't need SHIELD," you say, flicking the switch to turn the sitting room's light off, much to the puzzlement of those inside.

"I will if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Just then there was a knock at the front door, and you visibly startled in response before freezing in place and whisper yelling, "Quiet!"

The other's obeyed, not sure what else to do or what was going on.

Peter quietly stepped out of the kitchen where he had been peeking through one of the curtains when he thought he could see the dim glow of headlights through the fabric. He saw a blue car pull up next to yours, and out of it stepped a tall man in a light grey sweater and a woman in a floral print blouse. She looked familiar.

"Hey," Peter whispered across the hall, "It looks like that woman from earlier. The one you ran away from."

"Shut up." you hissed.

Gamora looked at the two of you in confusion, but didn't say anything, didn't get the chance, because the knock sounded again and a woman's voice could be heard from the other side of the door calling your name.

"We know you're in there." said the voice. It wasn't angry or confrontational like the others might expect for someone you were apparently hiding from. "Your car's in the drive and we saw you shutting the lights out when we drove up."

You grimaced.

"We just want to talk." It was the man's voice this time.

Peter and Gamora looked at you expectantly, and you shook your head at them. Drax was now standing behind Peter in the kitchen doorway, Mantis having already moved past him to stand next to Gamora in the hall with you.

"Yes, we just want to talk." The woman's voice again. "We saw you in town today, we've been thinking about you."

By now Yondu and Kraglin had made their way closer to the door to better hear what was being said. They didn't care if they were being nosy.

The man spoke your name now, questioningly, as if to ask if you could hear them. "Ok, we understand if you don't want to see us, but please listen; We forgive you, and we're sorry."

You take in a breath, trying to mask your feelings with the others near. They were looking at you. Gamora's face had softened, wondering what the man meant. Forgave you for what? Sorry for what?

"We shouldn't have blamed you for what happened. We know that now." came the woman's voice. "We've had a lot of time to think it over, and we were wrong."

The man spoke again. "We were just hoping you could find it in your heart to forgive us, too."

You felt your chest tighten and you eyes burn, and so you clenched your jaw and your fists, unwilling to show any emotion to the space-strangers in your home, but they noticed anyway.

Peter gestured to get your attention and mouthed, "Open the door."

You shook your head, and he gave you a confused look. You nodded your head towards Mantis and Gamora as if to say, "Um, not with aliens in my hall!" Although that wasn't completely the reason, and you had the feeling he could tell, as he only sighed and frowned slightly in response.

After a pause the woman spoke again. "Alright. We understand you may not be ready yet. Maybe another time. We're still at the same place when you're ready to speak with us. Hopefully that's soon. We'll be going now."

You waited a few moments before approaching the door, and the other's thought you might finally be going to talk to the couple. You didn't, mostly to Peter's disappointment. Instead you peeked through a sliver in the curtains to watch them leave, not pulling away until their vehicle was gone.

As soon as you stepped back from the door Peter asked, "What was that? Who were they?"

"Nothing and no one," you answer, not meeting anyone's gaze as you flicked the hall light back on and walk towards the stairs.

Mantis grabbed your hand, but you pulled away, telling her that you weren't in the mood to hold hands right then and you were going to go take a shower. She just looked down sadly in response, but you wouldn't look at her to notice.

No one stopped you as you walked upstairs, and when you were out of earshot, Drax whispered to Mantis asking what you had been feeling just then, having noticed Mantis had been reading you when she grabbed your hand.

The other's listened in to her answer as she mournfully replied. She hadn't been able to touch you for long enough to get a full reading, but there had been one dominant emotion when she did touch you. You had been sad.

This only rose more questions from the team. Had the couple been been angry with you? What had you done? Why would their forgiveness have made you sad?

Weren't most people happy to be forgiven?

The sound of your bedroom door opening and shutting travelled down the stairs, followed shortly by the same noise of the bathroom door as you entered for your shower.

Yondu almost thought he could hear the faint sounds of crying before the noise was drowned out by the sound of a shower blasting on.

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader #peter quill #star lord #fluff #yondu udonta #yondu lives #kraglin obfonteri #gamora #drax the destroyer #mantis #rocket raccoon #baby groot #shopping #drama #mystery

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 9: You Just Keep on Giving.

Summary: Katie and Coulson’s team head off in an attempt to track down the missing Asgardian staff whilst Steve confronts Fury about his actions. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: LANGUAGE!!

A/N: Credit to @angrybirdcr​ for her edit once again! It’s a pleasure to have you collaborating for the pictures, hun!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 8

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 Steve was sat on his couch when Katie called him later that evening. Smiling he accepted the video call and she beamed at him.

“Hey, Soldier. Am I glad to see your face.” “You’ve only been gone a few hours.” He chuckled.

“Seven, actually.” She pouted “Jerk.” He grinned. “Seven too long, Doll. How’s it going?” “Its okay. We’re heading out tomorrow to speak to a professor I took some advice from when Thor was first on Earth. He’s based in Seville so not too far away.” “Tour of Europe, nice.” “Be nicer if you were here.” 

“Wish I was. The team ok?” He asked, leaning back to get comfy as he held the phone up so he could see her.

“Well I know all of them bar one.” Katie rubbed her temple. “And like all of them bar one.”

Steve laughed “They made a good first impression then?” “Oh, it’s not the one I don’t know that I don’t like.” she paused, before letting out a groan and wrinkling up her freckle spattered nose “Fucking Ward is here.” Steve frowned and sat up straight, swallowing the anger rising from his chest. “What?” “Yeah, apparently his post was one with Coulson’s mobile team. Go figure.” “Son of a…” Now Steve was mad, really mad. First off Fury had sprung Coulson on his girl, and now this. He looked at her as she shook her head, shrugging.

“Nothing I can do about it.”

“You could always come home.” he suggested, even though he knew she wouldn’t.

“I’m involved now. Might as well see it through. And as much of a dickhead he is, he’s a good agent so…” “I’m not sure I like you being cooped up in so close proximity to him.” Steve sighed, and as her eyes narrowed, he instantly knew he’d said the wrong thing.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t you trust me?” “Of course I do.” He placated, cursing himself. And he did. He trusted her implicitly. “It’s him I don’t trust. I hate how much he upset you and I don’t like him.”

Katie laughed at his somewhat childish answer and he was pleased to see the anger in her face dissipating. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m over him now.” “I wish I was over you.” Steve smirked and she gave an overly dramatic shocked gasp.

“Captain Badass! How rude!” He laughed and then sighed. “But I mean it. If he steps a toe outta line, I’ll be on a jet straight over to break his nose, again.”

Katie smirked “You didn’t break it last time, that was Tony remember?”

“How could I forget?” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk as he remembered that specific evening.

They’d were at a bar, Tony was in town and Lawson’s band had been playing so they had gone out for a few beers. And then Ward had shown up, again. Steve and Katie had spent most of the night trying to keep Tony calm and away from him, and now by some sick twist of fate Steve, unfortunately, found himself next to Ward at the bar as he waited to get another round of drinks in whilst Tony and Natasha were at a table by the dance floor. Ward was watching Katie whilst she danced with Clint as the archer twirled her effortlessly round the floor as the post-band DJ continued to play. Steve didn’t miss the way her ex boy-friend’s eyes travelled down her body and backup again and he felt himself bristle as he watched the man, blatantly ogling his girl. It wasn’t a completely alien thing for him to experience, she turned heads wherever they went, but the fact it was her ex riled him big time, especially as this man had treat her like shit, made her feel worthless.

Steve hated him for that.

Ward glanced up and at least had the grace to look a little sheepish at being caught.

“Sorry Captain it’s just, well, you have a hell of a woman there.”

Steve looked at the man, his voice low and emotionless. “I know.”

“Biggest regret I have is how I treated her.” Ward sighed, taking a drink from his glass. “I was a jerk.”

“No arguments here.” Steve muttered, a bit louder than he had intended as the bar tender approached with his order. Steve paid and picked up his bottle to take a swig whilst waiting for his change, only to find Ward talking to him again.

“She was a demon in the sack too, as you’ll know.” Ward sniffed, looking straight ahead, a smirk on his face. Steve paused, bottle raised to his mouth. Was this asshole actually going there?

“I’ve no idea why I went looking elsewhere.” He continued, before he turned to look at Steve, “The things she can do with her mouth and-“

“That’s enough.” Steve’s voice was loaded with anger as he slammed the bottle down on the counter causing it to shatter, sending its contents flying over the surface along with shards of glass as he turned his head to look at Ward, ignoring the bar tenders squeak of shock. As Steve stood up straight and glared at the man, who was an inch or so shorter than he was, he knew he’d risen to the ridiculous goading and given Ward the reaction he wanted, but right now what he wanted was to smash the fucker’s face straight down into the pool of beer that was gathered on the surface below and watch as his nose broke.

But he didn’t get chance, as at that moment a whirlwind dressed in a grey blazer and dark jeans flew in between them both and suddenly Ward was on the floor. 

Tony had punched him straight in the face.

“Man I’ve been waiting to do that for years.” Tony spoke simply, shaking out his fist as he glanced down at Ward.

“You broke my nose!” Ward’s voice was nasaly as he stood up, shrugging off Rollins who had helped him to his feet. “Yeah well you broke my sister’s heart.” Tony snarled back as Natasha stepped in front of him, both hands on her chest pushing him away. “Sue me.”

“What is going on?” A loud voice said to their side and all three men turned to see Katie stood there, Clint at her side, a blank expression on her face as her eyes locked onto Tony’s.

“Your brother just punched me.” Ward wiped at his bloodied face.

“Yeah I saw that.” She said, her eyes still on Tony “Why?”

“Because he’s a dick.” Tony sniffed simply. “And he was picking a fight with Spangles. Thought I’d get in there first.”

Katie looked at Steve who gave her a raise of his eyebrows in confirmation before she tuned to look at Tony again.

“You were protecting Captain America.” Katie’s lips twitched slightly as Tony wrinkled his nose and popped his shoulder.

“Yeah, that and I just really wanted to hit him.” “Come on guys.” The bar tender said lightly “I don’t want to have to ask any of you to leave…”

“You never did like me, did you Tony?” Ward wiped again at his nose, spatters of blood landing all over his shirt.

“No.” Tony deadpanned simply, picking at something on his sleeve.

“Time to go, Ward.” Rollins pat Ward’s chest and Ward shot one last look at the group before turning to go.

“Okay, nothing to see here…move it a long!” Clint clapped his hands together as the crowd that had gathered dissipated and the volume level of the bar returned to normal.

“Has he gone?” Tony asked, not looking around.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded.

“Good, because…fuck me!” Tony groaned, shaking out his right hand. “That hurt.” “Let me see.” Natasha turned to Tony as Clint announced that the fact Ward had his nose splattered across his face called for a celebratory round of chasers, turning to the bar.

Steve stepped towards his girl and gently placed a hand in the small of her back and she turned to look at him, breaking her gaze from the door Ward had left through.

“So what did he say to you to make you lose it?” She asked..

“I didn’t lose it, Tony was the one that punched him.” Steve protested and Katie arched her eyebrow.

“Oh, and did Tony smash that bottle all over the bar?” “You saw that?” Steve grimaced, peeking up at her a little, sheepishly.

She nodded. “What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter”

“Let me guess, ‘she was amazing in bed…’” Katie mimicked a deep voice. “’She can do amazing things with her hands…mouth…pick a hole’” Steve flushed bright red, which was answer in itself as she shook her head. 

“So predictable.” Katie scoffed, her eyes not once leaving Steve’s “You know he was doing it on purpose, to get a rise out of you. And it worked.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighed, reaching out and gently grabbing her hips, pulling her to him. “I just, well I didn’t like him talking about you like that, I wouldn’t like anyone talking about you like that.” He saw Katie’s mouth twitch at the side as her hands gently wrapped around his upper arms. ”My hero.”

He let out a huff of a laugh and was about to, once again, point out that it was Tony who had landed the blow when the Inventor reminded them himself.

“Jesus you are a sadist!” Tony pulled his hand away from where Nat had pressed a towel wrapped around a load of ice to his knuckles.

“Quite being a baby, Shell Head.” She said airily as Tony glared at her, holding his hand to his chest.

“To be fair to Tony,” Steve said, grinning at the memory as he looked at the screen of his StarkPhone, “it was a pretty good punch.” Katie sniggered and looked up as Steve heard a knock on her door. “Yeah?” A voice from off screen spoke. “Hey, we’re meeting for some food and a few beers if you wanna…” “Yeah I’ll be with you in a sec.” “Are you talking to him?” The voice gained pitch and Steve arched an eyebrow letting out a soft sigh.

Katie laughed. “Yeah, hey Stevie…you got a fan.” She winked as she looked at him, before she turned the phone round and Steve saw a small woman, leaning in the doorway her long, dark hair tucked behind her ears. He rubbed his neck slightly embarrassed and waved.

“Hi…” “Skye, Steve, Steve, Skye.” “Nice to meet you Skye, well, talk to you.” He smiled politely. “You too Cap.” She grinned as Katie turned the phone round. “I’ll see you down there.”

Katie nodded as she shut the door.

“That was the newbie.” She said to Steve who smiled at her. “She seems nice.” Steve nodded. “I’ll let you go get some food, I know how you get when you don’t eat.”

“Oh hello kettle, this is Steve Rogers here. You’re black”  Her sarcasm made him laugh loudly. “You’re the king of hanger.” “And that makes you the queen of hanger by default so…”

“Smart ass.” She shot after a little pause. “I better go, I’ll message you later.”

“Love you.” He smiled at her. “Love you too.” She said, before adding with a sarcastic grin. “My king…”

***** Katie had no idea where the food came from but she didn’t care. A big, greasy bacon cheeseburger with a side of loaded fries really hit the spot, especially alongside a large glass of Aviation gin.

As they ate they talked and Fitz, who was bouncing on his chair eventually lost his composure and leant forward.

“So…I’m sorry…and May told me not to ask but I have to… what’s it like dating Captain America?” Katie gave a huff as she swallowed down her food. “I wouldn’t know. I’m dating Steve Rogers.”

"I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”  Fitz stuttered as May threw him a filthy look whilst Simmons hit him on the arm.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” She smiled “I just… well, there’s far more to him than the shield and the stars and stripes. He’s the kindest, gentlest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met and he treats me like a Queen.”

Ward shifted in his seat and whilst Katie didn’t look at him, the movement didn’t go unnoticed.

“But, isn’t he like, dead old fashioned?” Skye asked. “Being like nearly a hundred.” “In some ways.” Katie shrugged. “I mean he has a few little quirks, but he’s adapted quite well all things considered”

“How is he?” Coulson asked “I mean, I’ve not seen him since…well, I died.” “He’s good.” Katie smiled. “He’s fit right in to SHIELD and he’s happy, we’re happy.”

“Oh that’s so sweet!” Simmons gushed.

“An Avengers love story.” Fitz sighed. “Man, wish I could be an Avenger.”

"What would your super power be?” Ward snorted, knocking back his scotch “Boring everyone to death with algorithms?” “You do know that there’s only actually three out of the seven of us that has a super power or enhancement.” Katie said simply, shooting Ward a glare before she turned to Fitz “Steve, Dr Banner and Thor. The rest of us rely on training or technology.” “So you’re saying I have a chance?” Fitz grinned causing the rest of the table to laugh or snort.

“Never give up on your dreams.”  Katie deadpanned, causing the table to laugh.  

They continued chatting and attacked more of their food before Skye continued with the questioning.

“What was AC like as an SO?” she asked. Coulson groaned and Katie laughed, swallowing the rest of her burger.

“He was the best.” she smirked, “although to be fair, once I started training as a Field Op, my real SO was Hawkeye.” “Now HE is dreamy.” Simmons sighed. “All dark and broody and arrowy.” “Arrowy?” Skye snorted. “That isn’t even a word.”

“He’ll love that!” Katie laughed, shaking her head and making a mental note to tell him. “Arrowy…”

Coulson stood up, gesturing round the table as people had finished drinks and he headed to the bar to get more, Fitz and Ward following to help.

“So how did you end up joining SHIELD?” Katie looked at Skye.

“I hacked them.” She shrugged “I was trailing some guy who had taken some extremis serum and blew their cover.”

“You’d get on very well with my brother.” Katie snorted “He hacks SHIELD for fun.” “Still?” Coulson asked as he placed another drink down in front of her.

She nodded “Much to Fury’s annoyance.”

She trailed off slightly as she remembered the last time Tony had hacked SHIELD. He’d discovered something that she really wished he hadn’t. SHIELD were conducting experiments on the recovered Chitauri weapons. It had pissed her, Steve and Tony off no end and made her extremely glad the Tesseract had gone back to Asgard with Thor. Meddling with things they didn’t understand never did any good. But more so it was the fact that Fury had declared it was all being destroyed upon recovery. Another lie the Director had spun. And she was getting tired of them. Real tired.

Shaking the thought off she turned her attention to Coulson who was now talking about the task in hand tomorrow. The team came up with a plan about who was going where and when, and then Katie decided she’d had enough. She stood up, bidding the team goodnight.

***** The university was a short drive away from where they had set The Bus down. Coulson drove in his beloved red sports car, Lola. When they arrived they easily navigated their way through to Elliot’s office. As they reached his office door, it swung outwards and Coulson held it open. “I’ll see you later.” Elliot was saying to a dark haired, female student who exited the office with a pile of paper and books clutched in her arm. Elliot looked up, saw them standing there and let out a small exclamation of surprise.

“Oh…”

“Professor Randolph.” Coulson smiled, shaking his hand.

“Agent Coulson, Agent Stark”

“Good to see you again.” Katie also took his hand when he offered it.

“Well I never, come in, come in.” “Waterfield 44.” Phil said suddenly, and Katie looked at him frowning. It was only when Elliot looked down at the pen in his hand, holding it out for Coulson to take that she realised what he was talking about. “14-Karat gold nib with mother of pearl inlay.” Coulson turned the pen over in his hand before offering it back.

Katie bit back a snort, it sounded like something Tony would own, but she wasn’t quite sure what the deal with the pen was. “That’s quite an eye you’ve got. I didn’t know you were a collector.” Professor Randalph laughed.

“On my wages?” Coulson snorted. “I wish.” “Well,” Elliot took the pen back and tucked it in his pocket before looking at them. “I’m assuming you found something on the ground in London.”

“In a tree in Norway.” Coulson added, placing the case containing the printed rod that Fitz had made on the desk, opening it.  ”And unfortunately we weren’t the ones who found it.” Katie added “It’s a 3-D model” Couslon handed the item to Elliot who took it, examining it closely. “Oh, that is amazing.” He turned away from them and put the rods symbols under a light to look at them better. “Now, based on these runes,” he muttered, still looking at it, “I’d say I’m looking at a piece of  Berserker Staff.”

Katie smiled as her and Coulson exchanged a look.

“But I think you already know that.”  Elliot looked up as he set the rod down.

“Suspected.” Katie smiled. “My knowledge on it is sketchy, and there are many different theories about it so…”

The Professor stood up and walked over to pull a book off his shelf “Here.” He set the book on the desk and Katie and Coulson looked down at a drawing of a man holding the rod up high over his head, the rod in the book was considerably bigger than the one that was taken out of the tree.  Katie started to read the book as Elliot continued to explain. “The man in question was a solider in the Berserker Army” Professor Randalph spoke “Berserker Army?” Coulson asked “Oh, yeah. A powerful army. Fierce army” Elliot spoke “Berserkers battled like raging beasts, destroying everything in their path. A single Berserker had the strength of 20 warriors”. “So whoever wielded the staff got superhuman strength?” Coulson asked “Fighting with it put the warrior into a state of uncontrollable rage.” He replied, picking up the rod and showing it to Coulson.  “The staff contained a very powerful magic”. “The warrior in the story?” Coulson pressed as Katie continued to read, frowning as she spotted something pretty interesting. “He came to Earth to fight,” Elliot said “But he ended up falling in love.”

“With whom?” Coulson asked “With life, on Earth. Humanity” Professor Randalph shrugged   “He fell so much in love that when his army returned to Asgard, he stayed behind.”

“And the staff? He broke it?”

Professor Randalph nodded. “He didn’t want its dark magic falling into the wrong hands. So, according to legend he broke it into three pieces and hid each one in a different location.”  “That manuscript wouldn’t happen to say where he hid them, would it?” Coulson asked. “Actually, it does.” Katie spoke, and placed the book down on the desk, pointing at it, smiling. “In three verses.”

“Now, let’s all bear in mind these are poetic abstracts from long-lost ancient texts.”  Elliot said as Katie cleared her throat and began to read.

“So, there is one about a tree, which they’ve found it seems. Another is ‘East of the river, sun overhead, buried in Earth with the bones of the dead.”’

“That’s a bit macabre, isn’t it?” Randalph said, folding his arms as he smiled.

“There’s another one here.” she continued “Well, this one doesn’t even have a rhyme. But the gist of it is “close to God.” That could be anything, couldn’t it?” “Yeah, I was hoping for less metaphor, more longitude and latitude” Coulson sighed. “Well, maybe we should start looking at areas and places located near Viking raid routes” Katie said, an idea coming to her “Being Norse and all…”

“There have been some recent interesting findings of Norse relics on Baffin Island off the coast of Canada” Randalph shrugged “Yeah, a virtual treasure trove of new artefacts.”

“Well, we’ll check it out. Thank you for your time Professor.” Coulson said, reaching out to shake his hand.

“So AC, Baffin Island?” Katie asked as they climbed back into Lola.

“Did you know there’s a Mount Thor on Baffin Island?” Coulson started up the car as Katie shut the passenger door.

“Really?” “Yeah, and do you know what’s not on Mount Thor?” Coulson continued. “Anything Asgardian. At all. Our agents on the ground combed over it when all these Norse relics turned up. Didn’t find a thing.”

***** “So like you’re a Mission Analyst.” Skye looked at Katie, across the table of the Planning Room

“Yeah”

“And a sniper with STRIKE?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re also an Avenger…”

“Yeah.” Katie muttered, not looking up from the screen she was studying, “Although what we’re avenging now that Coulson isn’t actually dead I don’t know.” She peered closer at the screen and moved the map 180 degrees using her hand.

“Pretty intense.” Skye nodded.

“Yeah it can be.” Katie was still staring at the map. She’d been running an analysis on the Viking Routes in Europe and she was missing something. But she couldn’t think what. And then one highlighted on the map in yellow caught her eye. She tapped in closer, and frowned. “Now that’s interesting.”

She thought for a moment, and then ran another quick search on something, her mind working ten to the dozen.

“What have we got?” Coulson asked as he walked into the room with Ward. Katie looked up and was about to speak but Skye beat her to it.

"Nystorm’s deep-web message boards are just abuzz with psychos”

She moved her hand over the screen so that it activated the hologram display functionality in the middle of the table, various messages scrolling across the bottom part. “They believe they’re gonna ascend to be the Gods of destruction and death. People suck, sir.” “That’s your progress, “people suck”?” Ward looked at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. Katie felt the corner of her mouth twitch up slightly. “These people do.” Skye insisted “And there’s also chatter about going underground.”

“Could be going incognito or – “ Ward started “ Or searching for the next piece.” Coulson turned to Katie “You said about checking Viking routes. Find anything?” “Matter of fact I did.” She tapped the screen to send the map to the holoview. “There are some sites along the Volga River in Russia, some in Kiev, and weirdly, right here.” She moved her hand once more, zooming into show a map of Seville.

“Here? In Seville, Spain?” Coulson frowned. “It’s a long shot, but Vikings ransacked Seville twice.” Katie nodded. “Or so the history books tell us.” At that point the search she was running stopped and something else flashed up in the corner of the screen.

“There.” Katie enlarged it. “That’s a promising location. Viking Relics found at El Divino Nino, a church would you believe it. ”

“Built on the ruins of an eighth century crypt.” Agent May added as she walked into the room. “It’s a tourist attraction.” She explained as everyone turned to look at her.

“Which in turn was built on Roman ruins from 206 B.C.” Katie read the details off the screen. “It’s East of a river.” Ward hummed, leaning on the back of Katie’s chair to look at the map over her shoulder..

“Crypt could be underground.” Sky offered.

“And lots of bones.” Katie concluded.

Coulson nodded “Okay, let’s see what we can dig up.” He smiled. “See what I did there?”

“I’m glad dying and rising again didn’t change your sense of humour AC.” Katie grinned at him. “It’s still crap.” *****

 “Must be nice, have a mandatory nap time” Fitz sighed wistfully, looking out of the van. Katie, Coulson and Fitz were providing support up top, whilst Skye and Ward investigated the crypts.  It was the middle of the day, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Siesta isn’t mandatory, just very pleasant” Coulson replied, before he spoke into the coms device. “How you doing, Agent Ward?”

“Wishing I was shorter.” His voice responded. “Nothing yet. All my readings are normal”

“What about you Skye? Any luck?

“I’m lucky Ward volunteered to take the super creepy hallways instead of the slightly less creepy dungeon room place.” Sky responded.

At that point the tablet that Fitz was holding pinged and all three of them shifted to look at it.

“I got nothing. Sorry, nada.” Sky continued. “Ward,” Fitz’s spoke, looking down at the tablet. “Your spectrograph is reading something near you.” “ I don’t see anything.” “Well, it’s right in front of you. Oh, wait. No. Uh, okay, hold on. It’s moving – northwest”

The three of them watched the dot on the screen.

There was a pause and then suddenly Ward responded, his voice now excited.

“Visual Contact.”

“Ward, turn left.” Fitz followed the dot on the screen, calling out the directions.

After a moment or so they heard another voice that wasn’t Ward, before he finally spoke again.

“Yeah, I just ran into some unexpected…”

But he trailed off. The three of them sat up straight as they heard some kind of strange, low rumbling noise and then there was a groan of pain, a grunt and silence.

“Ward, what’s happening?” Coulson asked as, Fitz let out a groan. “His device just went down” Fitz tilted the tablet so they could all see it.

“Skye can you get…” Coulson started to say but he was cut off by her reply “Already on it.”

There were a few moments of silence, where Katie nervously nibbled on her lip. She hated this, not knowing what was going on was always the shittest bit of not being in the middle of the action.

“Somethings wrong with Agent Ward.” Skye replied a few minutes later. “The staff’s gone, someone took it.”

“Shit.” Katie groaned as Coulson looked at her, then to Fitz, before he stepped out of the SUV, Katie following.

“He can’t just disappear.” Coulson said, turning in the street “He’ll have to turn up some –“

Then they heard someone yelling from behind them and a loud whishing noise.

“Where…” Coulson finished as they both turned round to see a car being tossed into the street, landing on its roof.

“There we go. A block South of the Church.” Fitz spoke in their ears.

The pair of them started in that direction, running across the street. As they rounded the corner they spotted Professor Randalph who was picking books up and putting them back inside his bag. Katie exchanged a glance with Coulson and he shrugged at her before the pair of them strode over to where the Professor was stooped. He glanced up at them and then sighed, sitting down hard on the pavement.

“Professor.” Coulson stated as Katie folded her arms

“I screwed up.” Professor Randalph said simply.

***** “One of my men is hurt, the staff is gone.” Coulson spoke, sitting at the table opposite Elliot as Katie and Agent May watched from Coulson’s office. “I didn’t want any of that to happen.” The professor sighed.

“What did you want?” Coulson asked “The staff’s power for yourself?”

“Nothing like that.” Elliot shook his head earnestly “You know, I just wanted to be the first to study it. To prove that the Berserkers were actually here, a part of history. You think about that.” “ Oh, I’m thinking about it.” Coulson replied. “How’d they find it?” “I have no idea.” Elliot laughed “They may have the original texts. I wasn’t involved. You know, it was just a chance to uncover something that the Gods brought down from the heavens. “Aliens brought it. From space” Coulson said and Katie smiled as she thought about how Thor would respond to being called a mere alien. “I’ve spent some one-on-one time with aliens before. Didn’t work out too well.”

