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jkknight98 · 2 years

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Rain fall

Took a little bit of time to get this story out, but here we are, but its a twist. The reader insert in this story isn’t the one being nommed, but are the nommer instead, how else can you get a certain enderboy away from the rain when your clothes are already soaked. But your not experienced on this side of the coin~.

I hope you guys enjoy this story and remember to drink water & eat something today~

(Wish me luck against my worst challenge, writing for Quackity)

tw: soft vore, mild injury, talk of being sick.

Sky above did you hate the rain sometimes, it was always such a hassle to be out collecting resources when the bottom suddenly falls out, and you would be completely drenched despite your best efforts. It made you feel sorry for the endermen in a way, while you only had to deal with the risk of getting a cold for staying out too long, you've been told it almost feels like acid on their skin. ‘Poor Ranboo’ was the next thought that crossed your mind as you huddled under a tree to rest, he felt the same amount of pain as a full-blooded enderman.

You did have to admit the rain was pretty sometimes though, especially now as it seemed to create an ethereal landscape around your tiny sanctuary, the frogs coming out of their hidden crevasses to sing to the sky, and the smells of wet earth quickly set your mind at ease. If you didn't already have plans to meet with Techno later this afternoon, you would have gladly set up a dry spot to sit down and take a quick nap, but that wasn’t in your cards today. You only just managed to map out the general path you were going to take to stay relatively dry when a purple particle fluttered before your nose, the slight prickly feeling causing you to nearly sneeze as it irritated the sensitive skin. “What are you doing here little thing?” Your hands reached up to cup the small thing away from your face, you always liked the particles endermen gave off, each one unique to the individual. You would have to admit that Ranboo’s were especially lively, each one of the particles seeming to have their own personalities as they moved around the giant teenager. Your thoughts were cut off as more particles began appearing around you, some going for your face while others circled the safety of the tree until a heavy weight slammed into your back, and it was only your quick thinking that stopped you both from falling. You had to stab your sword into the damp ground, making you a bit annoyed until you saw the two different colored hands that were weakly hanging off you,” Ranboo?!?!”

You did your best to turn around while supporting the boy, which was very difficult as the boy towered over you normally, but you were able to get him laid down with only a slight whine of pain escaping him, and could only gasp in worry once you took in his appearance. The boy was covered with burn marks from the rain, his two-toned skin looking blotchy as he looked up at you with teary eyes, which was only worsening the burns on his face,” N-name….sorry to scare you…. I got caught in the rain..”

You quickly shushed him as you dug around in your inventory to find the few healing items that you had on hand, happy to at least have a golden apple that you quickly set to cutting it into small chunks,” I can see that you big noodle, let's just focus on getting you healed up ok, eat this.” You helped the boy eat the apple quickly, especially as the winds changed and more rain was blowing into your tiny shelter, causing more wounds to appear with each painful splash. “ The rain doesn’t look like it's going to slack up at all… What happened to the armor you usually wear?”

The boy's ears tilted downwards as he curled into a tighter ball next to you, which you were sure looked very comical to anyone walking past,” The durability wore out when a creeper exploded next to me, I thought I could make it back to Techno’s before the rain started, I’m lucky my particles got me here.” His ears drooped even more as he leaned against you as another bout of wind threw rain towards you, making him flinch and hiss in pain, his tail flicking in annoyance. “ How long is it going to last, is it worth it to dig down and wait it out….. I had stuff to do..”

It made you sad to see the poor boy upset, reaching up a hand to gently rub his head in the spot you knew he liked, and smiled at the low purr that made you shake with the boy,” Seems like we both are going to be stuck here then, it wouldn’t be poggers to leave you here by yourself,” the boy couldn’t stop the laugh at your deliberately bad use of a certain blonds words,” We both can be late meeting Techno, knowing him he’s out with the hounds.” The two of you both jumped out of your skins when a loud crash of thunder hit, the tree next to yours quickly catching fire and spreading fast despite the continuous rain, making you realize it wouldn’t be long before it reached your own tree if the rain didn’t stop it. “ Shit…. That fire is going to spread to our tree… we need to make a shelter, what blocks do you have?” The two of you attempted to make the best shelter that you could, but with your limited blocks and the dirt being too waterlogged for the boy to even touch, your attempt did only a bit better than the original tree. You were at a complete loss as to what to do at this point, the rain was just continuing to pour and Ranboo was slowly going through all of your healing items as he kept taking damage, it wasn’t a good spot for either of you to be in.

The boy perked up suddenly, causing you to jump and let out a short curse,” I know what we can do,” diving into his inventory before pulling out a very familiar cyan-colored potion and looked at it with hesitance,” I was supposed to give this to Techno….but I think he can understand the situation.” You knew that potion well, the infamous shrinking potion that made its way across the entire Smp and started a weird series of events that there was no escape from. Some people took it as a way to receive comfort or protection, as who could reach you if you were being protected by layers of muscles and bone, but others used it as a way of control. You couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of someone like Dream getting a hold of the potion, from the little bit of information you got about Tommy’s exile and time in the prison, that man would no doubt put it to horrible use.

You weren't ashamed to say that you had used the potion yourself on a few occasions, but not in the way Ranboo was suggesting, you were the one used to be stored and have never been the one storing. The idea made your mouth instantly go dry,” Are you sure that's a good idea… I've never done this before,” the boy just nodded with a tiny smile” and you trust me that much to do this?” This made him laugh and leaned against you, stating that he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t trust you, warming your heart a little. You could only sigh as you reached your hand out to ruffle his hair again,” I‘ll try my best, but why can’t I just hide you under my clothes and armor… it might be awkward... But I also wouldn’t be swallowing you..” You were very dismayed as the boy listed off every reason why hiding him under your clothing would be a terrible idea, and you were forced to agree with him on his decision, it would be safer for the two of you in the long run.

You couldn’t help the shaky sigh that escaped you,” Alright… go-ahead stretch, drink up before we have to stay out here any longer and Techno comes looking for us because he’s ‘not worried, just got tired of waiting”. This made the boy laugh as he popped open the bottle, allowing you the faintest whiff of the sour liquid before he started to drink it, it amazed you how he could drink it so straight-faced. But you were swift to gently take the bottle from him and hold his arms as he started to get woozy, eyes fully shutting as his body started to compress to a more manageable size…well manageable for others, you haven’t tried yet. You watched as the massive 8’5 teenager shrink down until he was just under six inches long..about the size of a loaf of bread…a big loaf of bread. “Oh, this is not going to be fun.”

You gently cradled the tiny form to your chest as another clash of thunder made your tiny shelter shake from the force, and jumped when you felt a tiny hand tap your hands to see the boy awake.

*~*~*~*~•*•~*~•*~•~*•~*~

Ranboo was a bit hesitant when he looked up into your face, feeling the same amount of concern that was painted across your face, but as another gust of wind ripped through the shelter he knew he needed to steel his resolve. “You're going to need to slick me up, shouldn't be as hard as it is for Tubbo.”

He had to hold in a laugh as he watched an unimpressed look cross your face,” you two go back and forth doing this don't you?” He laughed openly now as you breathed a warm sigh, your breath welcomed as it eased the coolness on his skin, nearly leaning into it before he caught himself. He did jump when something warm and considerably damp pressed against his face, sputtering as he used his hand to push your tongue away,” I have to get a taste test first, what if I had to dunk you in some honey if you tasted bad.” The two of you laughed at the joke for a moment, both of you clearly stalling until the moment couldn't be avoided, but Ranboo watched as your mouth opened before him.

He watched as strings of saliva draped from the roof like gossamer curtains, but the sight of your scrunched nose eased his discomfort, letting him confidently reach forward and place his hands inside...

*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

You were surprised at how good Ranboo tasted, you thought your test lick would make you sick, you were surprised at the pleasantness. You nearly jumped when you felt the tiniest pressure of hands on your tongue, the muscle picking up the odd sweetness, and started to drool, much to your embarrassment. The flavor only grew more intense as hands turned to arms, and then to the torso as Ranboo went as far as he could inside, still leaving his legs and twitching tail outside; going near cross-eyed to see this. You slowly closed your mouth, leaving your teeth away as you began to lick in earnest. You really did not want to choke on your friend, but slowly grew to enjoy your newest ‘treat’. The sweetness was still there from your first tasting, you would almost call it fruit-like if you only had one to compare it to, but you were now starting to taste the hint of a meatiness that was almost smokey…it was interesting. Your stomach seemed to share the same interest as it gave a low rumble in want, it was true that you hadn't eaten anything before your trip since you weren’t expecting to get caught in the rain like this, but it was really hard to ignore this fact now.

*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Ranboo could only laugh at the ticklish feeling, it didn’t seem like you were so hesitant with your tasting now, especially when he could hear the low rumble that echoed from the blackness. The sound would have made his knees weak if Tubbo didn’t act the same way, the smaller hybrid taking delight in this activity when they had the chance, so he was fairly used to bodily sounds. He shook his head slightly to try and rid some of the saliva running down it, but another swipe of the tongue made his efforts useless.

He knew that you needed to hurry up though, he couldn’t hear the rain anymore, but his lower half could still feel the cold chill of it. He tried to shimmy forward again and reached out for where he guessed the throat would start but was halted when the mouth jerked and a few low coughs shook him, he must have accidentally hit something sensitive. “Sorry name, but we need to hurry up.”

*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

You were pulled from the shallow daze you had slipped into rather abruptly, one minute you were imagining that you were enjoying an odd sweet berry, the next you were trying not to hack up a lung. It took everything in your power not to accidentally bite down on the poor boy, doing that would put you on not only Techno and Phil’s shit list, but also Tubbo’s (the idea made an icy shiver run up your spine, you didn’t need a nuke striking down on your home.) You could only just hear the tiny voice over your ragged breathing and he was right, you needed to hurry this up.

You took a few deep breaths as you brought your hand up to gently grip Ranboo’s calves as you tilted your head upwards, it would make things easier for both of you and keep you from being a weirdo like Wilbur (He wanted to feel every last movement apparently), going a little cross-eyed as you watched the tiny tail flick around. You took one last breath to both ease your nerves and give Ranboo the chance to prepare himself, counted down from five…, and took the first swallow.

Oooh, that felt weird.

It felt very weird.

You were very thankful that Ranboo stuck his arms out because it was already turning into a very tight squeeze, you could just draw in a bit of air around the boy and only his head and shoulders were inside, and you still had a lot left to pack down. You felt the tiniest trickle of tears at the corner of your eyes as you continue, your throat was not made to stretch like this, but you couldn't stop now. You brought your free hand up to feel the misshapen lump just before it connected to your collarbone, wanting to wheeze as your air supply was fully severed, this prompted you to start pushing. In every swallow that you took, you used your other hand to gently push down on the legs that were still feeling the cold air, it made the boy squirm slightly, but after a few seconds, he thankfully caught on and stopped. You almost cried in relief as you were able to close your mouth over the tiny shoes and give the final swallows needed to clear your airways.

*~*~*~*~•*•~*~•*~•~*•~*~

It was safe to say that Ranboo felt bad about his decision, he could tell how badly you were struggling to get him down, at least you hadn’t fainted like he feared you would. It was a little shocking when he felt your hand press down on his legs but quickly held them stiff as it only helped get him down faster. He marveled at the sounds of your heart and lungs as he passed them, this was one of the few times he got to feel small as he normally towers over others. This was also one of the few times he felt fully safe as no one can get to him, and he can't get to anyone else in his enderwalk (he and Tubbo learned that on a very interesting day), so he couldn’t help but let out a pleased chirp at the tight embrace. He did flinch when his body was roughly shoved into a hard wall, but it didn't take long for it to open to a very vocal stomach, the organ quickly grabbing at his form. The sounds were pretty quick to change from eager grumbles to almost sickly whines as more of his body was forced inside, he probably should have had more of the shrinking portion, but it was too late now as his tail joined with his tightly curled form. The walls were very tight in their embrace as they tried to explore him, sounding almost pained when he wouldn’t break down under their movements. They pressed harder with one more rolling motion that Ranboo could best describe as a too firm massage, before coming to relax and he felt his weight sink further into the stretched flesh that was not happy to have him anymore. He was amazed, however, with how much softer your insides were. He leaned into them almost unconsciously with a low purr, he felt like he was in a plush bed, if the bed was damp and smelled citrusy, he was almost tempted to sleep. He wouldn’t do that though, he already felt horrible for taking advantage of your kindness in the first place, he won’t use this as an excuse to catch up on the sleep he's been missing.

*~*~*~*~•*•~*~•*~•~*•~*~

You would be amazed if you weren’t as green as a creeper with how sick you felt, looking down at the newly made bump in your torso, your breath could only hitch when it moved on its own. You weren’t made to be the one to do this,” Oh this was a terrible idea..” A very uncomfortable belch forced itself out of your mouth as the boy moved to get in a better position, you regretted swallowing him head first, placing a hand over the wriggling form as he tried to get upright; feeling sicker. “ please be more gentle…I would like to get to Techno’s without getting sick.” The muffled sorry made you feel a touch better, though the sickness returned when you moved to stand and leave your shelter.

You could feel how off your central gravity was as your stomach swayed with its additional weight, it really freaked you out how well you could feel Ranboo's breath under your skin, and how warm the area felt when you placed a hand over it. You almost felt like you over-gorged yourself on freshly cooked meat, and you were sure you were going to be sore from this. With one last shaky sigh, you moved to the edge of the ceiling and let a few sprays of cold rain hit your skin, reminding yourself that this was for your friend's sake. You took off in a sprint for the snowy north...

Only to stop with a very pained whine as your aching stomach and passenger were jostled, best to just fast walk and deal with getting soaked.

*~*~*~*~•*•~*~•*~•~*•~*~

*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

You couldn’t stop the shiver as you felt icy hands pet at the still sensitive lining of your stomach, you didn’t think you would be doing this again with Ranboo (or Ghostboo after the…prison incident), but you were surprised to see the specter at your door. It seemed that with all the people he had been stored by, yours was the most comfortable, much to your confusion and dismay. So here you are now, wrapped in a blanket trying to ward off the never-ending chill in your core while the ghost of one of your dearest friends draws shapes on your insides. But you were happy to indulge the ghost, best to see him happy after you cried so much at his death. A sudden hiccup caused a muffled peal of laughter as the ghost apologized, leaving you to just sigh and gently tap where you could feel the phantom's head with a finger.

#mcyt g/t vore #mcyt g/t community #tw vore #soft vore #safe vore #reader insert vore #jkknight requests #jkknight story #mcyt vore

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge. As always, some creative liberties taken.

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.

Star Spangled Rebirth Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation, Steve was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally, I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.” He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. Phillips gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie glanced at him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot, and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now, Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it.” She nodded, “The HYDRA Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too? Perhaps, give that time to recover as well?” Phillips looked at Howard who snorted.

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” He arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round Katie’s blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing,” she took a deep breath, “but I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. Schmidt must become that superior man.

He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him. “I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve. “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on HYDRA.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase HYDRA?”

She shrugged, “it seems logical to me. A lunatic Schmidt might be, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, HYDRA is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of HYDRA. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir,that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need,” Howard groaned, “two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy. “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You,” he then looked at Howard, “take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. As for you,” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine wanted to do. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them behind. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel, well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe, but I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious, Rogers,” Howard smirked, “she said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still ongoing.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

**** It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum, that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on HYDRA. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? HYDRA was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like ‘super strength’, ‘increased stamina’, ‘enhanced metabolism’, ‘fast healing’, ‘super-sharp senses’, ‘memory expansion’, ‘logical improvement’. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the Doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted,” she shrugged, “and I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow. “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he��ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood, Kiddo.” Howard held his hands up as the Doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The Doctor smiled. “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly.

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

Katie shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after HYDRA in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “he’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face. “He owed me a drink.”

*****

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of him and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The Doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt.

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “but there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the Doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “but without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

He followed Peggy into the lab, his ears picking up the conversation as they entered.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her before he turned back to Phillips.

“We’re not even close to this technology.”

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded simply. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division.” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up, “but he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated, “they worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being re-tasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s-”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But-”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat as she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he opened his mouth to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

**** Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes. “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out, Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being-”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me.” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight but me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged.

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit beside him. “And I understand how frustrated you feel, believe me.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him.

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “what?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “what’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I meant, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “you know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was,” Steve smiled with a short nod. “kind, compassionate. Just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said the other night before we, you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not-so-lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “just as a coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s gonna happen to you no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of being in the right place at the right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup,” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little, “this definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe, Soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt his smile fade, the warmth in his chest replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

****

November 1943.

