#i think when sam's actually neck deep in that danger he's able to tone down some of his reactions
F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E
You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.
p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y
masterlist here
pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader
word count: 4.3k
warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x
I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x
That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.
Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.
But that didn’t stop Steve.
Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.
The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.
All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.
“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”
“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”
He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?
He couldn’t stomach it.
His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.
Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.
Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.
Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.
The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.
“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”
“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”
Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”
That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.
At least where you were concerned.
“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”
“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”
You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”
“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”
Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”
You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”
Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”
“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”
»»-------------¤-------------««
“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”
“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”
“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”
Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”
With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”
You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”
With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.
“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”
You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”
Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.
“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.
You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”
“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”
Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.
“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.
“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”
Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.
Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.
»»-------------¤-------------««
You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.
So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.
But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.
A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.
Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.
Dote over your best friend.
Oh, the irony was delicious.
Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.
The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.
Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.
Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”
“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”
Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.
“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”
You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.
You said nothing.
Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.
“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”
Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”
Bastard.
You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.
Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.
You had to go downstairs.
“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”
Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”
“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”
Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”
His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.
“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.
“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”
Feeding the enemy. Typical.
“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”
Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.
You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.
Your stomach dropped at the thought.
“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”
Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.
“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”
Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”
The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.
“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”
“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”
He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”
“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”
A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”
“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”
“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”
“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”
Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”
“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”
“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”
“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”
You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”
“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”
“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”
“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”
“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”
A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.
“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”
You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”
The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.
You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.
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Sam Winchester's Love
Summary: You are in a relationship with Sam Winchester. You don’t feel deserving of his love as your depression causes you to sink into a deep rut. Sam does some research about depression and responds to your lapse in happiness with a gentle approach that ends with him showing you just how much he loves you.
Word Count: 2906
Warnings: talk of depression and suicide/death, angst, and all the fluff with some smut added in there.
A/N: First- I’ve never written smut before. So be nice! Second, I struggle with depression and anxiety, and wanted to write a fic that expresses what would help me (or hopefully anyone struggling as well) feel appreciated when I’m low. I bolded symptoms of depression to help people see what it feels like to have depression. These are not the only symptoms. If you identify with one or more of the symptoms, I encourage you to reach out to someone and start a conversation. It could be a complete stranger or a loved one. (I'm always a listening ear, too!) Whatever you’re most comfortable with. All “Google results” are from my own google search. The crisis text line is a real resource for you to use, if you find yourself in a mental health crisis.
Also tagging a couple people who might like to read. Sorry if that's overstepping! @winchester09 @that-one-gay-girl @supernatural-harrypotter7 @winchest09
The one good thing about living in a bunker was that there were no windows. Your room that you shared with Sam Winchester was no different. It meant no morning sun could wake you up, and you could keep the room as dark and cool as you wanted to. And on this particular morning, your depression had you keeping the room as dark as you possibly could.
You knew the boys would be wondering where you were, since it was 10:30, and you were always up by 8:00. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t get dressed, brush your teeth or hair, or even get your legs swung over the edge of the bed. You were so emotionless that you couldn’t even cry. You simply didn’t care. Nothing felt important to you. You had no motivation to do anything except lie there in the gloom, curled around yourself, stuck in this dark rut.
You had no idea how much time had passed while you stayed there, motionless, until Sam came in, knocking softly as he opened the door. Your eyes glanced over to him and you could see the surprise and concern on his face at discovering your lack of activity.
“Y/N? Love, what are you still doing in bed? It’s 2:00 in the afternoon.”
You sighed. “I don’t care,” you said softly. “Nothing matters to me right now. I wish I would die. Then I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone anymore. No one would miss me.”
Sam knew you struggled with depression, but in the short time you’d been together, he had yet to see a truly deep depressive episode. It scared him, and he replied, “What? Y/N, I would miss you! You’re scaring me.”
You moved your head marginally to be able to look at him for real, and asked, “Would you let me be? I just need to be alone.” Your tone was expressionless, and it freaked Sam out.
He nodded and slowly and quietly closed the door. Once the door was latched firmly, Sam beelined for his laptop. He’d be damned if he was going to let you suffer alone and in silence.
Opening his computer, he typed in “symptoms of depression”. Among the results were, “fatigue, sleeping too much or too little, feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, loss of interest in activities that once brought pleasure, appetite loss, feelings of sadness, loneliness, or ‘empty’ feelings, thoughts of suicide or death”. His eyes widened. You met every single one of those criteria for identifying depression.
Determined to help, he next googled “how to help someone with depression”. The answers ranged from helping the loved one cope, to opening a conversation with the loved one and getting them to talk about their feelings. Asking questions such as “What caused you to start feeling like this? How can I help you right now?” Stating things like, “You’re important to me. Your life is important to me,” or “You’re not alone, I’m here for you.”
One resource he found as he researched fervently was the crisis text line. It was a number (741-741) someone could text and speak to a certified individual about whatever their crisis was. Sam noted that in the back of his mind as something to bring up to you.
Sam nodded as he read. He knew he could do all these things. His biggest goal for you was for you to feel supported and loved. Seeing you in the state you were in concerned him and it had almost sent him in a tailspin of worry. But he would remain strong for you. You needed Sam to lean on if you were going to get up to see the light.
Sam noticed Dean wander in and motioned him over.
“Hey, I gotta talk to you about Y/N. She’s in a really bad depressive episode. She said she wanted to die.” Sam’s heart rate sped up with fear just saying those words. He swallowed and continued. “I’ve been looking up depression online and I think I know how to help her. But I could use your help.”
Dean quickly responded, “So that’s why she’s still in your room. Of course. What do you need?”
Sam answered, “I’m going to have a conversation with her and see if I can’t convince her to get out of bed. Actually, once we finish talking, I’m going to carry her out if she won’t walk. But I want to give her some ideas of simple things we could do as a group that would help her snap back to us.”
Dean nodded in agreement. “I think you’re on the right track. I dated a girl for like, a week, years ago who had depression, and getting outside really helped her she said. Maybe we could go on a walk with her down to the lake. Or hell, even loop around the bunker’s perimeter a few times.”
“That’s a good idea. I was also thinking something easier, like a movie night squished between us - something to show her she’s loved and not alone. Or maybe making dinner with us, so that she’s up and about but doesn’t really have to do much.” Sam ran his hand through his hair as he thought out loud.
Dean grinned. “Oh we’d show her she’s loved. She’s like my sister. She’s not going anywhere.”
His grin faded. “Hey, what if we took her on an easy hunt? Tried to get her back in the swing of things? Maybe it would distract her from the depression.”
Sam shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She said she wanted to die, which makes me think that she might do something stupid on the hunt, like try to get killed. Or even just make a stupid mistake because her head isn’t in the game. No, I don’t think a hunt is the right option for her right now.”
“Of course. Duh. I should have known that,” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation at his cluelessness. ‘I wouldn’t want to put Y/N in danger.”
Sam sighed. “Well, we’ve got some ideas. Let me go talk to her and see what I can get her to do. We’ll be out in a bit one way or another.”
Dean nodded and headed to the kitchen to grab a bite and some coffee before doing his own research on your debilitating ailment.
----
You still hadn’t moved since Sam had come into the room. Your mind felt empty, like everything had been drained from it. You just lay there quietly, waiting for nothing.
The door opened slowly, and Sam silently came in, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t say a word, just got in the bed with you and wrapped you up in his arms to hold you close. Your back against his chest, he tried to shelter you with his body, as if he could protect you from the dark thoughts. Sam wanted you to feel his love first before he tried to say anything. The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, the only sound in the room was the sound of two humans breathing softly. You hadn’t even known, but his touch was what you’d been needing. You soaked in the moment, grateful Sam was giving you space before speaking.
“Y/N?” Sam kissed the nook between your shoulder and your neck. “I want you to know you’re not alone. I’m here for you every step of the way.”
You didn’t respond, but it created the first semblance of emotion you’d felt all day. You could feel your eyes start to well up, not understanding how he knew exactly what to say to you.
“I don’t know what triggered your episode, but I think it would help if you talked it through with someone. It doesn’t even have to be me. You could text the crisis help line, and speak to someone through that. What do you think about that?” You could hear the hesitation in Sam’s voice, as though if he spoke too loudly or firmly he’d break you.
Sighing once again, you summoned the motivation to speak. “If I talk to anyone, I’d like it to be you.”
You could feel the smile on his lips as he again kissed you.
You drew in a shaky breath and decided to describe to him how you were feeling. You told him in a whisper about how you had no motivation, no gumption to do anything. How you felt worthless and unlovable. You told him how you felt he’d be better off if you just died so you weren’t a burden anymore and how you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything today. As you spoke of your symptoms and feelings, you could feel a couple warm tears dripping into the crook of your neck and shoulder.
Once you finished, you felt Sam take a couple steadying breaths, clearly attempting to get himself together. “My love, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. If I could take this all away I would. But I’m here. I can share the weight of your burden. You mean the world to me. You are the farthest thing from a burden on me. You are the shining light in my life, guiding me and loving me. You have given me a reason to fight on. You are what I hold on to in my dark moments.” Here Sam paused, unsure whether he was overwhelming you or even getting through to you.
You turned in his arms so that your chest was facing his, your arms pressed against his chest as you brought your head to tuck under his. “Sam, I can’t tell you how much that helped me,” you said softly.
Sam took that as a cue and gently unwrapped one of his arms from your back and brought your head up to his. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to yours, sending you the message “I love you”. You allowed yourself to respond, capturing his lips with yours. Your kiss was sending the message, “Thank you.”
The two of you kissed delicately for a minute before your body began to respond. You pressed your mouth more firmly against his and adjusted your body to press closer against Sam’s. You brought one hand up and began to run it through Sam’s hair, something you knew he was crazy for. As the kiss began to become more passionate, you grabbed Sam’s hair at the roots and gently pulled, letting him know it was ok to take this a step further. He moaned a little against your mouth at the feeling of his hair being tugged on and involuntarily ground his hips into yours.
You automatically responded by thrusting your hips back against his. Sam broke the kiss long enough to look at you with an unspoken question in his eyes. You nodded, understanding his desire to show you just how much he loved you. Sam rolled you onto your back before resuming the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip, lazily requesting access to your mouth. You granted it, and began to explore his mouth with your own as if it were your first kiss. You could feel Sam slowly grinding against you, not rushing, but clearly feeling the need for some friction. His erection was bumping against your abdomen, and both of your breathing began to get shorter and heavier.
Not breaking the kiss, Sam lifted himself up on one arm and began pulling your nightshirt over your head. You allowed your lips to leave his only long enough to get the shirt out of the way and immediately brought your mouth to Sam’s again. His free hand roamed across your stomach, tracing lines in circles and random shapes as he made his way up to your breasts. Your breathing hitching, you moaned into the kiss as he began to massage your breast, pinching your hardened nipple. Your hips began to grind back against Sam’s, now also needing friction. Your arousal was beginning to pool between your legs, and you weren’t wearing panties.
Sam began to move his kisses down your jawline and to your neck, where he sucked through his teeth, determined to leave his mark on you. You cocked your neck to the side to allow him full access but he was already moving lower, taking your nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it. He pulled off it with a pop, and moved to the next one. Sam then continued to work his way down your body, kissing every inch of your stomach, navel, and down to your inner thighs. You shuddered, his lips so close to your slick folds. Sam smiled against your leg. “You like that, sweetheart?” All you could do was whimper in response as you ground your hips desperately. “Ok,” he murmured. “Ok, love. Let me show you how much I love you.”
Sam ran his tongue between your folds and immediately you felt the tightness in your core begin. He knew every sensitive spot, every place to make you writhe in ecstasy. He sucked on your clit and slowly stuck a finger in your hole. You threw your head back, eager for him to insert another, which he obliged. He bent them and ran them against your walls, curling and pumping. Your juices squelched a bit, letting Sam know just how ready for him you were. He continued to run his tongue in swirls around your clit and through your folds as he finger fucked you. The tightness in your core becoming unbearable, you could feel your release coming. You moaned loudly and stuttered, “S-Sam, I’m gon-gonna…”
“Cum for me baby. Come on, that’s it. Good girl,” he praised as your orgasm exploded, pleasure coursing through your body, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again as he rode you through it.
You lay limp against the sheets, unable to form words. Sam looked up at you and chuckled. He slowly brought himself up along your body to recapture your lips with his, putting all his love and passion into the kiss. “Now do you know how much I love you?” he asked. You smirked. You could feel his erection pressed between your bodies. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, filling you, satisfying you. “Mmm I’m beginning to,” you murmured. “I might need you to show me more.” Sam smirked back at you and said, “As you wish, my love.”
He lined himself up at your entrance, rubbing his cock in your juices. Slowly, he pushed in, letting you adjust as he went. That was one thing you loved about him. Sam never rushed your body. He worshipped it. Once he was fully sheathed, he pulled halfway out, and slowly thrust back in, creating a slow, lazy pace that made you two feel like you had all the time in the world. As he thrust, he grabbed one of your legs, and put it over his shoulder, giving him a new angle, to get him deeper.
You moaned and your pussy clenched around his cock as he hit places that gave you waves of pleasure. He groaned as you clenched around him and sped up his pace, his balls slapping against your skin. Sam took his free hand and started rubbing your clit again, trying to help you get to your climax. His other hand held your hip in place as his pace picked up even more, almost becoming erratic as he got close to his release. You threw your head back again as you felt the familiar tightness building in your core. “Oh don’t stop. Oh Sam. Oh my god. Don’t .. don’t… ahhh!!” You came loudly and harder than last time, your back arching and your pussy milking Sam’s cock for all it was worth. Sam grunted - he couldn’t handle it, the tightness, the pulsing - and released inside you, jerking his hips, spurts of cum coating your walls.
Sam gently pulled out of you, his cum dripping from between your legs. He got up and grabbed a towel from the closet and quietly cleaned you up, careful to not be too rough. You lay there in heaven, a stupid smile on your face, unsure if you’d even be able to walk the next day. Sam crawled back into bed with you and gathered you in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and said, “Do you believe me now? How much I love you?”
You smiled adoringly at him and whispered, “Yes, I do.”
Sam grinned. “Good. Because we have an activity outside the room that we’re going to do. And you need to be clothed for it.” He winked at you cheekily. “Dean and I were talking, and we brainstormed something the three of us could do that would help you feel less alone. So, let’s get UP,” he rolled you on top of him and then over him to get you to the side of the bed. “And dressed, and then we’ll go meet Dean.”
You smiled again at him, and good-naturedly shook your head as you got dressed. The darkness was gone for now. You knew it would be back, but you had ammunition to combat it the next time it came a-knocking. Sam Winchester’s love.
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Stark Spangled Banner
Ch 8: Old Friends, Not So New Tricks
Summary: When a familiar face turns up asking for Katie’s expertise, she finds herself confronted by another familiar face, this one being one she would rather never have had to see again.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Language! Blood and SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Agents Of SHIELD….
A/N: Once again huge thanks to @angrybirdcr for her edit here, and the new banner for the next couple of sections of the story as we head forward through the next few parts of SSB...
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 7
O/S: Phobias
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
November 2013
There’s a fine line between success and failure. And that last mission had well and truly teetered its way along the edge. The team had been split up after a catastrophic coms failure leaving Katie and Evans badly compromised. They had just about got the situation under control after some quick thinking from Katie and very sharp shooting from Evans, when Steve had broken every protocol in place and run head first into a gun fire to get them out, putting himself in danger.
And Katie was livid at him.
“We had it under control!” she said, her voice raised as she stormed through the corridor away from the hangar, people turning to look. They’d been arguing about it all the way home.
“Yeah, well, it didn’t look like it from where I was standing!”
“Damned it Steve!” She spun to face him. “You weren’t standing anywhere, you were running, head first into the crossfire without even thinking about what was going on!”
“The last thing I heard was that you were surrounded-”
“This is EXACTLY what I don’t want you to do!” Katie groaned as she ran her hands over her face “Run in there without a second thought for your own damned safety or anyone else’s.”
“What do you mean anyone else?” Steve’s nostrils flared.
“You left Rumlow and Rollins completely uncovered,” Katie shook her head, “to come and save me. I’m not a fucking princess that needs rescuing Steve!”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Steve’s voice was loud, displaying the anger he was feeling inside at her attitude.
“I’ll talk to you how I want!” She snapped back. “You know everyone gossips enough about us as it is and we’re almost seven months down the fucking line…”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“…and yet you STILL give them fuel!” She threw her hands out to the side, bringing them back down to her combat outfit clad sides with a slap. “Oh look at Nova, needs her Super Soldier Boyfriend to bail her out!”
“For the last time…” Steve hissed between his teeth, but Katie completely ignored him.
“If you can’t remain objective when we work together then maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t if that’s how you feel!” He practically snarled, as he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders back as his hands dropped to his belt buckle, eyes blazing.
“Glad we understand one another.” Katie spat back, before turning on her heel and heading towards the armoury to change, ignoring his shouts.
****
After debrief, for the first time in ages Steve left work alone. He was in a foul mood, and practically wrenched his apartment door off its hinges. In part he was pissed at Katie’s attitude, but in others his anger was directed at himself because deep down he knew she was right. He’d utterly lost it when he’d heard she was in trouble and hadn’t been able to do anything else but rush in there to help get them out. It was ridiculous, she was a trained agent with a shot on her like you wouldn’t believe, and the amount of times they’d been in bad situations before…but something today, something about the way she’d sounded on the radio had gotten to him and he’d abandoned all thoughts of professionalism and gone after his girl.
Sighing he threw his keys down on the kitchen side and grabbed a beer from the fridge before making his way into the living room, toeing off his boots as he want. He dropped onto the sofa and let out a loud moan of frustration, his head lolling back against the cushions. He hated that they’d rowed, this was the first big argument they’d actually had. Sure they quibbled about small things, the fact he made her sleep on the right hand side of the bed at his because it was furthest away from the door (just in case anyone got in), the way he was a bit of a neat freak and when she did stay for more than a night his apartment looked like a whirlwind had been through it (Ok, he didn’t actually mind that so much in truth), the way she tried on every fucking outfit she owned before they went out (maybe not every outfit, but close enough…), the way he often went for a run first thing in the morning and she’d get pissed he wasn’t there when she woke up because…well, because….but all that was stuff he adored. The normal part of being with someone you were comfortable sharing your life with.
As he took a pull from his bottle his eyes rolled to the right and fell on the large photo frame on his wall. It was one she had made him for his birthday.
“Open the big one first…” She instructed, nodding to the gifts that were piled on his sofa.
He did as he was told without saying a word, picking it up and resting it on his lap. It felt like a photo frame. As he peeled back the wrapping paper he realised that’s exactly what it was. It was large with glossy pine edges to match the furniture in his apartment and filled with photos of him all from his life before the ice and his eyes grew large as he took in the faces that looked back up at him. There was a photo of him and Bucky as kids, another as teenagers, then one of them in the army- the one of them laughing that Katie had said she loved. His eyes began to mist over as he saw a few shots of his parents at their wedding in Ireland, on the steps of their tenement building at Brooklyn, one of him and his mom when he was a small boy, then he spotted one of him and Howard along with various shots of him with the Howling Commandos and finally one of him, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy. And at the bottom of the frame, on a silver plaque was engraved a quote from the Wizard of Oz- ”A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”
“I thought it was a shame to just keep them in a box.” Katie said gently as she sat next to him. “I wanted you to see them every day and remember you meant as much to them as they did or do to you.”
His fingers trailed over the various faces in the frame as the memories flooded his brain and he felt a lump in his throat at the wave of nostalgia crossing over him, and also at the utter thoughtfulness that had gone into her gift.
“I picked what I thought were the nicest ones.” She continued and he was aware her tone was growing nervous. “But we can swap them if…”
“Katie,” his voice was croaky as he cut her off and looked up at her. He was right, she was biting her lip, worried that she had upset him but nothing could be further from the truth. He moved to take her face in his hands and he kissed her, hard. He pulled away and looked at her speaking with utter honesty and sincerity “This is amazing, Darlin’. Thank you so much.”
Letting out a sigh, Steve’s eyes dropped from the wall to a smaller frame on the sideboard, this one contained a photo of him and Katie a ‘selfie’ of the two of them at the Top of the Rock, taken when they had gone back to New York to visit Tony one weekend in October. He loved it, the pair of them grinning like idiots, Katie wearing a baby blue sparkly beany and matching scarf, her smile genuine and him looking like a loves-struck idiot, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he glanced at the camera. She had the same photo in her living room too.
No, he couldn’t go to bed without sorting this out. Abandoning his half-drunk bottle of Sam Adams, he shoved his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and headed out.
****
Katie didn’t even stay for debrief, more to piss Steve off than anything. It was petty, yes but she was absolutely raging at him. Their relationship had been the talk of the Triskelion for months, and for that reason, they had behaved nothing but professionally on missions, wanting to prove to not only everyone they worked with, but to themselves, that they could remain objective in their work and that them being together wouldn’t compromise the way they behaved in the field.
And now he had fucked that.
She ignored his call which came just as she got home and throwing her phone onto the sofa she grabbed a glass of wine and ran herself a bath, turning her music up loud. She lay back under the bubbles, gently humming along to the music. Music was her thing to calm down to. She’d always played piano, right from the age of four when her mom had taught her, and she wasn’t bad at it either.
The mellow sounds of John Legend’s ‘Ordinary People’ faded into the opening notes of ‘Only One In Color’ by Trapt, and Katie paused, smiling. This song took her years back, to nights in London with colleagues in bars, and then a concert in Orlando in 2009…and Steve, it took her back to Steve and one rainy afternoon in August.
Katie shimmied around, folding laundry and dropping it into the basket as she sang, loudly. It had been ages since she’d done this, just danced around her apartment like an idiot. She turned round to grab the final load out of the machine and screamed as Steve was stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame, that annoyingly cute smirk on his face.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough” He grinned, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled into her neck and the two of them stood there, still, listening to the song that was playing.
“What is it?” Steve asked, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her ear..
“It’s called Only One In Color, by a band called Trapt.” Katie replied, turning her head to look at him. “It kinda reminds me of you actually.”
Steve smiled as they listened for another second before he moved back, his hand taking hers as he raised it above their heads and spun her round, playfully as she laughed, before he pulled him to her.
“Dance with me.”
“What, here? In my apartment?”
“Our own private ballroom.”
“You’ve never danced before.” Katie looked up at him. “You told me.”
“I know, Peggy was right.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I was waiting for the right partner. So, what do you say? Teach me?”
“You know I don’t really know a lot of steps.” Katie felt a smile spread across her face as Steve placed his free hand on the curve of her waist and she began to lead them around on the spot, her right hand held in his left, her left curling up and over his right shoulder. She watched Steve, who was concentrating so hard that his brows pinched together slightly, a look that was incredibly endearing.
“Stop over thinking it.” She said gently, looking up at him. “Listen to the music and just let go.”
So he did. He let go, listening to the melody and the words, smiling a little as the lyrics hit home, really making him think about the woman in his arms. She had brought colour to his life, given him a reason to keep going in this world he had found so strange and, well, daunting. As he found his rhythm, he felt the smile pull even broader on his lips. He raised his head from where his eyes had been focussing on his feet and his girl beamed up at him, squeezing the hand that she held.
“See, it’s not that hard is it?” She giggled. Steve returned the grin and shook his head.
“Surprisingly not.” He admitted. They continued to revolve around the space in the doorway between her kitchen and laundry room and Katie lay her head on his chest, Steve’s face automatically turning down slightly so his cheek was resting against her hair. After a minute or so Katie felt him move and instinctively she looked up and could do nothing but smile as they stopped dancing and their mouths drifted closer together. Her hand slipped up, fingers stretching themselves into the short hair at the nape of his neck as his lips met hers, his hand creeping across her back, large palm pressed firmly against her spine.
They never made it to the bedroom, they made it as far as the couch before they were both naked and going at it like a couple of horny fucking teenagers. And since then it had been ‘their’ song.
Katie sighed and drained her wine glass before she set about washing her hair and climbed out of the bath. She dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie before pulling her damp hair back into a French braid and had just settled on the sofa to watch TV when the buzzer to her apartment went. Picking up her phone to look at the security camera she took a deep breath and realised it was Steve.
“Sweetheart let me in. My key card is at home.”
She gave no response.
“I’m not going till you do, you know I could do this all day. Or all night.”
Still no response.
“I mean it’s a pretty interesting buzzer.”
With a groan, knowing full well the stubborn little shit in him would do just that, she pressed the button to let him in. Half a minute or so later the alert went again to signal he had requested access to her floor. Once more she tapped to accept and turned her attention back to the TV. She didn’t look up as the elevator door in the panel in her wall slid open, keeping her eyes focussed on the television as he strode into the room, heading straight for her once he’d hung his jacket up on the hooks to the right of the elevator.
“You were gonna watch this without me?” Hesaid gently, nodding to the episode of ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ that was playing as he dropped down next to her.
“Yes.” She replied simply, her arms folded.
Steve fought the smile spreading across his face at her childishness. He knew if she was mad the worst thing he could do was laugh at her and make her think he wasn’t taking her seriously. So, he took a deep breath and turned so he was facing her on the couch, arm resting along the back.”
“I know you’re pissed at me.” He sighed. “But come on Doll, I hate fighting with you.”
“Then stop being a dick.” She snarked back. Steve took another deep breath and looked at her as she continued. “You know what it’s like at work, everyone has constantly analysed everything I do because, hello, Howard Stark’s daughter, and today…”
She trailed off and Steve looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I know. I didn’t mean to make it look like you couldn’t handle yourself.”
They fell into silence and Katie exhaled sharply, deciding to meet him half way. She knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel like he had but, there was also a part of her that had been scared. Not just for her and Evans, but seeing Steve rush in, headfirst with no regard for his own safety just to get to her had really frightened her. Despite his enhanced nature, he wasn’t invincible.
“You need to trust me when I’m out there.” She spoke, her voice was softe.
“I do trust you, you know that.” He looked at her. “But I’m not gonna apologize for looking out for you, Sweetheart. It’s my job. Both as your Captain and your man.”
“I get that, I do.” Katie sighed. “But you put yourself in danger today, running straight into the middle of a fire fight…can you imagine what I’d have done if you’d have been…”
She trailed off, swallowing and took a deep breath before she continued and her words hit Steve. He hadn’t considered she had felt as worried about him as he had her.
“We have to remain objective, and if that means you can’t just abandon the team for me.”
“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He said finally.
She looked at him and took a deep breath, the anger dissipating at his apology and moved to give him a hug, her arms round his shoulders as he wrapped his around her back and pulled her clumsily into his lap.