“Understatement of the century.” Katie muttered, drawing a glimmer of a smirk from May.

“So cases like this are personal to me.” Coulson concluded. “That’s all I know” Elliot, placed his hands flat on the table and sighed. Coulson stood up and made his way to the door before paused and looked back. “Get comfortable.” And the door to the cell slammed shut.

“What you think?” Katie turned to May, who was stood her arms crossed. She pondered for a moment, opened her mouth but was cut off.

“Agent May.” Fitz appeared in the doorway “Ward’s, well he’s not well, he’s gone down to the cargo bay, won’t let me treat him.”

May slowly turned to look back at Katie who snorted.

“No way, my days of dealing with his tantrums are over.”

“Thought I’d ask.” May smirked slightly. Katie waved her off and returned to looking at the screen. Elliot was sat still at the table, looking around the room in mild amusement, not the demeanour of a man who was concerned or phased in the slightest, which puzzled her slightly. In his shoes, she’d be extremely uncomfortable in a cell, being quizzed by a Government body on some kind of extra-terrestrial item.

She turned to face Coulson as he walked into the room.

“You don’t think he does want the power for himself, do you?” Katie looked at him. It was more a statement than a question.

“I don’t know… there’s something not quite right.” Phil sank into the chair behind his desk.

“He’s too confident” Katie shook her head. “Look at him. He’s not phased in the slightest.”

They both glanced at the screen. Now their ‘prisoner’ was sat on his chair, tilting backwards so the front two legs were off the floor. A sudden wild theory sprang into Katie’s head and she turned to AC.

“You know, he didn’t even flinch when you said you’d spent time with Aliens, normally that would make someone kinda curious right?”

“Normally, yes” Phil agreed, leaning back in his chair.

“And how did he know how to get that second piece?” Katie continued. “Do you think he figured it out as fast as we did or…“

“Did he know where to find it, because he hid it in the first place?”  Coulson finished her sentence. Katie shrugged, smiling. “See, Nova, that is why I wanted you here.”

“A moment, sir?” They both looked up to see Ward stood in the doorway.

“Come on in.” Phil gestured with his hand.

“Are you alright?” Katie asked, despite herself. Ward looked pale and drawn, really out of sorts.

“Yeah, thanks. I just need a word with Agent Coulson.”

Katie nodded to show she understood and made to stand up but Ward shook his head.

“Actually, stay.” He stopped her.  “It concerns the team so…

Katie shrugged and settled back down in her chair.

“Alright Ward, what is it?” Coulson asked as the man took a seat next to Katie on the other side of the desk.

“I don’t think back to childhood. Ever. As you know.” He looked at Katie and she looked down. He’d told her about his childhood, he’d had an older brother that had been abusive, as had his father. “There are things I put away a long time ago because I have to be focused, tactical. I can’t be distracted. Especially by things that happened a lifetime ago. But before, when I touched that thing… I did.”

“Touching the staff brought back memories?” Katie asked, curiously. Ward nodded and looked at her “My worst memory”. He paused for a moment and when he spoke again she was surprised to hear his voice was breaking slightly. “The first time I felt hate. And it won’t go away.

The room fell silent and Katie looked at Coulson who took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“You’ve got some rage built up?” Coulson asked. Ward looked at him and nodded. “Maybe it’s time to let it out.”

“Put our theory to the test.” Katie grinned, catching on.

Coulson nodded “I can run with that. ***** “You wanted to see me sir.” Steve stepped into the Directors office.

“Close the door Captain.” Fury instructed. Steve turned, did as he was told and then strode over to Fury’s desk.

“Have you spoken to Agent Stark today?”

Steve frowned. “Not today, no. I spoke to her last night.”

“What did she tell you about the mission?”

He was digging. Digging to see how much he knew and if Katie had kept her word. Swallowing down the annoyance he levelled the Director with a look that would have anyone else quaking in their boots.

“Nothing. All I know is she’s in Seville, and the team she’s working with contains Ward.” He drew himself a bit taller, hands falling to the buckle of his belt. “Which, for the record, was a real shitty thing to do.” Fury looked at Steve “I’m not having the teams I organise dictated by personal issues, Captain. “I don’t expect them to be.” Steve bit back. “But not warning her beforehand was out of order.” “Would she have gone if I’d have told her?” Steve hesitated, he didn’t actually know the answer to that. In actual fact she would have probably been torn, torn between wanting to take the mission, torn between not wanting to spend time in his vicinity. And knowing Katie as he did, the mission would have probably won.”

“I don’t know.” He replied honestly. “I think she would have wanted to do the right thing, I just don’t think all the lies are fair, its manipulative.”

“All the lies, Captain?” Fury looked at him and Steve felt himself pale. “What other lies has she told you about?” “Nothing. It was a figure of speech.” “So she hasn’t told you Coulson’s still alive?”

Steve put on what he hoped was his best shocked face. “What?”

Fury laughed. ”Your acting is as bad as your lying, Captain.”

Steve sighed before immediately going on the defensive. “You gonna de-badge her? I mean that’s what you told her isn’t it? Her job was on the line unless she lied for you?” Fury sighed “I didn’t want to do that. In hindsight I realised it was unfair to ask her to keep it from you. But it’s imperative that no one else finds out about this.”

“Secrets and lies huh?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“We conduct our most effective work in the shadows, Captain, it’s just how it needs to be.” Steve looked to the side, his hands moving to his hips.

“Look, if you both wanna take a few days off when she’s back, it can be arranged.” Fury looked at him and Steve frowned at the man’s outward display of compassion.

“Feeling guilty?”

“Happens to the most cold hearted of us all.” Fury deadpanned. “And I figured you both might need it.” “Both of us?” Steve frowned, looking at him.

“Yeah, I didn’t just bring you up here to talk about Stark.” Fury picked up a remote and turned on the screen. A map flashed up and Steve took a deep breath. “Agent Romanoff has been undercover this last week tracking down more Chitauri weapons. This time to Yemen. I need you to organise an op.”

Steve folded his arms and let out a deep breath. “You just keep on giving, don’t you Nick?”

****

Their theory was right. Elliot Randalph was Asgardian, a fact he displayed by easily bending the blade of a knife that Ward threatened him with.

“I had no clue. Did you?” Fitz looked over at Simmons who shook her head. “Hidden in plain sight, an actual Asgardian. Brilliant.” Simmons grinned, staring at the screen. “How long do you suppose he’s been on our planet?” Skye asked. “A thousand years, maybe more.” Katie shrugged, turning her attention from the screen she’d been watching Elliot confess on to look at the team.

"If we could just cut him open a little…” Simmons mused

Katie and Skye both looked at her, Fitz was nodding his head in agreement. “…get some tissue samples, maybe some bodily fluids, think of all the things we could find out.” She finished. “Or we could just ask him them, weirdo” Skye rolled her eyes. “This is way, way better than the History Channel. I mean this guy has lived through all the scary stuff, the Crusades, the Black Death, Disco.”

“It is pretty exciting.” Katie agreed. “I mean Coulson thought finding Steve was cool but, he’d just slept for seventy years.”

Sky grinned as Agent May entered the room, holding a tablet and hitting various buttons on it. “What are you doing?” She asked, curiously.

“Sealing the interrogation room door.” May replied. Katie looked at her, the confusion she was feeling clearly evident on her face as May shrugged “Coulson’s orders.”

“Ah, locking me in.” Elliot said as Katie turned her attention back to the screen. “Well, I’ve been in tighter spots.” “This room is made of a silicon carbide-coated vibranium alloy.” Ward explained “Meant for prisoners like yourself.” “But you’re in here, too. And eventually somebody will open that door”. “Not if I tell them not to.”  Coulson shrugged, sitting in the chair opposite Elliot. “So the myth is your autobiography.” “ I didn’t write it. I didn’t want anyone to know about me. Then I had to open my big mouth.” He sighed “Were you captured? Tortured?”

“Horny.” Elliot shrugged and Katie let out a snort. “I met a French girl in 1546. Ah, she loved stories. So…I told her a great one. All about the peaceful Asgardian warrior who stayed. Now, how was I to know her brother, the priest, would write it all down and turn it into, I don’t know, a thing?”

“Do you know Thor?” Coulson continued the questions.

“Oh sure. I spent all my days palling around with the future King of Asgard” Elliot rolled his eyes “No, I don’t know Thor. I was a mason. I broke rocks” He chuckled. “For thousands of years. If you can imagine that. So when they came, asking for people to fight, yes, of course I signed up. I think, really, I just wanted to travel.” “ But you had the staff.” Ward stated. “I hated that thing. Other guys loved all the power that comes with the rage. No, I didn’t like it at all.” He cocked his head to Ward and leant in closer. “And you don’t, either, it seems.” “What did it do to me?” “ It shines a light into your dark places. Doesn’t matter if you’re human, Asgardian, the effect is the same. Unpleasant.” “Shines a light” Simmons scoffed “that’s no explanation”. “It was forged from a rare metal and reacts to whoever is holding it. Or interacts.” Elliot carried on. “I went to such great lengths to make sure that the staff wasn’t found. Unfortunately, since the myth was written down, people have been searching for it for centuries.” “I need your help to stop them before they get the last piece of your staff.” Coulson said, leaning on the table. “Oh, I’m a pacifist now.” Elliot shook his head, leaning back. “And you don’t want to risk your identity being discovered.” Coulson carried on “Listen, I wouldn’t worry too much about these angry youths. They always clam down, and eventually, they die of old age. And that is one of the pleasant aspects of life here. Everything changes.” “I’ll tell you what’s gonna change, your anonymity, unless you help us find the final piece of your staff.” Coulson sighed. “You may not know Thor, but I do, and he’s very fond of Agent Stark so…” Elliot slouched on the table in front of him glaring up at Coulson, before he shrugged and sat up a bit. 

“My first love on this planet was Ireland.” He said quietly.“There was a monastery and the monks gave a nice, warm place to sleep, some soup and some mulled wine.” “Near God.” Katie muttered, looking at Sky who triumphantly slammed her hand on the desk.

“I’ll go set the course for Ireland.” May said, nodding.

“Make it fast.” Katie said, as the woman looked at her. “Let’s get the rest of that damned thing before it hurts anyone else.”

**** Chapter 10

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

[thatasianstereotype]

Father, This Is Your Future Son-In-Law.

A short little side companion fic to my Adrien x Damian series. 

First: Fuck. I’m Gay. 

Second: Damn, You’re Looking Fine. 

Third: Shit. I Got To Deal With This Bitch (Again).

I’m still working on the fourth and final part of the series (it won’t be as long of a wait as Part 3). But I wanted to write how the Batfam reacted to their youngest suddenly getting a boyfriend while abroad. 

Creative liberties were taken. Also, this is a crack writing. 

The Demon Spawn who has gotten better at not attacking people at first sight but still just tolerates people. And his holier-than-thou attitude is still there with his love for throwing insults around like free candy. 

This is the kid that manages to snag a pure cinnamon roll sunshine as a boyfriend?

This angry grumpy child? 

Needless to say, the Batfam is in disbelief.

.

.

.

“What?” Bruce thought that the Teen Titans mission in Europe was done. “Why do you want to stay in Paris longer? Is something wrong?”

“No Father. I have simply found someone I wish to court. I will be spending time in Paris to see how best to present myself as an exceptional suitor that is all. Give my regards to Grayson that I will be missing Family Night but that I will make it up by introducing him to his future brother-in-law soon.” 

Bruce was too much in shock to answer when Damian hung up. 

“DICK!” 

“I think it’s cute that Dami is getting a boyfriend.” 

“Dick, you oblivious and naive child, you are completely missing the point.” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m pretty sure Damian isn’t actually going to marry someone right now.”

“He said ‘future brother-in-law’ inferring that this courtship he wants to initiate will end in a wedding.” 

“I think you are reading too much into this, B.” 

“And you are not reading enough. Have I taught you nothing at all?

“You taught me paranoia.” 

“I taught you to be prepared for every kind of situation.”

“Pretty sure the possibility of your 17-year-old son getting hitched in Paris can be ruled out.” 

“Where did I go wrong with you?” 

And Dick rolled his eyes once again at Bruce’s dramatic-ness. This. This is where Damian gets it from. 

.

Ever the peace keeper in this dysfunctional trainwreck of a family, Dick managed to stop Bruce from flying to Paris. But much to their frustrations (even Dick’s who wanted to know who captured his baby bro’s heart), Damian did not tell them the name of his potential boyfriend. 

.

All in all, Damian spent about two months and a half in Paris before coming back home to Gotham. And the Batfam could see a difference right away. 

Damian was happy. He smiled (it was a little one but it had Dick squealing in joy) more and he was more tolerate of his brothers and schoolmates. 

“We should’ve shipped him off to Paris earlier if he comes back like this.” 

Tim was still staring at Damian like he was an alien. The demon spawn still insulted him every other day but hasn’t threatened to kill him at all since he came back. No ripping out his intestines to feed to the vultures or throwing him off a building for the rats to feast on. It was nice. Although a little part of him felt slightly unnerving. He doesn’t have any contingency plans involving a Nice!Damian. 

Dick shook his head fondly at his little brother, taking away his coffee full of too much caffeine and replacing it with decaf. He has truly ascended to motherhood. “Well, I think it’s nice that Little D found love.”

“In the city of love. Is no one paying attention to that part?” Jason munched on one of Alfred’s cookies. “Cause I think that’s hilarious. I thought Baby Bat would’ve choked on all the happiness and bright clean air there.”

Dick whacked his arm. “Stop being mean to Dami.”

“But Dickie. It’s how I show affection.” 

.

Adrien Agreste was the son of the supervillain Hawk Moth that have terrorizing Paris for the last 3 years. Batman was not at all pleased to hear that the Parisian heroes called for help and the Justice League turned them away. People have paid for that. Dearly. 

“So his mom’s dead and his dad’s a criminal?” Jason looked over Bruce’s shoulder at the BatComputer. “Kid’ll fit right in with our family. Demon sure knows how to pick them.”

“Hnn.” Bruce grunted. 

“I mean with you dating Selina, a notorious thief and doing the thing with Talia, a very dangerously lethal assassin, it’s no wonder where your son got his taste from.” 

“Jason.” Bruce grunted in a warning tone. 

“I mean when I’m right, I’m right.”

.

“Ok.” Tim started off tonight’s Family Meeting (excluding Damian), the topic being one certain ex-assassin’s love interest. “Looking further into the Agreste kid shows he clearly did not take after his villainous dad. He is one of Paris’ teenage models and have a huge fanbase dedicated to how pure and sweet he is. He is a literal walking ray of sunshine.” 

“How the fuck did that sunshine child tame our literal feral demon brother?” Jason said. Always the VIP asking the important questions here.

Tim actually had an answer for that. He pulled out several charts and data on his laptop and showed it to the others. “Looking further into Adrien, I have found evidence that he is the cat-themed superhero Chat Noir. Being a loveable and touch-starved kitten appealed to the demon brat’s almost non-existent affections.” 

“Timmy, Dami is capable of love.” Dick said in a disappointed voice. 

“I said almost non-existent, didn’t I?” Tim waved the Mom’s disappointment away. “But you guys have got to see this.” 

He pulled up a video of Chat Noir and Ladybug on the big screen. They watched him using his signature move: cataclysm. No one spoke for a few minutes as they processed the sheer destructive powers of the hero.

“You know what.” Jason broke the silence. “I have no more questions. I can kind of see how Agreste is the demon’s type.” 

What baby assassin wouldn’t be turned on by the literal godly destructive powers the baby kitten held in his hands? 

Dick, the only one wanting to keep things semi-PG here, smacked the back of his head. 

.

“Baby brother.” Cass greeted. She is back home from her Hong Kong trip and heard all about the famous Adrien Agreste. She thought it was adorable and that Adrien and Damian made a cute couple. 

“Hello, Cassandra.” 

She peered down at the list he was currently making. She gestured towards it with a confused look. 

“I am compiling a list of tasks that needs to be done before my Chaton and new sister-in-law come to Gotham. Only the best for them after all. 

Her eyes lit up. “New sister?”

“Yes. My mon amour’s sister will be our new one.” He pulled out a picture of her on his phone for Cass to see. “Her name is Marinette and she will be a fine addition to the family.” 

“Baby sister.” Cass said happily. She was always up for new family members. 

“Yes. I imagine you two will get along the best.” 

But she couldn’t help but notice that with all the preparations he is making, even if it is for his boyfriend and new sister, is a bit —how would Steph say it?— overkill. 

Her coal black eyes were sharp as she observed his body language. “You very serious on this. Why?” 

He can never hide anything from his sister. “I wish for them to have a good impression of our family so that their family will not be disincline to reject my proposal for marriage.”

“Marriage?” She was still quite unfamiliar with some words in English. 

“It means that you will be getting another brother too.” 

.

“We will wed.” 

Dick hasn’t even finished his cereal yet. He looked over at Damian’s serious expression. “Did you even ask him yet?” 

“I will present myself as an extraordinary suitor that he will be more inclined to say yes when I ask.” 

“At least you’re treating your man right.”

Damian took offense. “Why wouldn’t I treat my mon amour with anything but the upmost respect and love?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Little D. I’m just glad you’re in a good relationship and from what I can see, Adrien adores you very much.”

Damian smiled. “I adore my Chaton a great deal as well. Would you like to come with me to pick out a ring?

Dick could just hear Bruce’s voice in his head saying he shouldn’t be encouraging this. But come on, this was his baby brother who grew up learning how to hurt people finding a precious loving relationship for himself and he will be damned if he doesn’t support this. 

“Of course. I’ll be honored to help.”

His baby brother brightened before he launched into a rant. 

“I’m having trouble finding the perfect gem to complement his eyes. They are a certain shade of forest green you see. And many jewelry stores do me a great disservice by not having that certain shade or having utterly appalling quality for what my Chaton deserves.” 

Previous

Next

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Taglist: 

@iglowinggemma28 @iz-bell-saiah @nach0ava @roselynfey @mochinek0 @wannajointhecrabcult

#ml x dc #gaydrien #adrien agreste x damian wayne #adridami #1K fic

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter’s Dating Life

✧ …

✧ You don’t even get a day off. What makes you think you have a dating life?

✧  Least of all a normal one where you don’t have millionaire vigilantes with boundary issues dropping envelopes filled with complete profiles of your dates.

✧ You’re moping in the Wayne living room, sprawled on a couch because your last date turned out to be involved in a human trafficking ring in Gotham.

✧ Worse: Cass and the boys had to save you.

✧ “Get over it, Y/N.”

✧ “But Jason, he was soooo hot! He had sex lines!”

✧ “We have those!” Dick lifts up their shirts to show you his and Jason’s V-cut abs. You look but you’re not impressed and Jason swats Dick’s hand away.

✧ “I can’t believe you tried to convince us that he was just being blackmailed.”

✧ You sway your hand in the air, dismissing his comment. “Tim, he had a baby-face that could rival yours any day, and he was charming. How was I supposed to know he was the leader of their operation.” You finally sit up and rub your face down harshly. “Ugh! Why do I have the worse luck in dating? I must be cursed.”

✧ “Or you live in Gotham?” Cass teases you from the floor while she plays with your styled hair, twirling the curls. 

✧ “I gotta get out of this city or else I'm going to end up like Bruce.”

✧ Dick suddenly gets this bright idea to cheer you up and feed a little bit of his ego. He huddles Jason and Tim behind the couch to look down on you. “Why are you wasting your time with strangers when you have three perfectly well-mannered, well-off, and well-chiseled bachelors in front of you?”

✧ You and Cass bend down to look under the couch, “Where?”

✧ Dick props you back up and he’s grinning wider as he grabs your shoulders, “If you had to choooooose” he drags out the word as he pulls Jason and Tim back to your field of vision, “Who would it be?”

✧ “Questions like these start wars, Dick.”

✧ “Replacement’s right. Haven’t you read the Trojan War?”

✧ “That’s what you’re going with, Jason!”

✧ You sit up straight on the couch and stare at the three of them, making them stop. You make sure to deliver your retort with a deadpan expression, “I’d wait for Damian to turn 18 then live the rest of my life as a gold-digging cougar. Oh! And I would build a pool in the West wing.”

✧ “I’ll allow it,” Damian answers from one of the armchairs in front of you. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded in front of his face. “But after we condition your hips to be fit for child-bearing.”

✧ You walk out and cry to Alfred because Cass won’t even let you into her room. She’s too upset that you would choose Damian and the manor over her and a little apartment in the middle of the city like you’ve always talked about.

✧ “It’s one thing to be called fat, Alfred. But to be told I’m not woman enough by a 13-year-old?” Your eyes widen as you clutch the hem of his vest, “What does he even mean by condition my hips?”

✧ “Y/N, why wait for master Damian when master Bruce is already in his prime. He could use a woman like you to keep him in line.”

✧ You grimace. “Alfred. Are we working for the same guy? Would you date Bruce?”

✧ Alfred gives you a long look before he speaks again, “Perhaps I can introduce you to one of my nephews when they visit?”

✧ “Now we’re talking.”

✧ One day, you do fall for someone. Someone great and surprisingly none of the Wayne’s are hounding you with background checks, date stakeouts, or random texts asking if you need help bailing out on the date.

✧ You’re happy for a while but then you start getting suspicious because of the lack of Wayne activity. They’ve done it to all of your dates before, so why not now? 

✧ You start stalking your date every now and then, trying to catch him and see if he’s actually Dick in disguise. Or he’s someone Jason paid off to show you a good time. Or maybe it’s one of Tim and Damian’s alien friends. He could be Cass, too. You never know.

✧ In the end, your longest almost normal relationship ended because of your own paranoia. He broke up with you because of all the sleuthing and doubts.

✧ You were so devastated that you couldn’t bring yourself to walk into the manor. So you walk home and you text Bruce and Alfred that you can’t make it. It took you three hours to get back to your apartment and your feet are killing you. You slump over the couch and before you know it, you’ve been staring at the wall until past midnight.

✧ You hear a lot of whispers and scuffling from your fire escape. You groan when you hear them creak open your window. “Go away.”

✧ “We come in peace. We even brought Steph.”

✧ For every physical talent Cass and the boys possessed, god took back an essential social skill. Aside from you, Steph is their go-to empathy guru. “Oh, baby,” she watches you untangle yourself from the couch and hugs you tight. “Come here.” You bury your face in her shoulder and swallow back a sob. You can smell the gunpowder and smoke.

✧ “Did you have to come in your suits? You’re going to get Gotham on my carpet.”

✧ Jason bends down to look at you and gives you a proud grin and thumbs up. "Don't worry, Y/N. We made sure that guy regrets hurting you."

✧ You stare at Jason and you start snickering little by little until it turns into full-blown laughter. "He's Alfred's nephew!"

✧ "Shit--!” 

✧ “Dick, this is all your fault."

✧ "Woah hey-- It was your idea--Hey! Tim! Cass! Wait for me!"

✧ “Damian, you knew didn’t you!”

✧ “See you in hell, Todd.”

✧ You grin against Steph’s shoulder who’s giggling, “He wasn’t really, right?”

✧ “Nope. Now, they’ll race to see who can apologize to Alfred first.”

✧ “They’re going to dig their own graves!” 

✧ You sigh in satisfaction, "I feel better already."

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#waynesitter #batfam #batfamily #batfamily imagine #batfamily fanfiction #batfamily x reader #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction #batfam x reader #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU :)

Chapter 11 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here. 

Happiness Feels a Lot Like Sorrow

Present

Dean was doing his best to uphold his end of the scotch-induced bargain of Monday night. At the very least, he told himself, it would make the next week more bearable, with Cas lingering in his apartment at all hours.

He’d still been making himself busy. He spent twelve hours at the shop on both Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to catch up on the work he’d missed while he’d been out. Bobby had saddled him with the worst of the lot; Honda Odysseys and GMC Yukons that needed tire rotations or oil changes before enormous families made their Christmas treks. He’d started on Cas’s car, but hadn’t gotten much further than getting the old timing belt off.

By the end of his shift on Wednesday, he was exhausted. It felt good, though, being back in the shop, music accompanying him (at a decidedly lower volume than normal), his hands constantly occupied, mind numb from the easy work.

As he drove home from work, a sign in a shopping center caught his eye. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling into the parking lot of a local bookstore. He turned off the Impala’s engine and walked into the store, not entirely sure what he was looking for.

It was by impulse, really, that he picked up a copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a special edition, with extra content bound up at the end. He remembered Cas saying something about that book once. It seemed like a reasonable gift.

Dean almost put the book back on the shelf three separate times before forcing himself to the checkout counter. He paid for the book in a hurry, tossing it into the back seat when he reached the car. Stupid, he thought to himself. He wasn’t even one-hundred-percent sure that Cas still liked that book. He supposed, if he chickened out, he could just give it to Sam, instead.

When Dean arrived at the apartment, Sam announced that he was picking up Taco Bell for dinner. Dean and Cas replied “crunchwrap” at the same time when Sam asked them what they wanted. He raised his eyebrows and the synchronicity, but didn’t say anything, just made a note in his phone. Cas went bright red. Dean stared resolutely at the ground.

Cas was sitting in the armchair with a book as Dean sunk into the couch, exhausted from two long days in a row. The history channel on. Dean wrinkled his nose and punched in the numbers for the Food Network.

“You watch the history channel? By choice?” Dean asked, feigning disgust.

Cas smirked as he closed his book. “I wasn’t really watching it,” he said, “But on occasion, I do like to listen to the conspiracy theorists on Ancient Aliens.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s what you and Sam do all day? Nerd out over crazy historians?”

“Mostly,” Cas said sarcastically. Dean snorted.

“You sure you don’t want Sam or I to drive you home for Christmas?” Dean said. He’d made the offer the day before, but Cas had refused.

Cas sighed. “I’m sure. I appreciate the gesture, but Christmas with my family is the last disaster I want to saddle with myself after…” He waved his hand generally.

Dean nodded. “You still talk to any of ‘em? Your family.”

“Occasionally,” Cas said. “My father called yesterday to ask your same question. I suspect he suddenly feels quite guilty about his treatment of me, considering accountants make quite a bit more than small-town preachers.”

“He’s worried about his retirement fund?”

“Most likely. I do still talk to Anna, though, on a regular basis.”

Dean felt a memory pull at his brain. “She’s the, uh, the therapist, right?”

Cas smiled to himself. “Indeed.”

“I’m assuming you’re spending Christmas at Bobby’s?” Cas asked after a beat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “The usual thing. It’s always a good time.”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips. “I’m glad.”

Dean drummed his fingers against the side of the couch. “You know,” he started, and he was already regretting it, “Sam wants you to come. To Bobby’s. For Christmas.” He cringed. The words sounded lame, like he’d made the whole thing up.

“He does?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, but I told him it’d probably be weird, you know,” Dean said with a shrug. “Big crowds aren’t your thing, and all.”

Cas eyed him. “Why didn’t he ask me himself?” He wondered. “We spend a lot of time together.”

Dean stared at the TV. “I dunno, that’s on him.”

Dean could still feel Cas’s eyes on him. “Is this your way of inviting me to spend Christmas with you?” He asked.

Dean nearly fell off the couch. “What? No,” he rushed out. “I mean, it’s not… Not with me. With everyone. I dunno, if you’re gonna be here anyway…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, Christmas alone is kinda shitty. Especially in this shithole,” he added as he gestured at his apartment. “You can come if you want,” he said finally. “Everyone would probably be happy to see you.”

Cas was staring at him, staring through him, like he always did. Dean turned his attention back to the cooking show playing on the television.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“Nothing,” Cas said, tilting his head. “Déjà vu.”

Dean’s chest tightened at that. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “What d’ya say?”

“Okay,” Cas said eventually. “I’ll come, unless that would make you uncomfortable.”

Dean’s head snapped up. After everything, he hadn’t really expected Cas to say yes. “Uh, no, man, like I said on Monday. New start.”

“Right,” Cas said slowly. “And you don’t think we should talk about why we need a ‘new start’, as you say?”