“I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable, cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt sketch of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with ‘Adolph’ himself. Steve had knocked him out countless times, and was still no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier, only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night, but the fact was he didn’t want to.

Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart remained with a certain green eyed agent.

It was ironic, when he thought about it. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and looked as if they had happily trudged through mud and been beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up. Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did, she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh, twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a plan, and what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry."

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It might sound familiar but there was a chance it could be another Barnes. It was a common name, after all, and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines.

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “but if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines, through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away. “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

***** Chapter 5

#Stark Spangled Rebirth #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america #CATFA 10th anniversary challenge #mcu #mcu fanfic #fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

between us - chapter iv

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

In the days that passed, I started to become more and more like myself again. I laughed more frequently, I felt more energetic, and it wasn’t long before Aaron decided I could go back to work.

Seeing Spencer again was nice, but it was undoubtedly weird to try to pretend nothing different was going on between Hotch and I. I mean, I felt like the team had a solid idea of what was happening between us, especially from how firm he was about taking me to his house when I broke down on the jet, but nothing was confirmed yet and I didn’t want it to. It was nice to have something special blossoming and it felt like it was still so intimate and pure, I didn’t want to learn other people’s views about it.

And yet, as I felt myself climb higher and higher from the well I was buried before, I knew it was only a matter of time until I faltered and fell down a few steps. Recovery was something I was used to by now, so relapse was a fact and I was prepared for it. It just didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared or devastated when the itch to hurt myself resurfaced again.

It happened while we were away on my first case since returning to the BAU. I was being aloof and I knew it, but I insisted that I was okay enough to go out on the field. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do this.

Boy, was I wrong.

Despite the fact that my distracted manner ended up putting Spencer’s life in danger, everything turned out okay and the unsub was caught. However, as we got stuck in our hotel for the night, since the jet wouldn’t be able to fly us back until the morning, all I could think about was how badly I had screwed up.

And the worst part was that no one shouted or even appeared to be angry at me. They were making sure to keep their true feelings hidden behind a barrier of fake understanding, so I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be, but the absence of an outlet only made it worse.

I could feel the voices rising again. Mocking me. Reminding me of how I couldn’t do anything right. How everyone probably hated me right now. I was spiraling, and quickly. The itch to scratch myself had already appeared and it was only a matter of time until my nails were bloodied.

But then, a knock resonated through the empty bedroom.

“Are you ok?” The sight of Aaron with those impenetrable eyes was enough to start to calm the waves of self-loathing, but I was still on edge. In all truth, I could barely speak, the embarrassment I felt for my own actions today still coursing through me.

“I’m still waiting for you to start screaming at me,” I admitted in a tiny voice, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. A good part of me was hoping for it, so I was prepared for any demonstration of anger that he could throw my way. “I feel like I should be in trouble.”

“That’s never going to happen.” He stepped into the room, hugging me to him as he closed the door behind us. We stayed like that for a while, him tightly holding me to his body as we slowly swayed in the same place. At least it forced my own hands to stay far away from my body.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” It escaped before I could realise I was even thinking about it. Aaron froze in his spot before carefully pulling away from me, his hands holding my head to look deep into my eyes. I felt myself melting despite my current state. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, I pushed him away gently before sitting down on the mattress, running a hand through my face. My mind was all over the place, making it difficult to focus on finding the right words to describe what I was going through at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” The tears started rolling then. It all became too much. My failure at work, the fact that I was letting him down, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt lost, and soon enough, that asphyxiating weight settled over my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Through the gaps between my fingers, I could see that he had knelt in front of me even before he reached for my hands, holding them so I couldn’t use them to hide anymore.

“I hate myself for what I did today, Aaron. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be in the BAU. God, what if something had happened to Spencer today? I… I have to cut myself, please let me get it out.” I tried to pull my hands from him, my need to scratch myself resurfacing even stronger again, but he held them tightly in his grip, stopping me from doing so.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

As I held onto her hands, I pulled her so she’d look at me again. “Sweetheart, please… Is there anything I could do?” It was so difficult to see the woman I loved like this, reduced to a crying mess, and not being able to help her. My heart physically ached as I held her against my chest, caressing her head in a feeble attempt to calm her down.

“Punish me, Aaron. Yell at me, say you hate me and that I don’t deserve you. Tell me you’re going to kick me out of the team.” Her broken sobs were taking away pieces of my heart little by little.

“I can’t do that, darling. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be the truth. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart, you made an honest mistake and everyone is entitled to that. I *love you. I could never hate you for something so silly and if anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. And our team needs you, Y/N. We weren’t complete until you arrived.”

Somehow, those didn’t seem like the right words to say. She literally started to tremble in my arms, a scream of agony leaving her lips. “Darling, tell me what I can do to help you, please. I want to help you.” She tried to free her arms to scratch her skin again, but I managed to hold her hands just in time. Suddenly, an idea struck me. An out-of-place reminder of a conversation held in different times, over a bottle of wine. “Alright, you want to be punished, get up.”

My voice hit the same tone it usually did when we were in the bullpen and I needed the team’s attention, so I quickly got hers. She immediately obeyed me, standing up to stare down at me as I remained seated at the edge of her bed. “I want you over my lap, right now.”

If there was any hesitation on my part about what I was doing, it went out of the window the second she threw herself over my legs. I stopped for a second, pondering over what I was about to do. I had never been one for physical punishment on Jack, since I had personal experience on how scarring that experience could be, but I could recognize this was of an entirely different nature. And despite my inexperience with this sort of sexual relationship before, the tightness in my pants warned me that at least a part of me was satisfied with it.

I ran my fingers through Y/N’s hair, appreciating her tiny shiver, a show of desire instead of pain, until I decided it was time to get on with it. Raising my hand in the air, I allowed it to fall over her backside, only strong enough so she could feel it. Y/N’s hands flew to my thigh, holding herself there so she’d be able to take it and I did it again, with more or less the same impact.

“Harder,” came her plea, and I hesitated only for a bit before obeying her request. Her voice hadn’t trembled for the first time in the evening and hearing it resemble her everyday assertiveness didn’t allow me any space to second guess our activities.

My next spank was undoubtedly harder than the last one, and I expected any sort of reaction from my girlfriend, except the broken moan she released after my hand fell over the right cheek of her ass.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t have it in me to even feel embarrassed about my instinctive reactions, especially since Aaron was giving me exactly what I needed. I didn’t know how he knew, I couldn’t think in the state I was in, but it had been too long since I had found myself in this type of relationship and I had forgotten how it provided me with exactly what I needed.

“Y-yes!” I couldn’t stop the shout that escaped my throat as he continued to slowly give me harder slaps. Although it was precisely what I had asked for, it still didn’t manage to give me the same effect I would have gotten from feeling it against my skin. That’s what made me suddenly scramble up to look him in the eye again.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He looked so concerned, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at me. I felt myself smiling despite the mess in my mind, just suddenly overcome with gratitude for having such an amazing creature worrying about me.

“Not at all. This is exactly what I need, I don’t know how you knew it.” I held his face between my hands, softly running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Would you… Would you do something else for me?”

His eyes searched mine quickly before nodding. “Anything.” I had to smile at his devoted tone, so I leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead before straightening up again and pulling my dress off my body.

His eyes devoured me whole, but he didn’t open his mouth to protest at seeing me only in my underwear again. I think he knew I respected his desire to wait until I was in better condition to have sex, so he must have had a pretty good idea of what I wanted.

With that in mind, I assumed my position over his lap again, enjoying the feeling of his pants against my practically naked body before calling out to him, “More, please.” He hesitated for a bit. I was about to get up and ask him to forget about this, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, when suddenly, his hand collided with my backside.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice sounded dark, and I felt a shiver run through my body as I nodded to his words. “Not good enough, little girl.” His hands pulled on my hair and I whimpered from the surprise and the pleasurable pain. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”

A wave of hotness flushed down my body and I could feel my panties getting wet from his words. Never, in a million years, did I expect to be in this position, over my boss’s lap, with Aaron practically talking dirty with such an erotic voice.

“I-I need this,” I finally whimpered, before shifting over his body to adjust my weight, in the hopes of getting some friction between my legs. I hoped I had been discreet, but when I felt my boyfriend’s fingers lightly grazing over my panties on the precise spot I knew would be soaked in a few seconds, I knew I had been caught.

“I can see that.” It was almost funny to hear the smugness in Aaron’s tone, but I couldn’t laugh at that moment. Not when he was pressing the lace of my panties against the emptiness that was throbbing with need, effectively ruining the tissue as it became attached to my pussy lips. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I wholeheartedly admitted, trying to force myself not to thrust back into his fingers.

“Hmm…” I could practically *hear his desire, and I thought back on how he had stopped himself from going further with me because he didn’t want to take advantage of me in this state. But it couldn’t really be considered taking advantage if it would help the person in need, right?

“Do you know what would help me even better?” I managed to ask, knowing I had picked up his interest by the way he softly caressed my backside.

“What would that be, little girl?” The nickname ignited every single nerve end on my body, and I had to bite back a moan as he unexpectedly slapped my ass again.

“Y-you, daddy.” I *felt his cock jump up at my own nickname for him and that awarded me another slap, harder than the last one.

“And how do you want your daddy, sweetheart?” My attention had completely abandoned his words as I felt his fingers brush up against me again, slowly pushing the fabric of my underwear aside and caressing my wetness in direct contact for the first time. But then another slap echoed around the room and I gasped, bucking into the fingers that were only barely penetrating me. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Inside of me, daddy.” A sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before my panties were being forcibly pushed down to my ankles.

“What won’t daddy do for you, little girl?” He asked just before pushing a single long finger inside of me. I almost cried from how amazing it felt after not being touched for so long, but then a thumb was playing with my tiny pearl and a full-on sob escaped me.

“Please, don’t stop, please!” I begged, pulling on the arm that wasn’t otherwise occupied with me, worried that he’d think he had hurt me. However, the response I got was a soft caress on my head in an attempt to calm me down when he managed to release his arm from my grasp.

“I won’t stop, sweet girl. Relax against your daddy and let him take care of you.” The words were like a balm to the mental cuts I had performed on myself, and my body instantly fell slack against his lap.

“There you go. *Such a good, little girl.” Each word from his last sentence was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his finger that led me to start moaning - rather loudly, I supposed - like the trembling mess that I was. Suddenly, my underwear was being taken away from me and pressed against my lips. “Open up, princess.” I eagerly obeyed, desperate to continue receiving his touches, which he immediately resumed with a particular tug on my hair.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“There you go. Can’t have anyone interrupting us now, can we, sweetheart?” It should feel weird how her broken sobs and moans made me grin from ear to ear, but I was too intoxicated by the power I felt to analyze the situation right now. I had wished for a way to help her. Now I had it. It was clear that this was what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her.

“You know, I’ve never done this before…” I started, carefully massaging her head with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with her pussy. “I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.” I pulled on Y/N’s hair again, just in time to watch as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm finally catching up to her after I quickened the motions from my fingers.

“So beautiful,” I absentmindedly whispered as I waited for her to come back to me, not stopping any of my movements, but simply slowing them down. At last, with one final shiver, her body fell limp on my lap and I took my fingers from her with a chuckle at the displeased whine she let out at the emptiness.

I pulled her up so she would be seated on my lap now, her face carefully enveloped by my hands as I searched her eyes after pulling out her panties from her mouth. “How are you feeling, my love?” It was impossible not to be affected by the way she simply melted against me.

“Better. I’m so much better, Aaron, thank you so much.” She hid her face on the crook of my neck and I felt warm and intoxicated at the same time. I wanted to cuddle her and protect her for the rest of her life, but I also wanted to be tightly snuggled inside of her like nothing else on the planet. The dichotomy of this woman was simply too much.

“You’re welcome, my love.” I continued caressing her hair while hugging her close to me, paying no attention to the fact that she was most likely ruining my pants. After a while, she pushed away from my chest to look me in the eyes again.

“What about you, honey?” I knew what she meant. But despite how aroused I felt, I knew it still wasn’t the right moment, so that’s why I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss, before picking her up and softly laying her on the bed.

“I’m already okay, darling. Don’t you worry about me.” Despite knowing she understood where I was coming from, she couldn’t help but pout at me, which made me chuckle. “Soon, alright?” I lightly traced her bottom lip with my thumb as she nodded solemnly at me. “Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

The way her eyes lit up made me feel like the most special man in the world. “Would you do that?” It hurt me that she’d even doubt, for a second, what I would do for her, especially since it was something that I would also benefit from.

“Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you. I won’t be here when you wake up, because we don’t want the team to notice anything, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” She watched me with sleepy eyes as I carefully took off my clothes, putting them over the chair so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and then climbed up on the bed next to her, pulling her to me so she’d fall asleep listening to my heartbeat dance for her.

She’d be alright. I’d make sure of it.

#aaron hotchner smut #smut #aaron hotchner #my series #aaron hotchner reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner ff #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader

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malibumiu · 3 years

Text

“Running doesn’t matter. I’ll hunt you down if I have to.”

aka Naejunko angst (?) idk this came from yandere prompt list so yea (Warning: Violence, guns)

enjoy!

“I have to keep running… I have to keep running… get up Makoto come on..” It's the mantra that he had to keep telling himself, he was close! Getting so close! To where? He wasn’t sure! But he knew he had to be close, somewhere! Anywhere! From that god forsaken base! He needed to find the others, surely they would be looking for him! That would mean they should be around the area surely with his luck the others would be able to find him or if his luck was being extra nice maybe he’d find them first!

Though a pain throb quick made him hiss in pain, staggering slightly as he took shelter in a half decrepit hotel lobby. Furniture was both turned and unturned glass and debris everywhere, the light from the maroon sky making it look more eerie than it should be. He quickly ducked down behind the receptionist desk, trying to make himself as small as he could manage, he would have gotten under completely but that would be rather hard when you have two arrows in your back. His entire body felt sore and tired, his wounds from his “executions” not having properly healed yet, he was sure a few of them had tore themselves open again already, he just prayed that there wasn’t a blood trail.

“Calm down Makoto..calm down..” he closed his eyes trying to steady his heart beat and control the trembling throughout his body, “Calm down,” another breath, “She probably has forgotten about you by now. Yeah that's it..” another, “ S-She found a new toy to play with, she has gotten over you..just focus on get out alive-”

Static crackles from above him catching his attention, with minimal pain he shot out from under the desk and found a CB radio, perfect! He quickly clamored up the mic and began fiddling with the dial Maybe it was a call for help?! Or Kyoko, or Byakuya-

“Makotoooo baby~ you're heaven sent you know so why are you SO hellbent on being such a bad boy to me~?”

Makoto dropped the mic slowly backing away from the radio..No...she- she couldn’t have! He already pulled the tracker arrow out from his thigh! How could she-?!

The radio let out static crackle, her voice felt closer; it was like he could still feel her on him, her breath, her perfume, her nails, just her.

“Makaroco babybabybaby~! You know I like a bad boy I do! With their cigarette smoke, motorcycles, bad attitude and all, so cooooool right!? But they also reek of insecurities, blood and cowardice. But you aren’t them baby, no.. you're my sweet little darling my little macarena~. OH! You're just so sugary sweet you probably gave me diabetes! That being said..” His mind felt like it was on autopilot at this point, he didn’t even realize that he had got up and started running again, until he landed on the ground with a thud and looked around, finding glass around him, ah he must have jumped out of a window. At least escaped-

“AS I WAS SAYING-“ With a screech of the sound system outside her voice came over again, “That being said Makoto, you have a weakness.. a big weakness baby and it's that you care entirely too much for people.”

He began to run, he didn’t care, he ignored the pain in his back and throbbing pain all over his body, he didn’t care he just needed to run, he needed to stop hearing her.

“Your- no.. OUR friends after all the shit they put you through you still cared for them, in the last trial you got them out of despair, they didn’t deserve it. Earlier you told them to direct all their anger toward me! The mastermind and in the end you couldn’t bring yourself to even fully hate me, you wanted to help me. How could I say no you babe?” “Babe?” he spat, letting out a dark chuckle, he could feel himself slowing down his limp “Yeah sure.”