“I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” She sighed as she lay her head against his.
“Forgiven?” He asked and she looked down at him, he was giving her his puppy dog eyes. She rolled her own, she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but adore the fact he cared so deeply for her that he’d rush in, head first with no regard for anything else.
“Captain Dumbass.” She grumbled, before giving him a soft kiss.
“Guess so.” He chuckled. And when she didn’t protest he gently tapped her thigh, and knowing what he wanted she shifted off his lap so he could lay down flat on the sofa, allowing her to drape herself over him like blanket, head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back, legs tangling together as they settled in to watch their programme.
*****
Katie hadn’t been in the office for five minutes the next morning when she got a message to say Fury wanted to see her. In the years she had known the director, she still found it hard to get a read on him and this time was no exception. She stepped into his office and he nodded to her, and without a word got straight to business, leading her over to the screen on the wall by the sofas.
“I was wondering what you made of this.” He said nodding to the large screen on the wall. The photo displayed was of a tree trunk, cut in half and running down the middle was a long, tube like shape, with some markings on it. The photo zoomed in and Katie frowned.
“These look like the markings on Thor’s hammer.” She looked at the Director.
“Funny you should say that.” Fury nodded. “Because the Spectrographic signatures match the readings from Thor’s hammer too.”
“So whatever was in that tree was Asgardian?”
Fury nodded. “It looks that way, Nova, yes.”
“Where was it found?”
“That’s a trunk from a Norwegian spruce in Trillmarka National Park, Norway.”
“Figures.” Katie bit her lip.
“How do you mean?” Fury looked at her.
“The legends of Thor, they all have origins in Norway. When I asked him about it, Thor explained that Asgardians visited Earth thousands of years ago.” She explained. “They roamed Norway, mingling with the old Norse people, but back then, because humans couldn’t understand the concept of people from another planet, these, well, these aliens were revered as Gods.”
Fury gave a noise of understanding.
“So who took it?” She asked. “Has Thor been back since the whole incident in Greenwich or…”
“I wish he had, then I wouldn’t really give a shit.” Fury sighed. “This thing has gone AWOL. According to my team on the ground, it was taken by a woman and a man, very much of Earth”
“Great.” Katie rolled her eyes, before she continued, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Because every time something alien lands in human hands that ends well.”
Fury gave a snort and pressed a button on a remote and she turned her attention to the TV on the wall of the office. It was screening a news broadcast, footage of a riot. The runner on the bottom of the screen identified the location as Oslo.
“The rioting has left twenty injured and three in a critical condition. Reports indicate that the group of about a dozen was led by this man and woman.”
A picture of the culprits filled the screen. The man was tall, dark haired, dark eyed and had a short beard. The woman, in contrast was slight, blonde and with icy blue eyes.
“And although their motive was unclear, the message was spelled out on the streets of Oslo, for all to see”
“It looks like the item has given them powers beyond those of normal humans.” Fury spoke as the newscast panned over to a fire on the street, this time an aerial view. The fire spelt out the words “We are Gods”.
“So what do you need me to do?” Katie asked, looking at him.
“I’m gonna need you to work with one of my field teams.” Fury continued, looking at her. “My best field team, actually. I want you to help them track these guys down. You have a decent knowledge on Asgardian and Mythological history and the team could do with someone with a little background on the subject.”
“Sir, if these people are as powerful as this report is saying, shouldn’t we consider at least trying to contact Thor, possibly the rest of the Avengers?” Katie looked at him.
“No.” Fury’s response was instantaneous. “I don’t want the Avengers involving. It would attract too much attention.”
“With all due respect, they just set a street on fire. I dare say it’s already attracting a fair amount of attention so whats-“ She trailed off as Fury looked at her, an expression on his face that Katie knew extremely well having seen it several times before. The expression he wore when he was about to drop a bombshell. “Oh, what are you hiding Nick?” She frowned.
“I want you to understand that you’ve been kept in the dark about this so far for a reason. And I know you’re going to get emotional, but if you could refrain from throwing that coffee you’re holding, Nova, I’d appreciate it.”
“Dark about what?” She pressed, her tone irritated. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.
Agent Fury pressed a button on his phone on his desk. “Alright, you’re up.” And with that the TV snapped onto a different channel and she turned to see a familiar man sat in a chair on the screen.
Katie didn’t throw the coffee, instead it slipped from her hands as her mouth dropped open and the entire room swam in front of her eyes.
“Sorry, boss. The God rabbited”
“Just stay awake. EYES ON ME!”
“No. I’m clocked out here.”
“Not an option!”
The room came back into focus again and she looked from the screen to Fury, then back. “This…this is impossible.” She stammered.
“I’d have said the same thing myself not long ago.” Phil Coulson gave a shy little smile.
Katie found herself floundering for words before the anger at the lies and deceit bubbled up.
“No, you…you died! I was there, I saw it!”
“Excellent medics.” Fury concluded.
“They took you away, in a body bag!” Katie’s voice rose to a yell as she ran her hands over her face, unable to believe what she was seeing. She’d cried, mourned the loss of one of her friends, a man who had been her mentor. She looked at Coulson on the screen, and then away again, her eyes misting up slightly.
“No one knew I’d pulled through until after New York.“ Coulson spoke softly “I spent months recovering in Tahiti. It’s a magical place.”
“I want your word that you will not reveal Agent Coulson is alive to anyone.” Fury spoke and Katie turned to look at him, her face curling up in an angry sneer. “I debated long and hard about pulling you into this but we need you.”
Katie eyed the director, chin jutting upwards as she glared at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of the lies?”
“I have no option.” Fury’s face was stern. “I can’t risk the Avengers falling apart.”
“I’m not lying to them for you.” She shook her head “No way. A team is built on trust. Without that you have nohing.”
Fury looked at her for a moment, before he sighed. “That wasn’t a request, Agent Stark. If you tell anyone I’ll remove you from service.”
“So now you’re blackmailing me?”
“I’m merely pointing out your options.” Fury replied simply.
“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Fuck you. Fuck this.”
She turned to walk out of the door before Coulson’s voice rang across the room.
“Katie, please. We wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t urgent, but we really do need your help
The use of her first name, not her code name, made Katie stop in her tracks. Taking a deep breath she spun back, fire in her eyes as she glared at Coulson’s image on the screen. “Why should I?”
“Because, ” Coulson continued, “you’re the only one I trust enough with this.”
Katie ran her hands over her face, torn between wanting to leave and her desire, sorry, duty to help. In the end her duty won out and she felt her shoulders slump as she looked back towards the two men, giving them both a curt nod.
“Fine, but that does not mean that I’m happy about this. Any of it.”
“You’ll rendezvous with the Bus in Oslow.” Fury instructed, ignoring her emotion completely. “There’s a Jet being prepped to take the new shift of mobile STRIKE team members out as we speak. You can go with them.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged. With a final roll of her eyes she made to leave the room before Fury called after her.
“Agent Stark.”
“What?” she demanded as she spun round, fixing her eyes on his.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But I had to do it.”
She swallowed, before she turned and left, not trusting herself to respond.
*****
Steve was looking for Katie, he knew she’d been to see Fury and was eager to find out what it was about. After asking a few agents if they’d seen her he finally tracked her to one of the kitchens where she was sat, hugging a cup of coffee like her life depended on it, staring down at the table. He frowned, she looked absolutely beat.
“Sweetheart?” He asked tentatively as she looked up at him. His frown deepened when he saw her face. She looked distraught. “Honey, what is it?”
One look in his eyes and Katie knew she couldn’t lie to him, she didn’t want to lie to him. Fuck Fury, fuck all of this.
“Coulson…he…” She stammered, looking up at Steve, her eyes wet.
“What about him?” Steve frowned.
She took a deep breath, tears now rolling down her face. “He’s alive, Steve, he’s fucking alive.”
And then the dam broke and she began to sob. Steve instantly went into autopilot, pulling out a spare chair and moving it close to her so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried into his tevlar clad chest, his own mind whirling at the news.
Eventually she calmed down to tell him everything. And Steve listened, not saying a word, simply holding her hand, his thumb skating over her knuckles as she spoke. He did, however, make an angry noise that was half way between a snort and a growl when she told him Fury had threatened to sack her if she told anyone.
“I honestly thought I’d seen it all, that nothing life threw up would ever surprise me again.” She sighed looking at Steve as she finished explaining.
“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He smiled softly and she spluttered a watery laugh through her tears, remembering what she’d said to him the first time they had met. “There’s my girl.” Steve reached over to gently brush her cheek with his hand. “I like it better when you smile.”
“Sorry, but I’m so angry. Fury is lying, again! Has he learnt nothing from everything that’s happened over the past few years?”
Steve didn’t say anything, merely studied her face for a moment and then both of them turned their attention to the door when one of the Junior Agents appeared.
“Agent Stark, Director Fury asked me to tell you we’re wheels up in an hour.”
“Thanks.” She nodded, sniffing before she looked at Steve. “I don’t even have time to pack.”
“You got some stuff in your locker, right?”
She nodded. She always had a few days’ worth of clothes in her locker and toiletries to hand, just in case. She ran her hands over her face and stood up. “You know, I don’t even know who I’m meeting!” She shook her head. “Other than Fitz and Simmons, I’ve no idea who Coulson has on The Bus.”
“Whoever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Steve assured her. “And I know it’s shitty but they asked for you for a reason.”
“Suppose I best make the most of it, seeing as it will be my last mission, you know, on account of me telling you.”
“It won’t come to that.” Steve shook his head “I’m not gonna tell anyone I know.”
“Fury always finds out.” Katie sighed. “Tony is right about him. His spies have spies.”
Thirty minutes later she was walking to the hangar, suited in her SHIELD cat suit, Steve carrying her holdall for her as they walked. The Captain didn’t like this, he hated that she was effectively being manipulated and he would have loved nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t supposed to know. They reached the bottom of the jet and Katie turned to him as he handed her bag to one of the agents who nodded to them both.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She promised as Steve looked down at her and nodded
“Make sure you do.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not sure how I’m gonna cope without my best girl.”
“Your best girl?” She teased. “How many others do you have?”
“One or two.” He shrugged. “But they’re in different states, so, they don’t count, right?”
She gave a laugh as she shook her head. “Jerk.”
Steve chuckled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You know you’re the only one for me, Doll.” He dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “Just go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He kissed her again, this time a little longer, although both still well aware that they were in the middle of a very busy hangar, surrounded by a lot of people. Sighing, Katie pulled back and allowed herself to melt into his arms for a quick hug before she stepped back.
“I love you.” She said gently.
“You too. Be careful.” He looked at her, his features verging on stern with his warning.
“I’m always careful.” She grinned, walking backwards up the ramp, wanting to look at him for as long as possible.
“Well that’s just an out and out lie.” He raised an eyebrow, hands dropping to the buckle of his belt.
She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the main part of the jet. Steve watched for a second as the ramp shut before he turned and left the hangar.
*****
The flight over to Oslow wasn’t too long. Katie used the time to do as much reading up on the item they were tracking as possible, going through all the files that Coulson had sent her. Eventually they docked with The Bus and her and the other agents made their way to the Air Lock. The doors shut and the capsule took them down a level before the frosted glass doors opened and there, stood in front of her, was Phil Coulson. The other agents pushed past, clearly fine at the sight of a dead-not-dead man in front of them.
There was a moment’s hesitation, where Coulson and Katie simply looked at each other, and then Katie’s anger boiled over and she stepped forwards, slapping him, hard across the face. The agents who were milling around all paused as Coulson’s head snapped to the side.
“Guess I deserved that…” He said, turning his head back to look at her as everyone hastily carried on with their jobs.
As Katie stared at her old mentor, her anger melted away and with a little sigh she threw her arms around him. Coulson squeezed her back, before Katie moved a little to look at him, before she spoke for the first time.
“Good to see you again. Not dead, I mean.”
Phil gave a chuckle. “You too Nova. Come on, the rest of the team are waiting in the lab.”
He led her down the hall, Katie following, her eyes taking in her surroundings before Coulson stopped at the end of a corridor, near a door to a room that she could see had a glass wall.
“Now, before you go in, there’s something else you should know.” Coulson turned to face her and she looked at him, letting out an angry groan.
“What now?”
“I want you to know, Fury didn’t want me to tell you as he didn’t think you would come, it wasn’t my decision to keep it from you.”
“Keep what from me?” Her temper was flaring again. “I swear to God AC I am this close…”she held her fingers an inch apart, “to losing my shit!”
Coulson hesitated for a moment and then opened the door to the lab. As they walked in six people all looked up from what they’d been watching and turned to face them. One of them was a dark haired girl she didn’t know and next to her were Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz who Katie knew from the labs when they had worked with Lawson. Then she spotted Melinda May, an agent only rivalled in fighting skills by Natasha.
And then a pair of familiar dark eyes met hers as another familiar face looked up from a tablet.
“Oh for fucks sake!” Katie muttered and she turned to Coulson who shrugged apologetically.
“Good to see you too.” Ward grinned as Katie folded her arms and glared at him.
There was a moment’s pause as the two simply stared at one another, Katie’s teeth grinding together in irritation, before the girl with the dark hair spoke. “Okay, so this is awkward…”
“And this is Skye.” Coulson spoke, breaking up the tension. “She’s a…”
“Hacker.” May supplied, at the same time Skye replied, “consultant”
Katie was really struggling to keep her temper under control now, so missed the irritated glare Skye shot at May. First Coulson, now this. Fury was going to absolutely get the full Stark-slash-Supernova explosion when she got back.
“So, shall we get down to business?” Coulson asked, spotting the look on Katie’s face, realising she needed to focus on something else. “What have you got?”
“We’ve managed to identify our thieves.” May spoke as Sky pressed something on the tablet she was holding. A close up of the woman’s face appeared on the holo-projector in the middle of the room. “Her name is Petra Larson”
“And this is Jakob Nystrom, her boyfriend. Both thirty. Leaders of a Norse Paganist hate group”
“And their numbers are growing thanks to what happened in London and the internet” Sky scoffed. “Yay internet,”
“Norse Paganist?” Simmons questioned
“Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology, stories of Asgard, yada yada.” Skye explained.
“And now a weapon.” Ward gestured to a long object on the table which Katie hadn’t noticed until that point.
“Is that a 3-d print?” She asked, instantly captivated by the item, looking at Fitz who nodded. “May I?”
“Of course…” He said. Katie picked it up and turned it over in her hands, testing the weight as she scanned it up and down. The detailing was exquisite.
“The scan accounted for only one side.” Fitz explained. “There was too much damage to the tree for a complete reproduction”.
“But, see here, it’s clearly broken on both ends.” Katie held it up. “So there are more pieces.”
“Yeah, two at least” Fitz responded, nodding.
“Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set.” Ward spoke as Coulson turned to Katie.
“The markings. Just as you said on the call they’re Asgardian symbolism.”
She looked at the item in her hand and nodded. “Similar to Thor’s hammer.”
“Yeah, hard to translate with our limited knowledge.” Couslon shrugged.
“You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shout.” Sky spoke “He gets his powers from his hammer, right? What if this is his nail to the hammer?”
“He’s off grid.” Coulson looked at her. “And if he has a cell-phone, we don’t have the number.
“I told to get him a pager.” Katie muttered as she peered at the rod and then something stirred in her mind, and she began racking her brains. There was something similar about this, something that she’d seen or read before, if she could only remember what.
“So,” May looked at Katie, “SHIELD’s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers.”
“We’re charged with identifying the object and finding any other pieces before they do.” Coulson finished.
Katie nodded, still thinking. “If this acts in the same way as Thor’s hammer then that’s a sensible task.”
And then she trailed off as it suddenly hit her exactly what it was she’d been trying to remember.
“No, it can’t be.” She muttered as Coulson looked at her questioningly. She nodded to the item in her hand and then looked back at him. “I could be wrong but this…this could be a piece of the Beserker Staff.”
“The what?” Ward frowned.
“It’s from an old legend that a great warrior, from another world came to Earth” Katie spoke, recalling the research she’d done once upon a time. “He had in his possession a magical staff but he loved Earth so much he never left, and he broke the staff into pieces and hid them.”
“Any idea on where?” Coulson asked. Katie shook her head.
“Well our Pagan friends certainly seem to have some advantage on that front.” Ward sighed. “They found this thing in a hundred and fifty square kilometres of Norwegian forest.”
“Guys, what if it called to them with magic?” Sky asked, her eyes going large and excited.
“Called to them?” May shot her a ‘be real’ look in response.
“We know it’s Asgardian, so the rules are a little bendy here.” Skye pressed.
“Just because we don’t understand something yet doesn’t mean we should regress back to the dark ages, talking of magic and fairy tales” Simmons shook her head and Fitz scoffed his agreement.
“Actually, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Katie looked around as the idea came to her.
“Excuse me?” Simmons asked.
Ignoring him, Katie turned to Agent Coulson. “Remember when we first found the hammer in New Mexico, and I told Fury to consult with an expert on Norse Mythology to fill the gaps.”
“Elliot Randolph,” Phil nodded.
“We should speak to him, he’ll know more about it than me.”
“Alright.” Coulson nodded, looking at May. “He’s a professor at the University of Seville. Set the course, let’s pay him a visit.”
“Shouldn’t take us too long.” May shrugged “But it is getting kinda late. By the time we get there it will be past eight in the evening local time. Can I suggest we head out first thing tomorrow morning?”
Coulson nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. Okay team, lets wrap it up here and get something to eat. Think we’ve earned it.” He then turned to Katie, gesturing with his head for her to follow him out of the room.
He led her down a few more corridors and to a flight of steps which led up to the upper deck of the large airship.
“The Accommodation is probably a bit smaller than you’re used to, but…”
“If it’s that bad imma find a hotel.” She shrugged as she followed Coulson down the corridor.
“What and miss all the fun?” Phil looked over his shoulder. “I’ve had the gin bar stocked specially.”
“Yeah, for the record that isn’t going to take away from the fact that I’m utterly pissed at you and Fury”
“I know you well enough Nova to not even hope that would be the case” Coulson snorted as they turned right. Eventually they reached the living area and Coulson led her to one of the spare rooms.
It wasn’t as bad as Coulson made it out to be, a bed that was slightly bigger than a single but not a full double, with a small wardrobe and a small basin to the side.
“This isn’t so bad.” She turned to Phil who was watching her a little cautiously.
“Glad it meets your approval.” He nodded, leaning in the door way before he took a deep breath. “Look, I really am sorry about all of this. I wouldn’t have-“
“Let’s just find that thing and then I can go home.” Katie cut him off, not in the mood for anymore apologies or explanations. She had a job to do, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could get back.
“That’s the plan.” Coulson nodded. “I’ll be in the bar in an hour or so, got a few things to sort out before but, well, it would be nice if we could catch up.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Katie replied. There was a pause before Coulson gave her another curt nod.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
With that he turned and left and Katie’s eyes fixed on the now empty doorway. With a purposeful stride, she moved forward and pressed her palm to the pad at the side, the door sliding shut with a slight click.
Katie turned around, looking at her bag which had been placed at the foot of her bed and with a loud, angry groan of frustration she flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
*****
Chapter 9
**Original Posting**
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Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape
Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.
Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut
Chapter 15
******
Silence settles over the building. Aside from the pained breaths escaping Bruce’s lips no one makes a sound.
After the stones had been set in the gauntlet, and there was a brief discrepancy over who would snap, Bruce decided to do it. Despite it being painful, he’d still managed to do it. Now you all wait for some sign of it having worked.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
It’s the faintest sound but you recognize it, birds chirping. Scott walks over to the window.
Natasha’s hand squeezes yours when a trill ring sounds. All eyes snap to the plastic device ringing on a nearby table.
Moving like a snail, Clint inches towards his cell phone. Tears spring into his eyes immediately and he scoops it up.
“Honey? Honey?”
A smile breaks across you face. Natasha throws herself into your arms kissing your lips repeatedly.
“Guys! I think it worked.” Scott calls.
But the joy is short lived. For you before anyone else.
Rushing wind. You listen closer. An aircraft of some sort? It gets louder.
You panic and quickly press the Black Widow symbol on your wife’s belt, just barely watching the black nanotech cover her body.
A weight presses on to your left arm. Pain bursts through your ribs. Water drips on your forehead.
When your eyes snap open there’s nothing but darkness, minus the sparking of electricity coming from your wrist. Cursing, you tap the band and almost jump when the nanotech suddenly spreads from the bands and over your body.
The dark toned suit covers you and gives you the additional strength to un-wedge your arm from the rubble.
You roll your shoulders, adjusting to the additional armor.
Tony was right, an iron suit would come in handy.
Suddenly you remember.
“Tasha!” You exclaim into your comms.“ Natasha answer me! Is anyone with Natasha?”
Assist finally boots up and you frantically search for Natasha’s vitals through the A.I.
“Tasha, baby, please tell me you’re okay.”
Under different circumstances you wouldn’t have wanted everyone on the comms to hear your panic and distress. But this is your wife, you don’t give a single damn who hears if it means making sure she’s okay.
Just as your blasting through another wall of rubble, you hear the static in your ear, followed by her voice.
“Y/N, I’m-” she breaks up,“ I’m okay.”
“Where are you?” You ask, eyes searching the opening you stumble into.
Assist finally displays her vitals. Her heart rate is a little high but you expect nothing less. On a whim, as you hadn’t designed it for this, you ask Assist to find vitals on the baby.
It’s highly possible it won’t work.
So you’re breathing a sigh of relief when Assist displays the babies heart beat. They’re still alive and until an actual check up can be made that’s enough.
“I don’t know, but I’m with Clint.” Natasha answers after a minute.
Hearing that calms you. At least a little.
Still, you won’t truly settle until you see her, until you have her in your arms.
The three of you aren’t the only ones trapped. Eventually you hear Rhodey’s distress call, he’s under here somewhere in danger of drowning.
You move as quickly as possible, searching for wherever Rhodey is. He’s with Rocket and Bruce. As you search, you catch bits and pieces of Tony, Steve, and Thor’s voices.
A broken statement from Thor, of killing someone, comes through and you’re filled with dread.
Thanos.
It has to be. But how?
Everything that’s happening confuses the hell out of you. It’s clear that Tony, Steve, and Thor are fighting Thanos. Rhodey, Rocket, and Bruce are taking on water but Scott says he’s there. You’ve yet to hear from Clint or Natasha again, sans some unidentifiable grunting.
You know you’ve reached Rhodey’s location when you step into knee deep water.
Not wasting a second, you go under the water. It’s easy to find Rhodey and Rocket, they’re holding their breaths but struggling to get free. Swimming over, you lift the bits of rubble that have Rhodey pinned down before grabbing him and Rocket and bringing them to the small space you’d come from.
You dive back under in search of Bruce.
Whatever is happening above is making the rubble down here fall faster.
Finally you reach him. Despite the suit it’s still difficult to get the large man to the surface. But you manage to.
“Tha-thank you.” Bruce speaks through water filled coughs and deep breaths.
Simply nodding, you survey your surroundings. Assist lets you know that there’s a thick layer of debris above you. Too large a shift will result in your inevitable demise.
“Guys we’re trapped down here. There’s too much rubble above us for me to break through.” You speak into the comms.
More static hits your ears and you know you’re too far under to get the signal to anyone above.
Just as you’re about to give up, a rapidly growing Ant-Man emerges from under the water. He scoops you all into his hand and bursts through the wreckage of the compound.
As you rise, a big blue and red metal capsule flies over. It breaks apart before forming around Rhodey’s body. A suit.
Looking down you take in the many light circled portals. Familiar faces stand outside of them, the people you’d fought beside in Wakanda five years ago. Others you’ve never met.
Scott lowers you to the ground and you jump out of his hand. A glance to your side reveals your wife, clad in her own black iron suit, and her best friend.
War cries sound behind you.
“AVENGERS!”
Everyone turns to face Thanos and his large army. You quickly produce two standard pistols.
“Assemble!”
When you fight this time it’s harder than the last. Determination to beat Thanos drives each move you make. Every time you take down one of the many aliens, you feel as if you’re getting stronger.
The first time Thanos came you were solely motivated by protecting the universe. Now though, now you fight for your family, you fight for your wife and unborn child. You fight for the future that is so close you could taste it.
A groan falls from your lips at how many of these creatures there are. Ones you remember from Wakanda and new ones as well.
Managing to clear the enemies in your immediate area, you pause to take a breather.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired lyubov moya.”
Natasha stops beside you, the mask of her suit disappearing to reveal her face. Apart from some dirt she looks fine.
“We both know I have stamina for days baby.” You retort cockily, also revealing your face.
Before you can see the flush of her cheeks, her mask reforms.
“You two should really learn how to read a room.” Sam’s input in your conversation makes you laugh.
A smirk clear on your face, you shrug, speaking a noncommittal sorry into the comms before resuming the fight.
The fighting seems to last hours with no clear view of who’s to win. It all shifts though when Clint asks Steve what to do with the gauntlet.
Steve is unsure at first. The original plan was to return them after the snap but the bombing destroyed the portal. Scott is quick to remind you all of his van.
Except it’s in the middle of the sea of Thanos’ army. So everyone begins to work together to get the gauntlet to the van.
It literally becomes a game of hot potato. The gauntlet is passed through multiple sets of hands. Even getting from the King’s hands to yours to Peter’s.
Faintly through the comms you hear the gruff shout of the mad titan, but you have no clue what he said. It becomes clear though when his ships start to fire relentlessly.
Being completely out in the open, you scramble to find cover. Only for your wife to appear at you side. She throws her arm up, the shield from her suit covering the top of you both.
No, you hadn’t put the shield interface in your suit. You hadn’t had the time.
The blasts do more damage to Thanos’ army than it does to your side. He’s thinned his army by an enormous amount but doesn’t let up firing. That is until it suddenly stops.
Everyone looks on as the ships aim to the sky.
A literal ball of fire shoots through the clouds. Crashing through the biggest ship and completely disabling it.
The second you recognize it as Carol you smile wide. Not just at seeing your friend but also at the obvious shift in the battle. It finally seems as though you have a chance.
Now to get those stones to the portal.
Both you and Natasha head toward where Carol landed, arriving to see Peter Parker handing her the gauntlet.
“I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that.” The kid states, looking from the advancing wave of enemies to Carol.
Wanda lands right behind the space traveling woman,“ don't worry-”
“She's not alone.” Your wife finishes.
Wanda smiles over at Natasha. Every woman apart of the battle assumes a spot around Carol, readying their weapons.
“Is it just me, or do you ladies feel insanely powerful right about now?” You ask, smiling approvingly at the female power surrounding you.
Pepper chuckles and Carol agrees.