Dean glowered at the TV. “Nope,” he said. Did he always have to make everything difficult? It had been three years, and Dean truly wanted nothing more than to forget about all of it. He didn’t want closure, he didn’t need closure. Neither of them did, seeing as Cas would go back to his glamorous life in less than a week, anyway.

He could feel Cas’s eyes on the back of his head, but he ignored them. “If that’s what you want,” Cas said, his voice resigned.

Dean sat up, then, finally facing Cas. “Don’t you?” He asked, unsure if that was a question he was ready to hear answered.

“I suppose, in a way,” Cas said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

It was Cas, now, who looked away. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “Nothing important, anyway.”

Dean wanted to pry, but knew he would be a hypocrite if he did. He got up and moved to the kitchen for a glass of water. He brought a second one to the living room for Cas, who uttered his thanks.

“You ever finish that thing you were working on in college?” Dean asked.

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were on a clean slate. ‘Forgetting about everything.’”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, that doesn’t count.”

Cas took a sip of his water. “If you’re referring to the pages that are sitting in your bedroom at the moment —” Dean winced “— then no.”

Dean shot him a confused look. “Why not?”

“I… Lost the inspiration,” Cas said carefully.

“Oh.”

Cas regarded him thoughtfully. “You ask me a lot of questions,” he said. “Am I allowed to do the same?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Dean grumbled.

Cas gave him a sideways grin. “I mean, will you become willfully taciturn if I ask you questions about yourself?”

Dean was ruffled at being called out so bluntly. “No promises,” he muttered.

“What has your life looked like the past three years?”

Dean wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Not real interesting,” he said. “Working for Bobby during the days, bartending at nights. Saving up money for Sam’s college. Living here.” He shrugged. “Pretty normal, I guess.”

“Do you still bartend?” Cas asked.

“Nah, I quit that when Sam got his scholarship,” Dean replied. “I make enough at the shop to cover what that money won’t.”

Cas smiled. “That’s quite impressive.”

“I’m just a mechanic.”

“I meant paying for Sam’s college.”

Dean felt heat crawl up his neck. “Not a big deal,” he said.

“I would have thought you were on your way to settling down,” Cas said slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “But that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“No,” Dean said, and this conversation was getting dangerously close to acknowledgement of their history. Dean didn’t dare look at Cas. The fact that he thought, after everything, that Dean would be anywhere close to “in a relationship” was downright comical.

Dean, too, chose his words carefully. “I could say the same about you,” he said. “Unless there’s some guy waiting for you in KC,” he added, realizing he couldn’t possibly know otherwise. “Which, if there is, he’s kind of a dick for not —”

“There’s not,” Cas interrupted.

And that was surprising.

Dean hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he had fully expected Cas to be halfway down the road to marriage by now. The fact that he wasn’t erupted feelings that Dean wasn’t entirely ready to face.

“How’s the eye?” He asked, changing the subject.

Cas put three fingers up to the bruise, which was looking less black and more like splotches of blue and green. “Better,” he said decidedly.

“Good,” Dean replied.

They stopped talking, each turning their attention to the program playing on the TV. Dean had a brief moment of disassociation, watching the scene from somewhere beyond himself. It was strange, he thought, to be sitting in his living room with Castiel Novak, two twenty-somethings living vastly different versions of the same life. Inexplicably, he felt the same thing he’d felt when he was eighteen, lying in the dark, talking to Cas across the room. He felt known, he felt seen, like each and every part of him was open for voyeuristic display. It was nothing Cas had said, nothing he had done, it was just him. The way he pushed and pushed against Dean’s shoddy walls while somehow managing to meet him in the middle, every time.

Dean was grateful for the distraction of food when Sam returned. Dean was quiet during dinner, finding comfort in an observatory role. He wondered at Sam and Cas’s closeness, after only a few days spent holed up together. He rolled his eyes when the two of them began communicating in sign language, because of course Cas knew sign language. When Cas’s eyes flicked to Dean after Sam signed something, and the two of them laughed, Dean huffed and gathered the trash to take it out.

It was a frigid night, his breath visible in the low gleam of the floodlights. He tossed the bag over the side of the dumpster and paused. He dug in his pocket, and, finding both his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lit one up and leaned against the dumpster.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stood there, taking long drags until the end of the cigarette burned his fingers, and then just standing, staring into the parking lot.

“Dean?” A gruff voice called, and he turned to find Cas standing across from him, a tan trench coat thrown haphazardly over his black t-shirt and jeans. He cocked an eyebrow at Dean. “What are you doing?”

Dean dug the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket in answer. “Smoke,” he said.

Cas gave a short nod and made his way over to the dumpster. He leaned against it, next to Dean, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his coat. Dean gave him a sidelong glance, but Cas was looking straight ahead, deep in thought.

“You and Sam seem to be getting along,” Dean said, his voice gruff.

“Your brother is extraordinarily kind,” Cas said in reply, not bothering to look at Dean. “He talks about you often,” he added.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well,” he said, but didn’t complete the thought. He hadn’t bothered to throw on a jacket, and he shivered as the wind blew straight through his thin flannel. Cas was standing close, their elbows almost touching, and Dean could have been eighteen again. He could feel it, somewhere deep in his stomach, that same bundle of nerves and excitement that had always come when Cas was just a little too close. He almost shut his eyes against the strength of it, but he willed it away, looking at Cas instead.

Cas still wore that intent expression on his face as he stared off into the distance. “Hey,” Dean said, elbowing him in the arm. “You creating world peace over there or something?”

The ghost of a smile. “No,” Cas said. “I’m just thinking.”

That was vague. Dean raised an eyebrow. “’Bout what?”

Cas side-eyed him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made a motion with his hand that said, go on.

“It’s just strange,” Cas started, wrapping the coat tighter around himself, “That I should end up stranded here, in Lawrence, of all places.”

Dean resisted the urge to pull out another cigarette before continuing this conversation. “I guess,” he said.

“Stranger still that your shop should be the one closest to me at the time.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda weird,” he said. “I never expected… Well, that’s why I hit my head, anyway.”

Cas whipped his head around to look at Dean in confusion. “What?”

And, yeah, this was embarrassing, but Dean couldn’t exactly stop now. He rubbed the back of his neck. “When I heard you talking to Bobby,” he explained, “I just kinda… Well, I was pretty friggin’ shocked to hear you, of all people.”

Cas stared at him. “Oh,” was all he said.

“So thanks for this,” Dean said, aiming for levity as he pointed to the soon-to-be scar on his forehead. He smirked.

Cas faced forward again. “I didn’t mean to shock you,” he said. “Actually, I had no idea it was you under that truck.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What, even after you talked to Bobby, you didn’t figure it out?”

Cas shrugged. “The life I always pictured you might be living was very different than the one you live.”

Dean immediately felt defensive. “Okay, asshole, my life is —”

“I didn’t say ‘better’,” Cas interrupted. “Just different.”

That shut Dean up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway, “What did you picture? For me?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Nothing very specific. I suppose a girlfriend, a good job, doing something you like, in a place that you liked. You used to speak so fondly of Texas, I thought maybe you’d moved there. You told me, once, that you had thought about engineering. I usually pictured you like that, an office job. A stable life.”

Dean was watching Cas paint that picture. An office job, coming home to some faceless girl and planning his life around the possibility of an okay-marriage and two-and-a-half kids, waking up at forty and wondering what exact point in his life had lead him down this road. It looked wildly unsatisfying from where he stood.

He just made a grunt of understanding. “Well, you were way off, pal,” he said.

Another small smile, like it had almost been contained. “Apparently,” Cas said.

“You know,” Dean said, uncomfortable with the attention placed on him, “You didn’t turn out how I thought either.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well after… You know, I read that thing you wrote. And it was good, Cas, it was damn good.” Something lodged itself uncomfortably in the back of his throat as he recalled the nights he spent wondering where Cas had been, what he’d been doing. He coughed. “I guess I just expected that, by now, you’d have published it. Made a shit-ton of money and bought a douchebag-sized house in, like, Ohio, or something.”

“You make it sound like it’s disappointing that that isn’t the case,” Cas said, and, though he was giving Dean a smirk, his eyes looked sad. Dean felt a pang in his chest at having caused unintentional pain.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Not… I dunno, I guess… I thought that writing stuff made you happy. And…” And you deserve to be happy, even without me. Dean had the words, they were right there, but he couldn’t say them, couldn’t take that first step in bridging the now-unacknowledged divide between them. “Well, it’s not like I pictured you depressed or anything,” he said instead.

Cas turned to look at him. “Are you happy, Dean?”

The gravity of the question, the look in Cas’s eyes, curious and almost pleading, sucked the air right out of Dean’s lungs. And there was something screaming at the back of his brain, that no, he wasn’t, that he hadn’t been, that he could never be, because the one key ingredient to that happiness was —

“Yeah,” Dean replied in a small voice. “I guess so.”

Cas stared at him for a moment longer, still searching, before dropping his head and turning away.

“Are you?” Dean asked, almost defiantly, as if the question had been a test that now he was forcing Cas to take.

“I’m very fortunate,” Cas said carefully. “If I am unhappy, it is of my own doing.”

And that totally wasn’t an answer, but Dean let it slide. It was cold, and his back hurt, and he was tired from a long day at work. Silently, he pushed off the dumpster and began to make his way back to the apartment. Cas joined him, settling into a comfortable gait by his side. The air was languid between them, like it was too heavy to move.

Dean let both of them back inside and Cas excused himself to take a shower. Sam was watching something on TV and raised his eyebrows at Dean’s re-entrance. Dean just ignored him, settling onto the couch, thinking about fate and happiness and whether or not the two might be connected.

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

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@nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers @fortiusnitius 

#supernatural #deancas #destiel #destiel fic

[the-irish-mayhem]

This is a series of short, unrelated vignettes/oneshots that was supposed to be posted for Fosterson Week a year or two ago and I finally got around to finishing it. Enjoy!

5 Universes In Which Jane Is Worthy and 1 Where She Isn’t

Read on AO3

1.

On the top ten list of bad ideas she’s ever had, this is so, so, so bad the number one spot doesn’t even seem adequate. The guy who thought he was Thor clearly got caught trying to get her stuff back, and so she is  so  screwed unless she goes in herself. God, why did she go along with this again? He’d claimed he’d fly out once he got what he was looking for (which,  god , again, why had she kind of believed him?)

Her feet crunch quietly against the hard-packed sand leading to the hole in the plastic tarping making up the walls of the facility that Thor had kicked a guy through, and she, without nearly as much hesitation as she should probably feel, hops in.

The place isn’t huge, and it doesn’t take long for Jane to find the main room.

Thor had helpfully drawn nearly everyone in security away from where her equipment is stowed, next to a… hammer in the dirt. Literally, they built this entire site around a hammer? What the  hell , archaeologists never get this much funding and government attention. And what does her equipment have to do with it?

Jane shakes herself. She has a lot more important things to do instead of trying to puzzle out the weird and wild workings of shady government agencies. Things like capitalizing on their inattentiveness and getting her gear back.

She grabs her notebook first, stuffing it into her back pocket, and then trying to figure out how she’s going to cart out at least two hundred or so pounds of equipment.

“Hey!”

Jane nearly leaps out of her skin and turns, seeing a pair of security guards sprinting towards her from one of the halls.

“Shit,” she spits, and frantically looks around at her equipment. Lightest and hardest to replace… Radio spectrometer retrofitted for wormholes. Yep, that one. She scoops it up in her arms and takes off.

Even running as quickly as she can, the guards are still within arm’s length of her before she’s taken five steps.

Oh, they are not taking her work. Absolutely not. Erik isn’t here to hold her back this time.

She reaches an arm out, barely managing to hold onto her spectrometer as she grasps the handle of the hammer. Old or valuable, the thing is still a hammer, she can still swing at them with it.

A crack of thunder. A blinding flash of light. The feeling of grabbing a live-wire running through her body for a handful of terrifying seconds until the euphoria comes.

If she be worthy , she hears.

May she possess the power of Thor.

Oh, Jane thinks.

Oh,  fuck .

 2.

“No, I don’t know what… That’s why I’m coming out here to… Look, all the issues with our readings at the site are originating from this one spot, so yeah, I’m going to go take a look,” Jane says into the phone.

“Who is it?” Darcy whispers. Their truck rumbles along a remote road in Norway leading to the coast, and the interference from their mystery site makes it so they don’t get any radio stations, so Darcy is starved for entertainment.

Jane covers the mouthpiece and whispers back, “Caplan. He’s--” she uncovers the mouthpiece. “No, there’s not any danger. You--no… No… Wait, but that time wasn’t actually my fault, so…”

“Being a dick again?”

Jane’s eyeroll is all the answer required. “Look, we’ll be ba-- in--” Jane makes an almost comical crackling noise in the back of her throat. “Wha-- interference from the-- thr-- breaking up--bye.” She hangs up without any further discussion.

Darcy contains a laugh. “You’re gonna pay for that later, you know.”

Jane rolls her eyes again. “Well, it’s my being at his facility that’s even getting him funding in the first place, so, you know.” She shrugs. “If he wants to fight me, I’m the one with more published papers and theories that changed the laws of physics.”

Darcy pumps a fist. “Fuck yeah.”

She waves a hand. “He’ll be fine. He’s pissed we took the Mule without asking.” Where they plan on going, there’s no vehicle access, so the ATV was their only recourse. “If he thinks I’ll be satisfied with this one spot fucking up my results over and over again, he’s got another thing coming. Speaking of which,” the device that rests in Jane’s lap begins to ping, “pull over here.”

“Woo, off-road time,” Darcy cheers, and follows Jane’s instructions.

Another hour of driving in the Mule later, they reach the geographic nexus that’s been screwing with their readings.

It’s a pretty spot, bright green grass running all the way to the edge of the cliff, where a sheer drop would land them in the ocean. Norway’s fjords are always breathtaking, and Darcy counts herself lucky yet again that she gets to visit places like this and get paid for it. All in all, a pretty rad job.

“Can you set up--”

“Magnetic perimeter and radiation scanners?” Darcy finishes. “Yeah.”

Darcy unloads the equipment from the back of the ATV as Jane approaches the nexus.

It looks like a storm is beginning to swirl overhead, and Darcy eyes it nervously. Without any cover, they are pretty much sitting ducks if any rain starts to fall, god forbid if lightning starts. Where the hell did all these thunderheads come from? This blew in awfully fast.

Jane crouches down and reaches for something on the ground. “Darcy, you should come look at this,” she calls out. 

Quite suddenly, the hair on the back of Darcy’s neck stands straight up. The sensation is so strong and sudden that it literally causes her to gasp in shock.

“Jane--” she starts but she doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Faster than the blink of an eye, a massive bolt of lightning tears from the sky, slicing straight down to where Jane kneels.

Darcy barely has time to scream.

She is thrown backwards by the force of the lightning strike, and she thinks she hears a voice whisper before she hits the ground behind her.

If she be worthy.

When she looks up again, she knows she hears it.

A strange woman stands where Jane once was--massive, tall, blonde, with impressive armor and Mjolnir in her fist.

May she possess the power of Thor.

 3.

Fragile isn’t a word that could ever have been used to describe Jane Foster, but with her cheekbones hollowed out by weight loss, neck and wrists gone skinny and tendons standing out against her skin in sharp relief, fragile almost seems generous. A plastic band wraps around her wrist, stamped with her name, attending physician, allergies, and a barcode encoded with all her patient information.

She is tired, often, but with Darcy’s help still manages to go through her research and rough out an outline for her next paper she plans to publish.

Jane likes to plan, likes to say things like there’s a conference next September that this paper will do really well at, and Jane knows that Darcy is trying to hide her heartbreak at these statements. Darcy used to not hide anything from her, used to barely have the capacity, let alone the desire, but it’s strange the effect dying can have.

Her hospital room is outfitted with several whiteboards scribbled over with notes and formulae, the answers Jane constantly seeks waiting to be pried out of the clutches of the equations she can spend hours puzzling over. It’s a good use of her time, when she’s not--

Elsewhere.

Jane is careful to hide the hammer. It’s her secret legacy, her last hurrah, her hidden responsibility and duty--

Mjolnir is many things to her, but burdensome is certainly not one of them.

She swings her legs over the side of her bed, gripping her IV pole to help her stand. She walks over to the window, where the sunlight of the early afternoon has been shrouded over by storm clouds. She slides open her window, the cool wind of the storm washing over her face.

In the distance, she hears the rumble of thunder.

Jane Foster smiles.

 4.

His axe is buried in Thanos’s chest, and there’s a blinding moment of what feels like sour vengeance--so many have died already, and now the Mad Titan will perish for his crimes.

He presses the blade of Stormbreaker in further, for Loki, for Heimdall, for every one of his slaughtered people.

Then Thanos whispers, “You should’ve gone for the head.”

And he feels his heart drop.

And then, and suddenly as Thor himself had dropped from the sky, another streak of lightning blazes in from the east, and Thor can feel it--  Mjolnir .

But how?

He can’t even tell who is wielding it until the hammer smashes Thanos’s skull in, and the Mad Titan is finally felled. The Infinity Gauntlet drops, the stones unused, the universe saved.

The woman holding Mjolnir is tall, with shining armor that looks well-crafted, including a helmet that hides the upper half of her face. In spite of that, he can see her eyes.

Eyes he would know anywhere in the galaxy.

She looks almost as stunned as he is.

“Jane?”

 5.

The cell phone footage is grainy and difficult to make out. Shot by a civilian in Garching, Germany, the shaky video peeks at the action from behind a brick wall. A voice out of frame whispers,  “Dude, I think it’s Thor!”  and is quickly hushed by the one holding the camera.  So at least two more witnesses to track down,  Natasha thinks tiredly.

The observation, though, is rather striking in its accuracy. The figure has a red cape and flowing blonde hair, and displays a command of lightning that Natasha hasn’t seen since Thor more-or-less retired after their last showdown with Thanos.

The opponents are a small gaggle of aliens, impossible to fully make out but probably more scavengers who’d come to pick the bones of Thanos’s last battlefield. In the two years since the Snap, they’d been getting a steadier stream of extraterrestrial threats looking to take advantage of Earth’s vulnerability.

“How is it that we have holographic video technology widely available, but every civilian who has useful intel has a Nokia from 2004?” Natasha grumbles, squinting and trying again in vain to enhance the footage.

From her place next to her, Okoye chuckles. “I think we’ve demonstrated that we have the worst luck imaginable,” she jokes darkly.

The figure is still hard to make out aside from the gaudy cape and lightning. The electricity in the air made the audio on the video spotty at best, mostly static and a few loud bursts of accurate recordings of a fight, but mostly useless. Then a few video frames give them a clear view of the front of the figure.

“Pause,” Natasha says, sitting forward in her chair. “Go back three frames?” The computer obeys her voice command, ticking back to the moment when they had the best view.

Both Okoye and Natasha freeze as they take in the image.

There’s a shard of disappointment that goes through Natasha when she realizes, once and for all, that it definitely isn’t Thor. That disappointment turns swiftly into suspicion because she does not know this person, and they certainly have powers that would’ve landed them at the top of a SHIELD watchlist back in the day.

It’s a woman. She’s massive, arms and legs thick with muscle, and extensive armor that could be Asgardian make, but with the graininess of the video, it’s hard to tell. Her helmet covers almost her entire face, only exposing her mouth and jaw. Some sort of chainmail on her legs, perhaps, and a sleeve on her left arm. Her right arm is bare, and clutched in that hand--

“Mjolnir,” Natasha breathes.

“I thought it was destroyed,” Okoye says.

Natasha nods. “We all did.”

Despite the video quality, there’s no mistaking that hammer. Especially when Natasha resumes the video and the mysterious woman throws the hammer, and it returns to her hand moments later.

“We haven’t seen any new powered people since the Snap,” Okoye says, breaking the silence. “With our…  situation  being what it is,” she continues, tactfully calling the mess they’d made of the world a  situation , “we should either ascertain if this woman is on our side, get her on our side, or terminate her as soon as possible.”

Natasha nods in quiet contemplation. They cannot afford to have a powered person running around the world unchecked, not with the way things are. They’re barely managing to hold it together as it is, and the Avengers are spread extremely thin. Not to mention their help is often rejected in an official capacity, a lionshare of the blame for what happened falling to the World’s Greatest Heroes who failed to save the world. It’s a PR nightmare, and there are many nights when Natasha wishes that she’d just been dusted along with the half of the world who didn’t make it.

But she didn’t. She’s still here, and someone needs to lead.

“Want me to track down Thor and ask him about her?” Okoye says. “Based on her strength from that video, she’s probably Asgardian.”

Natasha’s kneejerk reaction is to say no, that Thor can’t handle this, that he’s been in an almost constant state of inebriation and/or depression for the last two years and she won’t expose her friend to something that might be painful for him. Then her rational mind kicks in and she nods at Okoye. Thor is their best lead. “I’ll come with you.” (Then her vicious mind raises its hackles and says if she’s got to wade into the shit that is the post-Snap world, then Thor should have to get right into it with her.)

That night, the evening news features a story with the grainy footage Natasha could’ve sworn she’d managed to scrub from everywhere (but alas, she is no Vision.) The ticker at the bottom of the screen reads The New Thor: Who is she, and can we trust her?

***

They find him at a hightop table in a hole-in-the-wall bar in New Asgard, and if Natasha had been serving him, she probably would’ve cut him off at least four drinks ago, but the bartender doesn’t seem concerned with denying their monarch his alcoholic solace.

“Do I need to go get Brunnhilde?” Okoye whispers to Natasha.

Thor sways in his barstool, hands clasped around a large stein of beer, but seems coherent enough to answer their questions.

“Not yet.”

“Wha--?” Thor mumbles, eyes half-lidded. “What’re you saying?” His words are disturbingly slurred. Maybe getting Brunnhilde wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Natasha refocuses. “Have you watched the news recently?”

Thor snorts and takes a drink of beer. And doesn’t stop taking a drink of beer until the stein is half-empty. Natasha’s eyes widen when he lets out a loud belch.

“Apologies,” he says, not sounding apologetic, “but you’ll have to excuse me for not keeping up with current events.”

Okoye cuts in, “How about this current event?

She slides a set of photos out of a manila envelope, laying them down on the bar table. The paper sticks to the surface of the table.

Thor shakes his head once, as if trying to rein in the spinning the room is likely doing around him. He leans down and squints at the photos. “That--” He cocks his head. “That isn’t me.”

“No,” Okoye confirms. “It isn’t.”

“These photos were taken two days ago in Garching, Germany. Know of any Asgardians who settled there?”

Thor swallows, and doesn’t immediately answer. He raises his free hand not on his beer to the photos, and the tip of his middle finger drags over where Mjolnir is inked onto the paper. “I thought it was gone,” he mumbles.

“So did we,” Natasha says, tempted to reach out to him at the abject sadness in his voice.

Okoye slants a glance at Natasha.  Focus , she seems to say with her eyes, before redirecting Thor, “Are there any Asgardians in Germany?”

“A few,” he says. “None that look like this woman.” He looks up at them. “Do you know how she found Mjolnir?”

It’s his most coherent question yet. Natasha shakes her head. “We just found out about her. She looks pretty confident with it, so maybe she’s been training somewhere.”

“I don’t underst--” Thor loses his battle with his balance and gravity and falls off his barstool. Natasha and Okoye both reach out to steady him, but he manages to catch himself before he hits the floor.

Natasha goes to Thor’s side, her heart falling quickly as she puts an arm around him. It’s hard to see Thor like this, especially knowing the kind of man he used to be. (Of all the people she thought would stick with her, after Clint and Steve left, she thought that Thor would be the one to stay. He’d fought through so much heartache, sided with them in New York against his own brother, protected the Earth from the Dark Elves after his mother’s murder, faced down Thanos even after his planet had been destroyed, and yet he’d always been ready to fight. It’s downright unnatural, utterly tragic to see him laid so low.)

Turning to Okoye, Natasha says, “Go get Brunnhilde.” Okoye doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Thor,” Natasha prompts, getting the man to look at her. His eyes look pained. She’s sure hers must reflect his. “You’ve gotta stop this.”

“Stop what?” he mumbles.

“You know what.” She hesitates before offering, “You could come back, you know. Join the Avengers again. I really could use the help, and you’ve got more experience leading than everyone else on the team combined.”

He’s already shaking his head. “No.” Clear, concise, and completely at odds with his drunkenness. “No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

His answering smile is sad. “I have nothing left to offer you.”

“Yes, you do,” Natasha answers softly, but based on his tone, this isn’t an argument she’s going to win. Not today, at least.

A beat passes. “You really didn’t know about Mjolnir?” she asks, one more time.

“I’m not worthy anymore,” he whispers. “Why would it call to me?”

Natasha doesn’t answer that. There’s a lot of layers there that she doesn’t think she’ll ever fully understand.

Okoye returns with Brunnhilde at her side. She says to Okoye, “You know, sometime you’re going to have to visit me when it’s not for the purposes of picking his sorry ass up off the floor.”

Okoye chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brunnhilde proceeds to pick Thor up in a bridal carry, making Natasha stumble a bit when his weight is no longer against her. “Come on, your majesty,” she says, tone almost bored. “Let’s get you home.”

Natasha bites her tongue against all the questions she wants to ask.

How often do you do this for him?

How is everyone around here blind to what’s happening to him?

Where on earth is he getting enough alcohol to regularly get drunk?

Before she can even think of pursuing another line of questioning, she gets a call from Carol--she is needed urgently back at headquarters.

She sighs. The hunt for the new Thor will have to wait for now.

***

It’s only once Natasha and Okoye are on a quinjet and flying back to their base that Brunnhilde unceremoniously drops Thor on the ground.

He huffs, but quickly stands up and brushes himself off, perfectly sober. “Unnecessary.”

She glares at him. “How long are you going to keep this act up?” she demands. “Those are your  friends .”

“Natasha is a friend,” Thor corrects, “Okoye thinks I’m a worthless drunk.”

Brunnhilde rolls her eyes. “Because she’s never known you as anything else.”

He grits his teeth. “It’s for the best.”

“That’s what you keep telling yourself, but they  know  about her. What’s your act doing to keep her safe now?”

The muscle in Thor’s jaw works furiously, but he calmly answers, “They don’t know her identity. They think she’s a rogue Asgardian.”

Brunnhilde bristles and brusquely pulls a folded manila envelope out of her back pocket. “Okoye gave these to me, said to ask you about them again when you sobered up.” She quickly opens the envelope and tears its contents out and holds them right in his face. The edges of the photo paper crease under the force of her fingers clenching down on them. “You see this? The better she gets, the more this is going to happen. And you know what’s eventually going to happen?” She jerks her head backwards. “Your friends are going to find her. She’s on a crash course, and then she will be a part of this. You can’t stop that. It was a fantasy to think you ever could.”

“I didn’t think I could keep her from it forever,” Thor replies evenly, and he wraps his fingers around Brunnhilde’s wrist and lowers the photos from his face so he can look her in the eye.

“Then  why ?” she asks.

“Because she needs to be better than me,” he says, like a release of steam from a pot. “She needs to be better, and she’s not yet.”

Brunnhilde shakes her head. “I don’t know if you’re going to get a choice for much longer.

   and the one time…

“Jane.”

His shoulder jumps under her head.

“Hm?”

“We’re almost there.”

“Oh,” she says groggily, and pushes herself off Thor’s shoulder. “Oops,” she says when she notices the spot of drool on his shirt. “Sorry.” The weird half-sleep that comes along with car rides is slow to depart, clawing at her eyelids until she reaches to her right, where a bottle of water sits.

After she downs half the bottle and truly wakes up, he gives her a soft smile, one that says he probably wasn’t far behind her in terms of falling asleep. “It’s no matter. I thought you’d want to be awake before we arrived.”

She stretches her hands over her head as much as the towncar’s roof allows, and a series of satisfying pops go down her spine. She grunts in satisfaction before saying, “I need to go over my speech one more time.”