“You know Makoto there's a lot I’d do for you, you know? It's SO weird honestly I can hardly believe it myself, a lot of things bore me but not you. You somehow keep my mind entertained, you keep me guessing, predicting! Even when we were in school and dating! But one thing was obvious, you were quite the popular guy herbivore. Those bitches would flock all over you! Both the main and reserve course, they were like leeches, those whores...trying to suck all the kindness out of you, probably hoping you’d knock them up with a kid and tie you down, I- i couldn’t have that we were dating after all! I tried to tell to back the fuck off; the main course girls grew their brains and did until valentines time day that is.. anyway those reserve skanks didn’t listen… so let’s just say.. I thought them a lesson? Oh makoto you should have been there. It was delightfully gross! Blood everywhere! Some remainders of guts Oh-! and one bitch even pissed herself it was fucking hilarious Mako!!”

Makoto could only lean against the wall in horror as the fashionista let out howls of laughter, meanwhile he felt even more guilt swelled in his heart. First his classmates and now some girls he doesn’t even know or remember were dead because of him?!

“That little incident cost me a good outfit and shoes but it was allllll worth it for you baby~. I couldn’t have you taken from me, your mine. MINE. I did soooo much for you Makoto! I marked you, loved you hell I even Killed for you! I was even such a loving girlfriend that I brought you to my base where I treated your injuries, gave you good meals, shelter and new friends! And you still leave me! How could you be so cruel Makoto Naegi?! HOW COULD YOU?!”

Said boy cringed at her cries, he couldn’t truly tell if they were actual tears or crocodile tears but even so it made him want to go and comfort her, hold her close and tell her everything was fine, no Junko- Murukro would probably still love you even after all you did-

“But no matter, I still forgive you. You’re just running because you want to be a cheeky little shit dontcha? You wanna play games huh? That’s ok babe, I like this game cat and mouse, prey vs predator, hide and seek? Tag even, games like these are rather fun especially when the mouse is a cute lil boy like you Makoto~ Oh~! I am ready to pounce ya! Rawr :3!”

It was at this point that Makoto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he looked around, there was no one around except for those of the dead and from what remained of the taller buildings he could see no one so... why did he feel like he was suddenly being watched? Before he knew it he started running again.

“But you should have already known Babe, running away is pointless because in the end Makoto Naegi I’ll always find you.”

Junko smiled as she clicked off the microphone for a moment to line up her shot. She looked in the scope again to make sure that he was there and he was probably because of the limp in his run, that fall in the pit and the swords did a multitude on him. And though it hurt her poor maiden heart to see him like this, it definitely made it easier for her. Normally this would be Izuru’s job but this time however he was waiting a block away with the car to scoop him up before he bled out to death. She checked the barrel of the sniper rifle once more, the upgrades Izuru did the bullets should disable him for a while. She looked back into the scope, lining up the shot once more, laying her finger gently on the trigger while her other hand reached for the mic. She held it close, her eye watching him like a hawk as she watched his sad effort of a run.

“But please remember that I’m doing this because I love you Makoto.”

She pulled the trigger without hesitation and watched as he fell to the ground, wriggling around on the ground in pain as he cradled his knee in agony. Then the strangest thing happened: he stopped, and he...started to crawl?! What the hell?! Why wasn’t staying put like a good boy?! Nononono this wouldn’t do! She knew he was rather stubborn and (she said so herself) unpredictable but now was not the time for that!

She looked back into the scope to line up and take the shot again. Taking the second shot wasn’t hard, especially since he wasn’t as much of a moving target as the first time. She made to pop his other knee or maybe it was his thigh? She wasn’t too sure but she did know it didn’t hit a non vital area so he should be good and he looked to be down for the count finally.

“Kamukuraaaaaaa~” she sung into walkie talkie that was attach to her coat, “Be a dear and go the little rascal will ya~? Mama can’t have her big catch lying on the street once you get him, be sure to come back around and get me too Kk? Gooooood!”

Clicking off she sighed and began to pack up, she knew Makoto would be fine after all she did make sure not him in non-vitals areas but with these new injuries on top of his probably already reopened previous wounds. He would probably be bedridden for a bit, but that would be fine by her, it would only insure that he’s incapable of leaving-leaving her. He didn’t need his friends, his friends clearly had no trouble discarding him in the 5th trial, so why would they need him now? She needed him, not his hope or anything, just him. His optimism, kindness, comfort, warmth and love that's all she wanted. She would be damned if she let anyone take him from her. Didn’t they know? Junko Enoshima always got what she wants no matter the cost. Even if it required bloodshed.

#naejunko #makoto naegi #junko enoshima #fic #danganronpa #prompts

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 7: poisoning

don’t blame the unicorn

summary

“Peter?” asks Morgan. “Why are you all red like ketchup? ‘Cept around your eyes, like Aunt Nebby’s raccoon friend?”

“Because Peter didn’t listen to his wise mentor and put sunblock on,” says Tony.

“Oh, Pete, that looks really bad,” Pepper says, reaching her hand to his forehead.

“Don’t touch,” says Peter, stepping backwards.

Peter falls asleep floating, but he wakes up on fire.

His skin aches, it cracks and it breaks against the hot plastic underneath him, against, even, the smooth surface of his sunglasses. He wants off this ride. He wants to dip off the giant, inflatable unicorn he had loved before his nap, and into the lake, where the cold water is sure to put out these flames.

It’s a delicate situation, though. The thought of moving at all, the idea of rubbing his skin against the plastic even further, is traumatizing. It keeps him pinned to that unicorn, under the blazing, bright sun, subject to its torturing gaze.

He decides it has to be fast, like Flash to the lunchroom, or like MJ to her favorite true crime podcast. He closes his eyes, and he flips his body into the lake.

Peter loses his sunglasses when he’s under water, but doesn’t care enough to splash around for them. The coolness he’s engulfed in is soothing, though there’s still fire under his skin, and a sun above his head. He swims to shore, emerging just in time to greet Pepper, Tony, and Morgan by the dock.

“Peter?” asks Morgan. “Why are you all red like ketchup? ‘Cept around your eyes, like Aunt Nebby’s raccoon friend?”

“Because Peter didn’t listen to his wise mentor and put sunblock on,” says Tony.

“So sunburns are real?”

“Of course they’re real. I wouldn’t lie.”

Morgan frowns, kicks at some grass, and miserably says, “All I know is broccoli never gave me any superpowers.”

“That’s because you haven’t eaten enough of it yet.”

Pepper looks at Tony like she wants to slap him, before her face folds into concern when she pulls her attention to Peter.

“Oh, Pete, that looks really bad,” she says, reaching her hand to his forehead.

“Don’t touch,” says Peter, stepping backwards.

“He needs a cold bath,” she tells Tony, still grimacing. “And some Aloe, I’ll run out and get some. You need to check his temperature. He might have a fever.”

Tony nods, and Pepper marches on, straight to the business of running off to the drug store to pick up the aloe.

“Alright, angry bird, let’s get you out of the sun and into the bath.”

Peter growls at the annoying nickname, but his skin hurts too badly to do anything except make futile noises of complaint.

Peter sits in the cool bath, still wearing his swim trunks. He tries to keep his eyes open, but they’re heavy. Apparently the sun had zapped his energy while it fried him.

Cool water against burnt skin it’s a strange duality. It’s a feeling he thinks he might appreciate more if it weren’t for the nauseous feeling creeping up in his belly, or the way his head and eyes along with his skin, or the way he just wants to be asleep.

“Ok hellboy,” says Tony, as he walks into the bathroom with supplies. “Open your mouth.”

“Please stop with the nicknames,” mutters Peter. He opens his mouth, and Tony puts the thermometer in and clicks the on button.

“No promises.”

Peter knows before it starts beeping that he’s got a fever. It’s just his luck, and he feels awful enough to be considered sick without the fever.

Tony takes the thermometer, looks at it, and sighs, before putting it down on the sink. “Am I a bad parent if I say I told you so? About the sunscreen?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t say it.”

“Technically you already did say it,” says Peter. He’s tempted to splash some water in Tony’s direction, but the effort that would require is too great. “How bad is the fever?”

“Not ER bad,” says Tony. “More like your ass is gonna be resting for the rest of the weekend bad.”

“Great.”

“Could be worse.”

“Don’t really see how.”

Peter had been looking forward to a weekend away from the city, from the responsibility of Spider-Man and school. Tony’s lake house is the perfect escape, unless you fall asleep on the giant, floating unicorn. Now the only relaxing he’s going to get is accompanied by painful burns, a fever and Tony’s constant mother-henning.

“I’m gonna murder that unicorn,” says Peter. “I’m gonna take a kitchen knife -”

“-yeah, no,” says Tony. “If you do that, Morgan will just have me resurrect it with patches. And don’t blame the unicorn. Next time wear sunblock.”

Peter groans, and Tony hands him a bottle of water and two small pills.

“Two supercharged Ibuprofen for the super red kid,” says Tony.

He plops the pills in his mouth, unscrews the lid to the water bottle, and gulps down some water, swallows the pills. He tries handing the water back off to Tony, but the man won’t accept it.

“Sip on it. Google says you need to stay hydrated.”

“Does Google say how long I have to stay in this bath?”

“Until you’re ready to come out.”

Tony leaves the bathroom and comes back with a change of clothes for Peter, the aloe Pepper had gotten for him and a tube of hydrocortisone lotion. Before he leaves Peter to change, he stops him with one last request.

“Can you put a Gatorade in the freezer?”

“Sure,” says Tony. “But, water first.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Peter. Tony starts to leave again. “Wait!”

“Yes?”

“You gotta set the timer. For the Gatorade. So it’s just right, and it’s half slushy.”

“Got it. Gatorade slushy.”

“And it has to be Glacier Cherry.” Peter yells as Tony tries to leave again.

Tony stops, puts a hand on the doorframe, and looks at Peter. “Anything else, prince of the red Sour Patch kids?”

“And some crackers.”

“For someone who complains about my hovering, you sure seem to be taking advantage of it.”

Tony manages to get away that time, before Peter can tell him there’s a difference between demanding slushies and crackers and having him shove a thermometer at him.

Peter wakes with a whimper.

He’s cold, and hot, and his legs are tangled up in his blankets. Trying to free himself only makes him dizzy, or at least causes him to remember how dizzy he’d been before falling asleep. He falls from his bed in the struggle, knocking an empty Gatorade bottle from his nightstand, then thumps to the floor. A rubber straw landing near his head.

And his room is spinning with his fever. The carpet rubs against the burns on his face, his head pounds, and all Peter can do is cling to the floor, holding on for dear life.

Until he can focus, with his ears, on a heartbeat that gets closer and closer.

“Peter?” asks Tony. “Buddy, what are you doing on the floor?”

“‘urts,” is all Peter manages to say.

“It’d probably help to be up on your bed.”

“Can’t move,” says Peter. He digs his fingers into the carpet.

Tony helps him to his feet, avoiding his burnt skin by lifting him up from under his arms. Peter sits on the bed, and wobbles, until he has enough sense to lay his head back down on the pillow and let Tony work out the blankets.

“Alright,” says Tony, throwing the blanket over him. “No more falling out of bed.”

Peter nods his head a little.

“Glad we understand each other,” says Tony. “So, you stay here, and I’ll be back.”

Peter watches Tony leave, and it isn’t long before his back with more water, more pills, and a cold washcloth. He sits on the edge of Peter’s bed, and waits until he’s gotten the pills down to take the water bottle back.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn’t,” says Tony. “My alarm did.”

Peter frowns, and he elaborates.

“I set my alarm for when it was time for you to have another dose of the pain meds,” says Tony. “The thought of you laying in here all french fried and in pain would’ve made me miserable in the morning.”

“Oh,” says Peter. “Thanks.”

“What else am I here for?” he whispers. “Now go back to sleep. Let those super healing powers do their magic.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. His eyes slide shut, and Tony presses the cold wash cloth against his forehead. Sleep comes fast, thanks to the soothing coolness, and the steady, gentle beat of Tony’s heart.

3 weeks later

The sun is blaring down, but Peter doesn’t care. He’s remembered his sunscreen.

He looks at his giant, inflatable avocado with pride. Way better than a unicorn, he decides. After his experience with sun poisoning, anything is better than a unicorn, but if he’s going to lay about the lake all day long, it might as well be on the super fruit.

“Why are you so white?” asks Morgan. “Like a ghost?”

“I think that’s what we call overcorrecting, Morguna,” says Tony.

“There’s no such thing as too much sunscreen,” says Peter. He double thinks, and gives Pepper a worried look. “Right?”

“Right,” she assures him.

“Good,” says Peter, with a sigh of relief.

His skin had peeled for at least a week after being traumatized by the sun, and he’s determined to never let that happen again. Even if he has to use a whole bottle of sunblock every hour. Even if he never looks at the unicorn again.

Peter sets his avocado in the lake to sail, and drifts away, this time sun-protected and ready to safely nap.

#febuwhumpdayseven #poisoning #fever #sick Peter parker #irondad #irondad fic #my fic

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what-is-your-plan-today · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers and plugger of mind gaps where I was blocked… @southerngracela and @icanfeelastormbrewing

Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation he was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.” He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. He gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie turned to him.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it sir.” She nodded, “The Hydra Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too, you know, give that time to recover as well or…”

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” Howard arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round her blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing.” She took a deep breath, “But I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. “Schmidt must become that superior man.” He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him.

“I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on Hydra.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase Hydra?”

She shrugged, “It seems logical to me. A lunatic he maybe, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same Rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, Hydra is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of Hydra. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir, that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need.” Howard groaned, “Two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You…” he then looked at Howard, “Take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. And you…” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “Take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine had set up. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine.” He looked at her, “In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel…well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe but, well, I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious Rogers.” Howard smirked, “She said the magic word.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on Hydra. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? Hydra was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like “super strength”, “increased stamina”, “enhanced metabolism”, “fast healing”, “super-sharp senses”, “memory expansion”, “logical improvement”. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted.” She shrugged, “And I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow, “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t…say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood.” Howard held his hands up as the doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The doctor smiled, “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly.

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

“Nope.” She shrugged, “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after Hydra in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that Hydra submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “He’d have been proud this had worked.”

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of he and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “But there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “But without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her.

“We’re not even close to this technology,” he finished by means of an explanation.

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded SIMPLY. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division,” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up. “But he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated. “They worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being retasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You...are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s…”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “Keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But…”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack just like Agent Carter did when I told her to.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat before she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he turned back to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being…”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me,” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight…me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “Good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit besides him. “And I can understand how frustrated you feel, believe me I can.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “What?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “What’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I mean, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “Or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah…” she shrugged. “You know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was, ” Steve smiled with a short nod. “Kind, compassionate…just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said you know, the other night before we…you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not so lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “Coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s meant to be no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of right place, right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

“Yup…” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little “it definitely sucks.”

“Stay safe soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “Would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt the smile fade from his face to be replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

November 1943.

“I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable and cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt drawing of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with Adolph himself. And he was no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song had dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and had no doubt been happily trudged through the mud and beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up. Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend not only the Senator a little but also his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“ Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It sounded familiar…so, maybe there was a chance it could be another Barnes, maybe? It was a common name, after all…and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines.