From there each of you kick as much ass as possible to clear the way for Carol.
Natasha, Valkyrie, Wanda, and Pepper handle covering the air. They take down the giant flying creatures while also shooting at enemies on the ground.
Despite trying to stick close to Carol, you end up getting caught in an onslaught of ape like aliens and the creatures from Wakanda.
It takes a minute but you are able to take them all out. Chest heaving, your eyes snap over the field, lingering on the battles being had, and focusing on the most important part of everything.
Carol speeds through ships and enemies toward the van. From your position you see Thanos charging at her, only to be stopped by Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey.
He stumbles back, but doesn’t lose focus of Carol and the gauntlet. You watch as he throws his weapon toward the van and you blast it with a repulsor beam that is milliseconds from missing but hits it’s target.
The sword is knocked off course, flying in the opposite direction as Carol gets the gauntlet to the van.
Pure euphoria spreads through your chest as she hands the gauntlet off to Scott before he and Hope vanish into the quantum realm.
Thanos rages, concentration switching from you to Carol, essentially locking on to you, the reason he’s failed.
“Uh, angry titan, angry titan!” You exclaim into the comms, shooting a repulsor beam at the giant, pistols forgotten all together.
It knocks him back, but only a little. You look around for a possible plan of action, only to stop short when the problem is resolved.
A lightening covered axe sails towards you, cleanly slicing through the neck of the titan, stopping inches from your form, and then returning to the hands of the god.
Beheaded, the titan’s body falls to the ground. The so called children of Thanos have long since been dealt with, leaving the few seemingly mindless creatures behind. But they’re quickly being dealt with.
Still you hold your breath, eyes falling to the ugly brown van stuck in rubble.
The quantum tunnel still pulses with light and you watch it closely. Only to mentally fist pump when Scott and Hope reappear in front of it, empty gauntlet in hand.
With the mad titan dealt with and the stones returned, the threat to the universe vanishes. Everyone deals with the remaining aliens until the field is littered with their bodies and rubble from destroyed ships.
Yet you don’t breathe easy. Instead you look all over the field, panning over superheroes and warriors, familiar faces meet your eyes but not the one your looking for.
Next you search the ground. Maybe she’s just unconscious or underneath a bit of rubble. But nothing.
Dread floods your system, thoughts whip through your head as you process that she’s nowhere to be seen. She can’t possibly be gone. You’d done everything you could to ensure you didn’t lose her.
What could’ve possibly gotten through the suit? How had you managed to screw that up?
Tony and Pepper, in each other’s embrace, look over to you. Their concerned gazes grabs Steve’s attention who looks at you as well. The lack of your wife’s presence beside you has them searching the field as well.
Your vision starts to blur, panic blinding you to whatever they start to say.
You quite literally start to crumble in on yourself, until you feel the soft hands on each side of your face, a familiar warmth accompanying them, but you struggle to focus on her.
“Breathe lyubov moya.” Her sultry voice slips into your ears and soothes your mind.
She strokes your cheeks with her thumbs, coaxing you into security.
With her whisper of “I’m okay” you’re finally breathing properly. Blinking back unshed tears, you pull her into your embrace. Your suits clink together but you couldn’t care less.
Instinct has her face resting in the crook of your neck, warm breath fighting the sudden chilly wind. You kiss her neck, just above the retracted metal of her iron suit.
You remain in her embrace for a moment longer, needing the assurance and grounding. After pulling away, you can’t help but smile at the sight of everyone that you’d watched disappear five years ago, plus the additional faces of the people you’d yet to meet.
A nonverbal agreement is made to reconvene to celebrate at a later time, when things have settled, and you all aren’t standing in a crater moments from flooding.
Hand in hand with Natasha, you exit the hole in the ground.
“Please tell me you’re taking me home.”
Getting a good look at your wife, you see the adrenaline slipping away and revealing her exhaustion. She’s still incredibly gorgeous behind the thing layer of dirt on her face and minor cuts.
How she managed to get cuts on her face through the mask is unbeknownst to you, but you’re determined to make sure she’s taken care of.
“Hospital first, home second.”
She gives a tired sigh, but agrees nonetheless.
Knowing they may not have anywhere to go, you offer the keys to your lake house to Steve, telling him that they are free to use the place to get clean and rest up.
You don’t leave with Natasha until after she’s said a couple ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s.
******
Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp@izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam@confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519@higherfurther-romanova @dynnealberto
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Biting The Bullet
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Words: ~1.4k (wow kinda on the shorter side)
Summary: In which he’d do anything to keep his best girl out of harm’s way, even if that meant putting his own life in danger.
Warnings: slight mentions of violence/injury, angst but with a happy ending (I’m a hoe for this trope), stern and soft steve ;-)
A/N: I’ve been stuck on this oneshot for the past several days sflwlww it was such a pain in the butt. but here’s some soft angst for you :)
Tags: DEDICATING THIS TO MY LOVELY @wxstedhexrt I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH BBY
After spending all day in the medbay waiting for Steve to come out of surgery, you were exhausted. Sam tried forcing you to get some rest but you refused, sticking by his side all night, hoping and praying for a miracle. You felt your chest ache with guilt.
You were the reason why he was currently lying unconscious in a hospital bed. It was you who caused him to end up like this.
Eventually you're too exhausted to continue. After fifty-two consecutive hours of staying awake, both counting before and after the mission, you allowed Bucky to take you back to your room, gently laying you down in bed and pulling the covers over you.
You could've knocked out for two hours or two days. It was 3 a.m. when you came to and you found yourself craving some coffee now that you were unable to fall back asleep. Sliding your feet into your slippers, you padded down the hallway. You paused in the middle of the kitchen when you saw someone approaching.
"Y/N?"
"Steve? What the hell are you doing awake right now? You should be in bed, resting. "
Steve's jaw clenched as he watched you for a long moment, silent. He looked almost too good to be true, standing there in his grey sweats and black, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, displaying his toned and muscular forearms. You could make out hints of dried blood staining the bandages around his torso - and quickly looked away. You didn't need another reminder of what had happened. You were guilt-tripping yourself enough already.
"Are you brave or are you stupid?" were the first words out of your mouth after several moments of awkward silence.
"I was just doing my job, Y/N. How is that stupid?"
"Because you almost got yourself killed," you gritted your teeth. "Your job was not to almost die out there, Captain."
"Well then, if you're so insistent, then I'm sorry-"
"I want an explanation, not an apology."
"Fine," he sighed crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll make this short and simple. There was a guy ready to shoot you. You were busy fighting off another guy. He shoots, you die. I can't just let that happen when I know I'm capable of preventing your death, so I jump in and take the hit for you."
"And you almost died, Steve."
"So what if I did? At least I'd die knowing your life was spared. Isn't that enough?"
"'So what if I did?' Are you fucking serious?" He visibly bristles at your harsh tone. "What is it with your completely blatant disregard for your own safety? I can't - if you actually died, I don't-"
"Y/N, it was for the best. The least you can do is be grateful-"
"No," you hissed, "I don't think you understand. What if you actually died? How do you think I'd feel? I don't even wanna think about how I'd feel if that happened. If you died, then the blame is all on me because I was the reason behind it. I don't know if I can live with that. I can't- I can't lose you. I'm terrified of losing you, I was scared shitless and I thought you were gone for good and I - I thought I'd never be able to see you again. My biggest fear has always been losing those I cared about and for one horrifying moment...I thought it had come true."
Your chest was heaving as you finished, heart beating so fast it was difficult to take in a breath without feeling faint. You felt your eyes sting with tears but quickly blinked them back. You weren't about to cry in front of him, but your attempts proved futile when you felt those tears slipping down your cheeks. You balled your hands into fists and bit your bottom lip.
His bright blue eyes wistfully looked straight into yours, making you feel as if you would pass out at any moment. The way he seemed to stare deep into your soul, the way he gazed at you with a softened look in his features that made you weak at the knees.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you questioned. "Stop looking at me with that- just stop."
"Like what?"
"Like you care. Stop looking at me like you care about me. Stop doing that."
"I do care," he murmured lowly. "Y/N, I did it because I care about you."
"You...you what?"
"If it were you who had taken that hit, and not me, you would've died on the spot."
"You dropped your job just to take a bullet for me. You compromised your own safety just to take a bullet for me. You compromised the entire team's safety. You willingly risked the lives of millions for one person. Why?"
"Because it's not just one life...it's yours."
A broken sob escaped your lips. "Who am I to you that you'd put your life on the line for me?"
"My everything."
You froze. Surely you hadn't heard him right. He was joking. He was lying. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth. He didn't actually care.
But the look in his eyes told you otherwise.
He took a step forward and his hand moved to the nape of your neck as the other rested on the small of your back, pulling you closer as your heart raced at what had to be at least a million miles per hour. It was quite ironic - an Avenger who could handle almost everything thrown her way, was weakened by love?
Before you knew it your lips were centimeters apart - so close that you could feel his breath against your neck as he hovered above you - and you're pretty sure that your heart just stopped.
Then finally, he closed the gap between you and gently pressed his lips to yours. Instead of the explosive feeling of fireworks or your stomach doing somersaults, a bubbly feeling began spreading from your head all the way down to your toes. It tasted of your tears and hell, his tears, too, your heartbreak and guilt and his heartbreak and you felt weightless, like were drifting through open space, and the only thing keeping you fully tethered to Earth was the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your hips. With the touch of his lips, you were home. He was your home.
But as soon as he pulled away, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged him back towards you to kiss him a second time, unwilling to let go of him just yet.
If it weren't for having to take a breath of air, you most likely would have gone on all night. And even when you did pull apart, he was reluctant to do so - the last time he let you out of his sight, he almost lost you.
It was a silly fear to have, but he couldn't help but feel a burning obligation to take you under his wing and hold you tight, and keep you safe here in his arms. Fearing for your safety and wellbeing was almost second nature. It was a primary instinct of his to always check up on you and make sure you were safe - he'd been doing so ever since you first met.
He didn't have to ask you to know you'd stayed by his side the entire time, crying and crying for hours on end until your throat felt too scratchy and sore from sobbing hysterically. He knows, he knows what he did was going to upset you but in that moment, he knew he had to do something as there was nothing between you and the bullet, and he dove into the crossfire headfirst without a second thought.
Because if things ever came down to it, he'd willingly die if it meant you got to live.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, burying his face into your hair. "I promise you I'm not going anywhere this time...Darling, don't cry...I'm so sorry."
You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against his broad shoulder as you willed yourself not to break down a second time.
"I love you. You don't have to say it back...I just wanted you to know. And that's why I'd die before letting anything happen to you. Because I love you more than anything."
"You really think I wouldn't say it back? You idiot," you muttered. "I love you too."
Steve let out a shuddering sigh, hugging you even tighter. "I love you so much."
"I know."
(Yes, he did understand that reference.)
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If you do prompts can you write a jealous tony bc he sees peter kiss mj’s cheek at a avengers party and gets all possessive bc peter is his.
Not my best work but I hope you still enjoy!! There may be a few errors because my google docs was playing with me. Since it’s anon, I’m not sure who to contact to apolgise for not giving the prompt justice, so I’ll just do it here. I’m sorry, but as always, thank you for the request <3
Warnings: Implied Stucky, mention of the term exhibitionism, mention of harrasment but no details, just use of the term
If there was one thing Tony had learnt about his boy, it was that Christmas was an important time for him. It held no real significance other than it being a holiday (he wasn’t exactly religious) but Peter was adamant that Christmas was “the best time of the year” and he just wanted to share that with the others.
The Christmas Party was proposed totally on a whim. Tony was at an age where that sort of stuff just didn’t appeal to him. But to his much younger boyfriend, parties were fun, and exciting - of course they were, Peter wouldn’t be the one waking up with a raging headache and feeling like death.
When Tony expressed his doubts on the whole thing, Peter pouted and gave him the eyes and suddenly Tony was funding a party he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go to himself. He reached a point of certainty when he realised he much preferred his domestic life with Peter as they decorated the compound with trees and fairy lights and cute little reindeer statues. But of course he’d still go, he didn’t want to disappoint Peter, and he also didn’t want to be seen as the old man avenger, especially when everyone else already said they’d already be there. So despite much rather wanting to be in bed with Peter, he got dressed and put on a smile. He didn’t have much of a choice anyway, it was in his home.
Aside from the avengers, Peter had invited both Ned and Mj, and of course May. But after an hour or so, Tony noticed she had disappeared - come to think of it, so had Happy.
Tony shook his head, choosing not to worry about it too much, as his eyes scanned over the room. They’d turned from cheesy Christmas top hits, to some more chill music, as Vance Joy played in the background. His gaze settled on Peter. He was sitting on the couch, one arm strung across the back, where Mj was sitting, and Ned to his other side. Two chairs in front of them were occupied, one by Sam and the other by Steve and Bucky who Tony remembered struggled to both sit on the chair, but pride meant neither was letting up, so Bucky just ended up on Steve’s lap. Peter had a plastic cup in his hand (he was trying to make this as authentic to high school parties as possible because in his words: “you guys are old and I want to remind you of what it’s like to be young again”) but he didn’t seem too drunk, so Tony knew it was probably just soda. Adorable!
He watched as Peter’s lips parted probably to let out his angelic laugh. It all lined up with the slight crinkle of his nose, and that lopsided expression as one flushed cheek raised slightly higher than the other. His head tipped back just slightly and after a second, it bowed forward. He presumed Sam was telling the trio a story, because all three laughed, but of course the only one he wished to witness was the masterpiece in his line of vision.
Peter seemed to perk up, and Tony’s own lips twitched into a smile, pushing himself off the bar so he could approach and join in on the conversation. But his face dropped after a second, and his movements faltered.
Peter had seemed to captivate the conversation, his hand gesturing wildly in such a way that Tony feared for the drink in his cup. It wasn’t hard to get lost in the angelic sound of the boy’s voice, he knew that all too well. He watched as his conversation partners leant closer in an attempt to hear him better. Some more laughs. And then Peter gestured towards Mj, a cheeky grin on his lips before he leant forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Tony imagined the soft lips pressing against her skin, he thought so hard about it, he very almost tasted it on his own lips.
He didn’t want to know what the conversation was about, he didn’t want to know why the kiss was given, playful or not, all he knew was that he didn’t like it. If he was more aware of himself he may have been able to stop the throaty growl he produced. Tony didn’t like to think he was a jealous man, but everybody knew he was.
In a moment he was beside the couch, looking down on Peter with what can only be described as a possessive growl. “Any room for me there baby?”, he asked, his tone low. It wasn’t necessarily aggressive, but if someone didn’t know Tony they may say it seemed angry. But Peter recognised it well. His sweet gaze flickered over the slight tenseness in Tony’s jaw, and the darkened look in his eyes, and with a soft sigh, he allowed a gentle smile to form on his lips. “There’s always room for you”, he responded.
Slowly Peter rose, wiggling his jean-clad hips lightly to the music as he waited for Tony to sit down. He was desperately clutching at some kind of sweet innocence to avoid Tony from getting too jealous. And the only way to do that was through the art of seduction. Of course, everybody here knew of their relationship, it would have been much too hard to keep it from them, but that wasn’t Peter’s problem. It was the fact that he was sure they were going to see much more than they wanted to if he didn’t calm him down.
Tony called it asserting dominance, Peter called it exhibitionism.
Tony gave Mj a snide look as he walked around to sit in the place Peter had just vacated. “I just thought I’d make an appearance, I missed this little one too much”, he hummed, gesturing to Peter who sighed softly in response.
Catching Steve's eyes Peter pouted slightly at the playful look in his own. They were both thankful for the fact that Steve, or any of the other avengers for that matter, had never found themselves at the end of Tony’s jealousy and possessiveness over Peter. But they had witnessed it when some people on trips got too close and touchy with Peter.
With the gracefulness of a doe, Peter plopped down on Tony’s lap, sitting across his knees and draping his arms around his neck. “I missed you too”, he whispered softly, nuzzling their noses together in an overly cute display of affection. Across from them, Sam began to gag, and once again, the masterpiece of a laugh was on display.
“Why don't you finish your story Peter?”, Steve asked and Peter’s head whipped around to look at him with a heated glare. Of course Steve knew what he was doing, and that’s why he was doing it. But Tony raised an eyebrow, gently patting Peter’s thigh. “Oh yes sweetheart, don’t let me stop you. I’m sure I’ll love to hear it.”
Peter bit down on his tongue. Clearing his throat he shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s cheek. “You know, I don’t think I quite remember what I was talking about… but hey, Bucky, why don’t you-”
He was cut off by Ned shifting in his seat, “Oh sure you do, you were telling us about that time with Mj, when you pretended to be her boyfriend so the guy at the library would stop harassing her.”
Tony felt Peter let out a shaky breath as he relaxed his body against the man’s chest. A small hand came to grip his shirt, as he nuzzled his head into his shoulder. “Oh really?”, Tony questioned, the grip on Peter’s waist he had tightening possessively, “And what exactly did pretending entail?”, he asked. Above Peter’s ear, the grinding of his teeth echoed and Peter frowned slightly.
“Nothing. I just held her hand and kissed her cheek. The guy got all worked up and started swearing and Mj shouted at him to ‘watch his profanity’”, at the last part Peter put on a high-pitched voice to mimic hers’s and the group began to laugh. Well, everyone but Tony did.
“Yeah, I actually, I don’t feel so good. Tony can you come to the bathroom with me”, he asked, blinking up at him innocently. His cheeks were flushed red and they both knew it was a lie, but still Tony huffed and nodded. Of course, not before he grabbed Peter’s face and bought him into a deep kiss - when they were done Peter’s lips were swollen and he was left breathless as he stood and grabbed Tony’s hand to lead him from the room.
“Tony~”, he whined, as he led them to the elevator with a small pout on his lips. As the door closed he got onto his tip toes and smushed their faces together with wide eyes. “Don’t be a meanie”, he begged.
“Oh I’m the meanie?”, Tony questioned. “I’m the meanie when you’re the one going around kissing people’s cheeks and flaunting it in my face that you can get someone your own age.”
With a heavy sigh, Peter bounced back off his feet, and frowned. “It was a friendly kiss, it meant nothing. You seriously can’t be jealous of me kissing my best friend?”, he asked quietly.
At Tony’s silence, Peter got all the answers he needed. “I love you Tony, and only you. Do I have to remind you of this anytime I get too close with one of my friends?”, he asked, smiling up at him. He wasn’t mad. He knew Tony was insecure, especially about the age difference. So although it may get annoying at times, he always just wanted to try his hardest to reassure Tony that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“No…”, Tony pouted, stepping dangerously close into childish territory and Peter giggled sweetly.
“If you want, we can ditch the party, and we can go upstairs, and you can get all the kisses and all the cuddles, because i’m your actual boyfriend and I love you more than anyone else. Forever and always”, he offered, tugging on Tony’s shirt gently in an attempt to try and get him out of his mood.
Tony sighed, and moved to press a kiss to Peter’s head. “If we can take a bath too, and you wash my hair, I think I might even apologize to Mj”, he muttered. Peter smiled and again the masterpiece of a laugh display surfaced before he nodded.
“Deal”, he hummed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as the elevator opened up on the penthouse, before he dragged Tony over to the bathroom.
~~
Tag list: @itsmexavie @icandoakickflip
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Mob!Tom Holland - Fawn (9)
This is the deepest chapter so far! I know it can be a bit confusing, because there are a lot of information and explanations for past events. In next chapters everything will be more clear. Shout out to @himynameis-groot, happy birthday! Hope you’re having a good day, and that this chapter cheers you up!
A/N note at the end!
This is inspired by Don’t play with fire , @peaceisadirtyword. It’s an amazing Ivar fic, take a look if you have time! Previous parts in the general summary. Click here to read the previous parts!
Plot: now is time for explanations, although Tom is not going to be the one recieving a surprise.
Tom had been wearing one of his most beautiful smiles, his eyebrows up just as whenever he teased you for not talking or looking at him. His eyes had been kind and warm, but as the rest of his body, they changed. His smile dropped when he first locked his eyes with the most colourful part, the swollen bruise from your eyebrow to your cheek.
Veins popped on his neck and his shoulders probably became a size bigger. His whole body seemed to bulk out in a threatening way, and his eyebrows fell to the normal level. His eyes moved at a vertiginous speed across your face stopping on the stitches on your forehead and counting them. You saw how he stopped in each one of them, and his gaze grew darker. Lisa was doing a really hard effort in staying put, but you could feel her knee shaking from under the desk.
“Hi” you said, coming out like a wounded animal. Your sight became blurry with tears when you recognized the same Tom as in Claudio’s accident. “Didn’t think you would actually, you know, come”
“So I didn’t see how you’ve been beaten?” Tom asked as soon as you said the last word. “Last time I saw you that wasn’t there”
“I haven’t been beaten” you were quick to rectify, although you were sure Tom didn’t care about it.
“I’m pretty sure I know what a beaten face looks like” he bit back.
His tone wasn’t gentle or nice, but had a sharp edge that you had heard barely a few times before. People around you had started to leave, lunch time over and work schedules coming back. Some of them glanced at you on their way out or even murmured too loud something about Tom.
Neither of you talked again until the place emptied itself. You couldn’t know what Tom was thinking about, but you were mad. With yourself, because you hadn’t been able to stop Richard before things got too bad. With Richard, because he had played with you and had put microphones on your clothes without you know, risking Tom’s life. With the world, for giving you Tom in such a bad moments.
Only two desks were occupied and you had the impression it had to do with Tom’s appearance in the café. It all looked like a bad action film, where everyone left a place without any apparent reason because something important was going to happen. Even Lisa, who was hesitant to leave, was starting to fidget awkwardly.
“Lisa, can you leave?”
It wasn’t a question, but a polite order. Tom barely opened his mouth to spit out the words, just gritted them through his clenched teeth. You felt her eyes on you, and you knew she would only do it if you wanted her to.
“It’s fine” you attempted to smile at her, looking at your friend. “Try and finish the project I’ve left on the desk, and I’ll catch you soon”
She didn’t seem convinced at all, and it took her a few seconds to make her decision. You didn’t tear your eyes away from hers, and finally, she looked down. The conversation you had to have with Tom was only yours, and you couldn’t lie to him anymore. Lisa, who just barely understood what was happening, was better outside the café.
As she took her purse and left some money for the waitress, you looked back at Tom. He hadn’t moved from your face since he had seen the bruise, but you didn’t feel afraid. All those thoughts about how Tom might react when you told him the truth disappeared when the moment came, because you were sure Tom wouldn’t hurt you. When you talked to Richard, you were always afraid of his reaction, but not with Tom.
With Tom, the only thing that could happen was that he decided you were worth his time anymore. And, strangely, it seemed worse than facing an angry mob leader.
Lisa got up and, with one last encouraging look, walked out of the café. You ran over your head all the things you had to say to Tom one last time, trying to put some order on your thoughts before blurting it on him. If telling him meant he wouldn’t be in danger because of you, you wondered if it was for the best.
Before you had time to say anything, he beat you to it.
“Was it Richard?”
You opened your mouth to say that yes, it had been him but that you had an explanation for everything, that you weren’t –
Your brain seemed to stop working and you only managed to stare at Tom without blinking. Your mouth was still open, the words stuck to your throat as you assimilated that Tom had asked if it had been Richard; without you telling him his name. He had still the same angry look on his face, that seemed to grow even angrier when you didn’t answer. His eyes, every once in a while, would trail upwards and look at the stiches.
You didn’t have time to catch up with the information you were given, and Tom tried to stop a guilty smile coming up. He seemed to find your confused face funny, because his shoulders relaxed and some of the tension left his face. His lips shook in an awkward grimace that turned into a small smile, and he adverted his eyes from your face to look to the pile of napkin on your side of the desk.
When he looked back to you, his eyes weren’t that hard.
“Don’t look at me like that” he said. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I noticed your behaviour the first time you entered in my club, and I recognized Jacob when he was molesting you. Thought he would be more discreet about going back to the police’s van parked outside”
You opened and closed your mouth, too surprised and shocked to say anything. The café could have been still full and you wouldn’t have seen anyone but Tom. Everything that you had put up in the few minutes that Tom had been with you – a plan to tell him that you were Richard’s girlfriend and that he had been manipulating you into spying on him. Tom actually let out a small chuckle and crossed his arms in front of him, looking at you with fond eyes.
“I made a background check on you as soon as you left the club that night, Elysia followed you”
“Elysia” you repeated the name, thinking it was unfair how it was Tom explaining things to you and not the other way around.
“Elysia is Sam’s girl, the blond chick that is always by his side” he explained. “She followed Richard the next day and heard a conversation between him and Jacob. He’s pretty stupid, so he basically told her everything without her asking”
“You knew I was dating Richard” you said, feeling as if you were talking too slow.
Tom nodded, giving you time to pronounce your next words. You thought about ‘Elysia’, and about Sam’s hateful glares everytime he looked at you. Everyone in the Holland’s family knew that you were dating the police’s chief and the only one who had been wary of you had been Sam. There were too many questions rounding around your head, but your inner voice stepped over all of them and blurted out the one you were dreading.
“Why didn’t you do anything?”
Behind your words, there was the affirmation both of you understood but neither of you wanted to say; why were you alive. You had been a threat to his family and friends, you had been the reason Dom has been beaten and still, Tom had acted like nothing was wrong, putting himself in danger.
The question made him both uncomfortable and angry, and he shifted in his seat. Some girl who worked there closed the main door without saying anything, and walked back to behind the counter where she disappeared.
“I was going to, the night when we met behind the club” Tom explained. “But I heard the conversation between Richard and you, and then you started talking and smiling at me, and I knew I had it deep for you”
“You should have done something” you replied, ignoring the confession at the end, even if your heart jumped in your chest. “I was – I could have costed you your life”
“And I would have deserved it” he chuckled, keeping his eyes on you. “You’re hard to tear apart from, fawn”
You remembered Sam telling him that it would come to bite him on his ass, and probably his whole family had said so about you after hearing the truth. But Tom had known too and had stayed with you, meeting you behind the club and having normal conversations.
“What about Dom?” you attacked again, almost mad that he wasn’t angry. “I got him –“
“You better not blame that on you” Tom interrupted, his voice hard and sharp. “People we care about get hurt all the time, because that comes with our job. What happened to Dom would have happened either way, not because of you”
You retreated your hands to your lap, and looked again to the pile of napkin on the desk. It was too much information and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Something told you that you should feel happy, because that meant you wouldn’t have to worry about loosing Tom, and that he understood what you had done. But there was the new part of you that had awoken lately and that hated people lying to you.