“I’m fairly certain  I  could give it at this point with how many times I’ve heard it.”

“You’re a good person to practice with!”

“I’m only teasing,” he says. “And besides, this is hardly your first time doing this.”

“This still feels bigger, somehow.” 

He makes a soft sound of agreement. Jane offers the water to him, which he accepts and drinks his fill before capping it and setting it aside.

Jane continues, “It’s one thing to get, you know, a big science award. Like, the last time I got the Nobel I felt almost old hat at it, you know?”

Thor gives her a look. “I recall you saying that you felt like you were going to throw up before you went onstage to give your speech.”

Jane flaps her hand at him. “Okay, sure I was nervous, but I was….used to the shape of it? This is a completely different type of thing.”

“Yes, excelling at heroics is something you usually leave to me.”

“Hey, I have plenty of behind the scenes heroics!”

“Of course, dear,” he says with a laugh, “but none of those behind the scenes heroics resulted in a singlehanded defeat of the Infinity Stones, handicapping Thanos’s plan, and saving untold lives.”

Jane tilts her head back onto the headrest, a smile spreading across her face. That day, that last fight that Strange predicted would end in only one way, would be permanently emblazoned in her memory as long as she lived. Thor had asked her to stay away from the battlefield, and initially, she’d agreed. She and Tony had been theorizing about the nature of the stones, and they hadn’t had time to parse out the quantum entanglement theories together before her thinking buddy had to jet off to try and save the universe.

It came to her like a lightning strike only minutes after the team had left for the last battle. She’d built a frequency jammer that would disrupt the quantum entanglement of the stones in thirty minutes flat, and then raced out of the Avengers compound like a bat out of hell. She’d just have to get within range of the stones, and they’d be rendered inert, their effects immediately reversed, and they’d just be ordinary stones, and then they could be destroyed.

And, incredibly, even though the science of it was shaky at best, and she’d had to improvise on the fly when some of the wiring on the jammer had shorted out, it worked.

The army from the past was gone, snapped back to their original chronological configuration; Natasha and Gamora were spat out of whatever pocket universe they’d been trapped in; and Tony hadn’t had to use his gauntlet, hadn’t had to sacrifice himself for the universe as she’d  known  he’d planned on.

(Dr. Strange had sputtered, shocked, saying that of the fourteen million six hundred and five futures he’d seen, he’d only seen one possible outcome where they won, and it wasn’t this.

Jane shrugged, breathless, dirty, bloody, and grinned. “I found number fourteen million six hundred and  six .”)

“And all without a single power to her name aside from her intellect,” he finishes.

“I am pretty cool.”

“Both pretty and cool, much agreed.”

She lets her head fall to the side so she can look at him. His beard is long enough to be braided, and he’d done so this morning, and he’d taken care to braid some of his hair as well before pulling it back with a tie. He looked good. Great. Amazing, even.

She reached out her hand closest to him, trailing a finger along one of the braids in his beard. A streetlight from outside catches on her wedding ring just so.

After the Snap, she and Thor had drifted back together, partially out of shared grief and guilt, but had ultimately rediscovered why they’d worked together for years before the distance had become too much strain. They’d officially tied the knot a few years after Tony and Pepper had. (Steve had been Thor’s best man, and Darcy Jane’s maid of honor. Tony walked Jane down the aisle in Jane’s mother’s absence. Morgan had been their flower girl.) 

She wonders if any of this would’ve happened if they hadn’t found each other again. If they hadn’t rekindled their love for each other in the horrible aftermath of the Snap, would she have been around to help? Would Tony have reached out to her with the time travel issue? Would he have invited her to collaborate on the quantum entanglement of the stones if she hadn’t re-integrated herself into the Avengers circle? She likes to think so--they were friends, at least somewhat, before the Snap (but their closeness now was only formed in those last five years of wounded peace.)

“What are you thinking about?” Thor asks, and mirrors her position so he can look at her.

“Just that I’m really glad I married you.” She nudges forward so she can kiss him. “Really, really glad.”

“I’m glad you married me, too,” he answers. “Not many women would have had the fortitude to put up with me for as long as you have.”

She grabs his hand and pulls it over to her lap. “How many people did Pepper say were going to be here?”

Thor shrugs. “Less than two thousand, but there is the webcast as well.”

“ God .”

He squeezes her hand. “Go through your speech once more. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’d feel better if we could skip past the ceremony and go right to the drinking and partying portion of the evening.”

Thor laughed. “If only I were planning the evening, Jane Foster. Now start from the top.”

Jane laughs, and closes her eyes. With her husband’s hand in hers, his warmth a steady reassurance at her side, she recalls the words she’s memorized and feels her nervousness retreat as she begins to speak.

#fosterson #jane foster #thor #fosterson fic #my fic

[supermanshield]

A Weekend in Smallville

Summary: Amid a town coming together in the aftermath of an alien invasion, Bruce meets Lana, learns a little bit more about Clark, and reflects on his place in Clark’s life and rural Kansas.

Or: Bruce in Smallville. Goes about as well as you'd expect.

Words: 7,217

Rating: Teen and up for like one swear word and mentions of sex.

Read on AO3 or continue reading here!

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Dinner had been put away and Bruce had once again taken his place at the table, papers and laptop laid out in front of him. Various people from town, and eventually some Leaguers (and shouldn’t that raise some suspicion? No one paid attention here) had been walking in and out all day to get a bite to eat. The old wooden floorboards were littered with dusty footsteps, but Martha Kent was on the couch, too exhausted from providing for everyone all day long. Jonathan wasn’t much better off after driving around town and helping his neighbors. Bruce would sweep up the dust for them when he was done working and before he flew back for the night.

“We’ve rebuilt what we can right now, with the available materials. It’s not much, but at least people will be able to sleep in their own home right now.” He must be tired too if Clark could sneak up on him like that.

“It’s something,” he sighed. “I’ve been on the phone with contractors all day to procure the necessary materials and workforce. The more elaborate structures might be repaired within the month.”

Clark grabbed a glass of water and slumped down in the chair across from Bruce. Even he seemed tired, which should be impossible, but seeing your hometown in shambles and its people in distress all day will do that. Even to Superman.

“Rest of the League?” Bruce asked.

“Barry and Hal helped all day. They went back home just now. J’onn went back to the watchtower and Diana had other matters to attend to.”

Bruce nodded. It was time he got back to Gotham as well. With a bit of luck, he could charter a jet to fly back tonight and still get a couple hours of patrol in. He told Clark as much and started putting away his papers, but Clark grabbed his hand when he went to close the laptop.  “Bruce, wait… It’s Friday, why don’t you stay the weekend?”

A weekend in Kansas, with nothing to do but help at the farm… While he loved the Kents, that wasn’t Bruce’s idea of a productive time. They still had to figure out what had led the aliens to Smallville of all places, and what they wanted. No, he could be of much more use elsewhere.

Before Bruce could reply though, Jonathan shot over his shoulder from where he was sitting in the living room, “We got that queen size bed for your room, Clark,” and Martha added, “You’re more than welcome to stay, Bruce dear.”

Great. Clark looked at him expectantly, still holding his hand. “It’ll be fun. And wouldn’t it be easier to start investigating here what those aliens wanted?” Clark knew exactly what to say to keep him around. He had other obligations, though.

“You know I can’t.”

“Aww, come on, Dick and Tim can watch over Gotham. And they’ll have backup from Cass, the Birds of Prey…” Clark’s voice faded, his eyes drifting down. “And you have to let those ribs heal properly. Finally.”

Something in Clark’s voice said he would just keep Bruce here if he threatened to fly back tonight. Bruce sighed. The only appealing thing about the queen size bed was the fact that he and Clark didn’t have to literally sleep in each other’s arms all night like before. Although it was going to be another warm night so he might just kick Clark out anyway. He could sleep floating in the air for all he cared.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll just have to make some phone calls to set things in motion back home.”

--- 

The new queen bed stood proudly in the middle of Clark’s small room, with Clark seated on the edge now, observing Bruce put his things away and taking off his jacket. At least Alfred had packed one extra set of clothes.

When he was done, he turned around and looked at Clark, who looked as if he was debating a life or death situation, and as always, Bruce wondered what he would ask. It didn’t take long.

“Wanna go out tonight? Have you ever been to a real midwestern bar?” Bruce only knew of one bar in Smallville, and it was in no condition to operate right now. Still, he felt a vague sense of excitement at Clark asking him out in his hometown. They hadn’t done that before. Every time they had been in Smallville together so far had been for something serious. Clark’s parents, Clark’s temporary loss of powers, Kara, Conner, and even once for Damian, to recover from a nasty concussion.

“It’s open? Didn’t half the roof and the back wall get blown up?” he asked Clark.

“Already boarded up. And yeah, there’s a lot of people there. Something about celebrating your whole town surviving an intergalactic attack, maybe, who knows.” Clark shrugged.

“Hmm. They got karaoke?”

Clark’s eyes shot wide open. “Yeah!”

“One of those bull-riding things? Because I would beat the crap out of everyone.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no. There’s another bull you can ride though,” Clark grinned and hooked his fingers through Bruce’s belt loops to pull him close. He felt his heartrate spike and really, this is why they should’ve just gone back to Gotham.

“Not here.”

“Jeez, no, of course not.” Clark kept looking up at him though, still waiting for an answer. He was truly tired, but also mildly curious to Smallville nightlife. If anything, Clark would make it more fun. Maybe he could beat him at pool or darts or something, and then maybe they could make everyone and themselves believe that they were normal and just have an average date night out.

“Alright, just not too long. And I’m gonna beat you at whatever bar games they got,” Bruce grinned.

“At karaoke?”

“Maybe we’ll do a duet, who knows,” He winked and freed himself from Clark’s grasp. The other man stood up and hooked his arm through Bruce’s offered one. “What say you, Clarkie? Let’s get to that bar o’ yours,” he continued in his worst midwestern accent.

“Not like that you aren’t. You’ll stand out way too much in your dress shirt and Armani pants.” To his horror, Clark turned around towards the closet in the corner of the room. Oh no, whatever he kept here was probably worse than the rainbow cacophony of shirts he had in Metropolis.

“Short sleeves or long? It’s pretty warm.”

Bruce debated his options. Better get this over with quick and hopefully painless. “Long, and I’m keeping the pants. I am not wearing your old jeans.”

Clark threw a shirt at him. “This one has the most black I think.” It had black alright. And red. Straight-up lumberjack. At least the fabric felt nice. “I’ve also got an old blue and white Henley, but it’s pretty worn down. What do you think?”

“I’ll go with the lumberjack,” Bruce mumbled.

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

"Lana, Pete! How are you?" Clark hugged his friends in the middle of a loud, crowded bar, filled with the continuous strings and drums of country music. They had been here for just over an hour and Bruce was on his second beer, something he didn’t do all that often. They kept getting interrupted by people that knew Clark, and Bruce was enjoying himself less and less. Lana he hadn’t met before yet, though, and he had to admit to a quiet curiosity, with the way Clark talked about her and all. (Clark’s enthusiastic ‘My friends are your friends’ from earlier rang in his ears and he forced his mouth into a smile. He would do anything for that man.) His train of thought got interrupted by Clark’s warm hand on his shoulder. "This is Bruce!"

Lana was dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt that didn’t completely cover her shoulders, her auburn curls doing that instead. Bruce grabbed her hand to shake it, but it got answered swiftly by a peck on his cheek. He introduced himself to Pete as well, a scrawny guy, who was somehow allowed to wear a crisp white dress shirt, unlike Bruce. He was starting to feel like maybe Clark had played him and shot him an accusatory look.

Lana turned back to Clark. "We came over as soon as we heard you were in town! Couldn't pass up the opportunity you know?"

"Great to see you Clark,” Pete joined in. “And, you know, Smallville could really use some extra hands right now.”

Clark laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, gee, what did you guys get yourselves into this time?” Before the alien invasion became the talk of the day, he quickly changed the topic. "How's little Clark?"

"He's great! We’re lucky we could get a babysitter this late, but... Are you still here tomorrow? You should come by to see him!"

"We’d love to, yes.”

The conversation carried on for a while, as Clark and his friends obviously had a lot to catch up on. Bruce felt strangely intruding. He considered to start looking for that darts game, right as Lana turned to him.

"So, Bruce, how are you? You from around here?"

"Gotham.”  

"Oh, one of Clark’s city friends! What's it you're doing all the way out here?"

"Bruce is my boyfriend," Clark said and grabbed his hand.

"Oh, Clark... Really? That's awesome!" She turned to Bruce. "I've heard him drop the name a couple times… Didn't know you were so handsome!"

"And I'm a billionaire, too!" Bruce chimed, automatically kicking into Brucie mode. Clark rolled his eyes.

“Wait? Bruce Wayne? The Gotham pl… philanthropist?”

“That’s me.”

Lana’s whistle got lost in the music, but the look she sent Clark said it all. "Wow, Clark, not becoming a gold-digger are we...?" Clark put up his hands in defense, but she continued quickly. "How did you two meet again?" Clark’s flat "work"  got lost in the music too, and Bruce didn't hear anymore after that, because he could see the wheels turning in Lana’s head as she turned back to Clark and made some joke about journalistic integrity. Her whole expression had changed though, and Bruce turned away from the bar to start walking towards the exit. Fresh air. Did he make a mistake? Slip up? Maybe it was the beer. He needed fresh air. The door was too far and it took too long to push through everyone, but eventually the stars looked down at him, the door slammed shut and the music got abruptly replaced by late-night Kansas silence.  

Bruce looked around himself and quickly regained control of his breathing. The parking lot was half-empty, Clark’s beat up truck tucked away in the far corner. He’d be out here soon. He was probably making excuses to Lana and Pete right now to start looking for Bruce.

It wasn’t long before he heard the old rusty door slam shut again.

“She knows.” The calm in his own voice surprised Bruce. 

Clark walked up to him. “She's the first person I ever told."

"You saw the look in her eyes, she's putting one and one together right now, and I…"

“Bruce, stop. You don’t know that, and besides, I trust Lana.”

“You could have at least told me, warned me.” Trust was a burden in Bruce’s life, and an unnecessary slip-up had revealed who he was. He should have asked Clark who they could have run into, a stupid mistake. "I'm walking back to the farm," he said resolutely.

“Hey, what? It’s fine. Stay.” Clark grabbed his hand, but Bruce quickly pulled away. He really didn’t have time for this.

“I’m done here. This was a mistake,” he bit back, and turned around to start walking towards the exit of the parking lot.

"At least take my car? Bruce?"

"No."

Clark was beside him before he could blink. "Bruce."

"I'm walking to the farm and taking my car back to the airport and to Gotham. I'll have Alfred prepare some documents and have a hefty sum of money send Lana's way."

“What? Bruce, baby no, you don't have to do that,” Clarks hand were on his shoulders and he was forced to look straight into those blue eyes. Unobscured by glasses. Idiot. “Lana is my oldest friend. I trust her. Look, I’m sorry this happened. But maybe she hasn’t figured it out and we can still…”

“It’s too late for that. All I can do now is make sure nothing else gets compromised.”

“For fucks sake, Bruce, I’m trying to tell you, it won’t.”

“Until it will.”

Clark let out a huff of breath and closed his eyes. “At least talk to her.”

If it were anyone other than Clark, he would have just walked away. But alas, here he was, with Clark in front of him. The only man that could convince him to do something as ridiculous as wearing a lumberjack to a midwestern bar, and reason his way into Bruce’s mind just like he had wiggled his way into Bruce’s heart. Bruce crossed his arms. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“I’m still walking back to the farm.”

“No karaoke?”

“Forget it, Clark.”

“Ok, whatever, you’re tired. Get some rest. I’m gonna hang around here a bit longer. Here,” Clark pressed his car keys into Bruce’s hands and kissed him on the cheek.

When Clark was back inside the bar, Bruce debated walking back anyway and tossing the keys somewhere in a field for Clark to find. Exhaustion soon enough took over his anger though, and the adrenaline dissipated. Clark should consider himself lucky.

 ---

Clark’s ‘I’m sorry’ and chaste kiss on his forehead woke him up briefly barely an hour after he’d gone to bed.

“Still mad.”

He heard Clark flop on to his back and chuckle quietly. “And still here.”

“Quite the observation you made there.”

“Well, I learned from the best.”

“Obviously.”

Whatever Clark said after that was lost on him, and he turned around again to face the other way and closed his eyes.

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

The next morning, as Bruce walked down the creaky stairs, hair still damp from his shower, the smell of fresh coffee approached him pleasantly. There was a lot more work to do in town, so Bruce had really made an effort to get up early, but he still found Clark at the kitchen table with a half-eaten stack of pancakes before him. There was toast, yoghurt and fruit laid out for Bruce. Martha knew him well.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked Clark as he took his seat. Jonathan walked in through the kitchen door, his brow already covered in sweat.

“Dang dust is making it so much harder to clean,” he said as he wiped his handkerchief over his forehead.

“Oh shush Jonathan, you need to eat something and drink plenty water. The boys will be there to help soon.”

“I’m staying all week, pa,” Clark clarified.

“Alright,” Jonathan said after he gulped down his water. “Just came back to get some more tools.” Martha walked him to the door and Bruce heard her say to slow it down, especially in this heat and Jonathan’s yes, yes you know me probably sounded funny to himself, but clearly not to Martha.

Clark looked at him over the cup of coffee he was pouring for Bruce. “So I take it you’re staying?”

“If you’ll have me, yes.” He still wasn’t sure how to feel about what happened last night. It seemed like something so avoidable, something Damian would definitely pin on him for being careless. And his son would be right. As much as he wanted to blame Clark, it was largely his own fault. The wrinkles disappeared from Clark’s face as he smiled and passed him the coffee.

“J’onn contacted me about the aliens this morning. They’re Zandrian. He’s been interrogating them, and it seems as if they were looking for some signal here.”

Here, as in Smallville. “Your Kryptonian ship.”

“Most likely, yes.”

“And why is it still here?”

Clark swallowed his bite. “Thought it was harmless. It’s never sent out any kind of signal, not now either. Nothing I can sense at least.”

“Radiation?”

“Perhaps. So, that’s what we’re doing today. I’m taking the ship to the north pole and I wanted to ask you if you could take a look at the barn.”

That sounded like a plan. Something where Bruce could be useful. “Okay. I’ll need some instruments from the cave though.”

“I’ll pick up whatever you need. But first… Baby time!” Clark grinned. Bruce nearly choked on his coffee. “Eat your breakfast. Lana’s expecting us.” Clark got up and started putting things away, clearly way too excited for this.

“I have to see her right now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He quickly drank the rest of his coffee. “The sooner, the better.”

“No scary batshit, Bruce,” Clark pointed a finger at him. “We’re there for the baby.”

 ---

Lana and Pete’s place was another old farmhouse, not too far from the Kent’s, so they walked there. Lana inherited it from her aunt after having lived with her most of her life, Clark told him. Bruce had sweat stains under his arm by the time they reached the house. Maybe he should have opted for one of Clark’s t-shirts and ugly cargo shorts today.

The breeze blowing through Lana’s living room and being out of the sun helped though, and Lana served them lemonade with ice cubes. Bruce sat down on a chair and Clark took his place on the large couch.

“I’m sorry Pete couldn’t be here, you know how he is with the store.”

“Is it bad? We can go help if he needs,” Clark offered, verging on apologetic.

“He’ll be fine. I’m sure you both have more important matters to attend to.” She looked at Bruce when she said it, and he cleared his throat.

“Just. Make sure he asks if he needs. We can provide,” He settled on, hoarsely. The bat was barely audible in his voice and Clark should be proud. He nodded at him from where he was sitting on the couch. It could wait.

They got startled by a baby’s cries, and Lana disappeared out of the living room. She came back in with Clark (the name still irked Bruce, even though Clark had told him the child wasn’t named after him but after Martha’s maiden name – because yes, that made it less weird somehow). “Look who’s awake!”

The child on Lana’s arm looked around drowsily, clearly unsure how to feel after waking up from his nap and being greeted by two strange men. 

Clark reached out his hands and Lana placed the baby in his lap. Bruce knew he was around 5 months old. Clark had been there for the birth but hadn’t had much opportunity to see him after that. Lana sent him many pictures and videos though, that Clark would show Bruce late at night in bed, and they would laugh at the child’s antics and giggles. The learning curve of young people was incredible.

The child was slowly waking up in Clark’s arms and started making more sound. Not crying, he was content, and Bruce wondered if he knew instinctively that Clark’s arms were the safest place on earth. “He likes me,” Clark grinned up at Lana when the baby grabbed his fingers.

“Of course.”

Bruce felt stuck in place, captivated by the sight. Clark looked so incredibly at home, so natural with a child in his arms that held on to Clark’s pointer finger with a force as if he did it every day and was decidedly not named after Clark. Bruce quickly swallowed around the lump forming in his throat before his thoughts would betray him anymore and moved from his chair over to the couch to sit next to Clark.

When Lana walked back into the living room with pie, she took a picture of them, and that would probably make this day a lot harder to look back on later, but right now Bruce didn’t care. The baby was on Clark’s lap, looking up at both of them and laughing. Definitely at Clark sticking out his tongue and making cooing sounds. Bruce didn’t do that. Until he found himself mimicking the baby and trying to get him to laugh. Damn mirror-reflexes.  

He tried not to think about what he had missed out on with Damian. What Damian had missed out on. Instead he put a hand on Clark’s back, and held it there while they both continued to make ridiculous sounds and faces at little Clark.

 ---

When Clark left to take the rocket ship to the North Pole, Bruce went to work on the barn. Though, not before he did change into Clark’s old Henley and cargo shorts. Alfred would kill him if he got any more dust on his nice clothes.

The hatch in the floor of the barn was open, and the space underneath now empty. There had been some radiation coming off of the ship itself, but it was faint and not nearly enough to hurt anyone. Bruce doubted he would find any more in the rest of the barn, and considered other forms of signals the aliens could have picked up. Lower frequency wave lengths, maybe.

Nonetheless, he went around the hole in the ground methodically, scanning every scrap piece of metal, rock, and dirt. He swept it clean too, and took any tools that were still there out to examine them later in the barn. There was a large box, all the way at the back, that he skipped at first, but knew he eventually had to get back to as well. Getting it out was no problem, he could lift it over his head and slide it onto the barn floor easily, but he had a feeling what might be in there.

After cleaning the other tools and logging anything of interest he could find on the metal and rocks, he went back to the box and opened it. Sitting on the floor, he stared down at pictures of Clark, a baseball and bat, scrap of red fabric, a pair of extremely worn down and no-longer-white converse.

“Haven’t seen that thing in a while.” Jonathan’s voice startled Bruce as he walked into the barn and took his cap off.

“Hmm. Sorry, I was cleaning, we thought…”

“I know. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

“What happened to the baseball?” Bruce held up the ball, split clear in half and its threads loose.

“Was the first one Clark hit clear across Smallville. I looked for it for six months on the other side of town,” Jonathan answers proudly. “The shoes are from when he first outran the car.”

“That must’ve been something,” Bruce huffed. He got up. “So this is a reminder. Of what he can do.”

“Oh, I don’t need to be reminded of that,” Jonathan Laughed. “But I kept the memories because I knew he could never belong to us. Never belong here. He belongs to everyone, out there.”

Bruce thought about that. In Smallville, Clark was clearly at home. “I don’t know. I think he belongs right here, in the center of it all. I haven’t seen him so relaxed and… happy in a long time.”

“Bruce, son. As much as Clark is still a small-town boy - and will never not be -, I know he is happy right where he’s supposed to be, with you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me.”

As Jonathan left the barn again, Bruce felt in the back of his mind the creeping feeling that he could never give Clark what he had left behind here. That he could never be what Clark truly wanted. Because as much as he hated Smallville’s openness and missed the gothic stoicism of Gotham, this place was everything Clark stood for. It was everything Bruce was not. Somehow, somewhere along the way, a mistake had been made, one that Bruce would have already undone were he a stronger and less selfish man.

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

Bruce would never tell the man as much, but Martha’s sandwiches were far superior to Alfred’s. Maybe it had something to do with working outside all day that made the sandwiches waiting for him taste just that much better.

He had considered multiple times during the day to beam up to the watchtower, but he didn’t have his suit, and finally settled on just contacting J’onn about his progress with the aliens and the mediocre findings of his work in the barn. Maybe it could help, as J’onn was still in contact with the creatures after they had quickly been escorted away by the Green Lanterns. Hopefully, some negotiations were all that was needed to keep them away.

 ---

As the day progressed, and Clark didn’t return, Bruce worked himself to a sweat multiple times. In Smallville, he wasn’t expected to be Brucie Wayne, because no one knew who that was. But he wasn’t Batman either. It was as if he was back in training, another nobody working long days in the sun, sweat forming a sheen on his skin, and exhaustion putting him to sleep in the afternoon heat on the porch. No, he decided, this was as far from his training days as possible, and allowed himself to relax.

As the sun started setting, he ended up in the kitchen with Martha to prepare dinner. She knew he wasn’t very skilled around the stove – courtesy of Alfred’s warnings -, so he was put on vegetable cutting duty. That was fine. He used to do it all the time with Alfred as a child and still did sometimes. The methodical slicing of the bell peppers, potatoes and onions kept him focused and calmed him down.

Just as dinner was almost done and they were cleaning up the kitchen, a familiar sound followed by creaking floorboards and the opening of the screen door made Martha jump. Bruce smiled. Maybe the smell of dinner had made Clark fly back a little faster.

“Oh, Jonathan! He’s back!” Martha shouted while putting her tea towel down and practically skipping towards the screen door. “Hey, ma. Pa,” Bruce heard from his place in the kitchen.

“Are you okay? We got worried, you stayed away so long…”

“I’m fine, ma. Just some miners in South-Africa that got stuck.”

“Told you the boy was fine, Martha.”

Bruce washed his hands and was drying them when he walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, where an adult, 6 foot 3 tall man in a Superman suit was hugging his aging and tired parents. Bruce felt painfully out of place, but it quickly subsided when Clark looked up at him. “Hey. Little detour there.”

“So I heard.”

Clark walked over to him and kissed him chastely on the lips. It was the kind of kiss you give your significant other in front of your parents or your children, or when you return home from work after a long day. A type of kiss they had shared many times, to the children’s (and especially Damian’s) horror, but that here, in Smallville, made Bruce feel as if they were normal. As if they could be normal. As if he always helped Clark’s mom with dinner and worked long hours in the sun with his dad. Though, as quickly as the kiss ended, the feeling fleeted and Bruce felt like himself again. They broke apart and Clark looked him up and down.  

“You look dashing in that ensemble Bruce, who picked that for you?”

Right. He was still wearing the Henley. And the ugly shorts. A pair of his own limited edition and now-brown sneakers to top it off. “Oh, thank you, just a simple get-up I found in the dumpster here.” He made his way over to the stairs, and Clark followed him with a grin.

“You boys be down soon, dinner is ready and I’m setting the table outside,” Martha warned as they made their way upstairs.

In Clark’s small bedroom, they both changed into something more appropriate, and Clark combed down his wind-swept hair. Bruce turned to look at him and waited for him to be done.

“Your ship?”

“Buried it next to the Fortress.” Bruce nodded approvingly. Clark set down the comb, but as he did so he stared out the window into seemingly nothing, his brows furrowed and drawn together. The miners. Bruce walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Clark sighed, but still pulled Bruce into a hug. “Thanks for asking.”

Clark hugged him with an intensity that made it clear that it was needed much more than the kiss from before. “Just… It was stressful,” he sighed. “Those miners. I couldn’t just drill them out, it took hours.”

Bruce nodded and angled his face towards the crook of Clark’s neck. He smelled like dust and a vague hint of sea-salt, and definitely needed a shower, but the crisp clean t-shirt was all Martha’s laundry detergent. As they stood, Bruce felt the tension leave Clark’s shoulders and his grip loosen, and he looked back up at him. Clark’s eyes had regained their usual shade of blue and the lines had disappeared from his forehead.