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “But if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

“I might just be a chorus girl, but I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away… “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers #captain america #katie stark #stark spangled #chris evans #steve rogers x original female character #chris evans characters

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gaycism · 3 years

Text

// incoherent rant time

sorry to plague your timelines with this but here goes.

since i graduated from college in 2017 i've been feeling pure exhaustion from a multitude of sources: years of unresolved family issues and trauma, academic burnout, the loss of friendships, and the all-consuming specter of good ol Capitalism. these things were only exacerbated by the pandemic, prior to which i was feeling motivated to move forward and tackle the next step in my life. getting over the initial culture shock of the pandemic, i had to address these things all over, but deeper. as mitski once said to her fellow libras (paraphrasing): "ask yourself if you really want that thing."

i moved back home after graduating in 2017 and i'm starting to find some truth in the idea that "living at home with your parents seems nice at first until you realize the cost is your sanity." this is something i feel is mostly related to capitalism. if not for the requirement that one must find a career to be able to pay for necessities, i feel that more parents would be less hellbent on reminding you of that. this is what seems like the center of my issues. i have a degree, but careers with my degree require higher education (four more years) PLUS years of training at a low salary. this means that not only would i have to take out loans in the years of grad school to pay for tuition, housing, etc (i won't be able to work during school), but i would also have to take out loans in the years of training where i would be making a low salary. the jobs i can get now are mostly 9-5s at a lower end wage. my mom doesn't understand the conditions of the job market and says "you're not making enough money for someone with a degree," which, if anyone here knows, couldn't be further from the truth in today's age. we see the stories of harvard graduates with 100s of thousands in debt working at starbucks, which i'm not trying to suggest is shameful, it's just how the job market is. no matter how many times i try to tell her this, she says "trust me, i'm your mother, i know these things." so not only do i have some debt now, but if i were to go to graduate school and beyond, it would only become more and more insurmountable.

during the first two years of the pandemic, three very traumatic events happened in my life, only few days apart. they rendered me numb for months, although i couldn't articulate this before. my mom often asks when i'm going to apply to grad schools and i've tried discussing the aforementioned barriers and how the pandemic affected me with my mom. she responded with "i don't understand how that could affect you applying to grad schools" and simply saying "ok." at times she has even told me "i don't think you're giving it enough effort" despite me expressing my overall exhaustion. i was shaken. and just typing it out brings tears to my eyes. what do you say to that? what do you say as someone who also does not understand how you (I) could not power through not one but three traumatic events and "just get it done" as my mom bluntly says so frequently? am i supposed to just shove away things that affect me emotionally? do i just accept the fact that i could never be accepted to grad school, but if i do manage to accomplish that, just accept decades of debt hoping for a miracle to be able to pay it off? how do i just take the chronic fatigue to the chest and "just get it done"?

my mom is a virgo in the truest sense, she's a go-getter. if something affects her, she's able to compartmentalize and accomplish what she set her mind to despite... really anything it seems. i thought i was similar, but i was wrong. i try to deal with all things at once, and while i'm still able to work and do things i like to do, at times i'm just tired. i don't want to place the entire blame on my mother, it's not her fault that i got myself in this mess, however her stubbornness is just something i can no longer deal with. and the lack of compassion and empathy just makes me feel worse about my situation (also side note my dad can catch heat too, but he's not as involved in my life).

despite all this, today i feel like i am in an even better place than i was just before the pandemic started, but it's taking everything out of me to reach this realization. i've had to accept that everyone is on a different timeline to their goal, and that's ok. i've had to accept that there are things i cannot change, wounds i cannot heal alone. generational trauma that i can't fix backward, only forward. recently, living "at home" is starting to feel like a narrowing corridor i must escape at all costs, even if that means being placed in overbearing financial debt.

/ end of rant

#// long post #// rant

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deansmom · 3 years

Text

ao3 link

Dean finds him in the bunker.

Sam is with Eileen, doing something Dean doesn’t want to know about - maybe making little Sam’s or something.

He’s exhausted when he gets home. He barely has the wherewithal to take off his dirty boots at the garage door.

His shoulders ache and his neck cracks as he rubs it, a small groan escaping his lips. He hasn’t stopped smiling.

Dean hears the air kick on, the old vents in the bunker shaking with the effort to warm the place up, just as he opens his bedroom door.

And he’s just... there.

He’d wondered the whole drive home if Jack had done it. If Jack had managed to really bring everyone back.

And there he is. Castiel is just standing there in his suit, trench coat thrown across the bed. Looking the same as he did before the Empty took him.

He looks nervous. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say that Cas looks terrified.

And fuck, Dean knows he’s not good at this, but -

“Did you know?” Dean drops his bag next to the dresser, his eyes never leaving Cas.

Castiel’s face contorts slightly, confused that this is what he chose for his opening line.

“I...”

He squints, and Dean is suddenly reminded that while Cas will never admit it, Dean thinks he needs glasses. It makes him smile despite how nervous he is now.

“Did I know what, Dean?”

Here he was, thinking there was a giant neon sign on his forehead, making him look like an idiot all these years. All these years that Dean’s just been working on the assumption that Cas couldn’t actually, y’know, fall in love with anyone, and worrying that everyone knew and he just -

Castiel really didn’t know.

Dean takes a step forward and reaches out to grab Cas’s hand, but thinks better of it. He should probably focus if he’s actually going to try to say something.

“I, um,” he shifts uncomfortably, a hand coming up to rub his neck again. “I’m not - I’m not good at this, Cas, ok? So like...” Dean licks his lips, nervously glancing at him, “Just, let me get this out.”

Castiel’s face has softened, but he clearly doesn’t know what Dean’s about to say and he’s not sure if the ache in his chest means he wants to cry or laugh about it.

“I...”

Dean has to look away for a moment. It’s embarrassing as hell, but sometimes it feels like Cas can see all the way into his soul (he probably can). Nobody knows him as well as Castiel does, and nobody in all his 40-something years on this earth can make him feel as vulnerable. Having that connection with someone means more to Dean than he’ll ever admit, he knows that, but still… it makes it hard to think.

“Look, I, uh, I really thought you knew...” he laughs a little bit, smiling to himself. “I mean hell, every fucking angel and demon never shut up about it to me, anyways.”

Dean takes a beat before going over to his bed abruptly, feeling antsy with it.

Maybe if he keeps moving, maybe if he makes himself a moving target Castiel won’t be able to see how fucking scared he is.

The thought makes Dean literally stop in his tracks because it’s the first time he’s admitted that, even to himself. He drops down onto his bed with the weight of the realization, and it’s all Dean can do not to laugh at himself. He’s scared.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

It comes out as more of a whisper than anything, and Dean sighs, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s feet.

“I don’t know, I just... I kinda always thought it would be me, y’know?” He finally looks up and catches Cas’s eye, smiling. “Last ditch, last night on earth thing. It’s my best line.”

Castiel huffs, slowly walking over to sit on the bed with Dean.

“I guess I just...” Dean keeps his eyes on their feet, hoping he doesn’t chicken out.

“I thought you knew... and I guess I thought that you just...” He shrugs, feeling dumb saying it now, “I don’t know. Didn’t love me or whatever.”

Castiel sets a hand on Dean’s thigh and almost all of the tension drains out of his body.

It’s kind of embarrassing how easily Cas can play him. Pluck all the right strings, strum all the right chords, and make Dean putty in his hands.

For years, he’s wondered if Cas knows, if he does it on purpose – the looks he gives Dean sometimes, the carefully placed hands when he’s upset, the way he heals him even. There’s a part of him that thinks Castiel isn’t doing it on purpose, and then sometimes he gives him this look and it’s just…

Castiel interrupts his train of thought with a sigh, “Dean...”

He looks up without meaning to and almost chokes on all the emotions he’s trying to sort through when he sees the look on Castiel’s face.

“I suppose we both were...” Castiel is so earnest and it drives Dean insane.

“Idiots.”

Dean let’s out a loud bark of a laugh, his forehead falling onto Castiel's shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess we were.”

An arm wraps itself around Dean’s back, half a second before he feels Castiel kiss his head.

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Dean mumbles.

His fingers have grabbed Castiel’s tie and he’s fidgeting with it, trying to keep himself busy so he doesn’t do something stupid.

It’s been omnipresent for years now. An immutable truth that Dean’s been running from for years, because, well...

Castiel has ruined him.

If he left and never came back, Dean wouldn’t survive it.

Sure, he’d try to keep going, if only because he knows that anything else would just hurt him. And he’s so tired, so fucking tired, of hurting Cas.

He thinks about that for a moment before moving so he can meet Castiel’s eyes, “Hey...”

Dean sets a hand on his cheek without thinking about it. Castiel’s arm falls so his hand is resting on Dean’s hip instead of his arm.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Castiel huffs, amused. “If I had, would it have been received well?”

Dean thinks about it for a minute, his thumb absently running over the lines on Castiel’s face.

He’s had his mojo back for a while, but this isn’t a vessel anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time. And at some point, over the last couple years, Castiel started looking Dean’s age.

It’s a good look on him.

“Cas,” he starts, his hand settling on the back of his angel’s head. “You remember what Hester said?”

Dean does. He remembers it vividly. Between that and the Mark, he’s had a hell of a time the last decade trying not to drown with the guilt of bringing everyone he loves down.

Castiel hums, the hand on Dean’s hip rubbing absentmindedly, “Vaguely.”

He hadn’t been himself back then. That Cas had scared the shit out of Dean.

“She said that the very touch of me corrupts...”

His voice is quiet, damn near soft even.

“That when you laid a hand on me in Hell or whatever...” Dean sighs, “You were lost.”

The hand that’s been playing with Castiel’s tie comes up to rest, open palmed, on his chest. Feeling his chest move out of nothing more than habit, nothing more than something Cas does to make Dean feel comfortable, grounds him.

“I don’t know when I fell in love with you,” he admits after a moment. “Over the years I’ve tried to pinpoint a moment -“ Dean chuckles, “The moment, I guess... when it happened.”

He’s smiling now, even though he’s terrified.

He has nothing to be scared of, he knows that now. But Dean’s never been good at this stuff - the feelings stuff. Vulnerability.

He’s spent his whole life trying not to get hurt out there fighting monsters. Dean still hasn’t figured out how to differentiate a broken heart from a mortal wound - they feel the same.

“For a while I thought,” Dean starts, stopping himself after a beat.

Castiel leans forward, his forehead coming to rest against Dean’s.

“For a long time, I thought it was that moment in Chuck’s kitchen...” He sighs, closing his eyes after a moment, “When you threw everything away. For me.”

“I did it because it was the right thing to do,” Castiel reminds him quietly.

Dean huffs, a couple tears spilling out, “Yeah, yeah I know.”

They’ve had this fight before. That Castiel has always been in control of his destiny, of his choices and Dean wasn’t to feel responsible for any of them. It wasn’t his fault. Castiel made all of his choices that Dean felt guilty for, all on his own. And he’d make those choices all over again, if presented the opportunity.

He sniffs, laughing when he feels one of Castiel’s hands wipe the tears away, “But, Cas, you... you had me.”

Dean opens his eyes up so he can look at Cas.

He’s crying too and Dean finds himself laughing again, both of his hands coming up to Castiel’s face. He wipes the tears away as they fall, his chest aching with how much he loves him.

“I think I was lost too,” Dean admits. “I think I’ve been in love with you this whole time. From the moment you touched me in hell, I think-“

Dean clears his throat, trying to collect himself.

“Damn it.” He tries to laugh but it comes out more like a sob, “I really didn’t want to cry.”

At that, Castiel actually laughs and he’s got that big, gummy smile on his face. The one that makes Dean feel like he’s a kid again and his first crush laughed at his joke. Makes Dean feel like he accomplished something.

“It’s okay,” Cas promises him. He looks like he wants to say more but he can’t come up with anything except, “It’s okay.”

Dean shakes his head, all the feelings he’s been trying to ignore for the last twelve years washing over him at once, “‘S not ok.”

He never imagined telling Cas any of this where he wasn’t dying. He never let himself imagine that Cas felt the same way. He never believed that this - it might turn out ok for Dean.

Castiel pulls Dean into a full body hug, pressing kisses all over his head when Dean hides his face in his neck.

“I love you so much you stubborn, infuriating man,” Cas says in between kisses.

It startles a laugh out of Dean and he tightens his arms around Cas.

Castiel uses his strength to move them so they’re laying together on Dean’s bed. The bed isn’t quite big enough for the two of them to fit comfortably, but Cas makes a good pillow.

Stupidly, in between the hiccuped sobs Dean can’t seem to stop, it occurs to him that he’s going to need a bigger bed.

What a bizarrely wonderful thought.

Castiel rubs his back through it, mumbling in enochian periodically. Dean’s not sure if he’s talking to himself or Dean but he doesn’t really care.

Cas is here. And he loves Dean.

After a little while Dean sniffs, his grip on Cas loosening. He hadn’t realized how tired he was.

The hand that had been running through his hair stills momentarily, “Go to sleep, Dean.”

He wants to, but he lifts his head up enough to look at Cas first. He’s definitely getting soft in his old age, because Cas smiles like he knows what Dean’s thinking before he gets to say it.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” he promises. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Dean does.

When he wakes up, he has no idea how long it’s been.

His neck aches from the weird angle and his face feels a little sticky from the tears and the drool (gross). Above him, Castiel is snoring quietly, his face soft.

Dean’s heart jumps at the sight.

Dean rolls over so he’s completely on top of Cas, groaning with the effort.

Jesus, he’s too old to be sharing beds like this.

For all the weight that’s shifted onto him suddenly, Castiel doesn’t even stir a little bit.

That’s okay.

Dean gave Cas a lot of shit for it over the years, but it just felt weird. Cas could see him in his most vulnerable state and, well... angels didn’t sleep.

Cas did in purgatory. Dean would watch him sometimes when he couldn’t turn his brain off.

He’s beautiful when he sleeps.

He doesn’t need to sleep, hasn’t since he was human, but Cas enjoys it. He admitted to Dean once after a couple drinks that it was the only time, he truly experienced silence... peace.

‘Heaven is peaceful, in a sense,’ he’d admitted, his eyes on the melting ice in his glass. ‘But it’s so loud, Dean. That much love and grief in one place, it’s... deafening.’

Castiel had said that Dean was the most caring human on earth. Dean wonders if he knows how much that isn’t true.

He knows that he cares too much, too deeply, it’s something he’s hated for years. Can’t separate himself from the job, can’t help but feel the heartbreak of people they meet on cases, to carry their grief with him.

But Castiel has the biggest, most forgiving heart Dean’s ever seen. Sometimes he’s jealous that Cas can feel so much, and not let it destroy him so completely. Not let it debilitate him.

He wonders if Castiel knows what a good person he is. Wonders if he knows how much he’s inspired Dean to be better, to be kinder, to not be so scared of feeling so much.

He presses a kiss to Castiel’s cheek without thinking about it.

“You scare the hell out of me, man,” Dean whispers, tracing a finger over Castiel’s shirt. “I thought I was going to end up like Bobby for the longest time... a grumpy old fuck with nobody but a dog I barely liked to come home to at night...”

He sighs quietly, snuggling close to Cas again, “That was the best-case scenario... I never really thought I’d make it this long. Thought I’d die in a fight, too young and too little time on this rock. Hunters don’t really retire, you know?”

The heat kicks on again, the old system clunking to life around them.

“And then you brought me back to life... y’know, that night in the barn, I was terrified. I thought I was gonna shit myself for a second there-“ Dean snorts a little, “Bobby too. But then...”

He smiles against Castiel’s neck, “Every time you showed up it felt like I couldn’t breathe, man. Made me feel like everything was off kilter. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t... I couldn’t stop thinking about you when you weren’t around.”

Dean hooks his ankle around Cas’s, “It wasn’t until after Zach sent me to that alternate universe that I figured out why... that us, that Cas and Dean, they were... I don’t know.”

They’d been a thing, clearly, but it had freaked Dean out how much they fought. How much that Dean hated what his Castiel did. How guilty both of them had felt watching him.

“When it clicked,” he sighs, his voice still quiet. “You got scary again. I didn’t want to do that to you - to break you like that. You deserved better than that.”

He doesn’t say that the realization of how much he was in love with Cas freaked him out because for the first time, maybe ever, Dean felt like he had something to lose. Before Cas, dying was scary but it was whatever. If he died saving someone, it would be worth it.

After Cas?

Dying meant that he wouldn’t get to see him smile anymore. He wouldn’t get to hear Castiel’s laugh, the real one that makes Dean feel like putty. He wouldn’t get to introduce him to all the wonderful things about the world, about being human. Loving Cas made everything feel like it had a purpose, like he had something to live for, something to fight for.

Knowing that somebody cared about him who wasn’t under some sort of obligation to care, it just… it was impossible to wrap his head around for the longest time. And then when he did, when he was able to accept that Castiel cared about him… if he let himself think about that too much he’d be paralyzed with it.

Dean grew up thinking he’d be lucky to make it to 30.

And the idea of one person, forever, or even just a life beyond that - beyond hunting, beyond monsters, beyond what the universe had planned out for him - was terrifying.

Now, he’s here on the wrong side of 40, and the love of his life sleeping underneath him.

Not only that, but Chuck’s not god anymore. For the first time in his life, Dean’s got some honest to god free will.

Huh.

He wonders if Cas remembers that night after his date, when he was human, and what they’d talked about.

He wonders if Cas remembers the idea of a bed and breakfast for hunters.

Wonders if he remembers Dean trying to describe his dream without outright saying, ‘And you’d be there, with me.’ Because he didn’t deserve Castiel then, and he barely deserves him now, but at some point, Cas became just as important as Sam. Maybe more, in a different way.

This love that Dean feels for Castiel is big and loud and messy, and it always has been. Even in the quiet moments of grief, it’s always felt like a siren going off in his chest. It’s bigger than anything Dean’s ever felt before... and until the other day, he had no idea that Cas loved him too.

They’re both so stupid.

Thinking about it now, it makes sense. Castiel loves so fully, it’s absurd to Dean that he didn’t see it. He knows Cas better than he knows anyone, better than Sam even, and Dean was so distracted by his own love that he didn’t see it.

And maybe that’s the difference - Dean’s love is loud and, in your face, and suffocating. It’s so loud that sometimes Dean can’t even hear it over his own screaming over it.