Richard had been lying about almost everything for the last months, using you to get information about Tom. And you wondered if Tom had done the same. It wasn’t the same – because Richard was supposed to love you and care about you, and if Tom had used you, he had every right, since you were the first one lying.
Tom sighed and you knew he understood you without saying anything.
“I know you have a lot of questions” his hand gripped the one in your lap, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll answer all of them”
“What do I do now?”
“Let’s start by staying with me a few days, if that’s fine with you” Tom searched your eyes with his, and finally looked up. “I’m not going to let him near you again, fawn. Mobsty promise”
A traitorous smile appeared in your lips and you nodded. Then, Tom got up and extended his hand towards you. The last two days had been crazy, and you had lived on pure adrenaline and fear. You felt exhaustion creeping up on you, dying to sleep for at least ten hours on a row. It wouldn’t all be solved with him, but you had to start somewhere.
So you accepted his hand and said nothing when he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close the whole way to his car.
A/N:
I really hope this isn’t too much of a shock! I mean, I thought about writting it as if Tom didn’t know anything - but then, I realized that we’re talking about a mob, and if we’re being realistic, she hasn’t been too discret... So I decided to create Elysia (Sam’s girl in real life, but blonde) character. Sam doesn’t seem much of an asshole now, does he?
Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!
Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:
@delicately-important-trash
@lexxxistrips
@smilexcaptainx
@aikaterrina
@zalladane
@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)
@nikkixostan
Tom Holland Fawn taglist:
@averyfosterthoughts
@killerqueenvibes
@spideylovin
@fantastic-fans
@addictofsupernatural
@americaswritings
@itsjusttor
@sunflxwer99
@dramione-winchester-mccall
@nicolettalauren
@coveredinthemessimade
@spideydobik
@runway-to-my-aid
@yeahimcrying
@herondale-snow-carstairs
@softstarkk
@atomicwinneralienhairdo
@watson-emma
@ifntelyinspirit
@himynameis-groot
@harishaanne
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End of the World
Title: End of the World
Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2392
Square Filled: Nightmare
Summary: It’s “The End” as God nicely put it… and it seems like it really is the end… for everyone.
Warnings: Angst, Explicit Language, Major Character Death, TW: Suicide, Mentions of Death, Blood, and again, a lot of Angst. This whole thing is just angst. Maybe fluff if you squint?
Written for @spndeanbingo
A/N: I realized that I didn’t upload my fic for my “nightmare” square, and when I looked in my WIPs, I couldn’t find it… why? Because it was in a completely different folder... *facepalm* Anyways, I found it and so… here it is. I hope you like it and please reblog and leave some feedback! Thank you and Happy Reading! xx
Things have been dark lately. Sam has shut himself in, not coming out of his room unless he really has to, Dean had fallen in this terrifying headspace where he would say such nasty things with intent to hurt, or break out into violent tantrums, which usually ended looking like a hurricane had hit. Castiel was gone, and you… you had become jumpy, paranoid, always thinking something was going to show up and get you. It was the end of the world after all, the most terrifying thing right now was surviving, but someone had to try and save the world.
With a tray of food in your hands, you cautiously walked down the hall towards Sam’s room. He hadn’t eaten all day, nor had you seen him exit his bedroom. You were worried. “Sam?” you called out, pressing your ear against his door. You heard no rustling of what so ever. “Sam?” you called again, figuring he had fallen asleep.
Letting out a deep sigh, you balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door to Sam’s room. He always left it unlock in case someone needed him, but no one really tried to disturb him other than you, which he didn’t seem to mind.
The room was dark, and still balancing the tray in one hand, you used the other to feel against the wall in search for the light switch. Victory, you flipped it on, the room coming into view. A sharp gasp left your lips as the tray you’ve been holding clamored on the concrete flooring. Your hands came to your lips at the horrifying sight.
Blood stained the sheets and pooled on the floor. Both of Sam’s arms were slit from his wrist up to the juncture where his arms bent. His skin was ghostly white, and you could just feel the end of life that filled the room. Sam was dead. Sam had given up… Winchesters don’t give up. That’s what he told you when all of this began, but there he lay… a hypocrite to his own words. This couldn’t be right.
Desperately needing to get out, you rushed down the hall to get Dean. You hoped that maybe he could do something. As you turned into the hallway where his bedroom resided, you noticed the door wide open. Rushing in, the only light pouring in being from the hallway, you halted in your stride. Dean was just standing there in the middle of his room, and the whole thing let out an eerie vibe, one that made you uncomfortable and a little anxious.
“D-Dean?” you stuttered in fright, not knowing what to expect.
When he moved, you flinched. Deans eyes were covered by shadows and his body was ridged. “What?” He snapped, the word coming out as a growl.
“S-Sam… h-he—”
“Get on with it!” He shouted, green eyes suddenly piercing at you with something akin to wild fire, like the flames of Maleficent. Goosebumps erupted around your body in complete and utter fear. “What? Stop stuttering and fucking say what you’re trying to say!” Spit flew from his lips and you felt your blood run cold.
“Sam’s dead…” you finally managed to say softly without stuttering.
“That’s what you came here to bother me for? Sam’s fucking dead? I don’t give a flying fuck if he’s dead. Why can’t you be dead too? You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?” Dean growled, stalking towards you. “Ever since this whole end of the world bullshit started, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my hide. A constant itching slowly driving me in-fucking-sane!”
“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, taking a step back, only to collide into the wall.
“Sorry? You think saying you’re sorry is going to make any difference? Castiel is gone! Sam is dead! And all I’m stuck with is you! A pathetic little twig that can’t do anything but cause trouble for the rest of us! So fuck off!”
Your legs gave out and suddenly, a flutter of wings consumed the room and everything went black. When you awoke, you were in a pristine white room, brightly lit with white lights. You’ve seen this place before. You’ve been here before… Heaven?
“Hello Y/N,” a deep familiar rumbling voice was heard behind you. Twirling around at top speed, you saw Castiel standing at the corner. “Are you okay?”
“Cass!” you shouted, jumping out of a bed and running towards him, body crashing into his as you wound your arms around his neck. “We thought you were dead!” you sobbed.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy up here in heaven. Everything is in turmoil, and Michael he… I’m afraid he isn’t strong enough to contain his father in the cage. It’s only a matter of time until God is free. Amara won’t help us, and without her by our side, all the angels, myself included, will not be able to keep the door shut,” he revealed, unraveling your hands from his body and keeping you at arms length.
Castiel’s reasoning for his disappearance had been answered, but it wasn’t what you were expecting. The end of the world was happening on earth with the passage to Purgatory ajar, and with Rowena’s indefinite death, leaving hell’s gates wide open. There didn’t seem to be a win in sight. Heaven was fighting a losing battle, humans were dying left and right on earth, demons, monsters, and human were at an all out war, and any sort of hope you tried to convince yourself of was now nothing but a useless dream.
Everyone that made this far was going to eventually meet their early grave. It was inevitable.
“So it’s over…” your voice cracked. “It’s all over. The angels can’t help us, Amara won’t help us, Sam is dead, Dean has gone crazy, and we’re all just going to die…”
Your legs gave out again, Castiel catching you in time before you actually hit the ground. In a blink, you were back on the bed. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I have to go. They need me at the cage.”
Before you could say anything, he was gone, and you were alone. At that moment, you felt so entirely alone. There were no words to describe how lonely you felt. It was cold, numbing, frightening, frustrating, just overall overwhelming. You didn’t know what to think, how to feel, or how to react to anything. You were lost.
After what felt like hours had passed, you decided to wonder around. A door suddenly appeared in front of you and with little hesitation, you opened it and walked through the threshold. You entered what seemed to be the living room of a two story house, one you’ve never seen before. You could hear voices coming from the next room and followed the noise.
Rounding a corner, you peaked in to see Sam. Your eyes widened, wanting to make yourself known, but you held yourself back when you noticed that he wasn’t alone. At the dining table, waiting for Sam to join them, was his parents, Jessica, Dean, and you. You were coddled up in Dean’s arms, Mary holding John’s hand above the table, and Jessica had leaped from her seat to throw her arms around Sam.
This had to be Sam’s heaven.
You took a step back, only to find yourself hitting something… or rather, someone.
“What are you doing here?” A tone filled with danger hit your eardrums. “You shouldn’t be here,” it grumbled again.
Slowly turning, you saw Adam standing in front of you… no… it was Michael – the glowing blue eyes easily identifiable. He looked exhausted, tattered up, and seemed to be on the verge of death. “I… Cass he…” you could barely find your voice much less form a sentence.
“Castiel brought you here? Why?” the archangel asked.
“I don’t know… to save me, I guess?”
“You guess?” Michael hissed. “Well you don’t belong here, and you most definitely don’t belong meddling with the souls of heaven!” Michael lifted his hands, his thumb and middle finger meeting together. Your eyes widened and before you could make a sound, he snapped his fingers.
The room was dark, save for the light coming in from the wide open door. You scanned the room and noticed that you were back in Dean’s room. Jumping off of his bed, you rushed out of the room, not wanting to anger him again. As you stumbled into the hall, a chill vibrated through your bones, goosebumps once again plaguing your skin.
Carved on the walls were a pattern of four names… Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Y/N. Over and over, your names littered the walls, however, every name was crossed out, save for Dean’s. Was this his way of reminding himself that the three of you were dead and he was the only one left?
Following the markings, you began to hear the sound of light sobbing. As you continued to walk, it only got louder. You found your way to the library, peaking into the room to find Dean sitting at a table, arms folded and face buried in them, surrounded by books and files scattered all over the place.
“Gone. They’re all gone,” he muttered through sobs. “I’m all alone…”
Your heart shattered. Empathizing with him, your eyes began to swell, unable to even begin thinking about how you’d feel if you were completely alone. That everyone you loved was gone and you were the last one standing. It was cripplingly devastating and down right terrifying.
Stepping out from hiding, you called Dean’s name. His sobbing instantly silence and his head lifted from his arms. Slowly, his head turned towards you, and you screamed. He had no eyes, just black holes, like he had been spited by god himself.
“Y/N, you came back…” he spoke, getting out of his seat. You flinched, taking a step back.
“You’re not Dean…” you stumbled backwards. “What did you do?!” You shouted, the feeling of bile rising in your throat.
“Y/N, it’s me.”
“No,” you choked, tears already streaming down your cheeks.
“It’s me, Dean,” he tried to convince you again.
“No!” you screamed, turning to run but slamming against something.
Falling backwards, you winced at the connection. Hovering above you was Dean, but his lips were curved downwards, not seeming to happy with your attempt to run. “Did I say you could leave?” He roared, the entire bunker shaking.
He grabbed your ankle, easily dragging you to who knows where. Despite your resistance, he didn’t seem to have any problem pulling your along. “Please, stop! Don’t!” you pleaded, eyes burning.
Your screams and pleas became more and more frantic once you realized where he was taking you… the dungeon. “I beg of you, please leave me alone!” you cried, but he didn’t stop.
He tossed you in the middle of the demon trap, except it didn’t look like a demon trap… it was something else. A new symbol you’ve never seen before. “Now you’re never going to leave me,” he mumbled.
As he turned to leave, you shouted, running after him, however you couldn’t move. Casting your eyes downwards, standing at the edge of the trap, you realized you couldn’t get out. “Dean!” you called, trying to force yourself out of it. “Dean!”
You began to cry uncontrollably, calling Dean’s name. Everything felt cold and you could suddenly see your breath. Figures came into view and all around you, you saw the faces of all your friends.
Through the mass of familiar faces, Jody made her way towards the front. “He won’t let us leave,” she confessed. “He’s keeping us here,” she added.
“Y/N, you need to help us,” a voice came from behind you. Whipping around, you saw Sam standing in front of you.
“S-Sam? B-but… I—I saw you in heaven.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know whose heaven you saw, but it wasn’t mine. Letting all the information process through your head, you realized the heaven you saw had to have been Mary’s. She was the only person you’ve met. You’ve never known Jess or John, but you did know Mary. She even told you once, that you were part of her family. That one day, you and Dean would be more… but it never happened. You and Dean… there was just too much weight in being together. Too much to lose if you two were together. Love was impossible.
There were chatter coming from somewhere in the room and in the corner of your eye you saw movement. Moving your attention away from Sam and to the noise, you saw the crowd being shoved aside, revealing Kevin.
“He took me. He took me from my mom! God, I hate it here!” Kevin shouted, pain erupting on your right cheek. Your hand instantly cupped the hot area. When you drew your hand away, you saw blood. “Why is he doing this to us?!” Kevin howled.
He was going rabid. A restless soul. And eventually, they all will turn the same way, and you’ll be the only one in the room they can take their wrath out on… you were going to die in here. Dean was going to let you die by the hands of your dead friends.
“Dean!” You screamed, voice high and piercing. “Dean! Please! Let me out! Dean!”
Gasping for air, you shot out of bed, your sheets completely drenched. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest in any second. Seconds later, your bedroom door went flying open, revealing Dean, Sam, and Castiel.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Dean rushed forwards, sitting in front of you as he cupped your cheeks with both hands, wiping away your tears. “Hey, it was just a bad dream. I’m here. We’re here,” Dean stated, his voice instantly soothing you in your shaken state. “You’re okay, Sweetheart. You’re okay,” he looked you straight in the eyes, letting you know that this was really him, and that you were safe.
“Dean,” you croaked, his beautiful emerald eyes peering at you. With that being enough validation that he was actually him, you lunged yourself into his arms.
“Yeah, baby. I’m here.”
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A/N: I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how I feel about this one. But if you like it, please ease my worries and let me know! I would really appreciate any positive feedback. Also, please reblog so that it may reach more readers! Thank you for reading! xx
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Imagine Dean walking in on you sleeping next to Sam after you’ve had a nightmare and getting angry and jealous because of his feelings for you. Only thing is you don’t understand because you’re only friends with Sam. (Part 2)
Read Part 1 here!
“Now” he roared like an angry animal before he slammed the door shut and made you jump in your seat. Sam himself dragged a hand down his face right afterwards, his shoulders already beginning to tense up.
“What...” you breathed out, blinking before you looked back at Sam “What was that?” you whispered as he shook his head with a heavy sigh.
“I- I don't know.” he said in a hoarse whisper although for some reason you got the feeling that was far from the truth; but you couldn't be the one to judge him when you had secrets and lies of your own “But something tells me I'm about to find out.” he too pushed the blankets off his body and got up. And yet, despite your every expectation, you didn't hear the door open seconds later. Instead you were left to face the caring man as he came into your view, kneeling right before you.
“It just...” you almost clenched your jaw, pursing your lips and looking down with eyes that had started to glisten with unshed tears “I don't get it. I don't get him. What's his problem now? Didn't he have a good enough lay to take all the steam off last night and he's taking it out on you- on us now?”
“Sometimes Dean's-” the younger Winchester hesitated, running his fingers through his hair. He noticed the tone in your voice and he certainly could see all the emotions you tried to hide when the words left your lips. He knew, in fact he had always known. But did he speak up about it? No. It wasn't his place to, really, not with you at least. He certainly was always willing to wait when you would be ready to speak up about it. And waiting he did. He shrugged softly “He tends to complicate things a lot more than he should. I don't know what he's really thinking right now. Can suspect but can't besure. I'll talk to him, I promise, and we'll solve everything out.”
“He has no right. Absolutely no right at all.” you mumbled, shaking your head “And yet-” you frowned deeply “And yet he can't keep his damn mouth shut.”
“Yeah, well, you know him. You... know how he is.” it was a weak excuse, he knew it, because he was almost 100% sure why Dean had acted that way and he couldn't agree more with you: he had no right. No right after putting you through so much suffering, sleeping around almost every single night.
“I doubt that anymore.” you sniffled but cleared our throat anyway, fighting back the tears and any bitter feelings.
“We'll see that. You've had some terrible nightmare, you should get some more rest now, you know.” he whispered, tucking a few strands out of your face.
“Nightmare... yeah.” you thought, looking away from him.
“You look like you could use it, I'll make some breakfast for when you're up... if Dean doesn't murder me in the meantime.” he added the last part with a small laugh, feeling an inexplicable sense of victory when it earned a smile from you.
“I could say the same about you, you know.” you said back even more softly, to the point you doubted he heard you “I saw how little sleep you got, Sam. That's not what I wanted when I came looking for your comfort.”
“No it isn't. You said you wanted comfort and that's the way I wanted to give it to you and that is the only thing that matters. In fact, you are the only thing that matters to me.” he placed a hand on your shoulder and the other on top of yours that were resting on your lap “Get some more rest if you can, will you? Here or your room, doesn't- doesn't matter.”
“Here sounds good too.” you whispered with a small smile “I mean, not to take advantage of you and your bed, but damn Winchester I don't think I've ever had a better night's sleep. You might have a hard time getting rid of me, I'm warning you.”
“And who said that's a bad thing?” he couldn't help a smile of his own and even more so he couldn't stop himself from leaning in to kiss your forehead. In fact he doubted he even realized what he was doing before he actually did it. But the relaxed expression on your face along with the small smile that was on your lips didn't make him feel all that bad about it. “Get some more rest, sleep too if you can. I hope we can keep it down and when it's time for breakfast I'll call you. Right when the chocolate chip pancakes are ready.”
“Hmh” you hummed, laying back down with a smile on your lips but eyes still locked with his “You're the best, have I told you that?”
He couldn't help his own smile, much as he felt like someone had stabbed him right in the chest, and he was sure it showed on his expression “...No, no you actually haven't.” he whispered.
You frowned, your smile dropping “Really?” you whispered and he noticed actual surprise on your face, probably laced with sleep and he too realized that you had never thought about it or realized it.
“How could you? You're always only thinking about my brother.” it was a bitter thought that he couldn't fight but it was the truth nonetheless.
“Well, too bad then.” you whispered, your eyes slowly closing “I don't know what I'd do without, Sam. Thank you... for everything.”
Only thing was, he didn't know if he deserved the thanking or not yet.
~*~
Entering the room Sam would have been lying majorly if he said he was surprised by the sight he came face to face with. Dean like some angry caged animal kept pacing around, jaw set and eyes hard on the floor as his eyebrows were pulledinto a deep frown. When he realized he wasn't alone in the room he stopped and looked up to his left to see Sam.
He straightened his back and looked him straight in the eyes, arms crossed right over his chest “Mind telling me what the fuck just happened in there?”
Sam held his gaze only for a couple more seconds, as if challenging him before shaking his head just a bit and walking closer to his brother “Funny how that question can go both ways. Can you please keep it down, though, she needs more sleep and if you're yelling it won't-”
“Why? Wore her out last night or something, Sammy?” his words were dripping with venom but even if he kept his voice tone entirely neutral, he would've still gotten the same reaction out of Sam.
The younger man's eyes widened and his jaw set “You? You get to ask that? After everything you've done all this time? I honestly can't believe you.”
“No, I can't believe you, Sam! I should be the one getting the freakin' answers and instead you're the one trying to- to make me feel bad for acting like a jackass when you- you are the one I found in bed with the woman I--” but he stopped himself when he realized his voice had started to raise significantly as had his anger “Did you sleep with her?” he asked in a low but certainly no less dangerous voice tone.
“You mean the way you've been doing with all those random women?” this once Sam couldn't help his own sarcasm. Only for Dean's glare to harden, so Sam ended up sighing. “I honestly don't know why you're even asking me this Dean, when you know the answer. When you know why you shouldn't even ask in the first place.”
“Then how about you tell me once fucking more about it. Did you or did you not sleep with her, Sam?” his fists were now clenched by his sides and Sam noticed that a few veins were more visible on his neck as he, no wonder, tried to hold himself back.
And despite everything, Sam did speak in a low and calm voice “(Y/n) is my best friend and she has been having a terrible night just before coming to my door to ask for-”
“Did you or did you not sleep with her, Sam?” Dean emphasized on each word, his patience running low as he repeated the question.
“For my help and comfort. Which of course you could hardly be able to know, given the fact that you're gone almost every night and won't-”
“Son of bitch!” this time he did roar, startling Sam who didn't really have time to react because Dean's eyes widened and before the younger Winchester could say anything more he had grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him on the wall, glaring hard up at him in a way it made Sam's skin crawl. He wasn't scared, no, he could never be. He didn't expect Dean was going to punch him for it all but even if he did, it wasn't what was going to scare him. He only had the heart and mind to think about all the pain the older Winchester had put you through and that was enough for him. “Did you sleep with her Sam?!”
“And what will you do if I say I did, Dean? Huh what are you going to do about it? What are you even going to say? After spending countless nights with random chicks do you think you have the right to speak?!” he knew he shouldn't bechallenging him but to hell with it. He had been so used to controlling his emotions, thinking first before acting and certainly never acting straight on them the way Dean usually would but after the previous night... after seeing all those tears on your face, an image which he was sure was going to be burned in the back of his head for probably the rest of his life, he could not hold back. He couldn't hold back when his idiot of a brother had so much, when he had more than Sam could ever dare dream for, and still decided to act like a total clueless asshole and hurt you when all you kept giving him was true and unconditional love.
He almost heard Dean's breath hitch in his throat and certainly felt the small ache in his back when his brother pushedhim hard against the wall. He almost winced but he held it back, looking at his brother straight in the eyes.
“You knew how I feel about her.” Dean's voice was low and dangerous, trying to hide mostly how hurt he was but Sam could see it in his brother's eyes. And it was true, because Sam did know all along how Dean felt just as well as he knew how he felt for you. The difference was that given everything Dean did, he had began to have too many doubts. “You knew. You knew how I-” he stopped himself, pursing his lips as he looked at his brothers with all kinds of emotions flashing through his eyes “You knew, Sam, and yet you didn't give a damn and-”
“Damn it, Dean, I didn't sleep with her!” this time he growled himself, thinking he said the words too fast for his brother to comprehend but when Dean's firm grip loosened he realized he had caught every single one of it.
“Wh-what?” for a moment his features softened and Sam, for all that it was worth, felt bad for him because in the end he felt like he saw himself staring back at him. A person that would always put you before everybody else and that was scared he'd lose you to somebody else. In that moment both Sam and Dean felt exactly that way.
“She had a nightmare. She-” he huffed, hating that he felt sorry for his brother instead of being mad for being the one who had hurt you “She had a terrible nightmare and needed someone to comfort her. I'm- I'm like... her brother.”
“Sam I swear to you, if you're lying-” Dean still growled, eyes burning but Sam was fast to shake his head.
“I'm not, ok? I'm not. If you'd let me explain but just keep your voice down, she needs the rest. She's barely slept four hours in total.” Sam muttered and despite his doubts, with a clenched jaw, Dean let go of his brother even though he gave him a push that was a bit more rough than necessary.
“In your bed.” he gritted out.
“While you'd have prefered it was yours, I know and I get it. Too bad that you just weren't there, much like every other night, huh Dean?” he ignored the glare he got from his brother “She told me she had a nightmare about the case we took up four days ago. And she told me she saw the kid she couldn't save. She said she couldn't go back to sleep and frankly it doesn't surprise me because she could barely breathe because of the sobs, let alone calm down so much as fall asleep on her own.”
“'S that supposed to be an excuse for everything I saw in there? Cause I think that'd be only for half of it! You two were cuddling like- like lovebirds or something like that. Didn't look like a brother or best friend comforting her in there. In fact I highly doubt-”
“Hurts, doesn't it?” Sam couldn't stop the words from coming from his lips, too bitterly perhaps but he didn't regret it. Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother and frowned. “Doubt. It must hurt, to doubt if the person you are in love with really feels the same for you or not. It must hurt to doubt if the person you are in love with you feels that for you and not somebody else. It must hurt to doubt and be let down every night when they are- when you know they are with somebody else, in another's bed, and not with you. It must hurt to know all can be lost any given moment. It must hurt to-- You know what?” Sam shook his head, tearing his watery eyes from his brother.
He finally added “It hurts me too. It hurts me to doubt if the comfort I offer is enough... if it is enough compared to yours. She... Uhm she said it was because of the nightmare and I don't doubt it but I also know it wasn't only because of that. Those kind of tears couldn't be because of that. I know that it's also because of you, because you weren't there for her once more Dean and because you were with- I don't even know who this time. And for that I don't feel guilty for giving her the comfort she needed, the way I've always done when you were too busy to know.”
“Sam what are you-” his chest was moving as he struggled to take deep breaths, his mind struggling to grasp what was being said. He was past the rage and jealousy now. Things were more serious.
“She's had plenty of doubting, Dean, and she's had plenty of pain... as have I. So if you plan on being a jerk, go ahead, but don't drag her into this. Don't put her through this. Because it's finally time she was sure of one thing in her life and I'm sorry to say it but... it doesn't look like it's going to be you.”
“Then who?” it was said in a gruff voice, completely serious as the two men didn't break eye-contact “You?”
“I guess... we'll have to wait and see, don't we?”
And as Sam walked past him, nearly bumping shoulders, Dean didn't have a doubt that what had happened the previous night was nothing more than a friend comforting another. It was what would follow that he had doubts about.
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La Pomme ~ Chapter Six
Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)
Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?
Word Count: 6,200
Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.
A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.
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Approximately three hours of arguing with herself about staying away from them later, George went to see if Jack and Sam had returned yet. She reasoned that, at this point, they'd been so adamant about her coming that staying away altogether would probably raise a larger red flag than if she just made a quick appearance.
That's not true! I'm just going so that they don't come looking for me. This is definitely the last time. Once I get the kid set up on the games, he'll forget I exist. Then I can slip back to my as-yet-undiscovered-room and wait quietly for Rowena to return and return me home. Everything will be fine. This has nothing to do with the beard.
I have to go to keep seeming uninteresting and innocuous, She reasoned with herself, though she knew it was dangerous. It was also not the real reason she was going.
There was no part of her that believed any of that. Especially as her heart fluttered at the thought of bearded Sam in that tight, gray deep v-neck.
First, she stopped in the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. Then she went to check Jack's room. As she walked up to the open door, she heard the two men talking.
"I don't understand why you don't want to tell me what happened." She heard Jack say.
Sam's annoyed huff made her pause, "I did tell you; nothing happened. She passed out exhausted and I didn't know where else to put her. There are so many new people here right now, I don't know what's an empty bed and what's not."
"OK…" She heard Jack's doubtful reply and then a pause before asking, "If Brent had passed out in your arms, would you have carried him to your bed?"
George grinned devilishly at the implication of the question, covering her mouth with her hand to stay quiet. There was a long, intriguing silence before Sam ordered defensively, "Shut up."
George decided to take that as her cue. She stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat, "'Shut up,' huh? Interesting parenting philosophy." She smirked as Sam started a bit and looked over at her. Presumably, he was wondering how much of that conversation she'd heard, and she felt in no hurry to fill him in.