Bruce tried a smile and grabbed Clark’s hand. “Come. Dinner’s waiting.”

 ---

After dinner, Clark somehow got them excused from doing dishes and took Bruce by his hand out into the garden, and to the barn. Bruce thought about telling him about the box he found, but didn’t. Instead, Clark asked if he wanted to for a walk and grabbed a picnic blanket.

Their walk was laced only with the sound of cicadas, and took them away from the farm uphill where the low grass gave way to bushes and trees. They stopped at the top of the hill.

“I don’t know why it is you’re taking me here,” Bruce said as Clark laid down the blanket on a patch of very dry grass.

“I thought we could enjoy the night together. Just the two of us.” Clark’s smile was much too innocent as he sat down and patted beside him for Bruce to sit.  

“We had a fight.”

“Yes. And I love you. Please tell me you haven’t been thinking about that all day. I thought we were okay just now.”

Bruce sighed. “My secret identity got exposed. I’m not okay with that.”

“You wanna talk about it? Did you get a chance to talk to Lana?” Clark prompted.

“Not yet. But I’m… sorry. For the way I reacted last night.” He sat down next to Clark on the blanket.

“I’m sorry too. I should have let you know.”

“Does Pete know?”

“Yes, although he doesn’t really acknowledge it. We barely talk about it.”

Bruce huffed out a breath of air. They were surrounded by small, green trees that gave way to a view of the corn and grain fields below. The sun was inching closer to the horizon and it had finally started to cool down a little bit. Next to him Clark was looking at him, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

Clark shifted and settled behind Bruce, trapping him in between his legs and large arms, which Bruce allowed. It was painfully clear that Clark knew just what Bruce needed, and where that used to irk him to the core and make his skin crawl, he now welcomed it, leaned back, and let himself relax. It was easier to talk when you didn’t have to look the other person in the eyes.

“That should have been you, Clark,” he started. “A house in Smallville, wife, child... sometimes I don’t understand why you left this place at all.” This whole weekend felt like the first time he was really in Smallville and had seen what made Clark, Clark. A reality that he wasn’t a part of and only allowed a glimpse of, by some miracle.

“So you do like it here,” Clark said. When Bruce didn’t say anything to that, he continued: “I knew I had to give that up a long time ago. And, just between you and me, I'd say we have the most awesome family in the universe.”

“But we'll never have that. A child all our own. You could have.”

“I know,” Clark whispered into his hair. “Is that something you would have wanted? If…”

“Even if it was technically possible, the moral implications are just... I wouldn't want to bring a child into this world. Into our world,” Bruce mused out loud.

“But It is technically possible. Conner.”

“Conner is a clone. And we’re lucky we found him when we did.” He had turned into a wonderful kid, a good crimefighter even, but he had his unpredictability. They didn’t know nearly enough about his physiology, his lifespan, his unpredictable moods. Clark squeezed his hand.

“And if we were normal?”

If they were normal, Clark would have stayed in Smallville, and they would have never met. And Bruce, as a rule, did not think in hypotheticals. Not like this. Yet, he heard himself answer without hesitation.  “Yes.”

“Me too,” Clark’s lips were on Bruce’s ear in a way that was not quite a kiss. It was an affirmation, taking Bruce in, this moment, his scent mixed with that of Kansas, and a gush of breath that ghosted through Bruce’s hair. Clark’s breathing was grounding, a dull constant in the midst of the song of the cicadas, the feeling of dead grass under his toes and the Kent’s old picnic blanket under his fingers. It was all wrong.

“Don’t you wonder what would have happened if you had stayed? With Lana?”

“Once or Twice, a long time ago. But I left here to find myself. I never fit in here, never really belonged here. You know that.”

“You do, though. You’re much happier here. Yourself.” Bruce turned to meet Clark’s blue eyes, the smile lines visible even on Superman’s perfect skin. “And I don’t,” he breathed in. “I don’t fit in here. With you.” The smile lines disappeared.

“Bruce… Why would you think that?”  

“I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever really been in Smallville. Stopped and looked around. Like I’ve finally seen the last piece of the puzzle that is you.”

“And everything else completes it. You complete it. I belong to you.” Clark put a hand over his heart. “And you belong to me. Don’t you ever forget that.” Clark’s blue eyes under his furrowed brows pierced right into his soul, something he had discovered a long time ago he could not ignore.

In a different life, Clark might have stayed in Kansas. As it was, they had found each other elsewhere amid their hectic lives, in some twisted inescapable fate. An alignment. 

“Hn. You’re still a Kansas boy at heart.”

“And you like that.” Clark’s smile was back. The one that regardless of the Kansas sun or Gotham greys or Metropolis shine brightened up his life and Bruce found himself smiling back in return.

“Can’t say that I don’t.”

“So… now that you’ve got me completely figured out…”

“Hmm?”

“Where do we go from here?”

“We have sex. That is why you brought me here, right?”

“Bruce!” Clark covered his mouth with his hand in a fake gasp. “I can’t believe you think of me that way.”

“But you did.”

“Can’t say that I didn’t,” Clark smirked, put his hand on the back of Bruce’s neck, and kissed him.

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

In the middle of the night, the queen bed was too big and Clark should be right on him, spooning him, and cooling him with freeze breath. So Bruce rolled over into his space, and Clark – half asleep – happily put his arms around him. He could be a selfish man if Clark was too.

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

On Sunday morning, the clouds started gathering and simultaneous to the electric tension of a storm building in the air, the people of Smallville let out a collective sigh. Soon, they would get some rain.

After a quiet Sunday breakfast and Clark’s parents had returned from church, it was off to town in Clark’s old truck. Jonathan had taken his newer one, full of materials and tools, and Clark and Bruce would do clean-up together and haul away rubble to a nearby depot. Main street already looked more lively than the day before, with most of the rubble gone and gathered in piles. People were walking around and making small talk, a stray door was being hung back into its hinges. The few buildings that had any structural damage had been taped of, and shattered windows had been boarded up, but the wind had picked up and blew the dust away, clearing the air and everyone’s mood.

 On the way to and from the depot, Clark rolled down the windows and sung along with the songs on the radio, missing some of the words and looking over at Bruce every now and then.

He watched Clark, sunshine ever present in his skin and smile. How he was in such good spirits while literally cleaning his hometown after an alien attack was lost on Bruce. But then again, Clark was usually in a good mood if he was able to help someone. Even though he was doing it as Clark Kent now, and couldn’t use his super strength to haul stuff into the truck, or maybe because of that.

“It’s fine, B.”

Bruce hummed in response.

“I hope you had a good time here, despite everything.”

“I’m still having a good time now.” He immediately regretted saying that, because Clark mistook it for him liking his singing and continued on for the remainder of the ride. Really, it was Clark’s enthusiasm that made it tolerable. Bruce felt content to just watch, and breathed in the Kansas air, and tried to store away this memory forever.

 ---

When they were back in town, Clark stayed to help Pete at the store while Bruce went to the local hardware place to get some more supplies. He found what he needed and was waiting in line when he felt someone approach him from behind.

“Hey, Bruce.” He turned around to face her.

“Lana. Hello.”

“You got something that needs fixing?” she smiled at the small box of screws and plugs in his hands. He looked at the people in line behind her, all getting something, even if it was just a nail to hang up a picture that had come off the wall during the attack.

“More than one thing, I’m afraid.”

Lana huffed. “Smallville will be fine. I hope you’ve been enjoying your weekend here at least?”

“It’s been…” Eye-opening. New. Necessary. “Different,” he settled on.

“Ha! I believe that, coming from the big city and all.” That obviously wasn’t what he meant, but he assumed Lana knew that.

It was Bruce’s turn to pay. He put down a 20 and accepted his change, stepped aside to let Lana pay. “Walk with me,” he commanded when she was done. They reached Clark’s truck in the middle of the sunlit parking lot. Bruce held on to the keys in his pocket and missed the protective confining warmth of his cowl.  

When Bruce didn’t say anything, Lana cleared her throat. "The way Clark talked about the bat always made me think he was in love with him. Glad to see it worked out." It was a good thing Lana was just as blunt as Clark. Something about rural Kansas, he thought. He couldn't help but feel a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, it just wasn't hard to connect the dots. You’re him, right?”

Without hesitation. "Yes." The things this town did to him were beyond his understanding. Small town life brought out the truth easily. Here, there were no covers required, no masks. It’s the same reason why he could have found the last piece of Clark, only here.

"Look, Bruce. I know how important the whole secret identity thing is to Clark. Think he can count on one hand the people that really know him."

"More like three hands now with my children and the league." There was that incessant tug at the corner of his mouth again.

"You're a father."

"Not in the most traditional sense of the word, but yes." He leaned against the door of the car. Lana seemed to think about that. Batman and Robin. What it implied. Bruce braced himself for the passion of a young mother, but it never came. Instead she swallowed.

“I did love Clark once, but I knew I could never be what he needed. I’m glad he found someone,” she paused. Looked up at Bruce with her brows drawn together. "Your secret is safe with me Bruce."

That was the issue, though. No secret is ever safe with anyone, because then it wasn’t a secret anymore. He gritted his teeth, swallowed. He thought of Clark, how he would put his warm hand on his shoulder if he were here right now, how he would say once again that it was fine, Lana could be trusted. Clark’s closest friend, first love, and the person that knew him best before he became who he had to be. Lana was to be trusted. Bruce sighed.

"I just need you to sign some documents, and get your contact information in case something gets compromised."

Lana nodded. "Sounds fair."

He opened the car door and climbed in. Lana put her hand on the open window. “It was nice meeting you, Bruce.”

“Likewise.” He paused. “I’ll make sure Clark gets you those documents.”

“Alright,” Lana laughed and waved at him as he started the car. He wondered how much of Clark had rubbed off on her during their childhood friendship and dating through high school. Or maybe it had been the other way around. Clark probably wouldn’t be who he was today without her, or without anyone here for that matter.

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

The jet was placed imminently in front of them, Smallville and its normalcy reduced to a memory on the far horizon. Bruce turned around and looked at Clark, his hair windswept and glasses placed awkwardly back on his nose. Here to see him off to Gotham.

“Thank you for having me.”

Clark laughed. “Thanks for staying.”

“I would almost say it would be acceptable to do this again some time.”

“Almost?”

“Well.” Bruce shrugged. “Minus the alien invasion.”

“Of course. 4th of July? Bring the kids?”

“That could turn out worse than an alien invasion,” his own laugh surprised Bruce.

“I mean… we’ll have Alfred to keep them in check,” Clark argued. “Ma would love having all of them over.”

“I’ll give it some consideration, then.”

“Hmm, so that’s a yes?” Clark grabbed his waist and brought his face close to Bruce’s. His triumphant, beautiful grin was the most annoying thing in the world that Bruce could only wipe off with a long, slow kiss. 

Behind him, the engines of the plane roared and it was really time to say goodbye. To Clark, if only for a couple days. To Clark’s parents. To Kansas. Godawful, unpredictable, and beautiful Kansas. Just like its most important (former) inhabitant.

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

Out of the window of the jet, he watched Clark, the town, and finally the cornfields disappear, and he sighed contently. Smallville. His secret was safe here.

#superbat #write write #I worked on this for like two weeks and i'm like genuinely proud of it #farm fic #pls don't be weirded out by baby clark. #...it's canon

[everwizard]

Back to the Present

Summary: After arriving back on Earth, Hera and Minkowski try to return Eiffel's memories through movie nights. Tonight's movie is Back to the Future.

Words: 1,374

Warnings: Spoilers for Back to the Future

AO3 Link

Eiffel sits down on the sofa. He looks at the blank screen in front of him. He doesn’t know what he will be watching today. It’s a surprise. It’s always a surprise.

They had gotten off of the Urania seven months ago and ever since, Hera and Minkowski, or Renée, or whatever he was supposed to call her, had been trying to return his memories to him. He started with the tapes but finished them quickly. He couldn’t understand half of what the previous Eiffel was talking about at the time and so his friends decided to bring him up to speed on over thirty years of pop culture.

Movie nights like this were frequent. Sometimes Lovelace and Jacobi would join if they were interested in the film and/or in the area but tonight it was just the three of them.

“I’ve got popcorn!” Minkowski announces as she moves into the room. She sits down next to Eiffel, handing him a bucket of the salty snack. “Hera, will you turn on the TV, please?”

“Of course, lieutenant,” the sentient AI replies. The television flickers to life, displaying the brand logo before switching to a DVD menu screen.

Eiffel reads the title. “Back to the Future, huh? Some sort of time travel movie?”

“Yes!” Hera proclaims. “I chose this one this time.”

The group had long since finished Star Wars, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, and several other action-filled franchises of various genres. Today they were starting the 1980’s time-travel trilogy that, as always, Eiffel knew nothing about.

Minkowski presses play on the menu and the movie begins.

The movie opens with the ticking of dozens of clocks and Eiffel settles into the sofa with his popcorn.

The characters seemed interesting enough to Eiffel. Marty, the teenager with a knack for music, was the run of the mill high schooler. Eiffel wondered what high school was like. Where was he on the social ladder at that age? And Doc Brown, the eccentric scientist of unknown origins whose mind was on a totally different level than his peers. Was that what this Hilbert guy was like? Probably not. The Doc never killed anyone. Probably.

Eiffel watched with attention as, through a series of mishaps, Marty ends up in 1955 with no way back.

The mentions of aliens brought Eiffel's thoughts to Lovelace.

"'It's mutated into human form', huh? Remind you of anyone?" he says.

"Eiffel, do you have to make a Lovelace joke every time we watch a sci-fi movie?" Minkowski asks, pausing the movie.

"What? Come on, they're funny!" Eiffel exclames.

“No they’re not, Eiffel,” Hera chimes in. “Now shut up, I’m trying to watch.”

Eiffel scoffs, “Can’t you know this whole movie instantly?”

“Well yeah, but that goes against the whole point of movie night,” Hera sighs. “So I set my television processing power down to your human brain levels.”

“Alright, fine. Let’s keep watching then.”

Minkowski rolls her eyes and resumes the movie.

The trio sit in comfortable silence as the film continues. Well, Eiffel and Minkowski sit. Hera exists as a large house.

As the movie progresses, George gets beaten by Biff, George gets beaten by Biff again, and, you guessed it, George gets beaten by Biff a third time. Eiffel dedicates his full attention to the movie, determined to learn the secrets of his past.

His attention returns to the world around him when he hears Minkowski snicker to his left. He glances over. “What’s so funny?”

Minkowski hides her face. “What? Nothing.”

“Hang on, wait. You’re actually enjoying this?”

“Of course not. I would never enjoy something as cheesy as this.” Minkowski scoffs.

“Come on,” Eiffel prods, “what was it? The Darth Vader reference?”

“What? No.”

“The Vulcan reference then.”

“Absolutely not.”

“She’s lying,” Hera chimes in. “It's definitely the Vulcan joke. Her Command Authentication Code was literally Vulcan.”

Minkowski flushes. “Hera! Who’s side are you on?”

Hera laughs. “I’m on my own side.”

Minkowski sighs. “Fine, it was the Vulcan joke.”

“Wait a minute,” Eiffel starts. “Is this why we watched Star Trek first? Are you that big of a Spock fan?”

“No…”

“Lieutenant,” Hera warns.

“Fine!” Minkowski bursts. “Fine! I'm a Spock fan. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Minkowski! That’s so cool! Why didn’t you say something before?”

“Eiffel,” Minkowski sighs, “the last time I brought up one of my interests, you laughed at me.”

Eiffel’s face falls. “Oh,” was all that he could say. Did he really laugh at her? At his friend? What had she confided in him that he just blew off like that? Mocked her for? His past self must have been a real asshole.

Minkowski notices Eiffel’s change in demeanor. “Eiffel…” she starts. “Doug. You were a different person back then. You’ve more than made up for it by now. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t even be here right now. On Earth. You made the biggest sacrifice of us all and I’m…” she hesitates, “I’m sorry for hiding this from you.”

“No Renée, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did to you. Back then. I was a real dick, wasn’t I?”

“Doug, you don't have to apologize. You were a different person. You don’t have to apologize for things you don’t even remember.”

“But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I was—”

“But you’re not anymore. You are a new person now. You’re my friend and nothing is going to change that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Minkowski smiles. “Are you ready to keep watching?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The movie resumes and everyone continues watching in silence.

Everytime Doc brings up not wanting to know his future, Eiffel cannot help but to think of his past. Who was he, really? The tapes only covered the last three or so years. He was never going to be able to get the rest back. All he knew from before the Hephaestus was what he said in the tapes. Besides his daughter, there wasn't much else there. He didn't even know how he ended up on a space station to begin with. He somehow got out of his prison sentence and that was all he knew.

His train of thought is interrupted when Lorraine begins trying to make out with Marty. “Woah, woah, woah! That's his mom. Is this guy really kissing his mom?”

“Technically, his mom is kissing him,” Hera answers. “But it doesn’t really make it that much better.”

“It really doesn’t,” Minkowski agrees.

Eiffel nods. “This is weird, even for me.”

Hera laughs in agreement. It was indeed weird, even by Eiffel’s standards.

“Hey, you picked it,” Eiffel points out.

“I’ve never seen it before!” Hera argues.

“Well that's fair, I guess,” he says, returning his attention to the screen.

Marty was fading from existence. His actions were causing him to be erased from history. Eiffel begins to think how that is going to affect Marty going forward. To almost die. To almost lose yourself forever.

Well, for Eiffel, it wasn’t an almost. The old Eiffel did die. The new Eiffel did lose himself forever. There was nothing left for him to remember, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Eiffel returned his attention to the movie once again. If he missed parts then he’d have to watch it again, which would slow the whole process down. So he paid attention again.

Marty safely arrived back to the future. He and all his friends were alright. The Doc survived. His family was happy. His girlfriend loved him.

Eiffel had arrived back on Earth in much the same fashion. His crew was alright. Almost everyone had survived. His friends were happy. And he had people who loved him. Everything was going to be alright.

He would never get all his memories back and that’s okay. He had his friends and they were going to help him. They would do what they could but ultimately there were always going to be blanks.

This was his chance to start over. To be better. For Hera. For Minkowski. For himself. For Anne.

He would fix his past for a better future. Just like Marty McFly.

The credits began to roll and Eiffel sighs, "So when are we gonna watch the next one?"

#wolf 359 #douglas eiffel #doug eiffel #renee minkowski #hera wolf 359 #fanfiction

[atths--twice]

Kitten, while not my favorite episode, there were some good MSR moments and tell me that Scully wasn’t just as affected by the white Mulder shirt as most of us were. That man really knows how to wear a fitted short. 

Chapter Thirty Six 

Getting Warm 

After being sure that Skinner is okay, Mulder and Scully head home, tired, but looking forward to spending time together. And boy, do they ..

February 2018

Mulder sat in the hospital waiting room while Scully was back with Skinner. She had patched him up as best she could back at Davey's trailer, but he needed to come to the hospital to be properly examined.

All this time later, she was still Skinner’s emergency contact, which was something neither of them had been aware of until she was called back by the nurse. The knowledge caused Scully to smile softly as she glanced at Mulder and headed to the back to be with Skinner.

They had been back there for about half an hour now and Mulder was getting antsy as he waited for them. He hoped Skinner was okay. The wound had been deep and looked pretty terrible. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the magazine in his hands.

“Mulder?” Scully’s voice said softly, her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, setting down the magazine and glancing at her as she sat in the chair in front of him. “How is he?”

“Okay, but they’re going to keep him here for a couple of days to keep an eye on him. They were able to isolate and stop the internal bleeding. It wasn’t significant enough to warrant a blood transfusion, but he’s weak and given the nature of the puncture wound there is concern for infection. But overall, he’s doing alright back there. Well, more than alright given that there is a blonde nurse back there making a fool of herself over him,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “He’s very lucky. It could have been much worse,” she said, watching him as he nodded and returned her smile.

“Still his emergency contact? That’s gotta make you feel good,” he said with a smirk. She shrugged, but he could see the pride in her eyes. He nodded and stood up, glancing down at her. “Ready to go?” She nodded and stood to her feet.

“Good thing we never got to a hotel. Now we can just head home. I’m exhausted,” she sighed, walking toward the exit. He nodded and held the door open as they stepped to it, letting her walk out first.

“There is a commuter flight in an hour,” he told her as they walked to the car. She nodded with another sigh, and he smiled.

With their bags stored and seat belts on, they both relaxed back into the seats of their second flight as they waited for takeoff. Uncrossing her arms, Scully exhaled deeply. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she settled and sighed. He smiled and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“Mulder,” she said, resting her hand over his leg and settling more comfortably against him as he moved to wrap his left arm around her. “Mm, you smell good.” He heard her say, causing him to smile. By the time they took off, they were both asleep.

Almost five hours later, they were heading to Mulder's car. Both had slept for the majority of the flight, only waking about twenty minutes before the plane touched down.

Mulder unlocked the door and put their bags inside before getting in the car and sitting down. “Should we get something to eat?” he asked as they put their seatbelts on.

“Hmm, how about we head to my place and call in some Chinese for an early dinner? I want to change out of these clothes,” she said with a sigh. “And take a shower.”

“Well, if you need help reaching your back, or anywhere else, you let me know,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows and a grin. She rolled her eyes but then held his gaze, her eyes landing on his lips before turning her head and looking out the window. He stared at her and then started the car.

It was a quiet drive to her place, not taking too long before they arrived. She took her bag out, unlocked the front door, and turned off the alarm. He shook his head at the technology involved just as he did every time he was over, which was not too often.  

“Why is your house so much nicer than mine?” he asked, the same as he always did. She made a face at him and put her bag on the floor as he closed the door.

“I’m going to shower, you call in the food. The usual is fine with me." He watched her walk toward her room and sighed. After taking out his phone and placing their order, Mulder removed his shoes and walked around, looking at her place. Well, Alan’s place.

She had been there for almost two years. Alan had been asked to stay on where he was and since he and Scully were still in limbo, the additional time had worked in both Scully and Alan’s favor. Alan’s place was very well decorated and organized. Scully had not added much to it, save the alien cat pillow, a blanket or two, and some candles she enjoyed the scent of.

He was not sure if it made him glad or unnerved that she seemed to be in a constant state of simply existing in this space. As though she was waiting for something, but not sure what. Sighing, he left the living room and decided to light the candles and put them on the dining room table where they would be eating.

The doorbell rang not long after he had set the table. Grabbing his wallet, he opened the front door and paid for the food, thanking the delivery guy and closing the door. He set the bags of food on the table and went down the hall to Scully’s room.

“Food’s here,” he called, after knocking on the door.

“Great, I’ll be right out.” Came her muffled reply.

He walked back down the hall and began to take the containers from the bag, setting them out and opening them. His stomach growled and his mouth watered as he looked at it all. It all smelled so good, and he was starved, having not eaten all day, but he would wait for Scully.

He heard her bare feet on the floor coming toward him and inhaled sharply at the sight of her. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she only wore a blue gray robe. He could tell she was not wearing anything on top as he could see her nipples through the robe, causing his mouth to water for an entirely different reason.

“This looks great, thanks for getting it ready. I’m starving,” she said, grabbing a container and sitting down. He continued staring at her until she glanced up at him with a frown. He reached for the other chair and sat down across from her.

They both piled food onto their plates and began to eat. Neither said anything as they did, both hungry and in need of sustenance. He handed her the box of egg rolls, and she handed him the spicy beef he liked. Only the sounds of contentment were heard as they ate their fill.

During the course of the meal, she took the towel off her head and shook her hair out, combing her fingers through it. He watched her as she did, smelling the scent of her shampoo, wanting to bury his nose in it. Her robe opened a little, enough to show the swell of her breast, and confirm his suspicions. She was definitely naked up top. The lower half though …

“I was thinking about Skinner while I was in the shower,” she said, grabbing the box of rice and adding more to her plate.

“Is that a normal occurrence?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She shrugged and put some soy sauce on her rice.

“I mean, he’s a good looking man. You can’t blame a woman for wondering,” she said, not looking at him.

“Huh, is that right?” he asked in mock annoyance. She looked up at him and her eyes burned fire, making his dick stir. She continued staring before rolling her eyes and shoving a bite in her mouth, shaking her head as she chewed.

“Just wondering if he was okay. I’ll call him tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded. Her eyes roamed across his face and chest and he wondered what she was thinking. When she reached for another egg roll, her robe gaped open again, revealing more skin.

“Scully, I have to ask. Are you completely naked under that robe?” he finally asked her, no longer able to hide his curiosity.

“Dinner took about twenty minutes, and you didn’t ask once. I don’t feel you deserve an answer for at least that amount of time,” she said, sitting back and tightening her robe. She took a bite, raising her eyebrows at him, and he grinned.

“Is that right?” he asked again, in a completely different tone. Playful and teasing Scully was in control, and they both knew it.

“It is,” she said with a small smile of her own, taking another bite.

“Hmmm,” he said, brushing his hands together and wiping them on a napkin. “No answer for twenty minutes, that’s cold.” She shrugged with one shoulder, eating the rest of her egg roll, and smiling. “No answer, huh? Can I investigate?” Again she shrugged and acted nonchalant. He nodded and got up from his chair, pulling it to the end of the table and sitting to her left.

He stared at her, and she stared back. He looked at her from head to toe and reached for her chair, pulling hard and turning her toward him. Putting a hand on her knee, he opened her legs. She inhaled a breath and let it out. Holding the material of the robe between his fingers, he pulled, exposing her bare flesh. Moaning, he moved his hand up her leg, his fingers tracing the soft skin he found.

He left his chair to kneel down in front of her, knowing he would find her completely naked underneath. Both hands were on her satiny thighs when he heard her breathe his name. He looked up and watched her chest rising and falling, her eyes dark with desire.

“Am I getting warm?” he asked, his hands closer to her hips, finding no barriers to speak of. She sighed and scooted her body down in the chair. He smiled, taking his cue from her.

He opened her legs wider and her robe fell open showing how naked she truly was underneath. Her arousal was evident as he leaned in further, reaching to untie the belt of her robe.

“No,” she breathed, blocking his hands. “That’s cheating. You said investigate. Nowhere was it stated you could completely open a case.” He laughed softly as he moved his hands, conceding to her rules. His question had been answered and he was ready to claim his reward.

Soft kisses were laid on the tops of her thighs, while his fingers scratched lightly along the sides. She moved more and he could smell how aroused she was, and he ached to taste and be inside her.

His tongue ran along her thighs and she cried out, her hand going to his head, her fingers in his hair. Closer to his goal, he kissed and licked her sweet smelling skin, finally arriving where he would live if he was allowed.

He pulled her to the edge of her chair and opened her legs even wider, his mouth dropping to her center. She cried out again as he slowly made love to her with his mouth. Kissing, sucking, and licking her, he heard her cries and felt her legs squeezing against his head.

“Mulder, ohh my God,” she panted, her fingers pulling at his hair, her legs wrapping around him. “God, I’m gonna come. Ohhhhh Mulderrrrr.” Her fingers in his hair tightened, and she froze as her body spasmed, her legs tight around him as he continued using his mouth on her.

She relaxed her grip on him and her legs loosened on his shoulders. “Mmmmulder. My God. You are … so good at that. Mmmm,” she breathed out raggedly, her fingers running through his hair. He moved, kissing her thighs and sitting back on his knees. Looking up, he saw her eyes were closed, and her robe partially open, her breasts all but exposed.

He reached for the bow on the robe again, untying it, and staring at her breasts. She was so goddamn beautiful. He kissed her thighs again, and up her body, stopping at her breasts to give them some attention before making his way to her mouth. Languidly they kissed, her arms around his neck.

She pulled back and stared at him. “So, you found your answer?” she smirked at him. He kissed her again and pushed his groin into hers making her moan in his mouth.

“I’m a good investigator,” he said against her lips. She hummed and kissed him again, her tongue licking his lips.

“Really, really good,” she emphasized, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer, seething as he rubbed against her.