But Castiel? His love is quiet and deliberate, private even, and so purposeful that if he doesn’t want you to know, you’ll miss it. He loves with every fiber of his being and he gives people he loves the ability to destroy him so easily that it scares Dean.

Well... they might have that one in common.

Castiel was it for Dean the second he laid hands on him in Hell.

Dean was it for Castiel when he saw such a bright, pure soul stay so vibrant and defiantly good in Hell.

As soon as the realization hits Dean all over again that this, this right here, is everything he’s always wanted and been too scared to admit -

Castiel kisses Dean’s ear, “I know, Dean. You don’t have to say it.”

Dean pushes himself up so his arms are framing Castiel’s head. He needs to look at him when he says it.

“I love you, Cas. So much it scares me.”

Castiel just smiles, understanding radiating off of him, “Me too.”

His arms give out after a minute, sending Dean down onto his angel (or maybe Dean feels like they’re too far apart now that they can do this).

Dean huffs, a bit petulant, “Stay.”

“Okay,” Castiel promises, his arms coming up to wrap around Dean.

“Forever,” he requests after a moment.

An indelicate snort escapes Cas, but he just presses a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head.

“Of course.”

#deancas text #deancas fix it #destiel text #deancas #mackenzie attempts fics #otp: cursed or not #personal #this is sappy I've been trying to write this for WEEKS NOW lmao

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foreverandaday-1 · 3 years

Text

Tenderly They Turned To Dust All That I Adored

Inspired by @julielilac s post/gif on the doctor and the master. The first 14 lines of a dialogue are hers, with a few minor changes.

I kind of went on a tangent, and turned this into a weirdly tense hurt/comfort fic, but oh well. Also inspired by my Renamed fic on AO3, under foreverandaday_1

‘Doctor,’ came a voice from the shadowed corner.

‘We meet at last,’ said the woman, equally as wary, yet with a predatory sharpness to her eyes. She wanted answers, and she would get them.

‘I’d like to say I’m glad to see you, but I’m not,’ he said, a slight teasing note, something comfortable but still wary.

‘Shame. I was actually hoping for a welcome for a welcome kiss,’ she returned, voice relaxed slightly.

‘Oh really?’ was his reply, full of put-on amusement to mask the confusion at her unusual playfulness. Yet playfulness wasn’t right, unless describing the way a lion played with its soon-to-be-dead food.

‘I was joking,’ her tone was back to serious.

‘Right. So why are you here then?’

‘I’m looking for answers and you are well aware of this. Who or what the timeless child is, and why you destroyed our home,’ she raised her eyebrows, as if offended by his question, it was obvious what she wanted.

He huffed out a laugh, looking amused. She didn’t notice his slight twinge when moving his ribs.

‘Also, what happened to your hair?’ curiosity was evident in her voice, and she was trying not to compliment him. Luckily she was distracted by the hopefully-soon-to-be-given answers.

‘There were difficulties in escaping from the Kasaavin Dimension.’

‘And yet you were able to escape?’

He huffed, ‘no thanks to you.’

‘You were expecting me to help? Why would I put you somewhere, that took effort and time, just to bring you back out again? A little counterproductive don’t you think?’

‘As if I’d want help from you.’

She smirked, ‘so no help with your injury?’

‘What injury?’ he played off.

‘You’re ribs, I saw you wince.’

‘I’m perfectly capable, thanks.’

‘Manners? Take off your shirt Kos.’

‘Trying to undress me?’

She sighed, crossing her arms.

‘I’m fine.’

She raised her eyebrows.

‘Ok, ok, maybe I could collapse within an hour, but it’s not that bad.’

‘Shirt. Off.’

‘Fine. you’re ever so bossy, love. I can’t say it’s just in this regeneration either.’

She ignored his comments, and, thankfully, only slightly affected by the pet name. ‘That looks painful. No wonder you were wincing,’ she moved closer, ‘go lay on the table.’

He rolled his eyes before doing as she said, flinching slightly as he bent his torso. She prodded at the bruised skin of his chest. There was a slightly green glow coming from the deep purple bruised across his lower right ribs. She tried not to enjoy inflicting pain, but sometimes it was nice to have revenge, even if that reinstated her hypocrisy.

‘So,’ he said after a few minutes, ‘you going to do anything?’

‘I want an explanation of what the hell happened to you later.’

‘Of course, love.’

Well there’s an easier way and a harder way.’

‘For me or for you?’

‘Easy for me, painful for you. Easy for you, stupid for me.,’ she tilted her head, thinking. His mental barriers were just out of reach. Even though it was a bad idea to get closer again, she wanted to. The last time before the Paris thing had been centuries ago, and sometimes her mind felt empty. Lonely without another presence.

‘Well I vote the least painful way.’

‘For me or for you?’ her voice was looser and calmer, she was relaxed in his presence. It probably wasn’t the best idea but it was as if they were young again, without the millennia of pain and fire separating the strands of time.

He smirked at that, looking like he wanted to laugh. She walked towards his head with a contemplative expression, before voicing her thoughts.

‘There’s a quick way, and it’s not like I don’t have any left. Who knows how many I actually have.’

He grimaced, ‘about that…’

‘What?’

‘You have an infinite amount.’

‘I’m going to ignore the fact that you shouldn’t know that, and jump straight to what the hell?’

‘That's not for today's conversation, because I also happen to have none.’

‘You have, but… If you die, you’ll be dead?’

‘That is how death works, love.’

She rolled her eyes, ‘I mean, permanently, no resurrection or trick or stupidly thought out yet genius plan to surprise me again?’

‘No, dead as in gone forever.’

‘But you can’t,’ she said thickly, almost crying for the first time, she realised, with this particular face.

He looked shocked that she was actually voicing some feeling for once.

‘Koschei,’ she said, looking in his eyes, voice carrying the musical lilt of Galifreyan, ‘you can’t die, not now.’ Not ever.

He smiled at the language, one that they hadn’t spoken for a long time. It was a genuine smile, not seen for as equally as long of a time.

‘You said you had an idea, Theta,’ he said softly, comforting with a press of his consciousness against hers.

‘I,’ she sniffed, ‘ when River… you know who she is right?’

He nodded, ‘one of three humans I can tolerate, yes.’

‘Because River had… weird genes… when she broke her wrist, I used regeneration energy to heal it. I wasn’t able to regenerate for a few hours after, or heal as fast, but it worked.’

‘Awfully sentimental of you.’

‘She was important, and had pretended to be fine for my benefit.’ she paused, before looking up at him. ‘How come you don’t mind that I married her?’

‘While I may hate your pets because they don’t deserve your attention, she was different. She was important to you, and not a pet of yours. I could actually get on with her, and have an intelligent conversation.’

She smiled, happy that two people that shaped her life could have gotten along.

‘Now love, enough of the emotion, we should get to your plan.’

‘I can use my, apparently limitless, regeneration energy to heal you. It might have to be a full one, to properly work, but I don’t think you’ll change,’ she sounded happier, a slight touch of sarcasm evident in her voice.

‘Won’t that mean you can’t regenerate for a while? Or that you’ll regenerate with me?’

‘Possibly. But, again with River, when she revived me, she didn’t change.’

‘What?’

‘She may have killed me after regenerating before giving up all of hers to bring me back to life.’

‘Ignoring the fact that she of all people managed to actually kill you for the first time in all of history…’

‘It’s probably why Daleks seem terrified of her,’ she cut in.

‘... yes, but you need a mental and physical connection.’

‘Yep, full open contact between consciousnesses, and a close physical contact, with as many inner surfaces close.’

‘You and River, properly married?’

‘Yeah, Bonded and everything. It was partly in a separate timeline that no longer exists and also never existed.’

‘Okay, but, love, mouth to mouth?’

‘I wasn’t entirely joking when I mentioned a welcome kiss earlier.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

They stayed close together, and she stood by his form laying on the table, hands clasped in each others. They reached out their minds, before he sat up, wincing. Both closed their eyes, physical sight wasn’t needed.

They leaned together, hand-to-hand, forehead-to-forehead, hearts-to-hearts.

‘Contact.’

Contact.

They both whispered it quietly, and spoke loudly in their minds. Volume didn’t matter as much as intent did. Intent to re-bond completely after a lifetime of mental separation. It took both eons, and no time at all.

It was an explosion of thought and feeling. A sensation unlike any other, yet reminiscent of coming home. A sense of welcoming in a place long forgotten yet forever remembered. A contradiction and cycle, of my thought is yours, your thought is mine. Memories were absorbed, and information shared.

She tugged on the always-there well of energy, as if waking it up. It swirled within her, before spreading out to her limbs, gathering at her fingertips.

His hands glowed the same pale gold, as the tangible glow drew up his arms. They pushed closer still, tilting their necks to have better access.

Her lips pressed to his. His lips pressed to hers.

The energy pushed through completely, moving around them both. A swirl of pale gold and a feeling of life hanging in the air.

The glow collected around his injury, the bruised fading, sickly green hue leached away. Small scars knitted seamlessly, and any more bruises disappeared. His ribs shifted slightly, returning to their original position.

After a few seconds, minutes, hours, she stepped back. Not just one, but continually walking back to the door.

‘It’s not the time to ask,’ she smiled with an air of bittersweetness. ‘We’ll find each other when we’re ready.’

#Thoschei #13th Doctor #Thirteenth Doctor #Thirteen/Dhawan!Master #theta #koschei #a bit of a mess #hurt/comfort #ish

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marvel--3000 · 3 years

Text

Mirage (5/???)

Summary: When 2 weird men show up at your job asking questions about you, you run, right into Hydras arms, you have no idea what they did to you in there, the Avengers help you figure it out.

*AU right after civil war, Steve, Bucky, and Tony are friends, and Pietro is still alive.*

A/N: this is my first thing I’ve ever written, soooo, some feedback would be appreciated, Hi I’ve been gone a couple years, and now I’m back, sorry….