Jack smiled at her and pointed to a surprising amount of booty on his bed and the floor in front of it, "George! They had everything on your list! Oh, except Mario 64."
Looks like the shoe's on the other foot, She thought smugly.
"Wow, really?" Her eyes went wide when she saw the small flat screen TV box leaning against the footboard and she looked at Sam with a surprised chuckle. She guessed Sam really wanted to keep Jack occupied. "And you bought it all, I see, awesome! Did you want some help setting up?"
"Yea, come in!" Jack nodded enthusiastically, waving her in, and then began unpacking his loot. George hesitated for a second as Sam watched Jack lay out all the equipment to start getting it set up.
Bitch, I don't know why you're taking pause now! You brought the damn beer. You planned this; just go in already.
With a quick, annoyed shake of her head to quiet the smug voices, she finally stepped into the room.
When she got close to him, Sam smiled, "Hey."
"Hi," George returned his smile nervously. "I don't remember that being on my list," Sam followed her gaze to the flat screen and then squirmed a bit, guiltily. Motioning to the rest of the stuff, she asked with a chuckle, "Feeling a little bit of dad guilt over something?"
Sam feigned ignorance, "Hmm?"
"I mean, OK, you needed the system and some games but…" Her eyes ran over the huge pile of game cartridges on the bed, wide with judgement. "And the TV? Kinda screams single-divorced-dad overcompensation. And I speak from experience."
"Oh, are you a divorced single dad, too?" Sam joked.
George snorted and corrected, "Raised by one… well, on Wednesdays and every other weekend. And he worked weekends… and most Wednesdays, so…" She trailed off with a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug and Sam nodded, understanding the semi-absent dad thing.
"I can definitely relate to the unavailable father," Sam's tone was serious but there was a smile on his face.
George stared at him curiously for a minute, Supernatural episodes flashing in her mind, and then nodded, "Oh, yeah, I guess you can." She was still getting used to television characters being real people. When he furrowed his brow curiously at her, she quickly said, "Anyway, yea, uh-expensive presents helped ease my dad's guilt about not really being there. That's how I got most of my video game experience." Just as he opened his mouth to respond, she held out a beer with a questioning look and said, "I think I owe you one or two of these? Although, seeing as this one is also from your fridge, think of this as more of a symbolic gesture. Since I can't actually repay you."
He chuckled and took the beer with a soft, "Thank you. And, no repayment needed. Trust me, we're just happy to be able to help. All of you." He was referring to the people from the camp again and she grimaced as a twinge of guilt zapped through her. Lying to him made her feel awful.
While it seemed like Jack was focused on unboxing the TV and not paying much attention to them, she held up the other beer and asked quietly, "Can he? I wasn't sure if you let him, but I brought it just in case."
Sam frowned a little and shrugged, "My brother lets him and I… choose my battles," he finished with a sigh. George smiled and nodded understandingly.
Seeing Jack was still preoccupied, she shrugged after a moment and offered, "Well, I don't normally drink beer but I can just say it's mine? He may not even ask for one."
Sam nodded appreciatively, snapping the bottle cap off his and tossing it into the garbage can in the corner. As she watched him raise the cold bottle to his lips, she couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous, newly bearded face. As he took a swig, her mouth went dry. Luckily, she was able to look away just before he caught her staring and she mentally kicked herself.
He raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed she didn't join him. Setting his drink down on the desk next to him, he reached out to take the unopened beer from her. "Ya know, it's more believable that you're drinking it, if it's actually open?"
"Oh, right," She let out a 'heh' of embarrassment as he popped the cap off and tossed it into the can as well. Taking it back from him, she admitted, "Like I said, not a big beer drinker."
With a teasing expression, he said, "Hmm… but really anything you drink out of a bottle has to be opened first, right?"
She blushed and smirked at his ribbing. Forcing herself not to laugh with all her might-made more difficult by the fact that she could see him trying not to smirk-she simply said, "Well, like I said, I was a latchkey kid. I typically drink strictly from the garden hose."
Jack finally looked over at them, finished plugging the TV in, and called to her, "George, come check the games!"
She grinned at the small "HA!" he let out at her joke. With a small, mental shrug, she lifted the beer and took a swig.
Fuck it, maybe it'll help calm my nerves. She then heard a smug sing-songy voice say, famous last words.
She walked over and looked at the cartridges that were laid out on his bed, "Nice! Oh, no way! Perfect Dark?!" She picked up the game and clutched it excitedly, "I totally forgot about this one!"
"Yea, I picked up a couple extras that weren't on the list. I hope that's OK, they just looked interesting," Jack said nervously.
"Of course it's OK! You might end up hating my game suggestions-not that that's possible because I have the best taste, obviously, but still. I'm glad you have a few to try on your own." Her grin increased as she looked at the game in her hand again, getting lost down memory lane for a moment. This game had gotten her through some rough patches.
She set it down and glanced over the few that were unfamiliar to her. "These ones I've never played before, so that'll be great. You'll get to actually figure out a few on your own."
"Will it be hard?" He wondered.
"Probably. And you'll most likely get so frustrated that you'll want to tear your hair out and throw the console against a wall. But, it'll be so freaking fun you can't stop. As Charles Dickens said, 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times'."
Sam laughed, picking his beer back up and taking another drink. George couldn't help but grin, drinking hers as well.
Damn if I'm not addicted to that sound.
While Jack was trying to get the console set up, he struggled to hook the system up to the small flat screen he'd placed on his dresser. George came over to help. After a moment, she identified the problem.
Holding up the console's composite cable she huffed, "This TV doesn't have RCA ports!"
"What?!" Sam 'pffted,' coming over to check it, running his hands along the back. When he found nothing, he stood back and put his hands on his hips, "Are you saying we're actually going to have to use our crappy old TVs for this?" He shook his head in disbelief.
George shrugged, "Eh, at least it gives him an authentic experience?"
A short while later they had the system set up on an old tube set and the three of them were playing a few rounds of Mario Kart 64. Jack was sitting cross legged on the edge of his bed. On the floor to his left was Sam, slouching against the bed with his legs stretched out long in front of him. George was to his right, with her knees bent and her feet planted on the ground, sitting straighter upright but also leaning against the bed.
In terms of play, all three were taking it serious. George was a little rusty but her muscle memory helped her quickly grab and keep first place almost every round. Jack was picking it up surprisingly quick but struggled with the strategic aspect of trap setting and disabling opponents. Sam needed a lap to get used to the buttons, but was now smoking Jack and catching up to George with ease.
At the moment they were in the middle of the second lap of their fourth round. Surprising everyone except George and Sam (because they threw it), Jack had won the first round and was very proud of himself. Unfortunately for Jack, he got a little too proud of himself. Her competitive side had roared to life at his boisterous celebration and the boys ate George's dust on the second and third rounds.
Sober George would have known better than to agree to another round. She would never admit it, but Sam had been hot on her tail the entire last round; he'd definitely be able to beat her by the next one. Unfortunately for her, she'd already finished her second beer and was feeling real cocky when they'd both demanded another round of her.
She had warned dramatically, "Alright, but if you're gonna take a shot at the Queen, you better not miss."
George was fairly far out in front and feeling great, when Sam's Peach shot a red shell at her Yoshi and she wasn't able to avoid it. As her Yoshi tumbled, George watched Peach fly past her into first place, a string of inventive curses flew out of her mouth, explaining in detail exactly where she thought Sam could put his red shells. He couldn't help but give her a quick, amused 'wtf' expression at her colorful vocabulary but she was too busy mashing her buttons to get back in gear again.
Just as she was gaining back on him, she gasped when Yoshi flipped over again. Another red shell.
"The FU-JACK!?" Her jaw dropped at Jack, whose Mario drove by and was now in second place. George let out a frustrated screech as the two men high fived each other over Sam's shoulder.
"Looks like we didn't miss, your royal highness," Sam teased, then dodged a kick to the shin with an evil laugh.
When Yoshi was upright and ready to go again, she pressed the A button down so hard her finger turned white. Pulling out all the stops to try and catch up to them again, she finally hit a mystery box. It took all her might to refrain from jumping for joy when three red shells appeared around her kart. Neither Jack nor Sam had noticed. Falsely confident that they'd disabled her, they'd devolved from their joint effort to take her down and were now going against each other. Jack lucked into hitting Sam with a tossed banana peel but Sam was able to out maneuver him on the next few turns and had scooted ahead again already.
George continued to gain on them, using her memory of the course to cut every corner she could and climb her way back up to third place. Sam and Jack were neck and neck, nearing the finish line on the final lap, and smack talking each other. They were barely paying attention to her and she waited for just the right time, before mashing her trigger button. Her red shells launched rapid fire. She watched with glee as Peach and Mario flipped over and stalled mere feet from the finish line.
As Yoshi sailed past them both and crossed in first place, George leapt up from her spot on the floor in triumph, "YES!" Sam and Jack flinched in pain; they were pretty sure everyone in the bunker had heard that.
"Tried to take me out, huh?" She asked Sam, then turned to Jack, "Didn't think I could get back up, did you? How ya like me now?" They were both trying to hide their annoyed grins and she continued, "You want to know why I always play Yoshi? Because he ain't a BITCH, and Neither. Am. I." She mic-dropped her controller onto the bed and did a victory dance in place. "Both. Of. Y'all. Can. SUuuUUuuUUuck. IiiiiIIiIIiiiIIiiit!" She sang joyfully, punching her arms into the air.
"Suck what?" Jack mumbled at Sam in exasperation, bummed that he'd lost again.
"Er-Nothing. It's just a saying, don't worry about it," The other man assured with a nervous throat clearing.
George quickly stepped over Sam's outstretched legs to the open space at the foot of Jack's bed. Jutting out her hip and placing a firm hand on it, she promptly began cat walking back and forth while singing, "Walk, walk, fashion baby. Work it. Move. That Bitch cuh-ray-zee." Jack was far more annoyed at losing than Sam, but they were both incredibly amused at her flamboyant, over-the-top reaction.
Sam watched her display with a smile and, after a moment, commented, "OK, Cindy Crawford, I'm cutting you off."
Pausing her catwalking to victory dance in front of him, she then lobbed, "And why? Don't like having your ass handed to you by a drunk woman?"
"You LUCKED out with all those red shells, George!" Jack argued defiantly.
"Now, now, Jack. Don't be a sore loser," George admonished jokingly, still wiggling her hips in delight.
"Yea, you're clearly only allowed to be a sore winner around here," Sam said pointedly with a chuckle. When George froze mid victory dance, her butt no longer bouncing in front of him, Sam regretted saying anything.
She scrunched her nose at him in offense, holding her hands up in surrender, "OK, fine. Yes. If it hadn't been for those red shells I would have been in third place."
Sam gave her a smug grin and said, "That's right."
She continued sweetly, "And obviously Jack would have won." A triumphant smile spread on Jack's face and he nodded his head in gracious acceptance of her determination.
"Thank you, yes-wait, what?" Sam started to agree with her and then it registered what she'd actually said. He did a double take. She knew darn well Sam would have won that round, but the smirk on her face told him she'd never admit it. Curiously, he was as turned on as he was infuriated.
Then, George added, "But the entire game is luck, dude! Most video games are. If you can't handle this, I would stay away from Mario Party," She warned in a serious tone.
Jack and Sam exchanged a serious look, then looked back at George. They had the same determined expression and Jack said, "Let's do it," while Sam nodded in agreement. He was having fun for the first time in weeks.
Maybe months, he thought grimly. He also hoped she'd say yes so he could do everything in his power to make her win and score another full frontal victory dance.
George laughed a little and nodded, "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's fun as hell, but no one wins at Mario Party. No. One," She finished ominously.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom before we keep going," Jack got up and headed for the door. He turned back with a thoughtful look on his face and said, "I might go to the kitchen for some snacks, too. Do you want anything?"
George shrugged, "Well, here's the situation Jack: I'm gonna say no but I will most likely steal some of whatever you bring back. So, I would say just accommodate for that and you should be golden."
Sam chuckled and said out of the corner of his mouth, "There's a life lesson in women if I've ever heard one." He avoided acknowledging the dirty look she shot him and shook his head at Jack, "Nothing for me, thanks."
After Jack left, George gave Sam a suspicious look and teased, "No more beer? Hmm, I see what you're doing."
Sam gave her a 'feigned innocence' expression and murmured, "Hmm?"
"You can stop drinking all you want; I can beat you, sober or not," Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a mean mug.
He chuckled, but said, "Truthfully, asking Jack to bring me a beer felt a little-"
"Alcoholic single dad?" George finished with a laugh and he joined her, nodding in agreement.
"Right," Sam pointed a quick finger in the air. "Not a great look," He said, standing up with a groan. "Yikes, shouldn't have been slouching like that. The older I get the less forgiving my back is."
"Have you ever tried a massage?" She asked, almost absentmindedly as she was distracted by him. His full height always took her breath away at first; she loved it.
Sam considered her question for a moment. Looking her over appreciatively, he asked with a teasingly incredulous tone, "No. Why, are you offering?"
That snapped George out of her stupor and she blinked rapidly. Thinking she hadn't heard him correctly, she asked "Oh, what? Oh, no! Er-I-I mean, I just, I wouldn't know where to begin. What? No, I mean I wouldn't know what I was doing. Not-no, I know what I'm doing I just-I'm not a professional. I-" Stop talking. Stop talking, now! George felt a bit warm and started fanning herself, "Hoo d'awgy, is it hot in here or just me? Maybe you should cut me off," She finished with a nervous laughter.
He had watched her nervous, adorable rambling gleefully, chuckling once or twice. Whenever he was near her, an eerie pressure would build in his chest that was reminiscent of feelings he'd thought were long since lost to him. He realized it was that feeling that spurred him on to be so flirtatious. At her last statement though, he reigned himself in and answered her question more earnestly to help break the tension and give her a chance to calm down, "I'm not so big on strangers touching me. And I worry about how sanitary those places are," he finished with an exaggerated shudder.
It had been kind of him to cut her a break, but when he started stretching out the kinks from his prolonged seat on the floor, any chance she had of calming down disappeared. She couldn't help but admire his physique. Her eyes trailed his body once over but then quickly settled back on his beard. She could kill the show producers for not letting him be bearded sooner than Season 14. 'Smoldering' didn't even begin to cover it.
She hadn't realized that she'd gotten lost in thought about those sexy whiskers until she heard his throat clearing. Widening in horror, her eyes quickly met his, which looked half amused, half curious.
With a lick of his lips, which made George's brows furrow with desire, he asked gently, "Is there something on my face?"
"No!" Gulping, she blushed from head to toe. After thinking about it for a split second, she heard a buzzed voice in her head say fuck it, you've already embarrassed yourself. Tilting her head to the side, she boldly proclaimed, "Well, actually…Yeah!" A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she tried to figure out how to say this without giving anything away. In her inebriated state, she finally settled on, "The last time I saw you, your face was less… Hagrid?"
Sam let out a loud laugh, a look of mock offense on his face. She covered her mouth as she snickered, realizing maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to say.
"Oh, wow! Hagrid, huh? I… Well, I'm not sure how to take that. Maybe I should go shave real quick," He teased sadly, rubbing a slow hand over his beard. It made her weak kneed.
"No! Please don't! I'm sorry," She leaned forward and gently squeezed his forearm with both her hands, then let go. "I was just trying to make you laugh! And I couldn't think of an attractive bearded man reference fast enough; Hagrid was the next best thing."
"Nah, you're right. Hagrid was good; you had to do it," He shrugged in acceptance. Squinting at her curiously, he asked, "But, just to clarify, you don't think I look like Hagrid, right?"
She snorted and then looked unsure. As she spoke she slowly craned her neck up, "Well, now that you mention it, he was half-giant!" Another laugh escaped him and she bit her lip to keep from grinning. The sound mixed with the beer was lowering her inhibitions a bit and she ran her eyes over him quickly in appreciation. Before she could stop herself, she assured him, "Seriously, though. The beard looks good. You look…" All the descriptions she could think of were too inappropriate even for her less inhibited state. Finally, she breathed, her eyes wide for emphasis, "good."
Sam gave her a shy, sexy smile and he looked down at the ground for a minute. She could swear the skin of his cheeks near the top of his beard was slightly pink.
Was he hiding a blush behind all that rugged? George wondered, watching him closely. Her stomach was nearly painfully tingling with nausea; she knew she should stop but fuck, when was she ever going to get this opportunity again?
Sam looked back up at her, the look in his eyes making her gulp, and asked with a questioning shrug, "'Good,' huh?"
George could tell he was baiting her but unfortunately her rational side was beating her horny/ buzzed side back with a stick, trying to keep control. So, she simply nodded and gave him a flirty smile, confirming, "Yes. Good." The word came out as a painful purr that caused Sam's eyes to darken curiously. George unconsciously licked her lips; it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
"Hmm," was the noise that broke the silence finally, rumbling heavily from Sam's chest. He was feeling very conflicted. For one, the alcohol was obviously affecting her and he wasn't trying to take advantage. But also, she was causing him to feel a lot of intense and strange feelings, feelings that hadn't been stirred up in years, and he couldn't explain why. He'd just met her! Knew almost nothing about her, yet he was flirting with her left, right, and center like he was… well, Dean! It felt so comfortable around her; he felt a calming sense of ease, as though his life wasn't a giant crapshoot of terrible day in and day out. That feeling should have been foreign to him but it wasn't completely. That's what terrified and confused him.
They'd been staring intensely at each other. George thought it seemed like he was holding himself back; she recognized the look and assumed it was the same one on her face right now. Running a suddenly nervous hand through his hair, he huffed a little and smiled.
"Well… thank you," His tone sounded as sincere as it did nervous. "I-"
Just then Jack came back and broke the tension in the room. George released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned to look at him. Balancing in his arms were two packs of red vines, one large bag of peanut M&Ms, six beef jerky sticks, two 'sharin' size' bags of Cheetos, and four Yoohoos.
The intensity of the previous moment paired with the absurd amount of food made her exclaim, "Dude!" The laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it; she got near tears. Sam joined her with distinct but far less intense chuckles at Jack's attempts to interpret George's earlier instructions.
"What?" Jack asked curiously, "You asked me to account for you wanting some! I figured it was more efficient to just bring you your own."
"Ah, yes, a classic mistake, Jack. Half the fun is eating the other person's food," Sam teased.
George shook her head and sighed out the last of her laughter, "Oh, man. That was great. OK, I have to pee and then we'll have a talk about appropriate food portions before the game. Also, the fact that you brought peanut M&Ms and not caramel is near criminal."
Sam followed her out the door, saying, "I think I've changed my mind on that beer. I'll be right back, too."
"Grab me one?" She requested over her shoulder and he nodded affirmatively.
On her way back to Jack's room, George was wringing her hands nervously. Her mind was racing; she'd barely been able to concentrate on peeing! There was a heated debate going on in her head about what the hell she thought she was doing. A very large, very selfish part of her had not wanted to hold herself back. But she was skating on thin ice. Thin? Try imaginary! You seriously believe Sam Winchester is flirting with you? You have lost your damn mind. You look like a bumbling moron to him. A total Becky! Not to mention, he's a 10 and you're an Idaho six, if we're being generous.
The unnecessarily hurtful arguing in her head silenced instantly when she rounded the corner and found Sam in the hallway, sans beer. He was nervously pacing about 6 feet from Jack's room. She gulped; he looked agitated all of a sudden. Was he about to give her a talk about being inappropriate and how they should just "be friends?" She heard a voice sing-song in her head: I told you so, six.
Forcing herself to move forward once again, she tried to steal herself for the blow. To her surprise, his expression shifted to regret when he noticed her finally.
"Hey," He started, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but-" he held up his phone with a grimace.
"You have a hunt," George finished slowly with an understanding-and incredibly relieved-head nod. She watched Sam glance back at Jack's room with sad eyes. It clicked after a moment and she added with a less understanding tone, "And you want me to keep Jack distracted while you go?"
Sam gave her an adorable, pleading face, "Yes, please? I already broke the news to him and he's… upset about not being able to come."
George frowned, "Dude, are you seriously leaving me here by myself to entertain him? Sam!" She stomped her foot quietly, mock upset, "I don't know anything about what young adults are into these days. SnapChat? Four Loco? Miley Cyrus?!"
"Hey, look at this as an opportunity to finally play those real deep cuts from Avril," Sam joked back and George punched his arm gently; both laughed.
"OK, but really, do you have any tips for how to handle a teenage boy who's pissed because he can't go kill things?" She looked nervously toward Jack's room. "How do I cheer him up?"
"Well, I think we both know what you're going to have to do," Sam said with a deep, apologetic sigh. George raised an eyebrow curiously. Sam raised both of his and widened his eyes with a pointed head tilt in response. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she began to see where he was going with this and his head started nodding slowly.
"No," George said matter of factly, starting to shake her head. "No!"
"Look, I know it's not ideal, but-"
"I refuse!" She dug her heels in and her arms crossed over her chest.
"Now, now," He began in the same tone you would use to speak to a toddler. "You asked how to make him happy."
"I am not going to debase myself like that, Sam. No!"
"Listen, I know it's hard! But you've done it once already! Was it really tha-"
"Horrible! You of all people should understand why this is a terrible thing to ask! You had to do it once, too!" She uncrossed her arms and pointed at him, demanding, "Look me in the eye and tell me a little piece of your soul didn't die the last time?"
"Oh it wasn't that bad," Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.
"That's easy for you to say, Sam! You're bad at it! But, I have a reputation to protect!"
"OK, Kinicki, well if you want Jack to have fun, you're going to have to suck it up and let him win at Mario Kart!" When she huffed, shaking her head in continued defiance, he rolled his eyes and offered a compromise, "Every once in a while!"
After a few moments of mean mugging each other, neither one willing to give in, they both just started laughing. Once their laughter died down, he gave her a serious, apologetic expression and said, "Georgia, I really am sorry to do this… I was having fun."
As he used her full name, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. With a gentle shake of her head, she waved him off, "Don't be sorry; you have to go. And truly, I don't mind. Jack's actually a pretty cool kid…" She trailed off and then furrowed her brow in mock concern, "or am I a lame adult?"
He chucked, then shrugged and said, "Well, if you are then I am."
"Good thing Dean didn't hear you say that," She joked, shooting a finger gun at him. The look on his face in response was indiscernible and she kicked herself. "Shit, sorry. That was insensitive. With Michael and everything, I-I didn'-"
Sam waved his hand in the air and cut her off, "Nah, I know you didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking how accurate the statement was, yet… you haven't met Dean, right?"
Her eyebrows went up in sobered surprise. Shit. She gulped and stuttered out, "Oh-right-no, that's right. I haven't… I-I just, uh, I know what it's like to have a big brother! He's-he is your big brother, right? I mean, I think I've heard Jack or someone say that…" Sam's brows furrowed further, looking at her curiously and nodding slowly in confirmation. "Right, well, yea. I just-I figured since Dean was your big brother, he'd relish the opportunity to make a comment about you being a loser. I know my brother certainly lived for it." She felt like he could tell she was sweating and it made her sweat more.
"Uh huh," Sam said with a slow drawl, not entirely convinced.
As George watched him she became less nervous, realizing that there was a lot of pain behind his bright hazel eyes. It was obvious that he was really worried about his brother; her heart twinged in empathy.
Without thinking, she placed a hand on his forearm and gripped tightly. With a comforting smile she promised, "Don't worry, Sam. You'll find Dean soon."
Sam felt as if the wind knocked out of his lungs as an intense burst of deja vu hit him. It couldn't be… that had been a dream. A fake dream at that! All part of the trickster's mind games trying to get him to give up on saving Dean. Obviously, there was no way this was the same woman. Yet he knew he'd heard that consolation before. From her, he felt sure. But how would he have dreamt about a woman from an alternate reality?
She jumped when she heard someone shout from down the hall, "Sam!"
George was panicking internally. He'd flinched at her words and the look on his face made her sick to her stomach. She let go of his arm quickly. Had she gone too far? Had she offended him? Was he just disgusted at being touched by her? A million thoughts raced through her mind as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
Sam snapped out of his stupor and furrowed his brow a bit. "COMING!" He boomed in their direction and then looked back at her in apology. Though he still seemed perturbed by something.
George smiled understandably, eternally grateful for the interruption, and began before he could say anything, "You have to go! I'll keep an eye on Jack for a while longer. But I swear to God if he starts trying to talk to me about Fortnite or TikTok or FOOTBALL: I'm. Out."
Sam had moved around her, slowly starting to head for the map room, "Football?"
"I just really hate sports," She deadpanned with a shrug, turning her body around to follow him.
He chucked and nodded, "Ah. Noted." He bowed to her slightly as he backed away, "Well, Thank you again. I owe you a beer now… or maybe a massage?" He offered innocently, adding, "I may not be a professional, but I definitely know what I'm doing." He watched just long enough to see her jaw drop, then with a wink, he turned and left.
When she'd mopped herself up from the floor and had finally started breathing again, George looked up to the ceiling and begged, "I have thirty five thousand dollars in savings and retirement and it's all yours for a copy!"
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Stark Spangled Banner Ch8: Old Friends, Not So New Tricks
Summary: When a familiar face turns up asking for Katie’s expertise she finds herself confronted by another familiar face, this one being one she would rather forget...
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Bit of bad language in this one, nothing mega. Bit of blood… and the return of an old favourite.
Flashbacks depicted in italics. Oh and MAJOR SPOILER ALERT IF YOU AINT SEEN AGENTS OF SHIELD!!
Note- I read a fic on here not long ago that used Trapt-Only One in Color as a song. It happens to be my fave and was also my wedding song, so I’ve used it here too.
November 2013
There’s a fine line between success and failure. And that last mission had well and truly teetered its way along the edge. The team had been split up after a catastrophic coms failure leaving Katie and Evans badly compromised. They had just about got the situation under control after some quick thinking from Katie and very sharp shooting from Evans, when Steve had broken every protocol in place and had basically run head first into a gun fire to get them out, putting himself in danger and Katie was livid at him.
“We had it under control!” she said, her voice raised as she stormed through the corridor away from the hangar, people turning to look. They’d been arguing about it all the way home.
“Yeah, it didn’t look like it from where I was standing…”
“Damned it Steve…” she spun to face him, “You weren’t standing anywhere, you were running, head first into the crossfire without even thinking about what was going on…”
“The last thing I heard was that you were surrounded…”
“This is EXACTLY what I don’t want you to do!” she said, groaning as she ran her hands over her face “Run in there without a second thought for your own damned safety or anyone else’s…”
“What do you mean anyone else?” his nostrils flared.