“Well, if you’re going to do something, you should always do your best,” he whispered in her ear, before pulling back and looking in her eyes. She smiled at him and rubbed her feet against him.

“Agree wholeheartedly. And it only seemed fair to keep you in your apparent state of torturous wondering, as you’ve been doing the same to me all day,” she said, her nails scratching at the base of his neck.

“Me? What have I done?” he inquired, genuinely perplexed.

“This tight white shirt, Mulder,” she whispered, her fingers sliding under the collar. “Goddamn, do you have any idea how hot you look in it? I’ve been wet since we were in Davey’s trailer.”

“Christ, Scully,” he groaned, his head landing on her neck as his knees buckled and he fell into her.  

“I feel it’s best to be honest. And you have been making me crazy with desire all day. Only seemed fair that you got a taste of your own medicine,” she said, smirking to the degree that it could be heard.

“Oh, I got a taste all right,” he said into her neck before nipping at her skin. She yelped and pulled his hair, calling him a bastard. He chuckled and pulled back, looking at her with a grin. She shook her head and smiled.

“So what was your plan to ease the desire you were feeling? Aside from wearing this robe that I feel you should wear every day, just like this,” he said looking down at her naked body on display.

“Hmm, wouldn’t get much work done if I did, as I’d get arrested before I made it there,” she laughed.

“Who said anything about you going to work?” he asked with his eyebrows wiggling. She laughed again and stared at him, her eyes happy and full of love.

“You wondered about my plan?” she asked and he nodded, looking at this woman he loved so much, his ache for her was excruciating. “Well, you remembered to pack your bathing suit in your bag right?” He looked at her, confused, and she smiled a slow, sensual smile. “You remember there’s a hot tub here, right?”

Everything froze as he remembered the last time they had been in a hot tub. The house they rented for a weekend after a long month for her at the hospital. The tiny sapphire two piece suit she wore that night, the feel of her legs tangled with his under the water. The words she said in his ear as she climbed into his lap and his hand slid under the strings to untie her suit, her breasts then pressed to his chest. The way it felt to slide inside her, everything wet and warm around them, and yet she was the wettest and warmest thing he had ever felt.

“God, Mulder,” she groaned, breaking him from those memories. “Where did your mind go? You’re so much harder than a few seconds ago. Oh, Jesus.” She pushed into him and he groaned with her.

“Sapphire bathing suit, Scully. Your tongue in my ear, your breasts against my chest, the feel of you as you broke around me,” he growled in her ear and she whimpered. “If I forgot my suit, what will …”

“Jesus, Mulder, just move,” she cried, pushing him away and standing up unsteadily. She dropped her robe and he shook his head. God, she was so fucking beautiful.

She walked up to him and her hands went to the hem of his shirt, pulling at it and moving it up his chest. When she had it off of him, she put it on the table.

“This is mine now. I’m keeping it,” she informed him, her eyes daring him to say otherwise.

“Whatever you want, Scully,” he agreed, willing to do anything she asked of him.

“Be sure you buy more though,” she said, with a smile and an arch of her eyebrow.

“Oh, I’ve got them already. You think I don’t know? Do you even know me?” He grinned at her and she smacked his chest, her fingers trailing down to the waistband of his pants, then down to the bulge held within. She squeezed and he moaned.

“Oh, I know you. Let’s get these clothes off, no more fucking around,” she said squeezing him again.

“Well, some fucking around, surely,” he teased, getting his pants, socks, and boxers off, before standing up to look at her. She reached out and stroked him, making him gasp. His eyes closed as she quickened her strokes.

“Scully … you need to stop or I’m going to take you on this table,” he moaned as he stopped her hand. She grinned and moved her hand, taking his instead and pulling him toward the backyard.

No preamble, no denying exactly why they were coming outside, they climbed in the hot tub. Each of them hissing at the heat of the water, they sank down and he pulled her to him. She straddled him, his dick trapped between their bodies as she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her breasts pushing into his chest.

He dug his fingers into her hips and then down to her ass, lifting her up, silently asking her for what he wanted. She raised up, breaking from their kiss as she did. Up on her knees, she guided him inside her, causing them both to moan.

“Jesus, Scully,” he whispered and she hummed in agreement. “God, you feel so good.” She raised up again and began to ride him, his hands on her ass, helping her to move.

“Mulder, fuck,” she cried out, raising all the way up, forcing him to leave her body. They both groaned before she lined them up again, sinking down hard onto him. She went faster and he watched her breasts bouncing as she did.

“Mulder, oh my God,” she breathed, slowing down, sitting with him completely sheathed inside her, and he nearly came with the feel of her tight around him.

He moved a hand to touch her, his thumb on her clit, as she started to move again, gasping at his touch. He wanted her to come again, feeling his own orgasm building.

“Mulder, yes, keep doing that,” she moaned and slid faster up and down his length, making him moan her name. “God, I’m so close. Faster, Mulder.” He obliged her and she cried out as she fell into him, her hands gripping his shoulders, as she tightened and pulsed around him. He thrust into her hard, his feet pushing on the bottom of the hot tub, and he came calling her name.

They clung to each other as they recovered. He ran his hands up and down her back, into her hair, and back down. “Oh, Mulder,” she breathed into his neck, before raising her head and looking at him. He pushed her hair back from her face and grinned at her. She closed her eyes and tilted toward his hand.  

She moved up and his softening member slipped from inside her, but she remained on his lap, her arms around his neck. He hummed as he wrapped his arms around her and they sat together in the warm water.

“God, Mulder,” she said again and he exhaled a laugh.

“I concur, Scully. I concur.”

They sat in the hot tub for a little bit longer before climbing out, both of them pink and flushed from both the water and the activities that had taken place while inside it. Realizing they brought no towels with them, they laughingly dripped and slid down the hall to her bathroom where they wrapped fluffy towels around themselves. He kissed her, a great big smacking loud one, as they walked out of the bathroom.

Together they cleared up the leftover Chinese food, blew out the candles, and washed the dishes. She turned out the lights and set the alarm, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

“Tight white t-shirt, remember? I’m not done with you yet,” she said as she grabbed the top of his towel, where it hung low on his hips, and pulled him toward her bedroom.

She made good on her word, she was most definitely not done with him. Hours later, exhaustingly sated, she snuggled into his arms. He held her close and closed his eyes. He kissed her temple, breathing in the scent from the shower they shared, the chlorine that still lingered, and the undeniable scent that was simply Scully. He took a deep breath and fell asleep, his body spent, but his heart full.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Kitten #Even more sexy sexy times #That tight white t-shirt #I swear to god #How could Scully not be thinking some very impure thoughts? #These two are just... hot hot hot.

[spnfanficpond]

January 2020 Pond LiveChat Recap - Writing RPF

We had a great time chatting with Taylor,  @impalaimagining​! Thank you so much for joining us and sharing your thoughts and experience!

Our topic this month was Writing RPF, and we talked about the legal, moral, and emotional aspects of writing about real people.  A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond news, is below the cut!

We started off the chat with the legal side of things, most of which was covered back when we talked about Monetizing Fan Works back in May. Here are the related links that were brought up:

Wikipedia: Legal issues with fan fiction (The section dealing with RPF is near the bottom under Right of Publicity.) Boiled down, RPF has to deal with a celebrity's Right of Publicity. Famous people have the right to control the commercial use of their name, image, and likeness, sometimes even their broader identity or persona. Most states’ laws on this only apply to uses for commercial gain. So, don't try to get paid directly for RPF, and you're safe.

From NPR: We Stan: Real Person Fan Fiction Comes To Life. This is a fascinating discussion about RPF, the legalities, and how it’s been changing in recent years. This argues that basically since “fiction” is right there in the name, RPF is inherently more legal than regular fan fiction based off of characters. No one is trying to say that the real people involved are actually doing these things, it’s just fiction.

Goodreads Genre: Fan Fiction - Real Person Fiction. When I was researching, this link came up, and I clicked it, not knowing what to expect. Finding that Fan fiction, much less RPF is on Goodreads was surprising to me. (I thought Goodreads was only about books that could be purchased and didn’t touch “unpublished” works, but I guess not?) What I found most interesting was exactly how many of the titles listed on that page are J2-related. There are more J2-related titles than all of the others COMBINED. As a fandom, we rock!

The discussion started with most folks saying they hadn’t considered the legalities of fan fiction, or RPF in particular, when they began writing. Their first concern was just getting the story out of their head and onto the paper. Also, since no one was getting paid for it and it’s so popular, no one questioned the legalities. Also, since it’s fiction, there’s no defamation of character.

@mrswhozeewhatsis​ (Michelle): Most people know that I generally don’t read RPF, unless it’s an AU. Way way way back, when I first started reading fan fiction, I used to read the occasional RPF. Honestly, before SPN, I never really liked an actor enough to want to know more about them. (I've been burned by some jerk actors in the past.) One of the first RPFs I ever read was from Jared's POV, and it contained a scene where he was on stage at a con, and detailed his thoughts. I forget what the inciting incident was, but suddenly he was thinking, "Great, now they're all thinking about how big my dick is," and it made him spiral. Something about that stuck with me, to the point that I cringe every time I see Jared on stage and anything remotely sexual comes up. That's pretty much what stopped me from reading RPF. I have no problem thinking about how big Sam's dick is, but I can't ponder too much about Jared's dick, or I can't look him in the eye when I see him at cons!!!

Taylor: I definitely think there is a very fine line to be walked when you write RPF, and I generally don't cross into the area of writing from an actor's POV.

Q: Is that how you keep it separate so you don’t stare into their faces at a con during a photo op and think about the smut you wrote about them?

Taylor: It can be hard to keep it separate sometimes but it's actually very easy in the moment of a split second photo op. They move so quickly, I don't genuinely think I have ever had the time to consider the things I've written about them while I was talking to and hugging them!

Q: Anyone else who doesn’t read/write RPF, do you think that the whole not being able to look them in the eye is an internal thing for anyone in your life, or just celebs? 

@manawhaat​ (Mana): For example, I have A. FUCKING. LOT. of sex dreams. With tons of people, celebs and people I know in my real life... and I don't want to say that it's jaded me as far as thinking sexual thoughts about people, but in a way it kind of has. I don't have that moral dilemma of not being able to look Jared in the eye after thinking about his dick.  Taylor: I completely agree. I think writing it has made me kind of impervious to it bleeding into my daily life. I see Jared and my heart goes ohmygodwelovehim first and in person, then later when he's not around is when the wowowowbutwhatabouthisdick comes in. Michelle: I don’t think I could write about anyone in a smutty way. Just characters.

Q: I wanted to talk about 'characterization' of rpf. Do other rpf writers out there think of the people as characters and treat them that way, or do you humanize them? Idk if that question makes sense but it's along the same lines of keeping them separate. 

@fogsrollingin​ (Alex): I cast them in other stories when it's rpf. I always write rpf AUs with only a couple exceptions. We know their onscreen mannerisms, so making them astronauts terraforming a new planet with evil aliens on it is like "oh easy". Taylor: Characterization is huge for me. If someone writes an actor outside of the way they portray themselves, it's impossible for me to read. While we don't know these people personally, we know how they act outwardly and in the public eye, and that's enough to get a good idea of the kind of person they would be.  Michelle: I have no trouble reading AUs, because it's just another character who happens to look like and have the name of one of my favorite actors. In AUs, they're characters. If they are actors on a show called Supernatural, then it's too humanizing for me. Taylor: See, Michelle, my mind can't separate it to that degree. If I'm reading about someone named Jared who looks like our Jared? It's Jared. AUs give me a lot of trouble, to be honest.  Both writing and reading. Alex: I feel like it's no different than if Jared did a scifi movie during his summer break from spn & it's so low budget they just kept his real name for his character name.

Q: Do you feel differently reading ship RPF than reader insert RPF?

Michelle: Most of the RPF stories I read are ships, but I do read some reader inserts, too. It’s not an intentional choice either way. Alex: I don't feel differently about it, rly. I know I prefer reading ships over reader insert but that's just my personal jam. Mana: I have a hard time reading ship rpf mainly because I like the versions of my ships that I've built in my head, so when someone deviates from that it is a little turn off for me. Like, your version of Cockles is not the same as my version, which is totally fine, you do you, but it isn't gonna tickle me the same way ya know. so when I get into like non-mainstream ships it's extra difficult to find writers who represent them in the 'right' ways. Taylor: I feel that way about pretty much everything I read, and I think that has a lot to do with the whole characterization piece of it. I know that my idea of and the way I portray Jared or Jensen is probably a million times different than the way other people, including my readers, think of them. I try really hard to make sure the way the actors come across is "right". Mana: I think the one big piece of characterization is kind of using the way they have presented themselves as a moral compass. Obviously they don't present their whole selves so there's always wiggle room and areas where you are free to project your ideas of them into the fic, but that's also the trickiest area and where so many people drop the ball.  Taylor: YES. So, so many people take that wiggle room and take it leaps and bounds beyond what is public (fandom) knowledge. 

Q: How do you feel about RPFs that support certain theories about the wives being beards and such?

Mana: I try to not write anything that would feel as if I'm slandering anyone, etc. I wouldn't want to write a Jensen x reader fic where Danneel cheats on him and that's how they get together. If I mention it at all I just say that they've peacefully and amicably parted ways. If I don't mention it then they simply don't exist in the timeline. But never anything negative about anyone, especially the wives.  @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ (Kaisha): I don't write smut (only read) so I have a very different interpretation on a lot of the things being discussed. I tend to stick with non-AU, sister/daughter!reader insert RPF fics because I don't feel creative enough branch out beyond that. I feel the same as Mana, and I actually won't read fics that are based on the premise that someone cheated for the storyline to work. Alex: I'm okay if ppl deviate far into fantasy realms tho. As long as it's not too support a real life conspiracy theory about the actors, if ppl wanna write it & others like it, all the more power to them. I mean as long as you're like "I killed the wives during the zombie apocalypse in my fic but I love them in real life please don't kill me" I'm like "cool". Taylor: I avoid bashing fics or beard fics. Admittedly I have one where Jensen and Danneel never got married, but they still had a daughter together and Danneel hid the kid from him until her 5th birthday. That doesn't feel like a bash/slander fic to me because I'm not painting anyone as a bad person - things just played out differently. 

Q: The person who suggested this topic mentioned “how to write your first RPF.” Any suggestions?

Michelle: Have Mana finish it for you! (The only one I’ve ever written, she had to finish for me!) Alex: My first rpf was a ballerina!Jared & yogi!Misha romcom. It was so goofy! Taylor: I don't know if I can even answer that question. It literally just poured out of me when I started. I took the tiny little idea I had in my head (my daydream, as it was previously and so aptly named), and put it into words and it ended up being a 10 part series. Mana: How to write your first rpf: READ RPF FROM A LOT OF DIFFERENT WRITERS. find what works for you and for the people you're writing about. do a couple of trial runs with shorter fics. you have room to play, but try not to stray too far from what they've presented themselves as in real life. Kaisha: For me, when I wrote my first RPF (which was also my first fic), I was in a mental place where I was watching a lot of con videos and reading a lot of sister/daughter fics. It was more "I need an outlet for how I am feeling right now and I don't have anyone to talk to"...so I talked to the image of the boys I had made in my head from what I saw of them online.

Q: Does character shipping affect the RPFs you read? Like, if your OTP is Destiel, do you mainly only read Cockles?

Kaisha: I will read almost anything that's related to one of the Js, either RPF or SPN. But I don't have strong ship feels one way or another that changes what I read/write for RPF. Taylor: I don't know if character ships have any kind of effect on RPF ships. Because there are a lot more people involved in cons than we see on the show, and cons are my primary source of RPF inspiration. Like, we see Henry, what, twice in the show? But Gil McKinney is a whole other story. He's all over the convention circuit (or at least he used to be) and also all over fandom twitter. It just feels easier for me to write RPF because I see these actors in my real life, interacting with other real people. I have interacted with them, which makes things feel a lot more real than writing about two hot fictional dudes from my TV screen. Alex: I'm definitely up for Sam/Dean as much as I'm up for J2. Oddly tho it's Mishalecki at real life con panels that's gotten me totally happy to write/read Mishalecki.

Q: (From Taylor) The piece of RPF I struggle with the most is bringing events from the actors' real lives into my stories. Writing about Jensen and the brewery, about their kids and stories they tell about them at cons, that's where my already grey area turns even more grey. 

Kaisha: I am right there with you Taylor! My fic started as mostly the reader and JJ interacting and then I remember the twins existed, too. And with my new fic I am trying to figure out if the San Jac and FBBC will work in or not. Mana: I'm interested in this, because I don't seem to have that issue or gray area. It just doesn't exist for me and I'd like to hear more about it from you guys. Taylor: It's so hard haha. I have something coming up that deals with Jared being arrested and of course I didn't post it before that whole event went down so now it looks like I'm taking that part of his life and twisting it for my personal fiction needs. Which feels kinda (adult word for "not good").  Kaisha: For me the gray area thing is because I want to write a believable story. A believable story has realistic details and if I am ignoring or overlooking things that my audience knows to be true, I feel it takes them out of the story. Mana: So it's a case of omit it entirely or commit to it entirely? I ask in regards to like FBBC and the kids. Do you feel differently about incorporating those aspects into your fics? would you be more comfortable writing about fbbc than you would the kids? Or does that gray area cover the same on both? Kaisha: The same thing goes for when I beta read something. A detail that I don't remember or agree with will take me out of the story and send me on a research rabbit trail to know if the author is correct with what they said. I want to stay in the story as much as possible and I want that for my readers too. That's probably a good way to differentiate it. If I state in the A/N that J1 only has 1 kid, then I don't have to consider what year the story is occurring in. But if I tell you it's non-AU, well then everything that is happening in our universe should be happening in my story (otherwise, it would be AU, even to the slightest degree). The kids vs. FBBC thing I think could be very personal on which someone feels more comfortable with. I say that because I know ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING about alcohol. Kids on the other hand I get. Taylor: For me it's the same. Just, actual concrete aspects of Jensen's life are harder for me to write about. Because then - again, just for me - that feels like writing from their point of view, which is something I try to avoid.

Q: Do any of you read/write RPF outside of SPN?

Taylor: SPN is my only fandom. Michelle: I tried to read fics from other fandoms, and just couldn’t get into it. I might be getting sucked into The Witcher fandom, though. Haven’t found any Geralt fics that really align with my image of him, though. Alex: There are CW network RPF AUs I read. Taylor: I feel like, as SPN fans, we have a wonderful privilege and incredible pool of writers to choose from when we want to read. I don't know, because like I said SPN is my only fandom, if any other fandom has this level of talent or dedication.

Q: Have you ever read an RPF fic that changed the way you viewed an actor? Or given you a sense of gained insight into their lives?

Michelle: That's actually why I don't read “canon-compliant” RPF, actually. Because then I might think that idea is real, and won't see that it's not, even when proven wrong. Like, maybe Jared actually loves it when we think about how big his dick is? But I can't stop thinking that it embarrasses him and makes him uncomfortable because I read it in that one fic. Kaisha: @crashdevlin​  has a Jensen x reader series that also heavily features Tom Hiddleston. My view of Tom has forever been changed because of her story!  Michelle: My brain is very malleable. Sometimes, I'm so open-minded, my brain falls right out. I have to be careful what I let influence me. Kaisha: It wasn't something that I intended to happen. Crash just wrote a very compelling character and I think my opinion would have been altered no matter who it was that she used as the face. Taylor: I've never read anything that has changed the way I view the actors. I've certainly read things that have given me new ideas about the things they enjoy (bitey and/or rough smut), but nothing that's changed the way they appear in my mind. I think the biggest part of all of this is just remembering that all of this is 100% FICTION and should never be taken as reality in any way, shape, or form.

To close out the chat, Mana requested fic recs! Here are the recs that were mentioned:

Michelle: If you're into serial killer AUs, There's a J2 AU in my AO3 bookmarks that's genius. Adoration. The other RPF bookmark I have is called Beholder. Jared runs an animal shelter, and Jensen is a homeless man with a TBI who gets dumped at the shelter one night.

Alex: My favorite rpf fic is Tails by keep_waking_up. Werefox!Jared & kitsune!Jensen law enforcement murder mystery AU.

Taylor: One of my favorites to read is by @thecleverdame​: Modern Technology. (Jared x reader) This is unfinished but it's quickly becoming one of my favorite Jensen-things I've ever written, AND IT'S AN AU!!! Rockabye. Also, there’s You Saved Me (Jared x Reader). And have a J2 x Reader for funsies! Something is Happening

Kaisha: This is my favorite RPF. Underneath verse (series) - J2 -  Jensen is the undercover FBI agent sent to take out Jared, the boss of Chicago. #Self-promo, but I am pretty proud of this one, too: Nanny, Sister, Daughter...Family (Jenneel with sorta daughter!reader)

Mana: Here’s the Cockles x Reader fic that Michelle and I wrote: Rumor Has It And, of course, (Jenneel x Reader) Fools In Love.

Feel free to reblog with your favorite RPF fics!!

Also, the February LiveChat info is still TBD. Feel free to send in your topic ideas and suggest guest speakers!!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever! Next up is organizing the tagging system on the blog to make it easier for readers to find the stories they’re interesting in and for writers to find the help they’re looking for!

Reminders:

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work!  IF YOU HAVE SENT IN A NOMINATION, BUT HAVE NOT RECEIVED A PRIVATE MESSAGE CONFIRMING WE RECEIVED IT, WE DIDN’T GET IT. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

Say hi to December’s New Members and January’s New Members! (If we missed someone, let us know!)

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the Skype chat room/discord general channel and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details!  The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

We’re getting lots of requests for more Big Fish, lately, but so far, only one applicant! If you know someone you think would be a good Big Fish, tell them to apply!!

#chat recap #spnfanficpond livechat #michelle answers #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #sn fan fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #spn fic rec #supernatural fic rec #chat room #let's chat #THE CHAT ROOM #pond chat #RPF #spn rpf #supernatural rpf

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch9: You Just Keep On Giving

Summary: Katie and Coulson’s team head off in an attempt to track down the missing Asgardian staff whilst Steve confronts Fury about his actions. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Smut (NSFW)  over 18s only thanks. LANGUAGE!!

Flashbacks depicted in italics.

November 2013

Steve was sat on his couch when Katie called. Smiling he accepted the face time and she beamed at him.

“Hey handsome.” she smiled “Am I glad to see your face.” “You’ve only been gone a few hours.” he chuckled.

“7, actually.” she pouted “Jerk.” He grinned “7 too long, love. How’s it going?” “Ok, we’re heading out tomorrow to speak to a professor I took some advice from when Thor was first on Earth. He’s based in Seville so not too far away.” “Tour of Europe, nice.” “Be nicer if you were here.” she sighed

“Wish I was. The team ok?” he asked, leaning back.

“Well I know all of them bar 1.” Katie said “And like all of them bar 1”

Steve laughed “They made a good first impression then?” “Oh, it’s not the one I don’t know that I don’t like.” she paused, before letting out a groan and wrinkling up her freckle spattered nose “Fucking Ward is here.” Steve frowned and sat up, swallowing the anger rising from his chest “What?” “Yeah, apparently his post was one with Coulson’s mobile team. Go figure.” “Son of a…” Steve was mad, really mad. First off Fury had sprung Coulson on his girl, and now this. He looked at her as she shook her head, shrugging “You could always come home.” he suggested, even though he knew she wouldn’t.

“I’m involved now.” she said, “might as well see it through. And as much of a dickhead he is, he’s a good agent so…” “I’m not sure I like you being cooped up in so close proximity to him.” Steve sighed, and as her eyes narrowed he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

Katie frowned “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t you trust me?” “Of course I do.” he placated, cursing himself. And he did. He trusted her implicitly “I just know how much he upset you and I don’t like him.”

Katie laughed at his somewhat childish answer and he was pleased to see the anger in her face dissipating. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m over him now.” “I wish I was over you…” Steve said, smirking and she gave a shocked gasp.

“Captain Badass! How rude…” He laughed and then sighed “But I mean it. If he steps a toe outta line, I’ll be on a jet straight over to break his nose, again.”

Katie smirked “You didn’t break it last time, that was Tony remember?”

Remember? How could he forget?

They’d were at a bar, Tony was in town and Lawson’s band had been playing so they had gone out for a few beers. And then he’d shown up, again. Steve and Katie had spent most of the night trying to keep Tony calm and away from him, and now by some sick twist of fate Steve unfortunately, found himself next to Ward at the bar as he waited to get another round of drinks in whilst Tony and Natasha were at a table by the dance floor. Ward was watching Katie whilst she danced with Clint as the archer twirled her effortlessly round the floor as the post-band DJ continued to play. Steve didn’t miss the way her ex boy-friend’s eyes travelled down her body and backup again and he felt himself bristle as he watched the man, blatantly ogling his girl. It wasn’t alien, she turned heads wherever but the fact it was her ex riled him big time, especially as this man had treat her like shit, made her feel worthless… Steve hated him for that.

Ward looked up and at least had the grace to look a little sheepish at being caught.

“Sorry Captain…just, well, you have a hell of a woman there.”

Steve looked at the man, his voice low and emotionless “I know.”

“Biggest regret I have is how I treated her.” Ward sighed, taking a drink from his glass. “I was a jerk.”

“No arguments here.” Steve muttered, a bit louder than he had intended as the bar tender approached with his order. Steve paid and picked up his bottle to take a swig whilst waiting for his change, only to find Ward talking to him again.

“She was a demon in the sack too, as you’ll know…” Ward said, looking straight ahead, a smirk on his face. Steve paused, bottle raised to his mouth. Was this asshole actually going there?

“I’ve no idea why I went looking elsewhere.” Ward continued, before he turned to look at Steve, “The things she can do with her mouth and-“

“That’s enough.” Steve said, his voice was loaded with anger as he slammed the bottle down on the counter causing it to shatter, sending its contents flying over the surface along with shards of glass as he turned his head to look at Ward, ignoring the bar tenders squeak of shock. As Steve stood up straight and glared at the man, who was an inch or so shorter than he was, he knew he’d risen to the ridiculous goading and given Ward the reaction he wanted, but right now what he wanted was to smash the fucker’s face straight down into the pool of beer that was gathered on the surface below and watch as his nose broke.

But he didn’t get chance, as at that moment a whirl of grey blazer and dark jeans flew in between them both and suddenly Ward was on the floor. 

Tony had punched him straight in the face.

“Man I’ve been waiting to do that for years…” Tony said, shaking out his fist as he glanced down at Ward.

“You broke my nose…” Ward said as he stood up, shrugging off Rollins who had helped him to his feet. “Yeah well you broke my sister’s heart” Tony snarled back as Natasha stepped in front of him, both hands on her chest pushing him away. “Sue me.”

“What is going on?” a loud voice said to their side and all 3 men turned to see Katie stood there, Clint at her side, a blank expression on her face as her eyes locked onto Tony’s.

“Your brother just punched me.” Ward said, wiping at his bloodied face.

"yeah I saw that. " She said, eyes still on Tony "Why?”

“Because he’s a dick.” Tony said simply “And he was picking a fight with Spangles. Thought I’d get in there first…”

Katie looked at Steve who gave her a raise of his eyebrows in confirmation before she tuned to look at Tony again.

“You were protecting Captain America…” Katie said, her lips twitching slightly.

Tony shrugged “That and I just really wanted to hit him.” “Come on guys…” the bar tender said lightly “I don’t want to have to ask any of you to leave…”

“You never did like me, did you Tony?” Ward wiped again at his nose, spatters of blood landing all over his shirt.

“No.” Tony deadpanned simply, picking at something on his sleeve.

“Time to go Ward…” Rollins said, patting Ward’s chest. Ward shot one last look at the group before turning to go.

“Ok, nothing to see here…move it a long…” Clint said as the crowd that had gathered dissipated and the volume level of the club returned to normal.

Tony groaned, shaking out his right hand. “Jesus that hurt.” “Let me see…” Natasha said, turning to Tony as Clint announced that the fact Ward had his nose splattered across his face called for a celebratory round of chasers, turning to the bar.