I started writing this a long time ago, so the first chapters suck…. sorry

Pairing: Avengers x mutant!Reader

Warnings: some language, torture

Italics indicate that she is thinking to herself

~~~~~~~~~~

You dream of your life in the hydra base, everything is tinted red. You see flashes of faces, good and bad. You see yourself training with another mutant, you knock him to the ground and put him in a headlock. The scene changes, you see yourself strapped to a table, with the Trench Coat British guy smiling over you as you scream. It changes again, you see yourself crying in a ball, in the corner of your cell, trying to keep warm. It changes again, you see the goons kicking you on the floor, after your first escape attempt.

All of these memories scream through your head, until suddenly they come to a stop on one image. The man with the metal arm being shot in the back, because you can't reach him in time. You run to him as he falls. You catch him before he hits the ground, and lower him the rest of the way to the ground. You roll him over to look at his face, but when you roll him over, instead of his face being there, its Mr. British. You scream and try to push him off you, but he grabs you and pulls out a gun, he shoots you in the chest and laughs. You fall backwards, but instead of hitting the floor, you fall through it, into complete darkness. It feels like you fall forever.

You wake up screaming, clutching at the blankets. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out where you are. You see medical equipment, and hear a heart rate monitor beeping next to you. You remember, you're in the Avengers Compound, they saved you from Hydra. You relax into the bed and breath.

What time is it? You think, you look around again, now that you've calmed down. You see a huge window at the end of the room. Outside the window are trees, and a black sky, full of stars. So it's still night, how long was I asleep for? You sit up so you can see out the window better. You see a lake, and some lights below you. So I’m not on the ground floor, it's pretty here, quiet. You look away from the window and down at yourself, and notice that you aren't Natasha anymore, instead you’re a man, with hairy arms.

You gingerly try to spin your legs to the left, to dangle off the bed. It takes some effort, and a lot of pain, but you manage to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to slip off, so your feet touch the floor, then put a little pressure on them. Causing you to whimper in pain, but you push through it, as you've always done. You finally manage to stand on your own two legs, you look down to notice that your legs are hairy too, under the hospital gown. You also notice that there is a IV coming out of your hand, with a tube leading to a saline drip hooked on a metal rod on wheels.

You hold onto the rod for support, and take a step towards the window. But the heart rate monitor hooked to your finder stops you, you quickly pull it off, causing the monitor to have one long beeeeep, then power off. That will probably bite me in the ass later, but I need to see out the window. You slowly make your way to the window, each step a struggle. But you make it to the window, when you look out, you notice the trucks driving below you.

You look up and see the stars, they are beautiful tonight. Your eyes feel odd, so you close them, and rub them with the back of your hand, and when you open them again to look at the stars, suddenly you can see so many many more, you can see the sky as if we didn't have any pollution, or even an atmosphere. You can see the milky way, the whole galaxy. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Your eyes well up with tears, causing the stars to merge together, and yet, it's no less beautiful. You’re so busy looking up, you don't even notice that somebody else has entered the room.

“It's beautiful here isn't it?” Says a voice behind you. You squeak and whirl around, causing you to almost fall, and be in excruciating pain. The person rushes towards you trying to help, you look with anger in your eyes, ready to fight. But what you find is a concerned Dr. Banner, giving you the most confusing face. Your eyes soften, seeing that there is no immediate threat. You gain your balance, and stand on your own, shrugging off his hands, which you hadn't noticed before.

“It's not nice to scare people when they are zoned out.” You say in a fake scolding voice. But he just keeps looking at you with a weird face. “What's wrong Dr. Banner?”

“Hm? Oh, I'm just not used to walking into a room to find that I'm already in it.” He says with a little smile.

“What?” Is he a little crazy?

“Oh you don't know, you're not Nat anymore, now you're me. It's a little jarring. You can call me Bruce by the way.” He says looking you up and down.

“Oh! Sorry, when I dream I shift, and I must have shifted into you. Sorry.” you say then look at the floor in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry about, but how do you look exactly like me, you even have my birthmark on your knee.” he says with a puzzled look.

“Oh, when I see someone, I can copy their face, their size, and any other characteristic I can see. But in your case, when I touch someone, or they touch me, I can become a perfect duplicate of them, I think it has to do with DNA or something.”

“Oh. But I didn't touch you?” he said with a puzzled expression.

“When you put the needle in my arm you did. I can shift into someone else if you want?” you say shyly, talking about your powers is always weird.

“It's fine, as long as you're comfortable.” he quickly reassures you.

“Cool.” you think for a moment before asking, “What are you doing in here so late?”

“Oh that, um, I told Friday to alert me if you woke up, so you wouldn't be scared. On that note, you really should lay back down.” he says in a quiet tone.

“You did that for me?” Confused as to why he would want to do this for a stranger. You start making your way back to your bed, leaning on the pole.

“Well yeah, you are my patient.” he says walking next to you. Suddenly your left leg decides it's time for a nap, and you start falling with a yelp. Bruce catches you with surprising strength. How did he catch me so quick? He helps you back to your bed, and you lay back down.

“Thank you, I don't know what happened, my leg just quit working.”

“No harm done. Are you alright, any pain?” he asks sitting at the end of your bed.

“I mean the bullet wound in my chest hurts, but the weird part is, it should hurt more. How long has it been since I got shot?” you ask, looking him in the eyes. His eyes are a very nice deep brown, with some bright green near the iris. Odd.

“It's been 3 days, but your wounds are healing at an accelerated rate, it looks like you got shot 3 weeks ago. Is that part of your powers?” he asks leaning towards you

“No last time I checked!” you say starting to worry about what Hydra did to you there.

“Ok, we’ll figure out why, but right now, you should sleep. Steve and Tony are going to ask you questions in the morning,” he looks down at his watch, then back up to you, “if you sleep now, you should get about another 6 hours before they come back.” he says in a reassuring tone. I can see why he's a doctor, he's so kind.

“I don't know if I can go back to sleep, I didn't have the best dreams before.” you say looking down at your hands, they are large, and strong.

“I can give you something to help you sleep better if you like, but only if you're comfortable, I don't want you to have another panic attack.” he says looking at you with concern.

“Will it give me better dreams?” you ask in a small voice, meeting his gaze again.

“Yes, promise, as long as you promise me that you won't have another panic attack?” he asks while standing and walking to a nearby cabinet, and opening it up.

“I think I can manage that.” you say smiling at him. He turns back to you with a small needle, and a band aid in his hand. He walks towards you and says, “You should lean back, this stuff works quick.” he cleans the area he's about to put the needle in as you lean back. “I will be here in the morning when they ask their questions.”

“Thank you, and thank you for being so nice to me, even though you don't know me.” you say smiling. When he finishes he puts a teenage mutant ninja turtle band aid on your arm. “Really? Teenage mutant ninja turtles?” you ask with a small laugh.

“What? I thought it was appropriate.” he says with a large smile. “Now try and get some sleep, I will see you in the morning.” he says while walking to the door “Goodnight Bruce, thank you…” you say, your words starting to blend together. He was right about this acting quick…

“Goodnight.” Bruce says while turning out the lights, he turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him. He walks back to the elevator, taking it to the recreation floor, where the crew quarters are. He walks to his room, and sits on his bed.

“Friday, please alert me when our patient wakes up.” he says then crawls in bed to sleep as well.

“Yes sir.” Friday whispers from the ceiling.

Back in your room

You smile to yourself, Maybe this place isn't so bad, Bruce is nice, I hope they don't think I'm hydra, I hope I'm not hydra…… *Snore*

Time Skip,

You wake up slowly, groggy from the drug Bruce gave you last night. Your eyes are too tired to open n, but your mind starts to work. You feel something, something is wrong. Your eyes pop open and land on a very angry, very tall, very scary, redhead standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed, glaring at you.. Oh shit. Natasha Romanoff!

#marvel #avenger #mcu #tony #steve #bruce #mutant #mutant!reader #i hate tags #avengers x reader

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fire-the-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Follow the Beacon Qrow—A Place in This World

[Link to Masterpost] [Two chapters this week! Make sure you read the other one first!]

Finally, it was over.

All the pain faded after Raven stabbed him. And now he… he wasn’t sure, exactly. It just felt like floating. Far away, the doctor and Ozpin were doing something to his body, but he couldn’t tell what. Not like it mattered. He was dead.

Should he try to find Bones? …No. Bones wouldn’t want an apology. Probably better to avoid him, if possible.

The doctor left with a needle in hand. As he watched, Ozpin moved from the chair to sit on the bed next to his body. Carefully, gently, he pulled it into a sitting position and leaned its head on his shoulder. Rubbed its back and murmured quietly, a constant stream of words Qrow couldn’t quite hear. He kind of wished someone had held him like that while he was still alive, but this was nice too. They wouldn’t be fussing over his body if they weren’t going to bury it, right?

…Maybe he had a mom here that would want him. Could he find her if he did, without knowing a name or face? And he'd betrayed the tribe. …No, she’d hate him too, if she even ever wanted him at all.

The only other dead people he knew were the ones he’d killed. He was definitely too much of a coward to look for any of them.

Ozpin rocked, and the universe almost seemed to sway with him. The murmured words grew louder, almost understandable.

…He did know of someone else. If he found Summer’s dad, Qrow could at least tell him how great she was.

"Qrow"

He paused to listen. Every few seconds, his name managed to stand out from Ozpin’s mumbling. More words started to resolve themselves, heavy and cold. "Safe… Qrow… back… safe now…" Weighing him down. He was so tired…

"…all right, Qrow… safe now… move… all right, Qrow. You’re safe now. Nobody’s going to hurt you. You’ll be able to move soon, just rest. You’re safe, Qrow, it’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right."

He could feel Ozpin’s hands on his back, hear the words clearly. His body breathed and he felt part of it again.

"You’re safe, and you’ll be able to move soon. It’s all right."

Ozpin was right, he couldn’t move. What was happening? What was Ozpin doing to him? He was supposed to be dead—

"You’re safe, you’re safe…"

After an eternity, Qrow’s fingers twitched.

"There you are, there you are… Just a few more minutes, everything will be fine."

He could blink, and then he could breathe, and finally he could turn his head, shakily move his limbs. Where was the wound? He couldn't see any blood, feel bandages, but from the pain Raven’s knife must have cut even deeper than Sanguin’s. At least she had gotten away—her body wasn't on any of the other beds.

"It’s all right, it’s all right," Ozpin soothed, taking Qrow’s good hand. "You’re safe. Can you speak?"

All he managed was a small noise in the back of his throat. He was so tired…

"Can you tell me how you’re feeling?"

It took every ounce of energy he had to answer, "Cold."

"Let’s get you under the blankets, then." He leaned forward, gently lowering him away—

A whimper escaped his throat before he could stop it. Ozpin paused, and pulled him back into his arms. Awkwardly, still holding Qrow secure, he wrenched the covers free and pulled the blanket over his back. "Is that better?"

He managed a nod, relieved the professor wasn’t angered by his weakness.

"I’m very glad." Ozpin rubbed his back again, through the blanket. "Qrow, can you tell me why you hurt yourself?"

He hadn’t really… meant to die. At first. He wanted the brand gone, wanted any small part of his guilt gone—but then it was so easy to just… not call for help. Curl up in the tub where he wouldn't leave a mess. Go back to sleep, and… "I don’t want to hurt anyone else."

"Isn’t that why you came to Beacon? You don’t have to anymore."

"It’s—it’s—" It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. He was weak. He was a murderer. He didn’t want to be a bandit and he didn’t deserve to be a Huntsman. "Y-you don’t understand. My, my Semblance, I—I can’t stop it."

Ozpin’s hand stilled on his back. "Your Semblance?"

The effort of keeping the tears back made him shake. "I—I make bad things happen. I-I attacked Azraq, I hurt Tai’s ankle. I broke Raven’s arm. I ki—I k-kill— k-killed o-our dad—" His throat closed over, he couldn’t speak or even breathe. Ozpin’s arms tightened, and he managed a few strangled gasps. "I can’t—stop—I, I can’t…"

He could leave the tribe, stop raiding and stealing—but no matter what he did, he would never be able to stop hurting people.

"...I can’t be a good person."

"Qrow—"

"Please." His eyes squeezed shut. "This is b-better for everyone. P-please, just… just leave the room a-and, and let me go."

Ozpin started to rub his back again. "No. No, we don't do that here."

"Please—"

"We are going to help you."

"I'm not—I can't—"

"Semblances respond to our emotions, Qrow, and I think you've been very hurt for a very long time. There have been others before you who did immense good for all of Remnant, despite… similar setbacks. It's unlikely you'll ever master it completely but as you start to heal it will improve. "

He whined, tears leaking out despite himself. Ozpin believed him.

"It's all right," he soothed, the motion of his palm on Qrow's back uninterrupted. "Just let it out, you'll feel better."

Qrow turned his face into the professor's shoulder and sobbed, shuddering with each gasp for air. Ozpin didn't scream or hit him, even when seconds turned into minutes or he wailed out loud.

"I need you, Qrow," the professor murmured as he tried to catch his breath. "Your teammates' parents and I are part of an organization dedicated to protecting Remnant. If doing good is your goal, you have unique gifts that could help our fight. I believe your Semblance is one of them. …The world needs you, Qrow, please don't leave it yet."

Ozpin wanted him.

Slowly, he dared to wrap his arms around the professor's back. After endless minutes his breathing finally settled and the tears stopped. Ozpin continued to hold him, regardless.

"What...what do you need me to do?" Qrow rasped.

Ozpin wiped the last of the water from his face with a half-curled hand. "For now, stay in school. Learn and heal. I've set an appointment with Beacon's health services for you tomorrow afternoon. We're going to help you."

He nodded, closing his eyes.

"Do you promise not to hurt yourself?"

He nodded again.

"...I need to hear you say it."

"I promise."

Next Chapter: Raven—Killed us Both

[Ozpin—no—stop—

Anyway. This is what I think happened that led to Volume 6 I don't think Ozpin was trying to manipulate him, he just didn't realize this kid would sell his soul for a hug and a kind word.

Ozpin is immortal, ancient. Impossibly wise and kind. Qrow didn't see Ozpin as a leader, general, or strategist—Ozpin was his god.

You can see it in the Battle of Haven, the way he protected Oscar. They way he spoke to them when the battle was over. He had kept faith, and his god delivered them. And, at the time, I thought "…uh-oh."

Then the kids asked what the Relic of Knowledge could do, and Qrow looked at Ozpin as expectantly as any of them, and I got even more nervous.

And then Jinn showed up and all hell broke loose

Up until The Incident Qrow was always shown as trying to Do Good and Be Good—punching Oscar was wrong (obviously) but I always thought the scene worked well because it illustrated how badly Qrow was shaken by Ozpin not trusting him the way he thought.

It also sets upreally really good parallels between Salem&Ozpin and Tyrian&Qrow. Currently Salem and Ozpin have both set themselves up as gods—and they are both terrible gods—but Ozpin is a good man, so when he stops playing god things will improve. Then you look at the two followers, Tyrian is not following Salem blindly the way Qrow's been worshipping Oz, and every time they fight Tyrian wins. —they're all really good foils ok? I love these four

Basically, the whole fic was inspired by Vol6, don't @ me. Anyway. Ozpin and Qrow are fantastic characters and I hope they find happiness at the end of all this]

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #qrow branwen #ozpin #strq #team strq #bones branwen #follow the beacon

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amethysttail · 3 years

Text

Running on Empty

Fandom: FFXV/Kingsglaive. Rating: G? Its fluff.

Summary: Luche Lazarus works himself too far trying to prevent further losses on the battlefield. Tredd Furia sees the crash coming. Now, a nice person would calmly voice their concerns. A Furia would drag them kicking and screaming back home. Is Tredd a nice person? In his eyes he is, until Luche fights it. They are both going to give their captain a headache at this rate.

Luche keeps tapping away at his keyboard despite the fact it was quitting time. Shadows hung under his eyes, blooming under sickly pale skin. Tredd leaned against the doorframe of the tiny office, watching in concern. Luche took to being a workaholic to deal with the stress of losing a battle, everyone was getting worried while he threw himself at his work. The redhead lightly knocked on the polished wood, looking expectantly.

“Yes?” Luche groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Wanna hit Yama’s for some food? Heard they were toying with new recipes.” Tredd watched the slow roll and shudder of Luche’s shoulders as he stretched, and shook his head.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don't sound fine to me. Don't look too good either. Lets get some food, and watch a movie at my place, hm?”

“Sounds great- but go on without me” Luche sighed, rubbing at his temples, slouching in his seat. Frowning, Tredd stepped forward, putting his hands on his hips.

"Dude, you are not ok. You're working yourself way too hard. I get it, you are working for us. But you need a full meal and nights sleep."

Luche slumped a squidge in his seat, as if acknowledging his condition was shameful.

"Your work will still be here in the morning. Burning yourself out won't solve anything."

"I'll get some rest tomorrow. Tonight I can get by with coffee…"

"If I have to drag you out of this six-damned office I will. Luche- don't think I won't."

The readhead barged over, grabbing Luche by the wrist and hefting him to his feet. The vice captain was tired enough that his mind and reflexes didn't catch up until Tredd almost had him out the door. Luche snarled, bracing against the door frame.

"Enough! I don't have time for this!"

"You don't have time for me?"

"No! The war-" Luche wheezed as Tredd tackled him to the floor of the cramped office, struggling to pin his growling brother in arms.

"Fuck the war. I'm taking you home, getting some food in you, and making sure you get some sleep!"

Luche struggled- Tredd was broader and stronger and the miniscule floorspace gave him no wiggle room. Tredd grinned, bearing his full weight down on the growling glaive, squishing him into the corner between the desk and wall. Luche viciously bucked, throwing Tredd enough for him to twist and regain his position, kneeling, bracing against the desk and forcing Tredd back in a wild grapple.

Tredd locked with Luche, grinning maniacally. This was Tredd's forte- brute strength. Luche's muscles trembled under him, barely holding his idiot back. Tredd mustered and shoved forward, the other glaive shuddered but held, shaking violently with effort. Tredd shoved again, forcing Luche down against the desk, then on his back on the ground.

"Get off, asshole!"

"Too tired to make me, Lazarus?"

Luche squirmed, but no longer had the energy to buck him off. Tredd sat on his legs, pinning his hands above his on either side of his head.

"Get your insubordinate dickish self off of me-" came a muffled growl.

"Take a night off." Tredd snickered, leaning further on the kicking legs under himself.

"I said get off!" Luche roared, struggling in vain to muster strength that just wasn't there.

The blonde managed to turn and bite the readhead on the wrist. Tredd glanced down, still holding tight, to see teeth marks- rapidly turning red- clearly visible.