“You left Rumlow and Rollins completely uncovered!” she shook her head “To come and save me…I’m not a fucking princess that needs rescuing Steve…”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” his voice was loud now.
“I’ll talk to you how I want!” she snapped “You know everyone gossips enough about us as it is and we’re almost 7 months down the fucking line…”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“And yet you STILL give them fuel!” she threw her hands out to the side, bringing them back down to her combat outfit clad sides with a slap “Oh look at Nova, needs her Super Soldier Boyfriend to bail her out…”
“For the last time…” he began but she completely ignored him.
“If you can’t remain objective when we work together then maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t if that’s how you feel!” He practically snarled, as he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders back as his hands dropped to his belt buckle, eyes blazing.
“Glad we understand one another” Katie spat back, before turning on her heel and heading towards the armoury to change, ignoring his shouts.
****
After debrief, for the first time in ages Steve left work alone. He was in a foul mood, and practically wrenched his apartment door off its hinges. In part his bad mood was down to Katie’s attitude, but in others it was at himself because deep down he knew she was right. He’d lost it when he’d heard she was in trouble and hadn’t been able to do anything else but rush in there to make sure she was ok. It was ridiculous, she was a trained agent with a shot on her like you wouldn’t believe, and the amount of times they’d been in bad situations before…but something today, something about the way she’d sounded on the radio had gotten to him and he’d abandoned all thoughts of professionalism and gone after his girl.
Sighing he threw his keys down on the kitchen side and grabbed a beer from the fridge before making his way into the living room, kicking off his shoes. He dropped onto the sofa and let out a loud moan of frustration, his head lolling back against the cushions. He hated that they’d rowed, this was the first big one they’d actually had. Sure they quibbled about small things, the fact he made her sleep on the right hand side of the bed at his because it was furthest away from the door (just in case anyone got in) the way he was a bit of a neat freak and when she did stay for more than a night his apartment looked like a whirlwind had been through it (Ok, he didn’t actually mind that so much in truth) the way she tried on every fucking outfit she owned before they went out (maybe not every outfit, but close enough…) the way he often went for a run first thing in the morning and she’d get pissed he wasn’t there when she woke up because…well, because….but all that was stuff he adored. The normal part of being with someone you were comfortable sharing your life with.
As he took a pull from his bottle his eyes rolled to the right and fell on the large photo frame on his wall. It was one she had made him for his birthday.
“Open the big one first…” she instructed, nodding to the gifts that were piled on his sofa.
He did as he was told without saying a word, picking it up and resting it on his lap. It felt like a large photo frame. As he peeled back the wrapping paper he realised that’s exactly what it was. It was large, glossy pine edges to match the furniture in his apartment, filled with photos of him all from his life before the ice and his eyes grew large as he took in the faces that looked back up at him. There was a photo of him and Bucky as kids, another as teenagers, then one of them in the army- the one of them laughing that Katie had said she loved. His eyes began to mist over as he saw a few shots of his parents, at their wedding in Ireland, on the steps of their flat at Brooklyn, one of him and his mom when he was a small boy, then he spotted one of him and Howard along with various shots of him with the Howling Commandos and finally one of him, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy. And at the bottom of the frame, on a silver plaque was engraved a quote from the Wizard of Oz- ”A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”
“I thought it was a shame to just keep them in a box…” Katie said gently as she sat next to him “I wanted you to see them every day and remember you meant as much to them as they did or do to you…”
His fingers trailed over the various faces in the frame as the memories flooded his brain and he felt a lump in his throat at the wave of nostalgia crossing over him, and also at the utter thoughtfulness that had gone into her gift..
“I picked what I thought were the nicest ones…” she continued and he was aware her tone was growing nervous. “But we can swap them if…”
“Katie…” his voice was croaky as he cut her off and looked up at her. He was right, she was biting her lip, worried that she had upset him but nothing could be further from the truth. He moved to take her face in his hands and he kissed her, hard. He pulled away and looked at her speaking with utter honesty and sincerity “This is amazing…thank you.”
His eyes dropped from the wall to a smaller frame on the sideboard, this one contained a photo of him and Katie a ‘selfie’ of the two of them at the Top of the Rock, taken when they had gone back to New York to visit Tony one weekend in October. He loved it, the pair of them grinning like idiots, Katie wearing a baby blue sparkly beany and matching scarf, her smile genuine and him looking like a loves-struck idiot, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he glanced at the camera. She had the same photo in her living room too.
No, he couldn’t go to bed without sorting this out. Abandoning his half-drunk bottle of Sam Adams, he shoved his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and headed out.
****
Katie didn’t even stay for debrief, more to piss Steve off than anything. It was petty, yes but she was absolutely raging at him. Their relationship had been the talk of the Triskellion for months, and for that reason, they had behaved nothing but professionally on missions, wanting to prove to not only everyone they worked with, but to themselves that they could remain objective in their work and that them being together wouldn’t compromise the way they behaved in the field.
And now he had fucked that.
She ignored his call which came just as she got home and throwing her phone onto the sofa she grabbed a glass of wine and ran herself a bath, turning her music up loud. She lay back under the bubbles, gently humming along to the music. Music was her thing to calm down to. She’d always played piano, right from the age of 4 when her mom had taught her, and she loved to sing when she got the change to that was.
The mellow sounds of John Legend’s Ordinary People faded into the opening notes of Only One In Color by Trapt, and Katie paused, smiling. This song took her years back, to nights in London with colleagues in bars, and then a concert in Orlando in 2009…and Steve, it took her back to Steve and one rainy afternoon in August.
I’ve been searching all my life
I used to be so color blind
You opened up my eyes
Do you wanna share your dreams
See a different side of me
You’re everything I need
Katie danced around, folding laundry and dropping it into the basket as she sang, loudly. It had been ages since she’d done this, just danced around her apartment like an idiot. She turned round to grab the final load out of the machine and screamed as Steve was stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame, that annoyingly cute smirk on his face.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough” he grinned, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled into her neck and the two of them stood there, still, listening to the song that was playing.
“What is it?” he asked her.
“Its by a band called Trapt. It’s called Only One In Color” she replied, turning her head to look at him. “it kinda reminds me of you actually.”
Steve smiled as they listened for another second before he moved back, spun her round and pulled him to her.
“Dance with me.”
“What, here? In my apartment?”
“Our own private ballroom.” he shrugged.
“You’ve never danced before.” Katie said, looking at him “You told me.”
“I know, Peggy was right…” he took a deep breath and looked at me “I was waiting for the right partner. So, what do you say? Teach me?”
“You know I don’t really know a lot of steps…” she felt a smile spread across her face as she stepped forward to take the hand that he had offered. Steve placed his free hand on the curve of her waist and Katie began to lead them around on the spot, her right hand held in his left, her left curling up and over his right shoulder. She watched Steve, who was concentrating so hard that his brows pinched together slightly, a look that was incredibly endearing.
“Stop over thinking it…” she said gently, looking up at him. “Listen to the music and just let go.”
You turned an old world upside down
A wave of calm when I was so tightly wound
And so full of doubt
I’ll never tell you that two’s a crowd
I know I can’t get through without
Ever needing you around
A short while later a smile began to pull on his lips as he found a rhythm and he raised his head and Katie grinned and squeezed the hand that she held.
“It’s not that hard is it?” she giggled. Steve returned the grin and shook his head.
“Surprisingly not,” he admitted. They continued to revolve around the space of her large living room to the song, and Katie lay her head on his chest, his face turned down slightly so his cheek was resting against her hair. After a minute or so she felt him move and instinctively she looked up and could do nothing but smile as they stopped dancing and their mouths drifted closer together. Her hand slipped up, fingers stretching themselves into the short hair at the nape of his neck as his lips met hers, his hand creeping across her back, his palm pressed firmly against her spine.
They never made it to the bedroom, they made it as far as the couch before they were both naked and going at it like a couple of horny fucking teenagers. And since then it had been ‘their’ song.
Katie sighed and drained her wine glass before she set about washing her hair and climbed out of the bath. She dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie before pulling her damp hair back into a French braid. She had just settled on the sofa to watch TV when the buzzer to her apartment went. Picking up her phone to look at the security camera she took a deep breath and realised it was Steve.
“Sweetheart let me in. My key card is at home.”
No response.
“I’m not going till you do, you know I could do this all day. Or all night.”
No response.
“I mean it’s a pretty interesting buzzer.”
He grinned as he heard a click and the door opened to the lobby. He selected the floor to the elevator and the button turned green signalling she’d answered that call too. He walked into the apartment and found her on the sofa, what looked like Brooklyn Nine-Nine paused on the TV.
“You were gonna watch this without me?” he said gently, dropping down next to her.
“Yes.” she said simply, her arms folded.
He fought the smile spreading across his face at her childishness. He knew if she was mad the worst thing he could do was laugh at her and make her think he wasn’t taking her seriously. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned so he was facing her on the couch, arm resting along the back.”
“I know you’re pissed at me.” he said, “But come on Doll, I hate fighting with you.”
“Then stop being a dick” she snarked back. Steve took a deep breath and looked at her as she continued “You know what it’s like at work, everyone has constantly analysed everything I do because, hello, Howard Stark’s daughter, and today…”
She trailed off and Steve looked down at his hands. “I know. I didn’t mean to make it look like you couldn’t handle yourself.”
They fell into silence and Katie sighed, deciding to meet him half way. She knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel like he had. There was also a part of her that had been scared. Not just for her and Evans, but seeing Steve rush in, headfirst with no regard for his own safety just to get to her.
“You need to trust me when I’m out there.” she said, her voice was softer, devoid of her earlier anger.
“I do trust you, you know that.” He said, looking up at you. “But I’m not gonna apologize for looking out for you, sweetheart. It’s my job. Both as your Captain and your man.”
"I get that, I do…” Katie sighed, “But you put yourself in danger today, running straight into the middle of a fire fight…can you imagine what I’d have done if you’d have been…”
She trailed off, swallowing and took a deep breath before she continued and her words hit Steve. He hadn’t considered she had felt as worried about him as he had her. “We have to remain objective, and if that means you can’t just abandon the team for me.”
“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry.” he said finally.
She looked at him and took a deep breath, the anger dissipating at his apology and moved to give him a hug, her arms round his shoulders as he wrapped his around her back and pulled him to her.
“I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” she sighed as she lay her cheek on his chest.
“Forgiven?” he asked and she looked up at him, he was giving her his puppy dog eyes. She rolled her own, she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but adore the fact he cared so deeply for her that he’d rush in, head first with no regard for anything else.
Grinning she picked up the remote and pressed play on the episode that was waiting on the TV.
“Guess so.” he chuckled, settling himself down on the couch before she crawled over and lay down along the cushions, her head in his lap.
*****
Katie hadn’t been in the office for 5 minutes the next morning when she got a message to say Fury wanted to see her. In the years she had known the director, she still found it hard to get a read on him and this time was no exception. She stepped into his office and he nodded to her, and without a word got straight to business, leading her over to the screen on the wall by the sofas.
“I was wondering what you made of this.” He said nodding to the large screen on the wall. The photo displayed was of a tree trunk, cut in half and running down the middle was a long, tube like shape, with some markings on it. The photo zoomed in and Katie frowned.
“These look like the markings on Thor’s hammer.”
“Funny you should say that.” Fury said, “because the Spectrographic signatures match the readings from Thor’s hammer too.”
“So whatever was in that tree was Asgardian?” Katie asked
Fury nodded.
“That’s a trunk from a Norwegian spruce in Trillmarka National Park, Norway.”
“Figures” she said.
“How do you mean?” Fury looked at her.
“The legends of Thor, they all have origins in Norway. When I asked him about it, Thor explained that Asgardians visited Earth thousands of years ago.” she said, looking at the director. “They roamed Norway, mingling with the old Norse people, but back then, because they couldn’t understand the concept of people from another planet, they were revered as Gods.”
Fury gave a noise of understanding.
“So who took it?” she looked at Fury “Has Thor been back since Greenwich or…”
She was still slightly pissed he had been back and not in contact with her.
“I wish he had.” Fury sighed “ But no. This thing has gone awol. According to my team on the ground, it was taken by a woman and a man, very much of Earth”
“Great” Katie rolled her eyes “I can’t think of a single time when anything alien in human hands ended well.”
“Understatement of the century…” Fury said, pressing a button on the remote on the TV and she turned her attention to it. It was screening a news broadcast, footage of a riot. The runner on the bottom of the screen identified the location as Oslo.
“The rioting has left 20 injured, 3 in critical condition. Reports indicate that the group of about a dozen was led by this man and woman.”
A picture of a man and a woman flashed up. He was dark haired, dark eyed and had a short beard. The woman, in contrast was slight, blonde and with icy blue eyes.
“And although their motive was unclear, the message was spelled out on the streets of Oslo, for all to see”
“It looks like the item has given them powers beyond those of normal humans.” Fury spoke as the newscast panned over to a fire on the street, this time an aerial view. The fire spelt out the words “We are Gods”.
“So what do you need me to do?” Katie asked, looking at him.
“I’m gonna need you to work with a Field Team.” Fury continued, looking at her “Help them track these guys down. You have a decent knowledge on Asgardian and Mythological history and the team could do with someone with a little background on the subject.”
“Hang on, if these people are as powerful as this report is saying, shouldn’t we consider at least trying to contact Thor, possibly the rest of the Avengers…” Katie frowned.
“No.” Fury said “I don’t want the Avengers involving. It would attract too much attention…”
“More attention than setting a street on fire?” she frowned.
Fury looked at her, an expression on his face that Katie knew extremely well having seen it several times before. The expression he wore when he was about to drop a bombshell on you.
“Oh, what are you hiding Nick?” she frowned.
“I want you to understand that you’ve been kept in the dark about this so far for a reason. And I know you’re going to get emotional, but if you could refrain from throwing that coffee you’re holding Agent Stark I’d appreciate it”
“Dark about what?” she pressed.
Agent Fury pressed a button on his phone on his desk “Alright, you’re up…”
The TV snapped onto a different chanel and she turned to as a familiar man sat in a chair on the screen. Katie didn’t throw the coffee, instead it slipped from her hands as her mouth dropped open and the entire room swam in front of her eyes.
“Sorry, boss. The God rabbited”
“Just stay awake. EYES ON ME!”
“No. I’m clocked out here.”
“Not an option!”
The room came back into focus again and she looked from the screen to Fury, then back again “This…this is impossible” she stammered her words.
“I’d have said the same thing myself not long ago” Agent Coulson said, smiling “Now, I think anything is possible”
Katie found herself floundering for words before the anger at the lies and deceit bubbled up.
“So this whole thing, you dying, was it a set up?”
“No, it’s not like that.” Coulson spoke, shaking his head on the TV screen “I did die, several times on the table.”
“Excellent medics.” Fury concluded.
“They took you away, in a body bag!” Katie yelled as she ran her hands over her face, unable to believe what she was seeing. She’d cried, mourned the loss of one of her friends, a man who had once been her Senior Officer until she had transferred under Hawkeye. She looked at Coulson on the screen, and then away again, her eyes misting up slightly.
“No one knew I’d pulled through until after New York… “ Coulson said softly “I spent months recovering in Tahiti. It’s a magical place…”
“I can’t risk the Avengers falling apart.” Fury said “I debated long and hard about pulling you into this but we need you. But I want your word that you will not reveal Agent Coulson is alive to anyone.”
Katie eyed the director, chin jutting upwards as she glared at him “Don’t you ever get tired of the lies?”
“I have no option.” Fury said, his face stern.
“Well I’m not lying for you.” She said, shaking her head “No way.”
Fury looked at me for a moment, before he sighed “If you tell anyone I’ll have no alternative but to remove you from service.”
Katie snorted “So now you’re blackmailing me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Fuck you. Fuck this.”
She turned to walk out of the door before Coulson’s voice rang across the room.
“Nova, please, we wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t urgent, but we really do need your help
She took a deep breath and turned back to look at Fury and the screen.
“Why should I?” she shot back
“Because…” Coulson continued “You’re the only one I trust enough with this.”
Katie ran her hands over her face, torn between wanting to leave and her desire, sorry, duty to help. In the end her duty won out and she felt her shoulders slump as she looked back towards them, giving them both a curt nod.
“Fine, but that does not mean that I’m happy about this. Any of it.”
“You’ll rendezvous with the Bus in Oslow.” Fury instructed. “There’s a Jet being prepped to take the new shift of mobile STRIKE team members out as we speak. You can go with them.”
“Sir.” she nodded, reverting to absolute professional mode, at least that way she could try and push down what she was feeling. As she went to leave the room he called her back.
“Agent Stark.”
She turned to Fury
“I’m sorry.” He said “But I had to do it.”
She swallowed, before she turned and left, not trusting herself to respond.
*****
Steve was looking for Katie, he knew she’d been to see Fury and was eager to find out what it was about. After asking a few agents if they’d seen her he finally tracked her to one of the kitchens where she was sat, hugging a cup of coffee like her life depended on it. He frowned.
“Sweetheart?” he asked tentatively as she looked up at him. His frown deepened when he saw her face. She was upset. “Honey, what is it?”
One look in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t lie to him, she didn’t want to lie to him. Fuck Fury, fuck all of this. If he sacked her then so be it.
“Coulson…he…” she stammered, looking up at Steve, her eyes wet
“What about him?” Steve frowned.
She took a deep breath, tears now rolling down her face. “He’s alive, Steve, he’s fucking alive.”
And then dam broke and she began to sob. Steve instantly went into autopilot, pulling out a spare chair and moving it close to her so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried into his tevlar clad chest, his own mind whirling at the news.
Eventually she calmed down to tell him everything. And he listened, not saying a word, simply holding her hand, his thumb skating over her knuckles as she spoke. He did, however, make an angry noise that was half way between a snort and a growl when she told him Fury had threatened to sack her if she told anyone.
“I honestly thought I’d seen it all, that nothing life threw up would ever surprise me again.” she sighed looking at Steve as she finished explaining.
“Ten bucks says you’re wrong…” he smirked at her
She spluttered a watery laugh through her tears, remembering what she’d said to him in that gym last year.
“That’s better” he said, reaching over to gently brush her cheek with his hand “I like it better when you smile.”
“Sorry, but I’m so angry” she sighed, “Fury is lying, again! Has he learnt nothing from everything that’s happened over the past few years?”
Steve didn’t say anything, merely studied her face for a moment and then both of them turned their attention to the door when one of the Junior Agents appeared.
“Agent Stark, Director Fury asked me to tell you we’re wheels up in an hour.”
“Thanks.” she said, sniffing before she looked at Steve “I don’t even have time to pack.”
“You got some stuff in your locker, right?” Steve asked.
She nodded. She always had a few day’s worth of clothes in her locker and toiletries to hand, just in case. She ran her hands over her face and stood up. “You know, I don’t even know who I’m meeting!” she shook her head “Other than Fitz and Simmons, I’ve no idea who Coulson has on there.”
“Whoever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Steve said gently “And I know it’s shitty but they asked for you for a reason.”
“Hmmm” she said, “Suppose I best make the most of it. Seeing as it will be my last mission, you know, on account of me telling you…”
“It won’t come to that.” Steve shook his head “I’m not gonna tell anyone I know.”
“Fury always finds out.” Katie said, sighing “Tony is right about him. His spies have spies.”
30 minutes later she was walking to the hangar, suited in her SHIELD cat suit, Steve carrying her holdall for her as they walked. Steve didn’t like this, he hated that she was effectively being manipulated and he would have loved nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t supposed to know. They reached the bottom of the jet and Katie turned to him as he handed her bag to one of the agents who nodded to Katie.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” she said, as Steve looked down at her and nodded
“Make sure you do.” he raised an eyebrow “not sure how I’m gonna cope without my best girl.”
“I don’t intend on being gone for that long” she said, grinning as he dropped a soft kiss to her lips.
“Just do what you gotta do.” he said shaking his head “I’ll be here when you get back.”
He kissed her again, this time a little longer, although both still still aware that they were in the middle of work. Sighing she pulled back and allowed herself to melt into his arms for a quick hug before she stepped back.
“I love you” she said gently.
“You too. Be careful.” he looked at her, his features verging on stern with his warning.
“I’m always careful” she grinned, walking backwards up the ramp, wanting to look at him for as long as possible.
“Well that’s just an out and out lie.” he raised an eyebrow, hands dropping to the buckle of his belt.
She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the main part of the jet. Steve watched for a second as the ramp shut before he turned and left the hangar.
*****
The flight over to Oslow wasn’t too long. Katie used the time to do as much reading up on the item they were tracking as possible, going through all the files that Coulson had sent her. Eventually they docked with The Bus, her and the other agents made their way to the Air Lock. The doors were shut, the capsule took them down a level and the glass doors opened. There stood in front of her, was Phil Coulson. The other agents pushed past, clearly fine at the sight of a dead-not-dead man in front of them. There was a moment’s hesitation, where Coulson and Katie simply looked at each other, and then Katie’s anger boiled over and she slapped him, hard across the face. The agents who were milling around all paused as Coulson’s head snapped to the side.
“Guess I deserved that…” he said, turning his head back to look at her.
As she stared at her old mentor, her anger melted away and she rushed to give him a hug. She squeezed him hard before standing back and then looking at him, scanning him for anything, anything at all that wasn’t right.
“I’m all here!” he smiled, knowing what she was doing. “Come on, the rest of the team are waiting in the lab.” He said, leading her down the hall. He stopped at the end of a corridor, near a door to a room that she could see had a glass wall. Coulson turned to face her and she looked at him
“Now, before you go in, there’s something else you should know…”
She groaned “What now?”
“Fury didn’t want me to tell you as he didn’t think you would come…it wasn’t my decision to keep it from you.”
“Keep what from me?” her temper was flaring again now “I swear to God AC I am this close…”she held her fingers an inch apart “to losing my shit…”
Coulson hesitated for a moment and then opened the door to the lab. As they walked in 6 people all looked up from what they’d been watching and turned to face us. One of them was a dark haired girl she didn’t know. Next to her were Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz who she knew from the labs when they had worked with Lawson, then she spotted Melinda May an agent only rivalled in fighting skills by Natasha. And then a familiar face smiled at her, from where he had been bent over a tablet.
“Oh for fucks sake…” Katie muttered and she turned to Coulson who shrugged apologetically.
“Good to see you too.” Ward said. Katie folded her arms and glared at him.
“And this is Skye…” Coulson said, breaking up the tension, introducing the new girl. “She’s…a…”
“hacker.” May said, at the same time Skye replied “consultant”
Skye glared at May, who was simply wearing a smug expression on her face.
Katie was struggling to keep her temper under control. First Coulson, now this. Fury was going to get it when she got back.
“So, shall we get down to business?” Coulson asked, spotting the look on Katie’s face and realising she needed to focus on something else. “What have you got?”
“We’ve managed to identify our thieves…” May spoke as Sky pressed something on the tablet she was holding. A close up of the woman’s face appeared on the holo-projector in the middle of the room. “Her name is Petra Larson”
“And this is Jakob Nystrom, her boyfriend. Both 30 Leaders of a Norse Paganist hate group”
“And their numbers are growing thanks to what happened in London and the internet” Sky said “Yay internet,”
“Norse Paganist?” Simmons questioned
“Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology, stories of Asgard, yada yada…” Skye explained.
“And now a weapon.” Ward said, gesturing at a long object on the table.
“Is that a 3-d print?” Katie asked, instantly captivated by the item, looking at Fitz. He nodded. “May I?” she asked
“Of course…” he said. Katie picked it up and turned it over in her hands, the detailing was exquisite.
“The scan accounted for only one side.” Fitz said, “Too much damage to the tree for a complete reproduction”.
“But, see here, it’s clearly broken on both ends.” Katie said, holding it up. “So there are more pieces…”
“Yeah, two at least” Fitz responded, nodding.
“Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set.” Ward said.
“The markings.” Coulson turned to Katie “Just as you said on the call they’re Asgardian symbolism.”
She looked at it again “Similar to Thor’s hammer”
“Yeah, hard to translate with our limited knowledge.” Couslon said
“You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shout.” Sky spoke “ He gets his powers from his hammer, right? What if this is his nail to the hammer?”
“He’s off the grid.” Coulson said, looking at her “And if he has a cell-phone, we don’t have the number.
“I told to get him a pager…” Katie muttered as she peered at the rod and then something stirred in her mind, and she began racking her brains. There was something similar about this, something that she’d seen or read before, if she could only remember what.
“So…” May looked at Katie, “ SHIELD’s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers.”
“We’re charged with identifying the object and finding any other pieces before they do.” Coulson spoke
Katie nodded, still thinking “If this acts in the same way as Thor’s hammer then that’s a sensible task…”
And then she trailed off as it hit her.
“No...” she muttered. “It’s...no, it can’t be...”
Coulson looked at her questioningly
“I mean, I could be wrong but this…this could be a piece of the Beserker Staff.” she continued
“The what?” Ward looked at her.
“It’s from an old legend… that a great warrior, from another world came to Earth. He had in his possession a magical staff but he loved Earth so much he never left, and he broke his staff into pieces and hid them…”
“Any idea on where?” Coulson asked. Katie shook her head.
“Well our Pagan friends certainly seem to have some advantage on that front” Ward said “They found this thing in 150 square kilometers of Norwegian forest.”
“Guys, what if it called to them with magic?” Sky asked, her eyes going large and excited.
“Called to them?” May said, shooting her a ‘be real’ look in response.
“We know it’s Asgardian, so the rules are a little bendy here.” Skye pressed.
“Just because we don’t understand something yet doesn’t mean we should regress back to the dark ages, talking of magic and fairy tales” Simmons said, Fitz scoffed his agreement.
“Actually, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Katie said, looking round.
“Excuse me?” Simmons asked.
I turned to Agent Coulson “AC, remember when we first found the hammer in New Mexico, as I told Fury to consult with an expert on Norse Mythlogy to fill the gaps.”
“Elliot Randolph,” Phil nodded.
”He’s a professor at a University in Seville” Katie said, looking round “We should speak to him, he’ll probably be able to help.”
“Alright.” Coulson said, looking at May “Set the course, lets pay him a visit.”
“Shouldn’t take us too long.” May said “But it is getting kinda late. By the time we get there it will be past 8pm local time. Can I suggest we head out first thing tomorrow morning?”
Coulson nodded “Alright. Sounds like a plan”
He turned to Katie, gesturing with his head for her to follow him out of the room “The Accommodation is probably a bit smaller than you’re used to, but…”
“If it’s that bad imma find a hotel.” she said as she followed Coulson down the corridor.
“What and miss all the fun?” he looked over his shoulder “I’ve had the gin bar stocked specially.”