Steve stepped towards his girl and gently placed a hand in the small of her back and she turned to look at him, breaking her gaze from the door Ward had left through.

“So what did he say to you to make you lose it?” She said gently.

“I didn’t lose it, Tony was the one that punched him” he said someone childishly.

Katie raised an eyebrow “Oh, and did Tony smash that bottle all over the bar?” “You saw that?” Steve wrinkled his nose, sheepishly.

She nodded. “What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter” he said softly.

“Let me guess, ‘she was amazing in bed…’” she mimicked a deep voice “’she can do amazing things with her hands…mouth…pick a hole’” Steve flushed bright red, which was answer in itself as she shook her head. 

“So predictable.” Katie said, her eyes not once leaving Steve’s “You know he was doing it on purpose, to get a rise out of you. And it worked.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighed, reaching out and gently grabbing her hips, pulling her to him. “I just…I didn’t like him talking about you like that, I wouldn’t like anyone talking about you like that.” He saw Katie’s mouth twitch at the side as her hands gently wrapped around his upper arms. ”My hero.”

He let out a huff of a laugh and was about to, once again, point out that it was Tony who had landed the blow when the Inventor reminded them himself.

“Jesus you are a sadist!” Tony was pulling his hand away from where Nat had pressed a towel wrapped around a load of ice to his knuckles.

“Quite being a baby.” she said airily as Tony glared at her, holding his hand to his chest.

“To be fair to Tony…” Steve said, grinning at the memory as he looked at the screen of his StarkPhone “It was a pretty good punch.” Katie sniggered and looked up as Steve heard a knock on her door. “Yeah?” A voice from off screen spoke. “Hey, we’re meeting for some food and a few beers if you wanna…” “Yeah I’ll be with you in a sec…” “Are you talking to him?” the voice gained pitch and Steve arched an eyebrow letting out a soft sigh.

Katie laughed “Yeah, hey Stevie…you got a fan.” she said looking at him before he turned the phone round and Steve saw a small woman, leaning in the doorway, long, dark hair tucked behind her ears. He rubbed his neck slightly embarrassed and waved.

“Hi…” “Skye, Steve, Steve, Skye…” “Nice to meet you Skye…well, talk to you…” “You too Cap.” she grinned as Katie turned the phone round. “I’ll see you down there.”

Katie nodded as she shut the door.

“That was the newbie.” she said to Steve who smiled at her. “She seems nice.” Steve nodded. “I’ll let you go get some food, I know how you get when you don’t eat.”

“Oh hello kettle, this is Steve Rogers here. You're black” she said sarcastically making him laugh loudly “You’re the king of hanger.” “And that makes you the queen of hanger by default so…”

“Smart ass.” she said after a pause, “I better go, I’ll message you later.”

“Love you.” he smiled at her. “Love you too.” she said, before adding with a sarcastic grin “My king…”

***** Katie had no idea where the food came from but she didn’t care. A big, greasy bacon cheeseburger with a side of loaded fries really hit the spot, especially alongside a large glass of Aviation gin.

As they ate they talked and Fitz, who was bouncing on his chair eventually lost his composure and leant forward.

“So…I’m sorry…and May told me not to ask but I have to… what’s it like dating Captain America?” Katie gave a huff as she swallowed down her food. “I wouldn’t know.” she said “I’m dating Steve Rogers.”

"I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”  Fitz stuttered as May threw him a filthy look whilst Simmons hit him on the arm.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” she smiled “I just… well, there’s far more to him than the shield and the stars and stripes….he’s the kindest, gentlest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”

Ward shifted in his seat and whilst Katie didn’t look at him, the movement didn’t go unnoticed.

“But, isn’t he like, dead old fashioned?” Skye asked. “Being like nearly a hundred…” “Not really.” Katie said, shrugging “I mean he has a few little quirks, but he’s adapted quite well all things considered”

“How is he?” Coulson asked “I mean, I’ve not seen him since…well, I died.” “He’s good.” Katie smiled “He’s fit right in to SHIELD and…he’s happy, we’re happy.”

“Oh that’s so sweet!” Simmons gushed.

“An Avengers love story…” Fitz sighed. “Man, wish I could be an Avenger…”

"What would your super power be?” Ward snorted, knocking back his scotch “Boring everyone to death with algorithms?” “You do know that there’s only actually 3 out of the 7 of us that a super power of sorts.” Katie said simply, shooting Ward a glare before she turned to Fitz “Steve, Dr Banner and Thor. The rest of us rely on training or technology…” “So you’re saying I have a chance?” Fitz grinned causing the rest of the table to laugh or snort.

“Never give up on your dreams.”  May deadpanned, causing the table to laugh.  

They continued chatting and attacked their food before Skye continued questioning

“We’re all dying to know…” she looked at Katie “What was AC like as an SO?” Coulson groaned and Katie laughed, swallowing the rest of her burger “He was the best.” she smirked, “although to be fair, once I started training as a Field Op, my real SO was Hawkeye.” “Now HE is dreamy…” Simmons said “all dark and broody and…arrowy…” “Arrowy?” Skye snorted “that isn’t even a word…”

“He’ll love that!” Katie said, laughing “Arrowy...”

Coulson stood up, gesturing round the table as people had finished drinks and he headed to the bar to get more, Fitz and Ward following to help.

“So how did you end up joining SHIELD?” Katie looked at Skye.

“I hacked them.” She shrugged “I was trailing some guy who had taken some extremis serum and blew their cover.”

“You’d get on very well with my brother.” Katie snorted “He hacks SHIELD for fun.” “Still?” Coulson asked as he placed another drink down in front of her.

She nodded “Much to Fury’s annoyance...”

She trailed off slightly as she remembered the last time Tony had hacked SHIELD. He’d discovered something that she really wished he hadn’t. SHIELD were conducting experiments on the recovered Chitauri weapons. It had pissed her, Steve and Tony off no end and made her extremely glad the Tesseract had gone back to Asgard with Thor. Meddling with things they didn’t understand never did any good. But more so it was the fact that Fury had declared it was all being destroyed upon recovery. Another lie the Director had spun. And she was getting tired of them. Real tired.

Shaking the thought off she turned her attention to Coulson who was now talking about the task in hand tomorrow. The team came up with a plan about who was going where and when, and then Katie decided she’d had enough. She stood up, bidding the team goodnight.

***** The university was a short drive away from where they had set The Bus down. Coulson drove in his beloved red sports car, Lola. When they arrived they easily navigated their way through to Elliot’s office. As they reached his office door, it swung outwards and Coulson held it open. “I’ll see you later.” Elliot was saying to a dark haired, female student who exited the office with a pile of paper and books clutched in her arm. Elliot looked up, saw them standing there and let out a small exclamation of surprise.

“Oh…”

“Professor Randolph.” Coulson said, shaking his hand.

“Agent Coulson, Agent Stark”

“Good to see you again.” Katie shook his hand.

“Well I never, come in, come in.” “Waterfield 44” Phil said suddenly, and Katie looked at him frowning. It was only when Elliot looked down at the pen in his hand, holding it out for Coulson to take that she realised what he was talking about. “14-Karat gold nib with mother of pearl inlay.” Coulson turned the pen over in his hand before offering it back.

Katie bit back a snort, it sounded like something Tony would own. “That’s quite an eye you’ve got. I didn’t know you were a collector.” Professor Randalph laughed.

“On my wages?” Coulson snorted “I wish.” “Well…” Elliot took the pen back and tucked it in his pocket before looking at them. “I’m assuming you found something on the ground in London…”

“In a tree in Norway.” Coulson added, placing the case containing the printed rod that Fitz had made on the desk, opening it.  ”And unfortunately we weren’t the ones who found it.” Katie added “It’s a 3-D model” Couslon said, handing the item to Elliot who took it, examining it closely. “Oh, that is amazing”

He turned away from them and put the rods symbols under a light to look at them better. “Now, based on these runes,” he said, still looking at it “I’d say I’m looking at a piece of  Berserker Staff.”

Katie smiled as her and Coulson exchanged a look. Even if she said so herself, she was good at this.

“But I think you already know that…”  Elliot looked up as he set the rod down.

“Only suspected.” Katie smiled “My knowledge on it is sketchy, and there are many different theories about it so...”

The Professor stood up and walked over to pull a book off his shelf “Here.” He set the book on the desk and Katie and Coulson looked down at a drawing of a man holding the rod up high over his head, the rod in the book was considerably bigger than the one that was taken out of the tree.  Katie started to read the book as Elliot continued to explain. “The man in question was a solider in the Berserker Army” Professor Randalph spoke “Berserker Army?” Coulson asked “Oh, yeah. A powerful army. Fierce army” Elliot spoke “Berserkers battled like raging beasts, destroying everything in their path. A single Berserker had the strength of 20 warriors”. “So whoever wielded the staff got superhuman strength?” Coulson asked “Fighting with it put the warrior into a state of uncontrollable rage” he replied, picking up the rod and showing it to Coulson.  “The staff contained a very powerful magic”. “The warrior in the story?” Coulson pressed as Katie continued to read, frowning as she spotted something pretty interesting. “He came to Earth to fight,” Elliot said “But he ended up falling in love.”

“With whom?” Coulson asked “With life, on Earth. Humanity” Professor Randalph shrugged   “He fell so much in love that when his army returned to Asgard, he stayed behind.”

“And the staff? He broke it?”

Professor Randalph nodded “He didn’t want its dark magic falling into the wrong hands. So, according to legend he broke it into three pieces and hid each one in a different location.”  “That manuscript wouldn’t happen to say where he hid them, would it?” Coulson asked. “Actually, it does.” Katie spoke, and placed the book down on the desk, pointing at it, smiling. “In three verses.”

“Now, let’s all bear in mind these are poetic abstracts from long-lost ancient texts.”  Elliot said as Katie cleared her throat and began to read.

“So, there is one about a tree, which they’ve found it seems. Another is ‘East of the river, sun overhead, buried in Earth with the bones of the dead.”’

“That’s a bit macabre, isn’t it?” Randalph said, folding his arms as he smiled.

“There’s another one here.” she continued “Well, this one doesn’t even have a rhyme. But the gist of it is “close to God.” That could be anything, couldn’t it?” “Yeah, I was hoping for less metaphor, more longitude and latitude” Coulson sighed. “Well, maybe we should start looking at areas and places located near Viking raid routes” Katie said, an idea coming to her “Being Norse and all…”

“There have been some recent interesting findings of Norse relics on Baffin Island off the coast of Canada” Randalph shrugged “ Yeah, a virtual treasure trove of new artefacts.”

“Well, we’ll check it out. Thank you for your time Professor.” Coulson said, reaching out to shake his hand. Steve and I also did the same and followed him out of the university

“So AC, Baffin Island?” Katie said as they climbed back into Lola.

“Did you know there’s Mount Thor on Baffin Island?” Coulson said, starting up the car as Katie shut the passenger door.

“Really?” “Yeah, and do you know what’s not on Mount Thor?” Coulson asked “Anything Asgardian at all. Our agents on the ground combed over it when all these Norse relics turned up. Didn’t find a thing”

***** “So like you’re a Mission Analyst.” Skye looked at Katie, across the table of the Planning Room

“Yeah”

“And a sniper with STRIKE?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re also an Avenger…”

“Yeah.” Katie muttered, not looking up from the screen she was studying, “Although what we’re avenging now that Coulson isn’t actually dead I don’t know…”

She peered closer at the screen and moved the map 180 degrees using her hand.

“Pretty intense.” Skye said.

“Yeah it can be.” Katie smiled, staring back at the map. She’d been running an analysis on the Viking Routes in Europe and she was missing something. But she couldn’t think what. And then one highlighted on the map in yellow caught her eye. She tapped in closer, and frowned. “Now that’s interesting…”

She thought for a moment, and then ran another quick search on something, her mind working ten to the dozen.

“What have we got?” Coulson asked as he walked into the room with Ward. Katie looked up and was about to speak but Skye beat her to it.

"Nystorm’s deep-web message boards are just abuzz with psychos”

She moved her hand over the screen so that it activated the hologram display functionality in the middle of the table, various messages scrolling across the bottom part. “They believe they’re gonna ascend to be the Gods of destruction and death. People suck, sir.” “That’s your progress, “people suck”?” Ward looked at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. Katie felt the corner of her mouth twitch up slightly. “These people do.” Skye insisted “And there’s also chatter about going underground.”

“Could be going incognito or – “ Ward started “ Or searching for the next piece.” Coulson said turning to Katie “You said about checking Viking routes. Find anything?” “Matter of fact I did.” She said, clicking on her mouse to send the map to the holoview.  “There are some sites along the Volga River in Russia, some in Kiev, and weirdly, here.” She hovered the curser over the map on her screen, zooming into show a map of Seville.

“In Seville, Spain?” Coulson said, frowning. “It’s a long shot, but Vikings ransacked Seville twice.” she said, “Or so the history books tell us.” At that point the search she was running stopped and something flashed up.

“There…” Katie said, “That’s a promising location. Viking Relics found at El Divino Nino, a church would you believe it. ”

“Built on the ruins of an 8th century crypt.” Agent May said as she walked into the room “It’s a tourist attraction” she explained as everyone turned to look at her.

“Which in turn was built on Roman ruins from 206 B.C.” Katie said, reading off the screen. “It’s East of a river.” Ward said, leaning on the back of her chair to look at the map over her shoulder. Katie rolled her eyes, he didn’t need to do that, he could have looked at the holodisplay.

“Crypt could be underground…” Sky offered.

“And lots of bones…” Katie shrugged.

Coulson nodded “Ok, Let’s see what we can dig up. See what I did there?”

“I’m glad dying and rising again didn’t change your sense of humour AC.” Katie said, grinning at him “It’s still crap.” *****

 “Must be nice, have a mandatory nap time” Fitz said, looking out of the van. Katie, Coulson and Fitz were providing support up top, whilst Skye and Ward investigated the crypts.  It was the middle of the day, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Siesta isn’t mandatory, just very pleasant” Coulson replied, before he spoke into the comms device. “How you doing, Agent Ward?”

“Wishing I was shorter.” His voice responded, “Nothing yet. All my readings are normal”

“What about you Skye? Any luck?

“I’m lucky Ward volunteered to take the super creepy hallways instead of the slightly less creepy dungeon room place” Sky responded.

At that point the tablet that Fitz was holding pinged and all 3 of them shifted to look at it.

“I got nothing. Sorry, nada.” Sky continued. “Ward,” Fitz’s said, looking down at the tablet. “Your spectrograph is reading something near you.” “ I don’t see anything”. Ward replied “Well, it’s right in front of you. Oh, wait. No. Uh, okay, hold on. It’s moving – northwest”

The three of them watched the dot on the screen.

There was a pause and then suddenly Ward responded, his voice now excited.

“Visual Contact…”

“Ward, turn left.” Fitz said, reading off the screen.

After a moment or so they heard another voice that wasn’t Ward, before he finally spoke again.

“Yeah, I just ran into some unexpected…”

But he trailed off. The three of them sat up straight as they heard some kind of strange, low rumbling noise and then there was a groan of pain, a grunt and silence.

“Ward, what’s happening?” Coulson asked as, Fitz let out a groan. “His device just went down” Fitz said, tilting the tablet so we could all see it.

“Skye can you get…” Coulson started to say but he was cut off by her reply “Already on it.”

There were a few moments of silence, where Katie nervously nibbled on her lip. She hated this, not knowing what was going on was always the shittest bit of not being in the middle of the action.

“Somethings wrong with Agent Ward.” Skye replied a few minutes later “The staff’s gone, someone took it.”

“Shit.” Katie said as Coulson looked at her, then to Fitz, before he stepped out of the SUV, Katie following.

“He can’t just disappear.” Coulson said, turning in the street “He’ll have to turn up some –“

Then they heard someone yelling from behind them and a loud whishing noise.

“Where…” Coulson finished as they both turned round to see a car being tossed into the street, landing on its roof.

“There we go. A block South of the Church.” Fitz spoke in their ears.

The pair of them started in that direction, running across the street. As they rounded the corner they spotted Professor Randalph who was picking books up and putting them inside his bag. Katie exchanged a glance with Coulson and he shrugged at her before the pair of them strode over to where the Professor was stooped. He glanced up at them and then sighed, sitting down hard on the pavement.

“Professor.” Coulson stated as Katie folded her arms

“I screwed up.” Professor Randalph said simply.

***** “One of my men is hurt, the staff is gone.” Coulson spoke, sitting at the table opposite Elliot as Katie and Agent May watched from Coulson’s office. “I didn’t want any of that to happen.” the professor sighed.

“What did you want?” Coulson asked “The staff’s power for yourself?”

“Nothing like that.” Elliot shook his head earnestly “You know, I just wanted to be the first to study it. To prove that the Berserkers were actually here, a part of history. You think about that.” “ Oh, I’m thinking about it.” Coulson replied. “How’d they find it?” “I have no idea.” Elliot laughed “They may have the original texts. I wasn’t involved. You know, it was just a chance to uncover something that the Gods brought down from the heavens. “Aliens brought it. From space” Coulson said. Katie smiled as she thought about how Thor would respond to being called an alien. “I’ve spent some one-on-one time with aliens before. Didn’t work out too well.”

“Understatement of the century…” Katie muttered, drawing a glimmer of a smirk from May.

“So cases like this are personal to me.” Coulson concluded. “That’s all I know” Elliot, placed his hands flat on the table and sighed. Coulson stood up and made his way to the door before paused and looked back. “Get comfortable.” and the door to the cell slammed shut.

“What you think?” Katie turned to May, who was stood her arms crossed. She pondered for a moment, opened her mouth but was cut off.

“Agent May…” Fitz appeared in the doorway “Ward’s… well he’s not well, he’s gone down to the cargo bay, won’t let me treat him.”

She nodded and looked back to Katie

.“Oh no.” Katie snorted “My days of dealing with his tantrums are over.”

“Thought I’d ask.” she said, smirking slightly. Katie waved her off and returned to looking at the screen. Elliot was sat still at the table, looking around the room in mild amusement, not the demeanour of a man who was concerned or phased in the slightest, which puzzled her slightly. In his shoes, she’d be extremely uncomfortable in a cell, being quizzed by a Government body on some kind of extra-terrestrial item.

She turned to face Coulson as he walked into the room.

“You don’t think he does want the power for himself, do you?” Katie looked at him. It was more a statement than a question.

“I don’t know… there’s something not quite right.” Phil said, sinking into the chair behind his desk.

“He’s too confident” Katie said, “Look at him. He’s not phased in the slightest."

They both glanced at the screen. Now their ‘prisoner’ was sat on his chair, tilting backwards so the front two legs were off the floor. A sudden wild theory sprang into Katie’s head and she turned to AC.

“You know, he didn’t even flinch when you said you’d spent time with Aliens, normally that would make someone kinda curious right?”

“Normally, yes” Phil said, leaning back in his chair.

“And how did he know how to get that second piece?” Katie said, “Do you think he figured it out as fast as we did or..."

“Did he know where to find it, because he hid it in the first place?”  Coulson finished her sentence. Katie shrugged, smiling. “See Nova, that is why I wanted you here."

“A moment, sir?”  they both looked up to see Ward stood in the doorway.

“Come on in”

“Are you alright?” Katie asked, despite herself. Ward looked pale and drawn.

“Yeah, thanks. I just need a word with Coulson.”

Katie nodded to show she understood and made to stand up but Ward shook his head.

"Stay.” Ward said “It concerns the team so…

Katie shrugged and sat up slightly in her chair.

“Alright Ward, what is it?” Coulson asked as he took a seat next to Katie on the other side of the desk.

“I don’t think back to childhood. Ever. As you know.” He looked at Katie and she looked down. He’d told her about his childhood, he’d had an older brother that had been abusive, as had his father. “There are things I put away a long time ago because I have to be focused, tactical. I can’t be distracted. Especially by things that happened a lifetime ago. But before, when I touched that thing… I did.”

“Touching the staff brought back memories?” Katie asked, curiously. Ward nodded and looked at her “My worst memory”. He paused for a moment and when he spoke again she was surprised to hear his voice was breaking slightly. “The first time I felt…hate. And it won’t go away.

The room fell silent and Katie looked at Coulson who took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“You’ve got some rage built up?” Coulson asked. Ward looked at him and nodded “Maybe it’s time to let it out.”

“Put our theory to the test.” Katie said, catching on.

Coulson nodded “I can run with that. ***** “You wanted to see me sir.” Steve stepped into the Directors office.

“Close the door Captain.” Fury said. Steve turned, did as he was told and then strode over to Fury’s desk.

“Have you spoken to Agent Stark today?”

Steve frowned “ Not today, no. I spoke to her last night.”

“What did she tell you about the mission?”

He was digging. Digging to see how much he knew and if Katie had kept her word. Swallowing down the annoyance he levelled the Director with a look that would have anyone else quaking in their boots.

“Nothing. All I know is she’s in Seville, and the team she’s working with contains Ward.” He drew himself a bit taller “Which for the record was a real shitty thing to do.” Fury looked at Steve “I’m not having the teams I organise dictated by personal issues, Captain. “I don’t expect them to be.” Steve bit back. “But not warning her before hand was out of order.” “Would she have gone if I’d have told her?” Steve hesitated, he didn’t actually know the answer to that. In actual fact she would have probably been torn, torn between wanting to take the mission, torn between not wanting to spend time in his vicinity. And knowing Katie as he did, the mission would have probably won.”

“I don’t know.” he said honestly. “I think she would have wanted to do the right thing,  just don’t think all the lies are fair, its manipulative...”

“All the lies, Captain?” Fury looked at him and Steve felt himself pale “What other lies has she told you about?" “Nothing.” “So she hasn’t told you Coulson’s still alive?”

Steve put on what he hoped was his best shocked face. “What?”

Fury laughed ”Your acting is as bad as your lying Captain."

Steve sighed before immediately going on the defensive “You gonna sack her? I mean that’s what you told her isn’t it? Her job was on the line unless she lied for you?" Fury sighed “I didn’t want to do that. In hindsight I realised it was unfair to ask her to keep it from you. But it’s imperative that no one else finds out about this.

“Secrets and lies huh?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“We operate in the shadows Captain, it’s just how it needs to be.” Steve looked to the side, his hands dropping to the buckle of his belt in his usual Captain stance.

“Look, if you both wanna take a few days off when she’s back, it can be arranged.” Fury said, looking at him and Steve frowned at the man’s outward display of compassion.

“Feeling guilty?” Steve looked at him.

“Happens to the most cold hearted of us all.” Fury said , “And I figured you both might need it.” “Both of us?” Steve frowned, looking at him.

“Yeah, I didn’t just bring you up here to talk about Stark.” Fury said, picking up a remote and turning on the screen. A map flashed up and Steve took a deep breath. “Agent Romanoff has been undercover this last week tracking down more Chitauri weapons. This time to Yemen. I need you to organise an op."

Steve folded his arms and let out a deep breath.

“You just keep on giving, don’t you Nick?”

****

Their theory was right. Elliot Randalph was Asgardian, a fact he displayed by easily bending the blade of a knife that Ward threatened him with.

“I had no clue. Did you?” Fitz looked over at Simmons who shook her head. “Hidden in plain sight, an actual Asgardian. Brilliant.” Simmons said, staring at the screen. “ How long do you suppose he’s been on our planet?” Skye asked. “A thousand years, maybe more.” Katie said, turning her attention from the screen she’d been watching Elliot confess on to look at the team.

"If we could just cut him open a little..." Simmons mused

Katie and Skye both looked at her, Fitz was nodding his head in agreement. “…get some tissue samples, maybe some bodily fluids, we could find out.” She finished. “ Or we could just ask him, weirdo” Skye rolled her eyes. “This is way, way better than the History Channel. I mean this guy has lived through all the scary stuff, the Crusades, the Black Death, Disco.”

“It is pretty exciting.” Katie said, “I mean Coulson thought finding Steve was cool but, he’d just slept for 70 years…”

Sky grinned as Agent May entered the room, holding a tablet and hitting various buttons on it. “What are you doing?” she asked, curiously.

“Sealing the interrogation room door.” May replied. Katie looked at her, the confusion she was feeling clearly evident on her face as May shrugged “Coulson’s orders.” She said simply.

“Ah, locking me in.” Elliot said as Katie turned her attention back to the screen. “Well, I’ve been in tighter spots.” “This room is made of a silicon carbide-coated vibranium alloy.” Ward explained “Meant for prisoners like yourself.” “But you’re in here, too. And eventually somebody will open that door”. “ Not if I tell them not to.”  Coulson shrugged, sitting in the chair opposite Elliot “ So the myth is your autobiography.” “ I didn’t write it. I didn’t want anyone to know about me. Then I had to open my big mouth.” He sighed “Were you captured? Tortured?”

“Horny.” Elliot shrugged  “I met a French girl in 1546. Ah, she loved stories. So…I told her a great one. All about the peaceful Asgardian warrior who stayed. Now, how was I to know her brother, the priest, would write it all down and turn it into, I don’t know, a thing?”

“Do you know Thor?” Coulson continued the questions.

“Oh sure. I spent all my days palling around with the future King of Asgard” Elliot rolled his eyes “No, I don’t know Thor. I was a mason. I broke rocks. He chuckled. “For thousands of years. If you can imagine that. So when they came, asking for people to fight, yes, of course I signed up. I think, really, I just wanted to travel.” “ But you had the staff.” Ward stated. “ I hated that thing. Other guys loved all the power that comes with the rage. No, I didn’t like it at all.”

He cocked his head to Ward and leant in closer.

“And you don’t, either, it seems.” “ What did it do to me?” “ It shines a light into your dark places. Doesn’t matter if you’re human, Asgardian, the effect is the same. Unpleasant.” “Shines a light” Simmons scoffed “that’s no explanation”. “It was forged from a rare metal and reacts to whoever is holding it. Or interacts.” Elliot carried on. “I went to such great lengths to make sure that the staff wasn’t found. Unfortunately, since the myth was written down, people have been searching for it for centuries.” “I need your help to stop them before they get the last piece of your staff.” Coulson said, leaning on the table. “Oh, I’m a pacifist now.” Elliot said, leaning back. "And you don’t want to risk your identity being discovered.” Coulson carried on “Listen, I wouldn’t worry too much about these angry youths. They always clam down, and eventually, they die of old age. And that is one of the pleasant aspects of life here. Everything changes. “I’ll tell you what’s gonna change, your anonymity, unless you help us find the final piece of your staff.” Coulson sighed “You may not know Thor, but I do, and he’s very fond of Agent Stark so…”. Elliot slouched on the table in front of him glaring up at Coulson, before he shrugged and sat up a bit. 

“My first love on this planet was Ireland.” He said quietly “There was a monastery and the monks gave a nice, warm place to sleep, some soup and some mulled wine.” “Near God.” Katie muttered, looking at Sky who triumphantly slammed her hand on the desk.

“I’ll go set the course for Ireland.” May said, nodding.

“Make it fast.” Katie said, as the woman looked at her. “Let’s get the rest of that damned thing before it hurts anyone else.”

*****

It wasn’t a long flight over to Ireland from Spain, but Katie took the chance to nip back to her room with the intention of calling Steve. He didn’t answer, which wasn’t surprising as he’d messaged during the night to say he had an urgent mission. She left a message informing him that she thought they’d located what they’d come for in Ireland so with a bit of luck she would be home soon. She really was missing him, it was pathetic really, not even a full 48 hours apart and she was aching for him, in more ways than one. Groaning she dropped onto her bed, trying to understand how he’d managed to turn her into such a horny, dependent wreck. She’d gone over a year without a fuck after Grant and now going 2 days was killing her. In actuality it had been longer than that, the last time they’d done it was almost 4 days ago due to work stuff meaning they had a clash of schedules. Katie found herself sighing, and her hands wandering into the front of her cat suit as she thought about how delicious that particular time had been, it was the first time Steve had been really spontaneous, taking her slightly by surprise.