"The fucker bit me." Tredd sounded awed. Luche bit Tredd. He must be in far worse shape than they thought- calm, in control, cool Luche lay smirking and bedraggled after fighting and biting his best friend. Six.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You are going home one way or another. Gonna keep fighting?" This got a quiet curse in response.

"Hard it is." Came the muttered reply.

Tredd adjusted his sleeves, pinning the others two hands in one of his, over his head, looking down at his prey. Luche lay exhausted but still defiant. His hair flopped down in his eyes, uniform a mess, shirt untucked under his coat. Tredd chuckled at the sight.

"Remember, all you need to do is take the night off …"

Luche growled in response, writhing in his grasp.

Tredd leaned in, tugged his shirt up further, and dug his fingers into the skin above Luche's hip. “Tredd! Get off or I swear to Ramuh!” Luche squawked, bucking weakly.

Tredd tickled along the cut of his hips and lower belly, earning increasingly desperate threats. Tredd grinned, clawing into the muscle above the joint, deeply amused at the shaky curses. Based on the flush along Luche's face and how bad his stomach quivered in his grasp, the beleaguered glaive just needed a little push.

“I’ll go home as soon as I’m done!” Luche squirmed, desperately struggling to reign himself in.

“You are done for the day.” Tredd smirked, kneading.

“Just a little more! I swear!” Came a pleading squeak.

"You asked for it." Tredd snickered, leaning in.

"No! Get the fuck off! Nonononoo!" Luche squealed, then broke into wild cackling at Tredd nibbling at the exposed skin of his hip. The blond managed to break his arms free, but his strength to do anything else withered under the crippling mirth. Tredd laughed into the quivering skin, holding tight onto the poor glaive frantically squirming in his arms.

The vice captain bucked weakly, shaking his head amid aching guffaws. His lungs and muscles burned, adrenaline spent. Tredd chuckled, kneading into his quaking waist. Luche looked to be near admitting defeat, face bright red and hair askew.

"Gonna get some rest?" Tredd glanced up, smiling at the giggling glaive.

Luche panted and told Tredd to go fuck himself in Gahladian.

"Alrighty then..."

Luche screeched as Tredd blew raspberry after raspberry onto his belly, clawing into the meat above his hips. The blonde was held tight as he thrashed and laughed helplessly. He couldn't stand it, couldn’t escape, his mind stuck in a spiraling loop of six, it tickles and I'm stuck. Tredd smirked, continuing mercilessly, not noticing the form of the captain in the doorway, taking a stealth pic of his poor second being tickled to death.

"May I ask why you are tormenting Lazarus?" Drautos inquired over his second’s breathless shrieks of laughter, leaning casually on the door frame. Tredd froze, wide eyed. Then shook himself and smiled up at his captain.

"Lazarus is burning himself out, sir. I am merely encouraging him to rest up."

Drautos raised an eyebrow, observing the poor condition of his second. The blonde had been taking on more paperwork and training, desperate to prevent losses on the battlefield. This war had taken a terrible toll on his glaives, and some bore the stress better than others. While training and hard work was well and good, rest was also key. Drautos nodded, and turned back to the hallway.

"Can't fight or think on an empty tank. Go home, the lot of you. That's an order."

Two yes sirs sounded behind him, one smug, and the other uncertain.

Tredd ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. After forcing takeout down the blond’s gullet and settling in for a night of games, he had turned around to find him passed out cold on his couch. He really had no idea how Luche held it together for so long. Tredd himself dealt with stress by beating a weighted bag until his knuckles bled. Sometimes with fire dancing viciously between the bones protruding under taut skin. He went until his strength was spent and someone- usually Luche- would catch him. The others did the same, roughly. The “hero” and his squad drank their troubles away, leaning on each other through the hard nights. Axis sank into his family, letting their love wash his wounds clean. Sonitus sang and danced with the remnants of his clan, their songs steady, leading its participants into a cleansing, healing trance. It was easy to let eachother hold the stress for a bit. It was what kept them all going- sticking together.

Tredd glanced down at a soft snort from Luche, watching the man snuggle deeper into his couch. Draping a blanket over him, the redhead turned to get ready for bed. Maybe Drautos would take it easy on them in training tomorrow.

#KINGSGLAIVE #luche lazarus #tredd furia #titus drautos #ffxv #fluff #My fic #tredd is the only one who knows luche's tickle spot #Tredd and Luche are bros #Drautos is so done

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missperfectlyfine13 · 4 years

Text

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole (1/?)

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while now and I’m still not sure how I feel about it (I kind of feel like it’s crap lol). Let me know if I should continue!

Summary: Outside of Barden, Chloe’s life is harder than she would like to admit. When she’s at school she gets to forget all about problems, she gets to be normal. She doesn’t like to let people know about her life outside Barden, with the exception of her best friend Aubrey. Then she meets Beca Mitchell, and somehow she becomes the second exception. Will Beca be the answer Chloe has been looking for?

Read Below or on AO3/FF

“Our Sorrows and Wounds Are Healed Only When We Touch Them With Compassion” – Buddha

May 2012, End of Chloe’s Junior Year

Chloe watches sadly as Aubrey packs up her bags, her side of their shared room in the Bella house looking dreadfully empty. Their last day of classes was yesterday and all the girls in the house are working hard to pack.

Aubrey and Chloe are going to be the only Bellas left next year, so Aubrey is moving all of her stuff from their shared room to the room across the hall. Leaving Chloe feeling even more empty than she already is.

“You sure you don’t want to come home with me this summer?” Aubrey offers one more time, her eyes soft and sympathetic, because she knows, she’s the only one who knows.

Chloe shakes her head, “No I’ll be fine here. It’ll give me a chance to clean this house up before next year anyways. The other girls aren’t exactly cleaning up their mess.”

“Ok, but if you change your mind…the offer stands,” Aubrey zips up her last bag of clothes, standing up to survey the damage.

Going home with Aubrey for the summer actually sounds amazing, but Chloe feels bad. She feels like she would be imposing. Aubrey’s home isn’t the happiest most days with her dad gone 90% of the time, so she doesn’t want to cut into the little family time they’ll have.

Chloe stopped going home over summer after her freshmen year. Her mom has only gotten worse in the last 6 years, making her near to impossible to be around. Not to mention the endless stream of men in and out of their house. Her brother Jake isn’t an option either, with him being on the road for his job most days. Which leaves her with her only other option, staying on campus all summer.

“I appreciate it,” Chloe thanks her best friend quietly, knowing she won’t take her up on her offer.

“Have you talked to her lately?” she immediately knows who Aubrey is talking about.

Chloe shakes her head, “No. I know nothing has changed…she knows I won’t come home unless she gets her shit together.”

“I’m sorry it has to be that way,” Aubrey reaches a hand out and places it on her shoulder.

“Yea me too.”

************

September 2005

Chloe watches grimly as her mom polishes off her second beer of the morning. There’s an empty case next to her recliner in the living room, providing an awful memory of the night before. She had been angry, angrier than Chloe ever remembers her being. Chloe locked herself in her room and hadn’t come out until this morning.

“Mom,” she tries to keep her voice steady and strong, but it still quivers betrayingly, “the funeral is in an hour…are you going to be ready?”

“I’ll be ready,” she replies flatly, tossing her empty bottle into the recycle bin.

“Grandma and grandpa are coming to pick me up,” Chloe clarifies.

It sounds awful, but she doesn’t trust her mom not to be drunk. She doesn’t want to ride in a car with her. Chloe would drive the both of them, but she only has her temporary license. She’s not 16 until next year.

“They could take you too,” she offers quietly.

Her mom shakes her head, “I’ll be fine to drive myself…I could drive you too.”

“Um that’s ok,” she shifts anxiously between her two feet, “just be careful.”

Her mom gives her a dark stare, before cracking open another beer. She always liked a drink, but it was something that never got in the way of her life. It never got in the way until her dad died. The day the call came that he had been in a car accident and most likely wasn’t going to make it, her mom just lost it. She hasn’t been the same since. Well, neither has Chloe.

Chloe and her dad were so close. She always got along better with him than her mom. A part of her died that day and she’ll never get it back. The only other person in the world who gets her like her dad, is her older brother Jake. Jake is in college across the country, so Chloe rarely sees him. He flew into town yesterday, but after assessing the situation, he refused to stay at the house, checking himself into a hotel instead. Chloe almost hates him a little for it, for leaving her here with their mom. Regardless of her feelings about him chickening out, she’s aching to see him. Chloe just needs a hug; she needs to talk to him. She needs someone else around her, someone other than her drunk mother.

Chloe’s still worried about her mom driving, so she throws a last-ditch effort at her, “I could see if Jake could come pick you up?”

Her mom scoffs loudly, “He didn’t even want to come home, what makes you think he’s going to pick me up.”

She’s clearly not winning this one, “Ok, well I’m going to go put my dress on before grandpa gets here.”

************

The funeral is just as painful as Chloe had assumed it would be. It makes it real, she’s really saying goodbye to her dad. She’s really left here with her mom.

Chloe’s not sure her mom will ever pull it back together and that scares her. She smelled like a 12 pack of miller light when she got to the church. As person after person walks up to her to give their condolences, Chloe cringes. She knows they can smell it too, it’s embarrassing.

“You going to be ok with her Chlo?” Jake walks up to her, the two standing side by side watching as their childhood pastor talks to their inebriated mother.

Chloe sighs deeply, “I’m going to have to be, someone needs to watch after her. I’m worried Jake.”

“I am too,” Jake runs a hand through his hair anxiously, “you know I’m only a phone call away though.”

“Like you can do anything to actually help though, you didn’t even stay at the house last night,” Chloe replies bitterly.

“I’m sorry about that,” he shuffles his feet nervously, “I couldn’t bear to watch the train wreck…I should have been there.”

“Dad would want someone to make sure she’s ok,” Chloe swallows back tears as she says it, “I have to stay with her.”

“He loved you so much Chloe, he’d want you to be safe and happy.”

Chloe knows that’s true, but in three years she’ll be in college. She has an out, she owes it to her dad to hang in there.

“I’ll be fine,” she forces a smile at her brother.

Jake pulls her into a tight hug, “Love you Chlo.”

“I love you too Jake,” she mumbles into his shoulder, willing her tears to not escape.

************

September 2012, Chloe’s Senior Year

“I can see your toner through those jeans!” Aubrey barks out into the mostly empty practice space.

Chloe cringes internally. She likes Beca…ok she also likes Beca. Something about the little alt girl drew her in right away. She’s not sure if it was the sass she dished back to them at the activities fair, or when she had an impromptu duet with her in the shower. Maybe it was her audition, where she blew everyone away with a simple song and a yellow cup. Chloe can’t put her finger on it, but she can’t seem to shake the brunette from her mind.

And Beca is talented. Aubrey has such a grudge against her she can’t even stop to see it. They desperately needed talent, especially after last years explosive ICCAs finals. The two of them had a hard enough time getting the girls they did, it’s a miracle they got someone as talented as Beca. Even if it took a little coercing from Chloe.

“That’s my dick,” Beca spits back, before turning on her heels to leave.

The response rips a quiet chuckle from the back of Chloe’s throat, but she manages to conceal it before Aubrey turns around. The blonde is red in the face, her hands shaking slightly.

“You don’t have to be so hard on her you know,” Chloe knows she’s playing with fire by saying something like that to her best friend right now.

She can practically see the flames roaring in her pupils as she turns to look at her, “Yes I do Chloe. She has an attitude and no respect for authority. Do you want any shot at finals this year?”

Of course she does, she’s not going to deny that, so she nods.

“That’s what I thought, so don’t question my methods,” Aubrey retorts quickly.

Ever since the year started, and Aubrey and Chloe took over the Bellas, there has been a certain bite to Aubrey that Chloe has never seen before. This isn’t the Aubrey Chloe knows, she’s starting to think she never knew her at all.

“I’ve got to get going Bree, I’ve got homework to do,” Chloe grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder.

Aubrey is staring intently at the white board in front of her, wiping away some of the marks she made on their master plan, “Ok, see you back at the house.”

Chloe rushes out of the building, hoping that maybe she can still catch up to Beca. She wants to apologize, wants to make sure the other girl is ok. Chloe doesn’t want Beca to quit over this incident, for some selfish and not so selfish reasons.

Luckily, Beca is leaning against a large tree right outside the building, large headphones covering her ears, her face looking down at her phone. Chloe stalks quickly over to her. As she gets closer, Beca’s head snaps up, immediately making eye contact with her.

“Hey Beca,” Chloe chirps, as the younger girl slides her headphones down around her neck.

“Hi,” Beca replies cautiously, like she’s not sure what Chloe is here for.

“I’m sorry about Aubrey, she’s been extra control freak lately, that wasn’t cool of her to accuse you like that,” Chloe is quick to get her apology out, Beca doesn’t look like she would want to beat around the bush.

“I appreciate the apology,” relief washes over Chloe, that is until Beca continues to talk, “but that’s a really dumb rule. I’m not even sure I’m into Jesse, but I should be able to be with him…if I was.”

Chloe sighs, “I know it’s dumb…and if you really do like Jesse, I wont say anything to Aubrey. I’m pretty sure Bumper and Fat Amy have something going anyways.”

Beca wrinkles her nose, her mouth turning downward, “Oh uh wow…didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me either,” Chloe laughs.

“Thank you, I don’t see anything happening with Jesse, but still, thank you,” Beca says sincerely, before starting to slide her headphones back up.

This must be Chloe’s cue to leave, “Ok, well I’ll see you around!”

Beca nods, “Yea, see ya.”

************

Chloe wakes up the next morning with an ache in her heart and a sour taste in her mouth. She rolls over groggily and sees the date on the calendar above her desk.

September 14th. The anniversary of her dad’s death.

The hardest day of the year for her. Much like years gone by, she just wants to get the day over with. Go to class, go to practice, come home and go to bed. Tomorrow will be a better day.

“Miss you dad,” Chloe mumbles, clutching the locket around her neck.

The locket was a gift from Jake, a year after the death. There’s a picture of her dad inside. She hasn’t taken it off since the day she got it.

Chloe eventually manages to pull herself from bed and start her day. She goes to class, she tries hard to pay attention. She goes to practice and sings and dances like she means it. Inside though, she feels like she’s barely there. Her body is present but her mind is miles away.

None of the other girls seem to pick up on her mood, except for Aubrey…and surprisingly…Beca. She catches a few sympathetic glares, but Beca’s are more worried, presumably because she has no clue what has Chloe under the weather.

So, she’s almost not surprised when practice is over and Beca hangs around until it’s just the two of them left. Just as she’s about to leave, Beca walks over to her.

“Hey Chloe,” Beca pulls the straps of her backpack tight against her, “are you ok?”

Chloe nods and gives her a small smile, “Yea, I’m fine.”

“It’s just…you don’t seem fine, you kind of seemed really distant today,” Beca shrugs.

Beca clearly isn’t going to let it go, normally Chloe would jump on the opportunity to share with the younger girl, but she’d rather not share. But something in Beca’s expression lets her know that she’s not going to drop it.

“Um well, I guess I’m just kind of depressed today,” Chloe answers her as vaguely as she can.

“Why?” Beca immediately fires the question back.

Beca has never seemed to care much about any of the other girls like this. It has her wondering why she’s pushing so hard. Maybe her little apology yesterday spoke to Beca louder than she thought.

Chloe sighs quietly before answering, “Today is the anniversary of my dad’s death.”

“Oh god, wow,” Beca casts her gaze to the floor, “Chloe I’m really sorry.”

“It’s ok, I’ll be better tomorrow,” Chloe tries to reassure her.

The two stand in awkward silence, while Beca shifts around uncomfortably. This is Chloe’s cue to leave.

Before she can even consider walking past her, Beca puts a hand out, “Um, I don’t know if this would make things worse…or if you’d just prefer to be alone, but would you want to grab dinner with me? Or we could just go back to my dorm for a while and just chill, we could order take out. My roommate is going to be gone tonight and I thought maybe it would take your mind off things?”

Normally Chloe would prefer to spend her day in her bed and not move until tomorrow. But even under the circumstances, she doesn’t want to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with Beca and maybe get to know her better. Something tells her that spending some time with the other girl really would make her feel better.

“Sure, that would be great,” Chloe grins and Beca looks shocked that she said yes.

“Ok, cool,” Beca leads the way out of the building and towards her dorm.

“Do you like Chinese?” Chloe asks as they walk through the crisp autumn air.

Beca nods excitedly, “I love it.”

“I know a great place we could order from.”

Being with Beca already has her calmer. She’s not sure if it’s because of how much she likes her, or if it’s just the girl’s presence in general. Something about her puts all of Chloe’s anxiety behind her, it helps her forget why she was even sad today. Which makes her almost feel guilty, but she knows this is what her dad would want for her.

One thing is solidified in her mind now. Beca Mitchell is special and Chloe would be a fool to let her slip away.

#bechloe fanfic #pp fanfic #bechloe #my stuff

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gingerwritess · 4 years

Note

Ok so first of all just read your latest installment of predating idiots and OMG IM IN LOVE, as always when I read your fics!😍 you were asking for ideas and my brain spit out a random piece of crap, feel free to hate it.... maybe Loki/Laing has another patient, that requires a LOT of magic to heal, and he uses so much effort in that his illusion starts to fade and reader sees his scars again and patches him up I guess? Angsty, soft, want to trust each other but afraid? Feel free to hate it😂

GASP i love it !!! thank you for sending this in! (combined with a request for “fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade” from @grufflepuff !)

part 15 FINALLY of predating idiots, featuring much idiocy, lots of cluelessness, and slow progression towards understanding

warning: includes mentions of Loki’s past abuse, descriptions of injuries, blood

— — — —

Robert Laing, as you are slowly finding out, has gathered quite the reputation among Stark employees.

Scattered whispers of saving a life, curing a disease, even reattaching limbs float among the break rooms and bathroom sinks, following you everywhere you try to escape.

Whether any of that is true or just a rumour started by the “doctor” himself, you don’t care.

Loki is…confusing. Not someone you should be worrying about when rebuilding your life is looking up, your professional life seems to be doing well, and someone even left a gift card for the bakery you frequent on your desk.

You’re guessing Marcus, one of your guards. The one who holds the doors for you—“not because you can’t,” he’d assured you, “just because I can.”

Your romantic life can’t possibly be on the rise, too, when everything else is going so well, right??

The rumours about you have started circulating, too.

Popular opinion decided that you and Dr. Laing never broke up in the first place, so you find yourself back in that fake little relationship—without having talked to the other member in nearly a month.

That does make it easier, though.

Acting is much simpler done solo.

Until, of course, someone comes up and asks you how skydiving over Paris was last weekend and you realise that oh yeah, this fake-relationship has to go two ways.

One of these days, one of you will screw this up.

You just weren’t ready for it to be today, and you always figured it’d be you who screws it up.

—

“I’ve made a mistake.”

You’ve heard that before—and in that case, you were the mistake he was referring to.