“Yeah, for the record that isn’t going to take away from the fact that I’m utterly and utterly pissed at you and Fury you know.” she shot back.
“I know you well enough Nova to not even hope that would be the case” Coulson said as they turned right. Eventually they reached the living area and Coulson led her to one of the spare rooms. It wasn’t as bad as Coulson made it out to be, a bed that was slightly bigger than a single but not a full double, a small wardrobe and a small sink area.
“This isn’t so bad.” she turned to Phil who was watching her.
“Glad it meets your approval.” he said, leaning in the door way. “look, I really am sorry about all of this…”
“Its fine.” Katie said, “Let’s just find that thing and then I can go home.”
“That’s the plan.” Coulson nodded. “I’ll be in the bar in an hour or so, got a few things to sort out…be nice if we could catch up”
Katie nodded, and then watched him leave.
**************
So, we’re crossing over into Agents of SHIELD territory now for a little while before we get a very, merry STARK Christmas.
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the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter six
A/N: hey yall, here’s the next chapter! thank you for all the feedback on this story so far. please keep telling me what you think bc i love to hear it. alrighty, here yall go and i’ll see you later :)
story description
taglist: @far-to-many-bands , @idfk-tbh-oops , @muted-mayham , @ughwhyislifesohard , @justtanerd , @ashyoungxblood , @cmburgos
trigger warning: cursing???, mentions of blood and hunting
word count: 1617
~~~~~~~~~~~
I squinted my eyes, looking around the bedroom slowly. The clock read 2:30 P.M., and the sun was shining bright through the window. I whined lowly as I sat up, gliding my legs out of my bed.
I barely remembered getting back to the apartment. I remembered Jake and I carrying each other up the stairs. Jake had crashed on the couch, and Sam never came back, deciding to hang with Katrina the rest of the night as we got drunk. Surprisingly my hangover wasn't too bad, just a light stinging.
I stood up slowly, feeling a little wobbly and dehydrated. I walked to the bedroom door and opened it, going into the living room and kitchen. As I turned the corner I was faced with Colby. He leaned against the counter coolly, scrolling through his phone. He didn't glance up when I walked in.
I rolled my eyes at his presence, stepping towards the fridge and opening it. I grabbed a water bottle and took a long gulp.
“You introduced Sam to Katrina?” Colby muttered, finally staring at me.
I placed the bottle on the counter and nodded my head. “Yeah. He said he liked her, so I figured I could be his wingman. Or woman.”
“Kat’s a vampire.” He stated.
“Yep. And your point?” I gazed up at his face, puzzled.
“He shouldn’t…” He trailed off.
I scoffed. “Date her? Hate to be the one to break this to you, but he can do whatever he wants.”
“Her power manipulates emotions. He’s probably not into her.” Colby insisted.
“That’s not what her power does. It’s the after effect of it.” I admitted.
“What?” He sighed.
I threw my hands up defensively. “That’s what she told me.”
“And you believed her?” Colby glared at me.
“Look, if she’s lying, I’d be more concerned about the fact that Mike and Kevin are besties with her than Sam having a tiny crush. If you really don’t trust her that much, why let her get that close to everyone?” I snapped.
Colby didn’t reply. He stared at the ground and bit his lip in thought.
“Don’t get pissy with me. I haven’t done anything wrong and you already hate me.” I grunted, starting to walk away.
“Jade wait.” Colby called.
I stopped and turned back to him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been as rude to you as I was the first night you were here. I highly doubt this is a situation you want to be in either. I’ve just been in a shitty mood. It’s not your fault and I apologize.” He confessed, his shoulders dropping.
“Okay…” I rested my hands on my hips, looking at the floor.
There was a silence that fell between us, teeter-tottering on awkward and peaceful.
Colby broke the silence bluntly. “You need to learn to fight.”
“What?” I chuckled.
“You don’t know how to fight or defend yourself against vampires. I remember how you were the first time I saw you. Jasper could have easily killed you and you did nothing to stop it.” He recalled.
“Was I supposed to know how to fight off a vampire? Is there a class I can take?” I jeered.
“I can teach you. I mean, you kinda need to know. Especially since Cyrus is still after you.” He reminded me.
“What did you find out about him?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
“Well, from some of the vamps I was able to talk to, Cyrus’ last known place in downtown LA was recently demolished, so he hasn’t been seen since then. He’s probably laying low because he knows I’m after him.” Colby speculated.
“Y-you’re gonna get him right?” I stammered.
He nodded. “Of course, but in the mean time you need to learn to defend yourself against a vampire if they attack you.”
Colby opened a drawer and pulled out a stake, handing it to me.
“You guys just have these laying around?” I joked.
Colby ignored my quip. “First off, you need to know the weak points of a vampire.”
He grabbed my right hand as it held the stake, placing the tip of it to his neck.
“Vampires heal at an extremely fast rate because we are immortal. The neck is one of the only places that can maim a vamp for longer than thirty seconds. Stabbing here is a good place to start if you’re trying to kill.” He informed.
He slid my hand down to his heart, the stake pointing at it.
“This is the only place that will kill a vampire. Nothing else can kill us, so you must aim for here if you want to kill us. You got it?” He inquired.
I confirmed. “Yeah.”
“There’s… one other thing that can hurt a vampire. Sam’s gonna kill me for telling you, but I think this is the only situation that warrants this.”
Colby grabbed gloves from the counter and opened a cabinet, pulling out a white flower. It was unusual; one I had never seen before. It was porcelain white and delicate. It had a long stem and the flower’s buds sprouted out in a circle, like an explosion of fireworks. It resembled multiple dandelions connected altogether.
“What flower is that?” I asked, stepping towards it.
“This is an Angelica flower. This is the only flower known to us that can poison vampires.” He described.
“What?” I exclaimed quietly.
“Not many things can hurt vampires. But this little plant and all of its kind can.” He hissed.
Colby ripped a part of it off and lightly brushed it against his skin. His skin burned from the brush and he winced hard. He clenched his arm as it slowly began to heal.
“Holy shit. How did you guys find out about this?” I uttered.
“A vampire Sam was interrogating told him about it as a peace offering. He was killed, and Sam investigated. He found that where these plants grow, vampires stay away. Then we kinda tested it on me and other vamps.” Colby divulged, smirking.
“Why is it poisonous?” I wondered.
“Who knows? Humans have used this for healing and for spiritual practices. Maybe that’s why it hurts us: because we’re dead.” He deadpanned.
I ignored his tone. “What happens if you ingest this?”
“Vampires can take a very small amount, but it weakens them. Anything over can cause a lot of harm. If it’s injected, it can cause memory loss in vampires. If it’s in a human’s blood stream and a vampire drinks it, it can kill them depending on how much. Most vamps don’t even know about this. The ones that do don’t want humans to know because then it will be in everything and we’ll be forced into exile.” He explained.
I gasped. “Wow… that’s crazy. I thought vamps were invincible.”
“We are for the most part. Just this little plant and stakes.” A soft smile came to his face. “I want you to have some. Take this.”
He grabbed a glass tube from the cabinet and passed it to me. “It’s a vile of it grounded up. I have my own that I use from time to time.”
“What, why?” I questioned.
“I – um… drink it.” Colby answered.
“How? Doesn’t it hurt?” I queried.
“Yeah, but it’s better that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“To stay alive, vampires only have to drink three times a week. Anything more is for pleasure. It's... very easy to fall into that bloodlust. I don't like to get to that point, so I drink this in a tea. It takes away the cravings because it hurts me.” He replied.
I chuckled. “I never heard of vamps not drinking from humans.”
“I haven’t for a long time. Since I met Sam, actually. I use blood bags now. But recently, I’ve had to drink a lot of tea.” He mentioned.
“Why?” I inquired.
“Because of you.” Colby blurted out.
I glanced at the vile. “Oh.”
“I’m used to being around humans, living and working with Sam and Jake have helped. But you… your blood… is unlike anything I’ve smelled before. It’s why I’ve been an ass to you.” He admitted, playing with the rings on his fingers.
I giggled. “I make you moody?”
He bit his lip, hiding a smile. “You can say that.”
A pause fell over us again, this time no awkwardness appeared.
Colby looked at his phone and then back up at me. “I’m gonna head out soon to look for Cyrus again.”
I hummed. “Alright. Where’s Sam and Jake?”
He revealed. “They’re doing some business with Mike, but they’ll be back later.”
I nodded, grabbing the water bottle from the counter and slowly starting to head back to Sam’s room.
“Oh, before I go, I want to give you one more thing.”
Colby reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver chain bracelet. A circle pendant rested in the center, a deep black color.
“This bracelet is a caller bracelet. It has a GPS tracker in it and a panic button. If you click the pendant, it will notify all of us that you are in danger. We’ll be able to find you in a matter of moments. In case anything were to happen...” He explained.
“Wow. Who made it?” I questioned.
“Sam did, but I had the idea for it.” He laughed. “Here, let me put it on you.”
Colby unclasped the bracelet, wrapping it lightly around my wrist. His fingers brushed my skin as he closed it, sending shivers up my arm.
I turned my wrist over to look at the bracelet, smiling at it. “Thank you.”
Two little dimples came to his face as he finally fully smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
<< CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 7 >>
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29. Linaria Bipartita (notice my feelings for you)
On AO3
A loud moan woke Tony, though he had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while. That usually happened when he’d been out drinking. He didn’t really do hangovers as such, but he found sleep was hard to come by once the sun was up. Once the afternoon came, though, Tony tended to crash. And crash hard.
Things were already feeling a little different, though. It might have been the bruises on the column of his throat, or the small spring in his step.
Pulling on a baggy sweatshirt that he didn’t think was his but that had a modestly-high neckline, Tony wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room. Hearing his houseguest moving around, he paused in the doorway and watched as Steve woke up slowly, his face scrunched up against the bright lighting in the living room. When Steve pushed himself up into a sitting position and caught sight of Tony standing in the doorway, he grimaced.
“Morning, Tony.”
Tony’s lips quirked up at the deep scratch of Steve’s voice. “Morning. How’s the head?”
“Shit. I feel like death warmed up.”
Tony snorted. His heart started to beat wildly in his chest and he could feel a flush already rising. Even with bed hair, bags under his eyes, and a pillow crease down his cheek, Steve was still the most beautiful man Tony had ever seen. “Yeah. You look like it.”
“Gee, thanks.” Steve yawned widely, arms above his head. The borrowed blanket that he’d had over himself slipped down and Tony couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering, eyes settling on the expanse of tanned, muscled chest. “Fuck, what the hell did I drink?”
“The bar?” Tony swallowed and looked away, hating the memories that flooded his brain and started to make his cock twitch with interest. There was nothing he wanted to do more than launch himself across the room and into Steve’s arms, but he could play coy when he felt like there would be something in it for him. And hopefully, there would be something in him very soon. “We’ll have to go back and make sure they’re still in business.”
“Ha. Ha. Pretty sure you helped. You little hooligan.”
Tony grinned and looked back at Steve. “Corruption. Peer pressure, I think you could call it.”
“Nope, it was all on you.” Steve shook his head before he winced almost violently and threw a hand up to his face. “Okay, don’t move your head,” he muttered to himself lowly, voice deliciously husky. “Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.”
Tony snorted again. “I could have told you that, dickhead.”
Steve looked a little surprised, but it faded into a slow smile. “You’ve been hanging around with Buck too much, if you’re talking back like that.”
“Problem?”
Tony loved the way that Steve looked at him, all gentle shock fading into soft pride. It was true that Tony had needed to be brought out of his shell and that Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey had been the three men to do just that. Their personalities were so different to anybody else that Tony had ever met in his sheltered life before moving to college, but it seemed that that had been a good thing.
After a few months of them literally taking him beneath their wings and introducing him to an entirely new world, Tony had started to trust that they were actually, genuinely his friends and had started to let a bit of his cheekiness show.
If it was going to have the added bonus of making Steve look at him like that, then Tony was all for it even more.
“Nah, I think I kind of like it. Tiny Tony growing up.”
Tony narrowed his eyes, but he softened quickly when Steve shot him a wide grin, one hand still massaging his forehead.
“So, what did happen last night?” Steve asked through a yawn, which quickly turned into a groan.
And that stopped Tony in his tracks. What was the supposed to mean?
“You don’t remember?” Tony asked, trying not to let any sort of emotion colour his voice and give anything away. There had to be an explanation; it was probably just Steve giving him an out. Or an in.
Last night had been everything to Tony and Steve was saying that he didn’t remember it? There was no way that that was possible. Steve had been drunk, sure, but not so bad that he wouldn’t be able to recall… what they’d done.
“I don’t think so.” Steve scratched his stomach and rolled his neck, drawing Tony’s eyes to his body, flickering between the two spots as he tried to take in as much as he could. “Not even sure how I got back here.”
And, oh. That hadn’t been what Tony had wanted to hear. In fact, that had been the very last thing that Tony had ever wanted to be told. Nothing could have prepared him for the shiver that went down his spine at those few words, or the crushing pain that closed around his chest.
How could he have been so stupid?
Without saying anything in response to that, Tony pushed himself from the door frame and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard to fill with water and shook three Advil from the pill bottle – Steve would definitely need three after the night that he had. Apparently, he’d been even worse than they’d thought.
Taking a moment to enjoy the peace and to will down the emotions threating to spill up and out of him, Tony let out a long breath. He pressed his palms against the cool surface of the work station and revealed in the feeling against his overheated skin. He was going to need a minute. Or two.
There had been so much in the previous night’s events that Tony had longed for for months on end. It was as though all of his dreams had come true and things were finally going to fall into place. Except, apparently, they weren’t.
After a long moment more, he collected himself to head back into the living room. He’d have happily stayed in the peace and solitary of the kitchen, but he knew it would be suspicious. Once he’d gotten to the bottom of the situation with Steve and knew where he stood, then he could hide.
He had a feeling he was going to need to.
Tony headed back out to the living room where Steve was sitting on the edge of the couch and putting his socks on, looking around gingerly for his shoes. Tony held out the water and pills and Steve took them with a grateful nod, swallowing the painkillers quickly and emptying the glass before sinking back into the couch cushions with closed eyes.
Keeping his eyes on Steve, Tony lowered himself into the armchair opposite the couch.
“So, you really don’t remember anything?”
“Not really,” Steve said. He opened one eye and squinted over at Tony. “I remember getting to the bar. I think I remember meeting Clint’s friends from his chem class, and then Natasha ordered shots. I don’t remember much else after that. Did I miss anything important?”
“Well,” Tony started casually, stamping down on the fist around his heart and the lump in his throat, “there was the naked dancing on the bar top.”
Steve’s head shot up, mouth open and eyes wide, before he caught sight of the wicked grin on Tony’s face and rolled his eyes, fighting off his own smile as he sank back down.
“No, you didn’t forget anything important,” Tony said with a weak chuckle.
His heart was thudding wildly in his chest and he had to look away from Steve’s gentle smile, choosing instead to stare down at his lap. There was a thread hanging from the bottom of his sweatshirt and he had to twist his fingers together to resist the urge to pull and pull and pull. Things unravelled when they were pulled, he told himself. Tony licked his lips and dug his fingernails into his palm.
“Just the usual group night out. There were too many shots, too much dancing and far too much food. Sam got wasted and crashed pretty early. Bucky drew all over his face – I’m pretty sure it was in Sharpie, so it’ll probably still be on him this morning.”
Steve snorted and Tony’s lips turned upwards in a small smile at the noise.
“We met some of your classmates at one point, I think. They were from your life-drawing class. Maria, maybe? And someone called Scott. There was a blonde girl, too. Shannon?”
“Oh. Sharon. Did we stay with them?”
Fuck. Tony had hoped that he had been wrong on the previous night when he had caught longing looks from Sharon to Steve, but the forced causal tone that Steve had adopted told him that he’d read it correctly.
“No.” Tony swallowed harshly. Of course Steve wanted the beautiful girl. “No, they moved on somewhere else pretty quickly. Tash went with them, but you stayed with us. Said you didn’t trust me to wander off.”
Steve laughed and Tony pressed his lips together at the sound. He wanted to hear nothing but that every day for the rest of his life.
“Sounds like me. Was right, though, wasn’t I? You needed me.”
And wasn’t that true?
Tony cocked his eyebrow instead and smirked. “Oh, yeah? Mind I remind you who is in whose apartment and who cannot find his shoes?”
The blush that flooded Steve’s cheeks was dangerously cute and Tony looked away again.
“So, just a normal night then? We lost Clint somewhere along the way and Sam ended up with a dick on his face.”
Tony laughed, tight and brittle. “Sounds about right.”
Well, Tony thought sullenly, that and the best night of his whole life.
♡
“Hey, Tony.”
Tony looked up from the bar-top to see Steve standing close to him, practically caging him in.
“Hi.” Tony grinned at the hazy look on Steve’s face and the way he was swaying with the music. “You okay?”
“Yeah, ‘m good. Are you okay?”
Tony’s smile grew wider. Feeling the alcohol course through him and making him feel braver than usual, he didn’t stop to second guess himself before he reached a hand out and cupped Steve’s hip. At the touch, Steve swayed forward and buried his head into Tony’s neck.
“You smell good,” he moaned, his hand dropping his drink down haphazardly to wrap around Tony’s waist instead.
“Thanks.” Tony moaned as Steve began to kiss the column of his throat, his eyes falling closed and his hand spasming around Steve’s belt.
It was easy to forget where they were for a long moment as Tony gave into the feeling of Steve pressed against him, his hot breath being panted against his neck. The music was loud and the air thick around them, the occasional dancer bumping into them as they clamoured for more drinks, but it was all almost embarrassingly easy to ignore.
Steve let out a particularly loud groan and Tony rocked forward in response, seeking more friction. He tangled his hand in Steve’s hair and, with some difficulty, lifted his head until their eyes met. They only held the heated gaze for a moment before Tony surged forward, taking Steve’s lips with his and licking his way into Steve’s mouth almost desperately.
All too soon, Steve pulled away, though he didn’t go far. His lips dragged over Tony’s cheek, nose pressing against Tony’s temple and making him squirm.
“I want you.”
Tony felt his knees crumple at the words he’d longed to hear for so long. If it weren’t for the bruise he could already feel on his neck and the cool air making his swollen lips sting, then he would think he was dreaming.
“No,” Tony said, though he held Steve closer instead of pushing him away. Always closer. Always with him, never apart. “You’re drunk.”
“I want you. Please say you want me, too.”
Tony whimpered. “Can’t you feel me?”
“I want you to say it.” Steve kissed Tony once, twice, hips pressing him further into the bar.
“Yes,” Tony whispered. The words wouldn’t have been heard over the music if they hadn’t already been sharing the same breath. “Yes, I want you.”
It had been all Tony had ever wanted, since almost that first day of college. Steve was everything that Tony could have wanted; funny, kind, gentle, a bit of an asshole, gorgeous, and smart. There was no universe in which Tony would have pushed Steve away from him.
♡
“Good,” Steve said and Tony swallowed again, nails digging further into his palms. “Glad I didn’t miss anything important. And I’m sure someone has photos, right? Someone normally does.”
Tony winced minutely. Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. Clint tended to fancy himself as somewhat of a photographer when he got wasted and tried to record everything their group ever did. Tony would have to cut that off pretty quickly and hope that any evidence hadn’t found its way onto social media already.
“Yeah,” Tony said, praying that his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt. “I’m sure. He seemed to have his phone out every time I looked at him.”
“Wait.” Steve looked up suddenly and squinted. “Why did I end up here? Thought I’d have gone home with Buck.”
“Bucky had taken Sam back to yours before we went. The whole passing-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thing was kind of a downer so Bucky said he’d take him home. You and I stayed out for a bit longer and, I don’t know.”
You didn’t want to wake him up with loud sex with me, Tony thought bitterly. Bucky had left before Steve and Tony had started dancing together, never mind done anything more risqué, so at least that was one problem that he didn’t have to deal with. Tony lifted one shoulder in a causal shrug and shook his head.
“Don’t know if you had a key on you, anyway. You were a bit out of it and I didn’t want to go rifling through your pockets to find out. Easier to bring you back here with me, in the end.”
♡
The moan that Tony let out as his back hit the door was loud enough to hurt his throat. Steve must have felt it as well, as he pulled back to try and look at Tony.
“No,” Tony whined, cupping his hands together behind Steve’s head and bringing him back for another searing kiss, “kiss me.”
“Fuck.” The word was accompanied by Steve’s thigh sliding between Tony’s legs and pressing up against his crotch. “Tony, so good.”
“Come on, Steve. Come on,” Tony begged, grinding down on the leg between his and panting wantonly. “I need you.”
“No.” Steve kissed his way down Tony’s neck, pausing to suck another deep bruise into his neck. “Not tonight.”
“What? Please.” Tony threw his head back and let out another groan, movements almost turning to bounces against Steve’s solid thigh. “Fuck me.”
Steve pulled back only to catch Tony’s mouth in a searing kiss, leaving him breathless. “Not for our first time,” he said when they broke apart, holding Tony’s hips and helping him move against Steve.
That was a change of tune, Tony thought with a dark glare. In the club, Steve hadn’t had those same sort of thoughts. The alcohol was burning off in Tony’s system, but it seemed as though it was being replaced with a white-hot passion, a desperation to be close to the man he wanted. It was coursing through him and making his head spin, much like the tequila that Natasha had poured down his throat had done.
“You deserve so much more. So much better.” Steve kissed Tony again, tongues dancing together. One of his hands slid up beneath Tony’s shirt, fingers pressing into the dimples at the bottom of his spin. “Gonna treat you right. When we’re not drunk, not rushing. We’ll do it right.”
Tony didn’t want to do it right; he just wanted to do it. He wanted to feel Steve against him, feel their bodies moving together in tandem and to finally be connected with the one he’d pined after for so long.
“Will you do something, though?” Tony should have been ashamed at how desperate he sounded, but the wolfish grin on Steve’s face told him that he didn’t seem to mind.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Steve said and Tony’s eyes rolled back into his head when Steve shoved his hand down the front of his jeans. “I’ve got you.”
♡
“Personally,” Tony continued, pointing at the empty takeaway boxes on the coffee table between them, “I just don’t think you wanted to share your pizza with him.”
With cum-stained pants and hardly any energy, they’d stumbled into the living room and ordered pizza at 3 am. They’d shared sticky kisses over the greasy food until Steve had fallen asleep on the couch, one hand clutching a crust and the other stroking over Tony’s back.
“Huh,” Steve said, huffing out a laugh. “Don’t even remember ordering that, but it sounds about right.”
Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t surprised. Nothing could surprise him anymore, he didn’t think.
Taking a steeling breath, Steve stood up on shaking legs and picked his jacket up off the floor. Searching through the pockets with a slightly nervous expression, Steve grinned triumphantly when he found his keys and pulled them out with a jingle. “Thank fuck those are still there.”
“Guess you were drunker than you thought you were,” Tony chuckled weakly. “I tried to tidy up but I have no idea what you did after I went to bed. Looks like you had your own private party.”
“Yeah. I guess I was. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid. I was not in a good place yesterday.” Steve’s smile faltered a little bit and he cleared his throat. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
“Do you want a coffee?” Tony asked suddenly. His heart was heavy and his head was still pounding. He didn’t want to be there anymore, didn’t want to hear how Steve didn’t remember what Tony would cherish forever. He didn’t want to talk about anything, really. “My head is louder than the damn club and I need caffeine.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Steve squinted at Tony, looking at him questioningly. “Hey, are you okay?”
Tony opened his mouth to brush the question off before Steve’s phone suddenly buzzed on the coffee table, the two of them wincing at the loud vibration that it made.
“Shit,” Steve said after he picked it up and thumbed the screen. “Bucky’s up and wondering why I never went home. I’d better go and show him that I’m still alive.” He took a step forward before he stopped and closed his eyes. He swayed back and forth on the spot for a moment. “Or maybe I should take another second… nope, okay. I’m good.”
Tony huffed a weak laugh. “You got this. You’re a big, buff man. You can handle your liquor.”
Steve smiled at Tony and shrugged into his jacket, shoving his phone into his pocket and waving his keys in Tony’s face.
“Thanks, again. For the pizza and the couch.”
“Yeah.” Tony’s mouth was dry and his knees weren’t going to support him for very much longer. “Anytime. You know that.”
The hug that Steve caught Tony in was the final straw. Tears sprung to Tony’s eyes and he twisted his hands in Steve’s jacket until his knuckles went white. It was for the best, he told himself when he stepped back and plastered on a smile. He was a big boy; he could handle it.
“Go. And take a photo of Sam’s face. I need to see it again.”
Steve snorted as he opened the front door. “Best hangover cure, right?”
Finally alone again, Tony wandered back into the kitchen. He made himself a cup of coffee on autopilot as he picked up his phone for the first time that morning.
He’d put it off, knowing what he was going to find. And sure enough, there were countless messages, though luckily none of them had made it into the group chat.
Received from Natasha > Bruce told me. Way to go, shpil'ka! Get some.
Received from Rhodey > Finally!
> I’m happy for you
> Don’t ever tell me any details
> I will kill him if he hurts you
> I’m serious Tones. NO DETAILS
> NEVER ANY DETAILS
Received from Clint > ew.
> i didn’t need to see that
> no. seriously
> youre gross
> ew
Tony huffed out a humourless laugh. If things had been reversed, if he’d woken up in a different world, then he would have loved those texts. He’d have turned over to smother his laughs into Steve’s chest, typing out a cheeky and suggestive message just to see Steve’s cheeks flush a bright red as he would try and wrestle the phone away.
There would have been more teasing. It probably would have spilled over to the group chat as well, and then Bucky and Sam would have joined in when they’d put two and two together. Clint would send the photos that he’d taken of the two of them kissing, as dark and as grainy as they would be. Of course they’d have been stupidly unclear, but Tony would have chosen a favourite and made it his background, just to see Steve grin bashfully.
Tony would have taken selfie after selfie as well; one of their top-halves naked and pressed together, one of Steve pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek, maybe even one of their lips meeting in a soft kiss.
But none of that would happen. Because life didn’t always work out as it had been planned and things didn’t always go the way that people wanted. Instead, Tony took a deep breath and opened a new group chat, quickly picking out a handful of people that he hoped he could trust to dampen the wildfire of the rumour mill.
Sent from Tony > Last night never happened.
Received from Rhodey > What?
> What did he say?
> Tony. I’m calling you
> Tones answer me. I’m going to kill him
Received from Bruce > What are you talking about?
> Did Steve say something to you?