Katie was busy prepping their dinner when she felt 2 strong arms circle her hips. Soft lips trailed kisses down her neck and across her jaw and she sighed, putting down the knife.

“Stop it” she giggled, “I’m trying to make us something to eat.”

He didn’t speak, and her continued protests died in her throat as his hand made its way down the front of her jeans and she felt her knees going as his fingers started their assault. Slow, deliberate strokes and flicks against her spot, over and over until she let out a loud moan as he slipped 2 fingers inside, his lips leaving hot, wet kisses all down her neck and the back of her shoulders as he pressed into her back, his arousal evident against her spine.

“You still want me to stop…” he murmured. She shook her head, her breathing was rapid now as the familiar burning hit the pit of her stomach. Suddenly Steve removed his hands from her pants and spun her round, lips crashing onto hers, his hands now on her back pinning her to his front. She kissed him back smirking slightly as she undid his jeans. Flipping the waist band of his boxers down, she took him in her hand and felt his whole body shudder slightly.

“Fuck…” he said, and then before she knew it she was out of her jeans and in his arms, his hands on each of her thighs lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him her lips still not leaving his as he backed her against the wall in the kitchen, using it to support her back. Securing her to the wall with his body, he rest his hands either side of her shoulders and locked his gaze onto hers, a storm of blue as she searched for those small spots of green in his irises. And then his right hand slid downwards to move her underwear to the side and he guided himself into her. At the feel of him, Katie tipped her head back, both of them letting out a groan as he began to gently thrust, then again, getting harder. And faster. Katie moved with him, winding her hands through his hair, tipping his head back so she could meet his lips again, between their now ragged breathing. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but whatever it was, she like this. She liked it a lot. He slid one hand up her top and into her bra, gently teasing and tweaking at her nipple and that was it. The heat in her belly began to rise, and she knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Come on baby…” he whispered into her ear and she let out a small gasp as she felt the tightening between her legs and in her lower abdomen, the muscles involuntarily spasming.

“Fuck Stevie…” and with that she surrendered, tightening her legs as her whole body gave into the wave of pleasure. She let out a strangled cry, tipping her head backwards as she zoned out.

The sight was enough to tip Steve over. “You feel so good…sweetheart…” he managed to stutter and with a final rut upwards, he felt his release too, a surge from deep within as his legs trembled and his knees almost buckled. He managed to keep hold of Katie and the pair of them slid to the floor in a tangle of limbs and clothing.

Katie lay her head back against the pillow, gasping, moving her fingers away from her now sensitive clit, her insides clenching around nothing. It wasn’t Steve, but at least it was enough to keep her satisfied for now.

Yep, Steve Rogers had a hold on her, but she loved it.

Tags

@the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227​

#steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #agents of shield #phil coulson #fanfic #fancfiction

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 030 [Scavenger Hunt]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,494

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“So we’ll keep on starting the fire, thinking we’ll smoke out the liars. We don’t give up when we’re tired, that isn’t the way that I’m wired. Someday, we’re gonna rule the world.” Zayde Wolf, “Rule the World (Generdyn Remix)”〉

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“Hey, kid!” Shimatsu grinned as I approached. “You were awesome in the cavalry battle!”

“Thanks,” I smiled softly. “Can I get three?”

“Coming right up!”

I glanced around at the spectators, chatting excitedly about the first two events of the sports fest. Several pro heroes were stationed around the stadium, keeping an eye out on the off chance some villain was dumb enough to try attacking. I spotted the chick from earlier, making a face at one of the food stall guys to get free food while the Woodsman scolded her for doing so.

Heroes… what does that word even mean, really? From what I remember from the TV shows and movies back home, the definition of a hero is someone that saves or helps others without ulterior motives and without personal gain. But in this world, being a hero is a job, one that young people across the globe aspire to have. People want to go pro for the fame, the fortune, and the power… If you have the title of hero, you can basically do whatever you want if Endeavor is anything to go by.

I wonder… why did my mother become a hero? Surely she got paid a lot more being a villain, so it couldn’t have been about money. She was already famous as an assassin, too. Was it the power she wanted? That doesn’t make sense, either. The world of villains makes it ten times easier to gain power because there are no rules or laws. What was her reasoning for changing her life? Did she have a dream? A goal she could only accomplish as a hero? I wish… I wish I could ask her.

“Kid?”

I snapped my attention back to the old man.

He wasn’t smiling, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

I took the box from his hand, staring down at the individually wrapped tacos. “Nah, I don’t think I am. But… I will be. So don’t worry.” I grinned at him. “Thanks for the food, Ojin.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Get those foam fingers in the air, it’s almost time for the last round! But before that, good news for everyone that didn’t make the finals – since this is a sports festival, we’ve prepared some super fun side games everyone can participate in! We even brought in cheerleaders from America to get your blood pumping! Hold up…”

“What are they doing…”

“Looks like class 1-A is going full-on fanservice!!”

The fuck is that cockatiel going on about now? I glanced around, my eyes landing on my female classmates. Uhh, why the fuck are they cosplaying as cheerleaders? Ain’t our class getting enough attention already? Sparky and Mineta look awfully happy about this… I swear if they are responsible.

“What?! You tricked us?!” Momo cried, glaring at the two boys. “You’re gonna regret this!!” Fucking called it. I sighed, approaching Momo as she sunk to her knees. “Why is that I always end up falling for that little pervert’s stupid schemes? I even used my quirk to make these outfits…”

I scratched my cheek. “Haven’t you learned not to believe anything those two dopes say? You’re too naive, Momo, and they keep exploiting that.”

“Ugh!” Punk threw her pom-poms down, face completely red. “I hate those guys!”

“Well, we go have a little time before the finals start and I kinda like these uniforms, so~” Invisigirl started frantically waving her pom-poms and I could hear the smile in her voice. “How about we just roll with it?!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Wow, Toru, you’ve got skills.”

Momo glanced up at me with a defeated expression. “I tried looking for you to let you know. I was worried that you might get into trouble for not participating, but now I’m glad I wasn’t able to…”

“I would’ve happily gotten in trouble,” I deadpanned. “I would die before wearing that shit.”

“R-Right…”

I smiled, patting her on the head. “Thanks for lookin’ out, though, Momo.”

She smiled back, nodding her head.

I turned toward the two boys, who were too busy watching Toru as she jumped around to notice my advancing toward them. I grabbed both of them by the back of the neck and slammed their faces together. They cried out in pain, wiggling in my grasp, but my hands started to heat up and they stilled, not wanting to get burnt. I smiled brightly, my voice low. “The next time you fuckers mess with the girls, I’ll give you a taste of pure hell, mkay?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!” They cried as I threw them to the side, scurrying away with their tails between their legs. Fuckin’ idiots. I felt a tug on the back of my shirt and I turned around, raising a brow at Punk.

She shifted, her face still red in embarrassment. “Thanks for that.”

I hummed. “No problem. Sorry about that day in the locker room, I was kind of a dick to you.”

She smiled, “It’s no big deal. Water under the bridge.”

I scratched my cheek, a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek. “So, uh, what’s your name again?”

She sweatdropped. “You’re just like Bakugo, jeez. Kyoka Jirou.”

We shook hands, exchanging a grin. Huh, maybe this socializing shit ain’t as bad as I thought it was.

“Have fun competing in these side games, everyone! After they’re over, the twenty students from the top five teams will be duking it out one-on-one in a tournament-style fighting competition! I promise you’re not going to want to miss these match-ups!”

You’ve got to be kidding me. First, we gotta run around like chickens with our heads cut off, then we gotta work together and socialize, now we gotta beat the shit out of each other? Maybe I shouldn’t have dissed the idea of playing a game of golf…

“Ah, yeah! Finally getting a chance to show what we’re made of!” Kiri grinned brightly. “I watch these finals every year and now I’m actually in them!”

“So wait, is it always a tournament?” Alien asked curiously, bringing her finger to her chin.

“The final’s always a one-on-one competition, but they switch it up every time.” Flex Tape answered. “Last year, it was a foam sword-fighting match.”

I started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Kiri asked in confusion.

“I just… I pictured hitting Bakugo with a foam sword on the head…”

He paused, lifting his head as he imagined it. Then he started to laugh with me.

“Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up again!” Midnight announced. “And then enjoy the pleasure of the recreation games before we start. The twenty finalists have the option of participating in these activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to conserve your stamina. I’ll start with the first-place team.”

“Um, excuse me…” Tail raised his hand in the air, looking sad. “Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.”

“Ojirou, no way…”

“But this is a rare chance for you to get scouted!”

“It just wouldn’t be right,” he responded. “I barely remember anything from the cavalry battle until the very end of it. I… think it was that guy’s quirk.”

I scratched my cheek thoughtfully, closing my eyes. Who was he partners with again? I don’t even remember seeing him once during the battle.

“I know this is a great opportunity,” he continued. “I wish I could take advantage of it but my conscious won’t let me.”

“Just think about this,” Izuku spoke softly.

“I have, okay?!” Ojirou’s brow furrowed as he held up his fist. “Everyone gave their all in round two, but I was just someone’s puppet. No way. I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t fair.”

“You’re making way too much of this!” Toru said cheerfully. “Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be here!”

“Yeah, what she said!” Alien added. “I didn’t do much in the battle, either.”

“That’s not it!” He covered his face with his hand. “I’m talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up!”

Ah, men and their pride.

“Also… why are all the girls except for Winchester dressed like cheerleaders?”

“Because Mineta and Sparky are perverted dipshits,” I answered.

“Right…”

“Nirengeki Shoda from class 1-B,” A short boy with soft blue hair stepped forward. “I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here! It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot!”

“Listen to these guys, they’re so manly!” Kirishima cried, making me sweatdrop and pat his back.

“Well now, here’s another weird turn of events.”

“We’ll have to see what Midnight has to say about all this, she’s the one in charge.”

Because letting the R-Rated hero be in charge sounds like a banger of a plan. What could possibly go wrong.

“This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my dear boys. That turns me on!”

“What the fuck, man.” I groaned, smacking my forehead. Thinking of Midnight being turned on is the last fucking thing I want burned into my skull.

“Shoda! Ojirou! You’re both withdrawn! Now, let’s see… We’ll move four students from the sixth place cavalry team so we have enough contestants.”

The orange-haired girl from class B spoke up. “We were frozen most of the time. Honestly, we barely did anything in the cavalry battle. Isn’t that right, girls?” She looked at the three standing on either side of her, who nodded in agreement. “You should choose from the group that kept fighting the whole time – team Tetsutetsu.”

“Kendo!” The silverette spoke up, surprise lacing his voice.

She smiled. “I’m not doing this as a favor. It’s just fair.”

“Seriously, you guys… thank you!!”

“And so, Tetsutetsu, Shiozaki, Honenuki, and Reggian have advanced to the finals. Take a look at the bracket, my dears! These are your opponents!”

Let’s see, I’m fighting some bitch named Regina Reggian? The fuck kinda name is that, fam? That’s almost as bad as Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu…

“Hey, you’re Winchester, right?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see the black-haired guy with the air chain. “Depends on who’s askin’.”

“I’m your opponent,” he grinned. “The names Regina Reggian, but you can just call me Red.”

“Isn’t Regina a chick’s name?”

He sweatdropped, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, well, my creator thought it would be funny. Pretty sure they hate me.”

“Right…” This bitch is definitely nuts.

“Listen up!” He pointed his finger in my face, pink eyes flashing as he grinned. “I’m gonna beat your ass like Jotarou beat Dio!”

“I don’t know who either of those people are, bro.”

“Whack.”

“Okay! Let’s press pause for a momentary interlude! Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games! First, how about a scavenger hunt?!”

Cards were handed out to those wanting to participate.

I flipped mine over and my eye twitched. Where the fuck am I supposed to find this shit? I glanced around the field, eyes stopping on Bakugo who was leaning against the wall looking pissed off at the world. Oh… Well, then.

I grinned as I approached him. “Oi, Bakuhoe. I need you for somethin’.”

“Huh? What for – What the fuck are you doing, bitch?!”

I ignored his protests as I threw my arm around his upper thighs and hoisted him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Fuck, you’re heavier than I thought. Go on a diet.”

“Fuck you!” He smacked the back of my head. “Put me down or I’ll kill you!”

“Quit squirming, you fuck.” I scowled, coming to a stop in front of Midnight and dropping him onto his ass, holding out my card that read ‘犬 Dog’.

“I’m not a fucking dog!!” Bakugo screamed.

I scoffed. “You sure fucking yap like one, chihuahua.”

“Die!!”

Midnight smacked the top of my head with her whip. “Denied!”

“Che, that ain’t fair, Midnight!” I scowled. “Where the fuck am I supposed to find a dog, huh? Am I fucking game to you?” I pointed at Bakugo’s face. “This is the closest fucking thing to a dog in this stadium! I demand a different card.”

“Denied!”

“Son of a -”

Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring at the side of my head. “Instead of doing this stupid shit, you should be getting ready for your match! I won’t fucking forgive you if you lose to anyone but me!”

“Yeah, yeah, whateva.” I sighed, deeply, turning and walking away from them. I was a few feet away when I heard a high-pitched voice.

“Hey! Miss!”

I glanced up at the stands, seeing a young boy about nine or ten leaning over the railing and waving frantically. “Uhh…”

“Catch me, ‘kay?”

“Wait, what, OI -!” He jumped over the railing, making the nearby spectators cry out and try to grab him. His aim was pretty on point, not gonna lie. His body slammed against mine and I lost my balance, falling back onto my ass with him in my lap. “What the fuck were you thinkin’, huh? You coulda got seriously hurt, kid!”

He grinned brightly, showing off a gap where he was missing a top tooth. “I had faith that you’d catch me, big sis!”

Sis? What, is he a fan of James Charles or somethin’? “You shouldn’t be down here, your parents are gonna be mad.”

“Mom’s at work and dad left us when I was three.”

I sweatdropped. “Who brought you here, then?”

“My big brother! But he’s too busy getting rejected by Mt. Lady!” He giggled.

“For fuck’s sake,” I slapped my forehead. He giggled again and I narrowed my eyes. “Do not repeat anything I say. Clear?”

“Kay~” He grinned. “You need a dog for the scavenger hunt, right?”

“Yeah.”

His body started to shift in my arms, getting a bit smaller as his skin and clothes were replaced by fur. The boy was now a dog, his legs and belly white while the rest of him was a soft orange. Now, I’m not a dog person at all, but he’s pretty fucking adorable. What is that, a corgi?

He licked my cheek, making my eye twitch in annoyance. “Sorry, I can only talk to people I’ve licked!”

“…alrighty then.” I returned to Midnight, holding the kid up like I was holding Simba.

She raised a brow but didn’t question where I had gotten him from. “Approved!”

“Dope.” I brought him back to my chest. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Riku Reigen!”

“Alright, Riku. Let’s find that idiot brother of yours.”

He tilted his doggy head to the side, ears flicking. “But what about the other events, big sis? You’re gonna miss them!”

I shrugged. “I was only doing it because it was easy and I had nothing else to do. Plus, I’m in the finals so I don’t have to participate.”

“Okay, if you’re sure!” He barked happily. “Let’s go~!”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[artist-in-space]

Otherworldly

A Marvel/MCU x Markiplier fanfic (specifically, Wilford Warfstache). Because I’ve been in a writing binge and somehow this happened. Thanks, @sunflower-chan. What is this.

The alert to call the Avengers—which was set-up by Tony for JARVIS to implement when a situation goes south too quickly for police or any other government armed official could respond to—went off around lunch time. As it was, it really was ridiculous that only Hawkeye and Captain America were near (and by near, they were in another mission under SHIELD, in Ohio).

“Oh wow,” Steve muttered under his breath as he sat inside the car. He looked at his phone and saw the alert: hostages, three cops down. “Hawkeye, did you just get—“

“Yeah.” Clint answered, and opened his window as Steve revved up the gas. “That’s surprising, Ohio’s usually quiet. Quieter than most states, at least. This is the first time I’ve ever gotten an alert for it.”

Steve nodded, following the directions given by JARVIS on the GPS, though he heard the blares of the police sirens from a mile away. He turned around the curb and his eyes widened; there were more than five cars already that had encircled the vicinity. It was a relatively-small TV building, belonging to a news station.

“Hawkeye, do you have eyes on him?” Steve asked as he went outside of the car. Clint had walked out already and positioned himself beside one of the police cars, and Steve took the central point.

“I don’t see him yet.” Clint reported over his comm. Steve saw him lean down to talk to a hiding police officer, and heard him ask the description of the culprit.

“P-Pink hair, with a pink mustache Hawkeye!” The police officer stammered. He was probably new to these kind of stuff. “Wearing a yellow shirt and pink overalls. Brown pants.”

“Pink hair? Pink mustache?” Clint repeated, incredulous. “Like—colored? Colored in pink?”

“The top part.”

Steve squinted in front of him, turning to the police officer next to him. “Ma’am, we got an alert that there had been three casualties. Where are they now?”

“One’s inside.” The policewoman reported, a worried look on her face. “One of the audience was shot. One is here—SPO3 Jim Sanders. Cap,” she furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think we can deal with this guy alone. I don’t know how he does it but he’s—he’s not from around here.”

That took Steve’s attention; it just means that it really was better for the Avengers to take hold of this matter. They were more well-versed in out-of-the-world enemies.

“Not from around here?” He inquired, keeping his eyes on the entrance. He could hear a scuffle inside; he hoped that those were the hostages surviving whatever this guy was doing. “Alien?”

“No.” She shook his head, seemingly sure of herself. “Looks as human as you can get. But the man—he doesn’t—I’m no physicist Captain, but even I know that this guy doesn’t obey any single law known to man.”

Steve was just going to ask when his arm automatically raised in defense, just in time for a bullet to ricochet onto it. Steve’s eyes were wide, and he looked at Clint on the other side, who was tense. Then another shot out, and Clint was looking at him, eyes tight.

“I can’t see him,” Clint muttered, frustration in his tone. “Cap, I can’t see him!”

A laugh broke out of the scene, and Steve knew he had to act fast; he spotted the bullets before it rained down on a team of police officers trying to engage the culprit. He threw his shield just in time, swallowing as the barrage of bullets pinged on his shield and took the brunt of the attack.

“Oh wow,” someone suddenly said beside Steve. He turned around and, eyes wide, recognized that this was the culprit: the shock of pink hair wasn’t hard to miss. “I’ve never seen that before.”

But how did--? He thought, shocked.

He composed himself; the man was shorter than him, and leaner, but he exuded—exuded madness, somehow, and Steve could feel it.

The shield returned to his outstretched hand, and he used it to put a barrier between the pink-haired man and him. The man had put his revolver on his side, and if Steve wasn’t as perceptive as he is, he’d just think he had imagined the gun. But no; it really did just disappear from his sight.

“I’ve experienced lightsabers but never shield Frisbees.” The man continued, terribly intrigued with his weapon. “I say, how delightful!”

He could feel his grip tighten on his shield; he was suddenly nervous that this man would suddenly just get ahold of his shield and he wouldn’t know what to do next.

“Thank you?” Steve said out of courtesy. The police beside him were weirdly quiet all of a sudden. “I uh, specialize in it. Not a lot can wield this shield because it confuses people on how to… maneuver it.”

“Delightfully interesting!” He said, wonder in his whole visage and tone. He reached out, but he was—was timid, in a sense. “May I? I won’t wield it, no. How does it feel?”

“Metallic,” Steve answered promptly, and he felt his cheeks color. Oh wow, that came out of nowhere. “It’s—like holding a large metal disc… I guess. It’s more of a personal weapon, anyway.”

The man knocked on the shield, and huffed in amazement. He wiggled his mustache; Steve noted that it curled in a cartoonish way. “Vibranium! I’ve never seen it curve like that before! That’s a mind-boggler!” He nodded. “That’s a very interesting way to use that kind of… metal? Is it metal? Oh well. I’ve once seen that be used in a train! Couldn’t be destroyed. Were you there?”

“…train?”

“You look like someone I’ve met in a train. You’ve got to fight it till the end to understand what it all means though. Phew, did I jump out of that unlucky situation!”

Steve was becoming lost—or, well, more lost that he could ever be.

The pink-mustached man didn’t seem to notice his speechlessness, and continued on to his spiel. “You wielding such precious metal is positively astonishing!”

Again, Steve didn’t understand how to respond. “Thanks, mister…?” He trailed off, hoping to at least take an alias.

“Wilford Warfstache.” The man grinned. “It was nice talking to you, we should meet again sometime!”

Then suddenly, a bang happened; Steve whipped his head towards the entrance of the building, and saw Wilford again—saw him with his revolver outstretched, the almost-nonchalant smile on his face quirking into a pleased grin.

“Oh hello there!” He greeted towards Hawkeye’s direction, but as Clint reacted with an arrow stretched, Wilford frowned.

Steve felt ice in his veins; he vaulted over the car to race towards Clint immediately, watching the man in almost like a slow-mo pace as he prepared an arrow to launch.

Clint released the string towards Wilford’s direction, but Steve was ready to get Clint and the other officer down; they all landed with a thud on the sidewalk.

The policeman was shock-white, but the archer just gasped at the fall, and cursed. He looked annoyed, rolling to a sitting position.

“Cap what the fu—“

The arrow whizzed towards them and electrified the whole field of where they were previously standing. Clint muttered something—and the officer went we could’ve been shocked to death but Steve paid it no attention.

Instead, he was on his feet again, shield poised. He squinted his eyes, surveying the scene for the pink-haired man; but all traces of him were gone. He eyed the building, and noticed that someone was raising a handkerchief on the third floor; someone was still alive in there.

“Someone get him!” The officer that Steve met earlier—Lieutenant Anderson—shouted.

Apparently, the pink-haired man had chosen to decide to leave the area with flourish; Wilford was at the other end of the road, far from the building. Steve met his gaze; Wilford gave a happy salute, rotating his gun in goodbye. He disappeared from his view; the cops ran in pursuit.

Hawkeye was moving as well, but Steve didn’t; Clint turned around in exasperation.

“Cap!”

“No,” Steve whispered, walking backwards towards the building. “He’s gone. I need to see the people inside. They’re the priority.”

“But Cap—“

Steve broke into a run, entering the building.

--

Turns out, there were five casualties, but it didn’t include the first one to be thought to be as the first victim. He, however, had multiple stab wounds, and it was only due to the glorious advancement of technology that he survived. It also helped that the guy had an iron will, apparently, and enough medical knowledge to keep pressing on his wounds before help could arrive.

Scarily enough, it just took at least five minutes for the whole ordeal to commence, and that was in Clint’s view.

“He’s currently not allowed to take visitors.” The doctor said, “—therefore, I am requesting you to leave.”

Clint understood why. It was their duty, after all. He wasn’t going to hate medical because they wanted to follow the law; he’s been over that ever since he was put into SHIELD. But he was also on duty here, and it didn’t really settle well in his mind that this guy—whoever this guy was—had lived and apparently had been interviewed by Pink Man earlier.

Steve called him ‘Wilford Warfstache’. Clint called him a dick.

“Look.” He said, a sigh adorning his lips. “I’m not asking for his vitals. I just want to know if he knew the guy earlier. We are, you know, on an Avenging Business? It’s kind of important to know these details and he’s the one that was closely interacting with him.”

“Mr. Hawkeye,” the doctor said with an even more exasperated tone. Clint wanted to scream, but the urge to do it was quelled once he felt a familiar presence walked up behind him.

“Sorry doctor,” Steve said as he placed a hand on Clint’s shoulder, forcibly turning him away from the annoyed doctor. “—we understand. We’re just peeved; he had been so close and it wasn’t… an ideal scenario.”

The doctor nodded, grim. “I understand as well. I will alert you when the patient wakes up; right now, I have to restrict access to you. You may conduct your investigation in another area or contact the police.” She spun around, leaving the two.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Clint muttered as he raised his hand, already anticipating Steve’s incoming lecture. “—that I should respect hospital and medical rules because it’s the law. But fuck, Cap-- that guy somehow made my arrow go back in a straight line without a bow and I’m sure as hell that he didn’t have anything on hand.”

Steve steered him towards the cafeteria, offering him a can of soda and a biscuit. He waited for Clint to eat it before responding, and even then he was timid. “I wasn’t going to reprimand you.” He said honestly, which surprised Clint. “I was… going to ask you. If you saw how he did it but apparently not.”

Clint made a huge gulp of his soda before frowning. He reviewed his stance, his position, and no. “No, no I really didn’t.”

It, on some level, scared him. He’s faced aliens before, Chitauri. He’s faced an overzealous gang called the Wrecking Crew once. He’s faced a god (though that didn’t go so well, but he did threaten him with an arrow after Hulk had injured him, so it was a win). But this guy—just a few feet away from them earlier, had a look that was very distinct. He’s never seen those looks together in one man before.

A look of pure craziness but also a so-so distinction of awareness. And Jesus Christ, the aforementioned ‘teleporting’.

That was just an unfair advantage; even Thor, a god, had to swing his hammer before flying.

Steve mumbled something that was incoherent, both word and mouth-wise. He waved a hand over Steve’s face, and gestured to his hearing aids. “’Ey. Don’t mumble. It hurts team morale, Cap.” He joked at the obviously bothered-Steve. The man didn’t laugh though, which piqued his worry even more. “Steve?”

“Sorry.” Steve flickered his eyes towards the different patients around the cafeteria. “You… I guess you didn’t witness my… small talk with Wilford.”

Clint put his drink down and eyed him. “You… spoke to him? How? When?” He didn’t even have time to breathe between the occurrence of that laugh and the man actually appearing in the entrance with a gun cocked and loaded. “There was no time!”

“That’s the thing.” Steve murmured, and even if they were spoken in low tones, he could hear the man as clear as day. He could hear the doubt and worry. “There was.”

#markiplier #lmao what is this #wilford warfstache #fic #honestly this was just something ive been stewing about as;ldka;lk

[quynhsandy]

Tagged by the amazing and lovely @tinanewt to answer some questions!!! Thank you so much Arwen!! Sorry for taking so long to do this

Do you make your bed?

I try to

What’s your favorite number?

2, 4, 8, 12, 18, 20, 22, 28, 42, 48, and 88 (these are the numbers that help my OCD)

What’s your job?

I don’t have one

Can you parallel park?

I’m to young to drive but I can get my learners permit in a couple of months!

A job you’ve had that surprises people?

Uhhhhhhh in the summer I work at the history archives at the college my parents work out (I wasn’t paid so I don’t call it a job)

Do you think aliens are real?

I think they are real! But they are human just like us!

Can you drive a manual car?

Can’t drive

What’s your guilty pleasure? Tattoos?

Uhhhhhh this isn’t really a guilty pleasure but I become what my dad calls “a blanket creature” where I curl up on the floor in my blanket lmao

Favorite color?

My LGBTQ+ flag colors or pastel pink!

Do people think you drive crazy?

I can’t drive but I hope people think I will drive safely

Any phobias?

To many to list but mainly murder, spiders, bugs, insects, cannibalism, and getting stranded on a island (I know they are ridiculous but you can blame my history teacher for the cannibalism one)

Favorite childhood sport?

I did dance (ballet, jazz, and tap) for over ten years I quit this year cause of school 

Do you talk to yourself?

All the time

What movies do you adore?

13 Going On 30, Into the Spiderverse, the og star wars trilogy, and the Harry Potter films!

Do you like doing puzzles?

I like mind puzzles but if I’m bored I’ll do a regular puzzle!

Favorite kind of music?

Alternate music/soft pop (Lana Del Rey and Marina and the Diamonds)

Tea or coffee?

Tea!!

What’s the first thing you remember wanting to be when you grew up?

An acrobat which would have been h o r r i b l e lmao

tagging @boowoomuu @tired-and-dumb @jedileiaorgcna @twilight-byers @starryreys @grayson-dick and anyone else who wants to do it :)

#tag games #about me #thank you sm for the tag!! #arwen tag #friend tag