“I don’t care,” you reply, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

“Please.”

Figures that he chooses now to come taunt you.

“I’m sick of you, Loki, I’m not joking. Leave.”

All you hear in response is a heavy thud.

“Get out,” you repeat, slamming your hands on the desk as you stand. “I swear to god, I don’t want to hear—oh, my god.”

Fallen to his hands and knees, Loki’s covered in blood.

“What the hell—”

It’s not Loki, but it’s not Laing, either.

You slam the door shut and drop to your knees by his side. “What happened to you?”

“Messed up,” he grunts, eyes squeezed shut. “Can’t go to anyone else.”

Yeah, clearly; he’s half-and-half, right now, if anyone else saw him, there’s no denying who he is. Dark eyebrows furrow in pain over Loki’s blue-green eyes, but his hair is as short as Laing’s—though still as dark as Loki’s.

If he weren’t bleeding through his lab coat, you’d surely make fun of him for it…and desperately ignore how short, curly hair really suits him.

“How do you—uh, what do you want me to do?”

He winces, smashing a fist against the floor with a grunt of pain. “I need a cloth,” he says hoarsely. “Extra shirt, towel, something. Stop the blood.”

Nodding quickly, you hurry to the nearest bathroom and grab a handful of paper towels—they’ll have to do.

For a split-second you pause at the door. Déja vu sends your mind reeling—you’ve been in this situation before.

Loki has crawled to you before, bruised and bloodied, and here he is again.

“If you’re looking for gratitude, mortal, look elsewhere.”

You hear a grating cough from behind the door and steel yourself.

Compassion doesn’t come with gratitude.

You’ve already almost killed him twice now; the least you could do is not make it thrice.

“I need you to sit in a chair,” you say when you slip back through the door, shutting it behind you. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Setting the paper towels on the desk, you crouch beside his slumped form and sling his arm over your shoulders, heaving him as best you can into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

His weight falls limp onto your support—like a dead weight. Slumped and defeated.

The bleeding is coming from his back, no doubt from the cuts you saw all those days ago.

“Loki?”

Another grunt.

“I’m going to help you.” You crouch in front of him to meet his pained gaze. “But. You cannot threaten me, wipe my memory, kill me, or anything else to undermine my help after this.”

Slumped forward and gripping his knees to his chest, his eyes remain fixed on yours, silent.

“Is that clear?” Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, you raise an eyebrow at him. “I don’t trust you, I need to hear you say it.”

He grits his teeth, but croaks out a quiet “I understand” all the same.

“Great,” you smile dryly. “I’m gonna have to touch you, too, I hope that’s okay.”

All you get is a quick nod.

“Can you take your shirt off?”

Coat caked with blood, you take it from him and gingerly dump it in the trash before helping him carefully peel the soaked button-up from his torso.

“No questions,” he chokes, immediately going back to hugging his knees to his chest.

You can’t bring yourself to respond.

This is worse than you could’ve imagined.

“What happened?”

Ignoring his request completely, you quickly whet some of the paper towels and set to work wiping the blood off any unopened patches of skin, as few as there are.

His whole body jerks with each touch, every gentle press on a cut, and he ignores your question just the same.

“Loki,” you say again. “Just tell me what happened this time.”

Something awful, clearly, but surely not as bad as whatever made these scars in the first place. Blood trickles from each of the countless reopened wounds, and he just sits there, silently shaking as if the pain he must be feeling actually feels like nothing at all.

Your heart pounds, and you fear you can’t be soft enough for how badly he’s broken.

“Please, tell me something.”

“I made a mistake.” His voice cracks and wavers, like it might die altogether. “As usual.”

“Did you…blow your cover?”

“Nearly.”

“What happened?”

You know there’s a first aid kit in the bottom drawer of your desk, so you hurry to retrieve it when the blood flow slows, and Loki quietly answers.

“I tried to take another patient. Shrapnel lodged behind the ear, nothing I can’t handle. But people were watching, I–I had too many illusions, I couldn’t—”

“Loki,” you interrupt with a wince, the couple bandages from the kit in hand. “Get rid of all the illusions you’re using.”

“What?”

“I, uh, don’t know how your illusions work.” You tap the back of his head. “But your hair is still short, and that means you’ve still got one on. We should be treating you, just you. No illusions, then maybe you can actually heal.”

You hold your breath—he’ll either do it, or that’ll be the straw to break the camel’s back…

“No questions,” comes the quiet reply.

“No promises.”

He’s silent as the last bits of his energy wash over him.

“Loki.”

“I said no questions.”

Black and blue and purple and yellowed, he’s pale, bruised and lashed to pieces, slouched in front of your desk with his head on his knees, his spine protruding much too prominently from his skeletal frame.

Minutes from death, manifested in a human form.

“Oh, my god,” is all you can manage. You can’t wrap the bandages fast enough, shaking hands holding gauze to the cuts and wrapping the bandages tight around his chest and stomach. “Oh, my god.”

Securing the last bandage, you stumble away from him, still staring in horror at the barely alive form struggling to breathe.

“Don’t look,” he rasps.

You don’t want to, in all honesty, but you round his chair and crouch in front of him, cautiously laying a hand on his arm. He flinches as expected, but slowly lifts his head to look at you.

This isn’t a god.

“Oh, my god.”

“Stop,” he hisses, shoving your hand off his arm. “Stop pitying me, stop, stop it—”

“Shut up,” you order, still gaping at the state of his face, and surprisingly, he does.

Bloody, dotted wounds line his dry, cracked lips, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, lined with yellowed flesh that seems as if it’s been blistered from too much heat. You stare, shamelessly.

“Are you quite done—”

“No.”

Stuck in a horrified trance, you lift a hand towards his face and carefully, gently trace your fingertips along the wounds lining his mouth.

Those ones are peculiar. Small and precise, matched perfectly along the upper lip and under the lower.

Your mind jumps to the worst and you try not to entertain the possibility of needles, but Loki gives a grim laugh.

“Had to silence the silvertongue somehow.”

Your stomach churns just at the thought.

“Who did this to you?”

“That’s not of any importance.”

“This isn’t okay,” you say, a finger moving helplessly to trace down his nose, bruised and looking as though it’s been broken a couple times. “Oh, my god, Loki, you have to tell someone.”

He shakes his head, that same grim smile on his grotesque face. “People only listen to what they want to hear.”

“I–I think they’ll want to hear about this!” You gesture incredulously at, well, all of him. “Obviously someone was using you, tell Thor.”

“No. They wanted an origin story, so I gave them one.”

“But it’s a lie,” you plead, pulling yourself to unsteady feet.

“God of lies.” He points a bony finger at his chest.

Caught up in the shock of his horribly beaten state, you don’t catch the confession.

“Well, y-you need help,” you decide, voice shaky. Your hand ghosts along his shoulder, bringing a wince to the god when you reach his bruised neck. “Can I take you to a hospital?”

“Absolutely not.” Closing his eyes, he takes a couple deep, steadying breaths and the wounds start to fade, some stitching themselves shut. “Please, move your hand.”

You do, quickly pulling your hand back from his neck.

“At least tell me what’s going on.”

“I messed up,” he slowly replies, still focused with eyes closed. “Bit off more than I could stomach.”

“Learning your limits is good,” you offer quietly.

He gives a dry, breathy laugh, hands starting to shake as his skin returns to a normal, healthy colour. “I’m the only one keeping myself alive, at the moment,” he explains. “Between trying to heal, keeping up a facade, and now trying to treat your wounded kind, I’m losing strength.”

You hesitate, unsure as to why he would be admitting that to you.

“Losing the double was a relief.” He’s still talking, eyes shut and a trembling hand brushing over the the needlepoint wounds lining his mouth. “I couldn’t have kept it up much longer anyways.”

“Can’t you talk to Thor?”

“No, I—”

“Why not?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t go back to Asgard.”

“But Thor will understand,” you press again, meeting his gaze when he finally opens his eyes. “He’s your brother, all you have to do is explain what happened to you…don’t laugh.”

Loki just keeps laughing, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. Cold and humourless, but now falsely stronger.

“He’s not my brother.”

“What do you mean?” You laugh, too, just once and puzzled. “Of course he’s your brother, he talks about you all the time and calls you his brother—”

“I am not of the house of Odin,” Loki whispers, and a sick smile works it’s way onto his face. “If you knew what I am, you would have killed me when I asked you to.”

You steel yourself, gaze hardening against his own.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not doing this again.”

His eyebrow lifts—you glare back, no backing down this time.

“Doing…what, exactly?”

“Anything that has to do with you,” you snap.

It’s just more illusions, you know, but he gets so cocky and mean and cold when the facade is up. Always after you finish patching him up and send him back on his way.

The god smiles.

“I’m sick of you taking advantage of me,” you quickly blurt before he can say anything. “A–and I don’t get why you won’t just help yourself by talking to someone.”

“No one wants to hear my story,” he says simply. “Trust me.”

“You’re wrong.”

One of the bandages slips out of place, the end of it falling onto his thigh.

With a sigh, you trudge behind him again, grab the bandage, and start winding it around him, sure to make it more secure this time. “Kindness isn’t some myth,” you huff, tugging tighter than may be necessary. “Some people actually care about others and actually want to help other people on their journeys, but the universe hates you, hm?”

Loki doesn’t respond anything more than a grunt when you yank the bandage tight against one of the cuts.

“I get it though.” The bandage secure, your hands come to a stop just below his neck, staring at one of the scars streaking along his shoulder blade. “It’s a lot easier to feel sorry for yourself than to ask for help.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

You try not to roll your eyes. All that, and that’s how he interprets it.

“Well. If you ever get around to swallowing your pride, just know that there’s people willing to help you.”

Your gaze drops from the scar to his shoulder blade, half covered with a bandage but still adding a lovely dip to the planes of his battered back.

Without thinking, you touch him one more time.

“People like you?” He asks sharply, tensing under your touch.

Your fingers trail ever so softly, barely there to begin with, along the edge of his shoulder blade.

“Yeah.”

― ― ― ―

fuel the writer?

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Mischief, Meet Your Match - Chapter Two (Loki x reader)

WARNINGS: Violence, Swearing, Smut, Loki

SUMMARY:

Sam would say your liking for bad boys has gone too far.

Tony would kill the God of Mischief with his bare hands.

Steve would lock you in your room and never let you out.

Natasha would probably just throw you off the roof.

But there's just something about Loki that draws you to him, and you couldn't help it even if you wanted to.

Read Part One Here

The last time The Avengers had put Loki in a cage, it had been exactly where he had wanted to be. This time they were more careful. Loki was safely ensconced in a glass cube that had been enchanted by Dr Strange to contain the tricksters magic. The cube itself was in an empty, bland warehouse that was highly guarded and miles away from civilisation and the Avengers themselves.

It was dull for the first few days until what he guessed was around mid afternoon on the fourth day when the camera’s in every corner of the room that were pointed at his cell all simultaneously beeped and switched off. He looked around the room with curiosity but for at least ten minutes nothing happened.

“Hey Mischief.”

Loki stilled before he finally, slowly craned his neck to see you casually perched on the top of his cell, wiggling your wingers as you waved happily at him.

“Ever notice how they always put the attractive bad guys in glass prisons?” You asked, smirking down at the dark god who looked remarkably unimpressed by your presence.

“Have you come to gloat? To taunt me?” He asked coldly.

“Nope, I’m here to entertain you.” You said jovially, hopping down to the ground gracefully and holding up a book for him to see before you carefully slid it into the slot where his meal trays were delivered.

“Without the permission of your teammates I see.” He noted, looking pointedly at the camera’s and ignoring the novel.

“Better tell them you do whatever the hell you want than ask permission.” You shrugged as you settled on the floor in front of his cell, ignoring the way he towered sinisterly over you through the glass.

“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” He teased.

“It’s not your heart I’m interested in Mischief.” You rebutted, winking at him.

For a brief moment he looked kind of delighted by your quick response, even going so far as to shoot you a blinding smile.

You pulled a deck of cards from your pocket shuffled them.

“What are you doing?” He asked and you looked up to see him frowning down at you.

“Entertaining you… My options are limited what with you being in a cell and all.” You told him, dealing the cards and slotting his into the metal rim that ran along the edges of the cage, keeping the cube intact.

The backs of the cards were facing you so he could see what they were but you couldn’t.

“I could think of ways you could… entertain me.” He said in a low voice and you laughed.

“Well beggars can’t be choosers. Ace cards can be one or eleven, it’s up to you. Face cards are ten. The goal is to make 21 without going over, go over and you’re bust, you lose. Hit or stick… Want another card or are you happy with what you got?” You gave him the most basic explanation.

“I’m happy with what I have.” He said.

You shrugged and checked your own cards, managing to make 19 with your Queen of Spades and 9 of diamonds. You turned your cards over first before checking his. King of Spades and Ace of Hearts.

“Son of a… did you use your magic?” You demanded.

“My magic is contained by this cell.” He reminded you.

“Sure Jan.” You muttered under your breath.

You got a mischievous smirk on your face and reshuffled the cards.

“My magic is intact thankfully… wanna see?” You asked him.

“By all means… Impress me.” He smirked down at you like you were a silly child he couldn’t even be bothered placating.

“Pick a card, any card but don’t tell me which one you pick.” You ordered, splaying the deck for him to see.

He nodded once curtly to show he’d made his decision. You theatrically shuffled the cards one last time before tapping them and revealing the card with a flourish.

“Is this your card?” You asked smugly.

“No.”

Your grin faltered.

“Ok fine, Is this… your card?”

“No.” He sighed, looking less than impressed.

“Come on! Are you lying?” You asked him with a disappointed look.

“A fair assumption but again, no. I chose The King Of Hearts. You failed to produce my card twice, so you lose.” He taunted.

“It’s your stupid cell, it’s playing havoc with my magic.” You huffed in annoyance and shoved the cards back into your pockets.

“Then perhaps you should let me out? We could go somewhere with no interference and make some magic together.” He offered.

“I’m not easy Mischief.” You scoffed.

“My mistake, I can see how I should have known you were a lady of strong character and morals.” He sassed.

The corners of your lips twitched and you leant back on your elbows, sizing him up through the glass.

“Why did your friend call you Kitten?” He asked abruptly.

“I was this adorable stray that was brought back from a mission and never left. The Avengers adopted me.” You explained with a fond smile.

Loki cocked his head, obviously expecting more information so you sighed and gave it to him, remembering the life changing event that had led to you being an Avenger.

“The serum that made you into a god amongst men is in your blood. This serum we have developed will allow a test subjects body to absorb the characteristics of your blood… if they survive.” The Doctor explained, his clear excitement for the subject bubbling through.

It made Steve feel sick. He pulled at the restraints pinning him to the operating table but they were strong and he was weak from blood loss as his blood was currently being extracted. He shouldn’t have gotten pulled into this situation but he’d only been given half the information. What was supposed to be a simple rescue mission had blown up in their faces because of secrets he hadn’t been privy to.

“Bring in Patient Zero.” The Doctor ordered.

You were dragged in by two dark suited, burly agents, a third trailing behind you with his gun drawn. One of the agents had a split lip and the other had scratch marks on his cheek.

“Unhand me you fiends!” Yu demanded.

“The sedatives didn’t calm her down, they just made her loopier.” One of the agents snarled.

“It matters little, she will likely be dead soon but her corpse will provide us with information about how the serum works when combined with the Captains blood.” The scientist said giddily.

The second you’d been dragged in, Steve had redoubled his efforts to break free and at the mention of his name your attention was drawn to him.

“Pleasure to meet you Cap, shame about the circumstances.” You crowed loudly as you were manhandled onto a table like his.

“Let her go! You don’t have to kill innocents to do this!” Steve yelled.

“We won’t be using this formula on our people until it’s safer so she should be honoured. Her death will pave the path to a brave new world.” The scientist.

“Psst, Cap.” You stage whispered.

Steve turned to look at you.

“Do all bad guys really talk like B-Movie villains?” You asked.

“Enough.” The scientist hissed, slapping you across the face.

“Oh buddy, if I survive this I swear to god I’m going to use the super strength to punch you in the dick.” You vowed.

“Don’t worr, it is far more likely you will die, this is only a first attempt after all.” He sneered.

“Captain, if I die punch this guy in the dick for me.” You ordered, twisting your neck so you could look him in the eye.

There was a tick in his clenched jaw as he regarded you with a stormy gaze before he looked at the tubes that were rapidly pulling his blood from his body. He nodded once, decisively.

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed to your request.

What else could he say, he couldn’t promise you would survive or tell you that it was all going to be ok. All he could do was promise that you would be Avenged. You appreciated the assurance.

“You were made into the Captains image through experimental science?” Loki asked with a frown.

“Not his image exactly, but internally… kinda. The blood in my veins is the same blood that runs through Steve Rogers veins. He still gets ruffled if I call him dad though.” You sniggered.

Loki seemed to take the information in blankly, his face impassive but you could see the way his eyes were looking at you in a new light, reassessing you speculatively.

“Of course evil scientists don’t really know their stuff because they failed, epically. I would have died but Dr Banner managed to manipulate the enhanced healing aspect of the serum before I died. I can heal anything short of a life threatening injury pretty easily.” You explained.

“So when I hit you hard enough to discombobulate you…” Loki trailed off.

“You’d have to hit me a hell of a lot harder to keep me down.” You scoffed.

“Noted.” He said dryly.

“Aw Mischief, I thought we were getting along? After I brought you books and games and everything.” You pouted.

“If we were truly friends you wouldn’t be keeping me in a cage.” He pointed out.

You stood up and smirked at him, leaning into the glass.

“I like you Mischief, doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“Wise decision Kitten, I may like you more than most of your race but I will not hesitate to kill you when I escape.” He told you, his words venomous but his tone pleasant, friendly, almost respectful.

The camera’s beeped and you backed away from the cell.

“I suggest you kill me first Mischief, because if you don’t I will take you down again.” You vowed and with a short running start you leapt back onto the top of the cell with ease and disappeared through a panel in the ceiling, seconds before the camera’s came back on.

It was hours after you left when he finally grew bored enough to flip open the novel you’d brought. Something fluttered from the pages and he caught it deftly, flipping it over in his hand with an awestruck expression. There hidden in the pages of the book you’d given him before you played your failed card trick was The King Of Hearts. He dropped the book on the ground, discarding it as he turned the playing card in his hands.

“Well played Kitten.” He muttered to himself, his lips twitching in amusement.

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

A/N – Fun fact, In my story Asgard is still there, Odin’s alive (ugh) and Hela hasn’t been freed.Ragnarok, Infinty War and Endgame don’t apply to my Marvelverse!

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