Received from Rhodey > Answer your phone, you idiot. We’re talking about this
Received from Clint > i promise it did i saw it
Received from Rhodey > Tony. Answer. Your. Phone
Received from Bruce > He’s going to remember. I think Clint took pictures
Received from Clint > i took pictures lots of them
> i have the mental scars it deffo happened
Received from Rhodey > Tones. I’m coming over. Carol too
Tony took a deep breath as his phone continued to buzz and flash in his hand. His head was still pounding to a loud and heavy beat, but it was almost drowned out by the pain in his chest.
Fuck, but how did he always get himself into messes? He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to have to explain what happened or what he’d done. All he wanted was to be loved by the man he loved, to be wanted back and to be seen as more than a drunken fuck.
He wanted to be remembered. Sure, he could just tell Steve, but he didn’t want that. He wanted Steve to want to wake up with him, to want to kiss him when there wasn’t the stale taste of warm beer and cheap vodka staining his lips.
Jokes were never funny if they had to be explained, just like passion was never there if it had to be told about. It was clear that it had been a drunken thing and a drunken thing only. Tony would only look desperate if he tried to convince Steve what they’d done, or look like a liar if he claimed that Steve had promised him a sober fuck.
Tony just wanted to be wanted, that was all. That’s all he ever wanted.
Downing his coffee and wincing at the protesting thud his head gave, Tony willed his thumbs into typing out one more text before he threw his phone across the room and tried to force his body into sleep.
Sent from Tony > It never happened.
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Imagine working at Freddy’s Pizzeria, and telling your dad something is wrong. (Part One)
Description: The reader just got a new job at Freddy Fazbear’s. He thinks something is up and is proven right on the first night. Maybe his dad can help? This is the family business...
.
So I’ve never played FNAF, but from one reddit thread I gathered that it takes place in Utah. Please let me know if this is wrong!
~~~~~~~~
Another day, another motel in Nowhere, Utah. Y/n was starting to wonder if his dad and uncle actually knew what they were doing or if they were just taking a break from their case. They had already been here three days.
“So...when are we leaving?” Dean didn’t look up from the newspaper he was reading.
“Sam said the guy we’re talking with could need us for about another week. Maybe two.” Groaning, y/n flopped back onto the motel bed. He was so bored!
“Can I help?”
“No. Too dangerous and I can’t be worried about you getting hurt while working.” Y/n started to pick at one of the threads on the comforter.
“Sam will be there, he can keep an eye on me too.” Dean finally looked up from his newspaper.
“Y/n. I understand you want to help but I need to know your safe. That means sitting out on this one, okay?”
“Fine. But I’m helping next time.” Dean smiled and nodded in agreement.
“Alright.”
<—>
Help Wanted: Nightguard; Details inside.
That was the sign that greeted y/n when he went on a food run. The pizzeria looked run down, but hopefully looks were deceiving; otherwise it was burgers again.
“Whatever. Anything is better than burgers again.” Y/n opened the door of the pizzeria and was greeted to possibly the saddest place he’d ever seen. The restaurant looked empty and outdated, and the animal robots—animatronics, y/n told himself—on the stage were...actually kinda creepy.
“Hi! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, how can I help you?” A cheerful voice broke through the silent restaurant, and y/n found himself faced with a waitress probably just older than himself.
“Yeah. You guys are open, right? I didn’t walk in when you were about to close?”
“We’re still open!” Y/n nodded and almost took a step back from the waitress. She was almost scary perky.
“Okay, cool. I didn’t want to walk in at the last minute. Do you have a menu I could look at?”
“Yep, here you go!” Glancing at the menu, the majority of it seemed to be character themed pizzas. Y/n decided to make conversation as he looked for something the three Winchesters would all like.
“I saw your ad about the night guard position on the door—” Y/n was cut off before he could finish.
“Oh, are you going to apply? Here, let me get my manager!” Before y/n was able to ask for more details, the overly perky waitress had gone into a back room. She returned with a balding man who was smiling widely.
“Good afternoon! So, you’re interested in the night guard job?” Y/n shook his head.
“I was actually just curious. And looking for someplace to grab lunch.” The manager’s face fell.
“Oh, my bad. I thought you were hoping to apply for the position.”
“I mean, what exactly are the details? I might know someone who could apply.” He really didn’t, but y/n felt sorta bad for getting the older man excited for nothing.
“Well, it’s a temporary position. Five nights, and all you have to do is stay in the security office.” Temporary? Maybe y/n could do this job and get some spare cash. He could use some new tires for his bike...
“That’s it?” The manager nodded.
“Yep! It does have a low pay, but we are going out of business soon and don’t have the funds to pay much more than $200.”
“I see. Could I apply?” Placing his chin in his hand, the manager looked y/n up and down.
“It depends. How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen years old.” A lie, but y/n highly doubted the man would hire a sixteen year old. He looked old enough to be eighteen (at least, Sam said he did).
“Alright. And do you have any serious health problems or conditions?” That wasn’t something y/n was expecting. Wasn’t there paperwork for this kind of thing?
“Uh...no?” The manager grinned widely. It was a bit unsettling.
“Great! Can you start tomorrow?” Y/n’s eyes widened. Was this even legal?
“Wait, seriously? That’s it?”
“Yep! And don’t worry about buying a uniform, we’ll provide you with a shirt.”
“Alright then. What time do I come in?” The manger went back to his office, returning with a shirt and a sheet of paper.
“Just be here before twelve AM. Your shift ends at six. This paper has all the details and my number in case of emergency.” Y/n took the shirt and paper from the manager.
“Got it. And one more thing?” The manager raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”
“Can I order a large cheese pizza?”
<—>
“That was possibly the grossest pizza I’ve ever eaten.” Dean pushes his plate away, one slice still left on it. Y/n took another bite of his and grimaced, wondering how exactly you screwed up a pizza this bad.
“Don’t blame me, I didn’t make it.” Sam set his plate down, all the cheese gone on his slice after it slid off.
“Where did you get it? So we know to avoid that place.”
“Place called Freddy Fazbear’s. Also I kinda-sorta-maybe got a temporary job there.” Dean choked on his soda and Sam had a surprised look on his face.
“Wait, what?” Y/n put his hands up defensively.
“So this place needed a night guard for like five nights and I figured since we’re going to be here for a while, it wouldn’t hurt!” Dean shook his head and turned to his son.
“Y/n—” Y/n interrupted before his father could finish speaking.
“Dad, it’s only five nights in a building that was empty in the middle of the day. It’s probably just as empty at night.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea...” Y/n rolled his eyes and took a drink of his soda.
“Seriously. It’s six hours of watching a restaurant in the middle of the night. What could possibly happen?”
<—>
Y/n parked his bike outside the pizzeria and chained it to the bike rack. Even at night the place was creepy, possibly creepier. Making sure he had the keys he received earlier, y/n headed inside.
It was eerily quiet without the music playing from the speakers. The animatronics were on the stage, and y/n couldn’t help but shudder as he walked by them.
“Creepy as hell, but entertaining to kids.” Y/n snorted, walking quickly away from the stage. He soon found the security office. From a quick look around, it appeared that all y/n would have were the cameras.
“Right. Let’s see...I guess I’ll just sit and play on my phone?” At that exact moment, the office phone rang. Y/n picked it up to hear the tone for a prerecorded message.
"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? Thinking it was just a welcoming message, y/n began poking around the small office while the message played on. There really wasn’t much in there, and the doors had weird buttons near them.
“...So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.”
“Wait, what?” Before y/n could entirely process what the phone guy said, he accidentally knocked the phone down and unplugged it from the wall. Y/n scrambled to plug it back in but the message was already gone. “Shit!”
Slumping down in the chair, y/n ran a hand through his hair. Why would he possibly be at risk of dying? It was only a night guard job! That was when he spotted the note on the desk.
“Seriously, what the hell is up with this place?” Y/n decided to take a look at the cameras. Yep, there were all the animatronics—where was the rabbit? Flipping through each camera, y/n kept an eye open for the rabbit until—
“There! Wait, that’s down the hall. Is it coming here?” Y/n quickly jumped out of his chair and ran to the door, hitting the button to shut it. Not a second later the rabbit was outside, trying to get in.
It didn’t stop after the rabbit left. The whole night, each animatronic kept trying to get inside the office. At one point, three animatronics
At 5:57, y/n lost power.
“It’s fine. There’s only three minutes left.”
5:58. Two minutes. The fox animatronic entered the office, and lunged towards y/n. He ducked out of the way and bit back a scream at the hook cutting deep into his shoulder.
The fox turned around for a second go, and—
—it straightened, turned, and left the office, leaving behind a very confused y/n. As soon as the manager arrived, y/n booked it back to the motel he, his father and his uncle were staying at.
<—>
“Hey, did you see where I left my keys?” Y/n didn’t pay attention, too focused on his research to notice Dean talking to him.
“Y/n?” Y/n glanced up at his father, one eyebrow raised.
“What?”
“Did you hear what I said?” Y/n shook his head.
“Sorry, I was busy. What’s up?”
“My keys, do you know where they are?” Y/n pretended to be deep in thought for a moment.
“Uhh...your pocket?” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Very funny. What’s got you so occupied?” Y/n turned his laptop around to face Dean, a search for ‘Freddy’s pizzeria’ displayed on the screen.
“The animatronics at the place I’m working tried to kill me last night. Also I should probably look into getting a tetanus shot.” Sam peeked out from the bathroom door with a confused expression.
“What?” Y/n pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, revealing a bloody bandage to his father and uncle. Dean’s eyes widened in shock.
“What the hell happened to you?!?!”
“I told you, a robot pirate fox with a hook tried to kill me!”
~~~~~~~~
I don’t own the above gif, all credit goes to the owner.
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Shatter Me - Chapter Twelve
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 4439
Summary: The Winchesters were your world. After joining their hunter ranks, you quickly became attached to the brothers. After a successful hunt, you insist on going out celebrating with the boys – only for a loose end to catch up with you. You’re trapped in a world without hunger, thirst and the Winchesters. With the brothers beside themselves, they make preparations to say goodbye until Dean starts to connect to you through his dreams. Little do they know that you’re much closer than they think…
Chapter warnings: 18+ angst, lot of angst, a few swears, mentions of death and grief.
A/N: We’re getting closer and closer to the end! Three chapters left! I cannot wait for you guys to see what’s to come but i’ll just keep my lips sealed for now haha. Thank you to everyone who reads, and reblogs. You guys are the best <3
Also, look out for a teaser for my new Dean x Reader upcoming fiction in the next chapter, i’ll be linking it n the notes :)
—
If you do read, please, please let me know your thoughts! Reblogs and shares mean the world. Feedback is fuel for writers, it sets a fire under our asses to churn out more for you lovely lot :)
Love all of you guys <3
(Please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :) x)
Shatter Me Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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With a stiff neck, Dean awoke on the couch in the library only to find it empty. The tables laden with books and lore but the chairs were bare of bodies. Groaning slightly, Dean sat up and rubbed at the base of his skull, trying to ease his tension. The images of you in pain flashed through his mind. The way your skin cracked, the way your screams pieced his ears; he never wanted to see you in that much pain ever again.
He jolted from his seat, rushing his way through the library, past the kitchen with the intent of getting to his room. He didn’t even question why the library was empty, his mind wasn’t on the likes of his brother, the witch or the angel. His mind was only on you and the damn snow globe that was your prison. His mind on you and his gaze to the floor, his shoulder collided with a body that made him grunt to a halt. The body of his younger brother.
“Dean! I-it’s Y/N, she’s-”
“-yeah I know Sam, I saw it happen,” Dean somewhat snapped, pushing past Sam to get to his room, “we need to get her out, now!” He barked, forcefully opening his door causing it to bounce of the wall. Sam followed, holding out his hand to keep Dean’s door open.
“But we don’t know where she is,” he said as more of a statement than a question, his brow creasing as he watched his brother march to the other side of his bed.
“Yeah, we do,” Dean corrected as he made his way to the snow globe that was perched on his bed side table. The globe seemed almost luminous in the darkness, a faint blue hue emitting from it, the same blue hue that appeared when you got trapped in there the first time.
Dean hesitantly picked up the globe, in fear of breaking it. He did as you suggested, he scanned the globe and sure enough, there were cracks surrounding the glass at the base. Thick, deep cracks edged into the globe and Dean felt himself vibrate with anger. All this time, you’d been right next to where he’d been sleeping. How did he not know? How did he not see it?
“Son of a bitch, it’s been here, she’s been here, all along.” Dean’s eyes shot over towards his little brothers, Sam’s expression mirroring his own. Shock, relief, worry. Dean held the globe at the base as he gingerly made his way around to his bedroom door. Sam’s eyes were trained on the globe, he himself not believing that you had been under their nose this entire time.
“So how do we get her out?” Sam questioned, shutting Deans bedroom door behind him as he followed him into the corridor.
“That’s what we’ve got to figure out,” he mumbled as he continued to stare into the globe. He didn’t know what he was looking for, he didn’t know if he would be able to see you actually in there or not but somehow, he couldn’t look away.
Both brothers made their way to your room where you were currently being monitored and looked after by both Rowena and Castiel. When the curse took a hold of you, and hastened its progress, they both rushed to your bedside. Castiel did his best to use his grace to try and slow it down whilst Rowena was using all manner of spells to keep you healthy but it was proving to be a hard job. Nothing was touching it. Nothing was stopping it. You were deteriorating minute by minute, from the curse and from malnutrition.
As Dean entered your room, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Your body seemed more lifeless than it was before, if that was possible. You were pale, your skin greying, the cracks marking your skin. He placed the globe on the side, quickly and gently, in fear that he might drop it with the emotions that he was feeling. Sam joined Dean’s side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as Dean turned to look at you once more. He rubbed at his face, before placing his hands on his hips.
“How’s, how’s she looking?” He questioned, swallowing a lump in his throat. Dean noticed how Castiel and Rowena shared a look and he frowned, stepping forward slightly.
“Dean, I-I, it’s not good. She’s probably got 24 hours, if that” Rowena stumbled over her words, not wanting to upset the boys but unfortunately, it was inevitable. Dean’s eyes grew wide as he brought his first to his mouth, turning around and looking away. Sam’s face read panic as he moved around his brother, facing Rowena.
“24 hours?!” Sam exclaimed looking between the angel and the witch, not understanding how they had such little time left. Rowena opened her mouth to speak but she was cut off by Dean as he turned back to face the group.
“It knows we’re on to it,” he scoffed, “it’s like it’s self-aware, how can a curse be self-aware?!” Dean almost growled, his gaze zeroing in on Rowena, looking for an answer which made her feel slightly uncomfortable.
“It depends on the magic.” Was her simple reply, and it was true. It did depend on the magic. However that response only infuriated Dean. He balled his fists at his sides, his jaw ticked as his voice roared.
“Don’t try and justify it Rowena!” He shouted, “your kind, magic and witchcraft, it’s what got her here in the first place!” He accused as he got dangerously close the witch. Rowena flinched back slightly, her hands behind her back reaching for a surface to ensure she didn’t fall.
“Dean, enough!” Castiel commanded, mirroring Dean’s stance from the other side of the bed. Dean’s expression didn’t change, his blood was boiling as he pointed towards Cas in a manner of authority.
“No! You weren’t there. You didn’t see what it did to her. You didn’t see how it literally tore her body apart when she remembered what happened, when she figured out where the hell she was,” he exclaimed, his voice laced thick with emotion. With Dean’s last admission however, Castiel’s frown weakened as he looked between Dean and Sam.
“You know where she is?” Castiel urged, walking around to stand next to Dean, strategically trying to get him to move away from Rowena. Dean didn’t move, his stare was firmly planted on you laying still on the bed. He leant forward onto his knuckles as he lowered his head, his heart pounding in his chest. The air was tense around all of them and Sam knew that Dean could blow at any given moment, he was emotionally charged. Trying to be of comfort to his brother, Sam began to explain.
“Y/N went into the store to buy this particular snow globe the day it all went down. Look at the base of the globe, it’s covered in cracks just like…just like-”
“-she is.” Dean’s voice was low, gravelled as he cut in, “she remembered. She remembers the curse, the feeling of her soul being torn from her body, she’s remembers everything and if that witch was still alive, I would make her pay over and over again!” Dean’s voice started to elevate in volume towards the end of his sentence as he pushed himself off the bed with anger, turning his back to Rowena.
“Dean…” Sam cautioned, raising his eyebrows at him slightly, warning him to calm down. Dean nodded slightly, understanding his brother’s silent looks to tone it down and keep his cool. He ran a hand across his forehead before turning back to the redhead.
“Did you find the answer or not?” Dean pushed, his tone still sharp but his delivery low. Rowena nodded, her hands slightly jittery as she turned the pages in her journal.
“Yes, we did and now we know where the wee less is being kept, we can get her home,” she explained, her fingers brushing the ink on the paper, “we’ll just need some time to get the ingredients together.”
“DAMMIT ROWENA, WE DON’T HAVE TIME!” Dean roared, his temper exploding, his emotions flooding out of him. He batted away Rowena’s books before roughly running his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands.
“ENOUGH DEAN!” Sam interjected, grabbing onto Dean roughly and tugging him towards the doorway, “enough, come on, you can help me get some of the stuff.” He pushed Dean out of the room before sending Rowena an apologetic smile, grabbing the list of ingredients from the side table. He looked at Castiel and nodded towards the witch and Cas knew that Sam wanted him to look after her and make sure she was ok.
Sam marched Dean down the hall, heading towards storage. One of his hands on Dean’s shoulder and the other on the top of his arm, ensuring that he kept him walking in the one direction. Two pairs of footsteps echoing down the empty halls, Dean’s huffing the only other sound to be heard. Before they reached the room, Dean snapped and pulled himself forcefully from Sam’s grasp.
“Get off me Sam, you don’t get to frogmarch me out like I’m some damn kid!” He roared, shrugging his shoulders before slamming open the door to their stocked supplies. Sam just huffed himself, frowning at his brothers actions.
“Yeah, then don’t act like one!” he chided, following Dean into the room and placing the list of ingredients onto a shelf, “what the hell was all that about?!” He questioned, annoyance lacing his tone. Dean just rolled his eyes as he flicked from one item to the other, his attention not really on what he was looking for.
“You know damn well,” he grunted. Sam just allowed his frown to deepen, one hand running through his brown locks.
“No I don’t Dean,” Sam retorted, “but wait, let me guess. It’s about how much you hate witches right? Yeah we know but that does not give you the right to blow up on Rowena the way you just did. She’s here, helping us Dean. No strings.” Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his eyebrows in his hairline as he shot Dean a look. Sam knew that he was right, Dean did too as he sighed and ran a hand across his brow.
“I know, dammit, I know,” Dean almost whispered before grabbing the list of ingredients off the shelf. He took a moment to glance over it before looking back up at his brother, “but come on Sammy, Rowena’s just said Y/N has twenty four hours at most and we still have to wait around for ingredients. If I lose her, I-”
“-we won’t Dean,” Sam interrupted, taking a step close to his brother to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Hey, remember the day she came into our lives? What a ball of fire she was? Man the look on your face.” Sam laughed, he remembered the day well, and it was a fond memory for him as well as Dean. The eldest Winchester smiled fondly, a smile tugging at his lips.
“How could I forget,” Den conceded, “werewolf hunt, Idaho, about a year and a half ago”
The house was run down, beads of water dripping from the ceiling creating an eerie atmosphere as the brothers scoped the place for their target. They were in the middle of some woodland, they had tracked a pack of werewolves to this exact spot only to be greeted with nothing but silence. The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck were standing on end as he surveyed his surroundings. A clash from the kitchen made both brothers point their guns towards that door. Dean made the signal to Sam that he was going in first to which Sam nodded. Slowly, Dean reached for the round door handle and turned it to open, pushing the door away from them.
Taking a step inside, Dean curled his nose at the smell. He almost miss the quiet shuffle to the right of him, he almost missed the 6ft werewolf that was waiting in the shadows, preparing to strike. Unfortunately for the werewolf, Dean’s reflexes were faster than he was. As he pounced, Dean swiftly moved to the left, allowing himself to come up behind the man and knocking him just hard enough with his gun to make him immobile. He also shot a silver bullet in his kneecap for good measure. Grabbing the werewolf by the collar, Dean slid him up onto a chair whilst Sam made work on binding the man’s hands. Dean bent down in front of the wolf, his green eyes scanning his face as a slight smirk sat upon his lips.
“You know what Fido, being puppy chow is not on my to do list for today,” he quipped, waving his gun around slightly as he straightened up. The werewolf just sat there, a smug smile planted on his face as he leant back in his chair.
“That’s what you think,” the wolf retorted, “you can kill me, go ahead, I’m loyal to my pack and they’ll be loyal to me,” He said with an aggressive tone to which Dean just laughed. Sam’s face remained stoic as he looked around the room, he was looking for any kind of sign as to where the rest of this werewolves’ pack could be. They had been tracking them for a couple of days, he was almost certain that this was their home.
“Loyal? They left you high and dry” Dean scoffed, waving his arms around wide to back up the fact that this wolf was alone. But the wolf just grinned, his posture relaxed despite a silver bullet in his kneecap.
“That’s what you think,” he replied as he leant forward slightly on his chair, his eyes boring into Deans. The eldest Winchesters face became void of emotion at that statement, a million variables running through his head, that was, until he heard cars and trucks pull up outside. The headlights beaming through the small cracks in the boarded up windows. Realisation dawned on Sam quicker than it did on Dean.
“He’s bait,” Sam stated, squaring out his shoulders as he looked towards the werewolf tied up on the chair. The werewolves smile got wider.
“…and bingo was his name-o,” the wolf sang, almost mocking Dean’s earlier quip as he stared down the brothers.
“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, as he ticked his jaw. Sam moved silently, holding his gun close to his chest as he snuck to the front door, aiming to scope out as many as he possibly could. The wolf chuckled, bring Dean’s full attention back to him.
“You’re surrounded. So much for the all mighty Winchesters,” the werewolf taunted. It only took a second but the monster’s smugness turned to fear in seconds when he saw how Dean’s face had changed. His eyes were dark, his shoulders were square and his gun was pointed straight at the werewolf’s heart.
“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Dean hissed before pulling the trigger. Crimson painted the already dirty surfaces as the silver bullet entered the wolf. It took only a second, but the life drained from the monsters eyes as it slumped forward. Dean pulled up his nose in disgust before joining Sam by the front door. Dean didn’t even have to ask his little brother about the situation, his look was merely enough for Sam to respond.
“I counted ten but there could be more,” Sam said in a hushed tone, not wanting to give away their already vulnerable position. Dean just nodded his head slightly, puffing out his lower lip.
“Good job I brought enough bullets,” Dean quipped, motioning for Sam to step back so they could take their defensive positions. Sam nodded, turning what small lock was in the door before retreating next to his brother. Luckily the place had already been barricaded, whether this was a tactic by the werewolves so they knew the Winchester brothers would have only one point of entry was a mystery, but it was certainly working to their advantage now.
It didn’t take long before the door handle starting to jimmy before banging came upon the front door. The lock wasn’t going to hold for long, pieces of wood already falling from the blocked out window thanks to the strength of whoever was outside. Dean and Sam raised their guns, with one point of entry, they knew they had a good stand. They would be able to hit each one as they tried to enter, at least that’s what they thought.
The banging on the door soon stopped only to be replaced with a commotion amongst the pack. Screaming and shouting could be heard echoing outside which had the brothers confused. Taking steady steps towards the door, now being able to use the freed up window to see better, they were greeted with members of the pack being assassinated where they stood. They were all in a panic, none of them knew where the silent kills were coming from. Some were cowering behind others, some were sniffing the air to try and get a scent of an intruder but before it could register, they would be taken down by another bullet.
Noting that there were only a few werewolves remaining, Dean and Sam decided to unlock the door to aid the assassination of the pack. They had no idea who was behind the shots but they were thankful that the assassin was on their side. The few remaining wolves were cowering behind their cars to shield themselves from the silent bullets but they had forgotten about the Winchesters. Taking a few kills themselves, they thought they had done. Bodies surrounded them on the floor but as Sam stood up straight, he didn’t see the young werewolf stalking him. It was over in seconds, just as the young wolf was about to pounce, a bullet pierced its way through its heart before it landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Both of the Winchesters eyes were wide as they looked around once more, this time ensuring everyone was truly dead.
In that moment, Dean heard footsteps and cocked his gun in the direction of the sound. Only to be greeted with a young woman, sniper attached to her back with a pistol in her hands as she held them up in a surrendering manner, showing she meant no harm.
“You boys ok?!” You asked, your voice full of genuine concern as you approached the brothers. Your gaze flickered over Dean before focusing on Sam. Dean frowned slightly as you stepped closer to them, the lights from the headlights now highlighting your face and features and Dean’s mouth went dry. You wore a khaki coloured v neck top and same coloured jacket paired with dark jeans and combat boots. Gun holster on your thigh, sniper strapped to your back and the concern etched in your features, you were beautiful.
“Yeah, yeah we’re good,” Sam replied, disarming himself by placing his pistol in the back of his jeans. Dean still had his gun burning his palm, his stare not once leaving you. Naturally, he was on guard, you could be a rival wolf from another pack or you could have been someone who they had pissed of recently. However, he still couldn’t help his attraction to you.
“…and you are?” Dean asked, his tone softer than normal as he tried not to sound like a dick. You just turned to him and smiled a warm smile as you holstered your gun.
“Y/N,” you answered, holding out your hand to shake his, “Y/N Y/L/N.” You hand was left lingering in the air as Dean’s eyes bore into yours. He didn’t move, he was dumbstruck by you and it was confusing him. Dean Winchester was never dumbstruck around women. Instead, Sam made the move, not wanting the situation to become any more awkward than it already was.
“I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean,” Sam introduced and noticed how your smile grew into a wide grin as you placed your hands into your front pockets of your jacket.
“Ahh the Winchester brothers! I’ve heard quite a few tales about you guys,” you mused, your smile turning coy as you still felt the eldest Winchesters gaze upon you. He hadn’t stopped staring, even though Sam had nudged him. Noticing his gun was still in his palm, Dean also decided to disarm himself.
“I’m sure,” he quipped as his eyes were trained to the supressed sniper on your back, “hey, where did you learn to shoot...that…thing?” He questioned, he was curious, naturally. He had to admit that he was impressed. You had taken out several of the werewolves with that gun which in turn had helped the brothers immensely.
“Oh you mean my BFG?” You retorted, one hand exiting your pocket to point to your back. Dean just frowned slightly in confusion and looked towards Sam who only shrugged.
“BFG?” Dean asked, looking back towards you in hopes for an answer. He had heard of many guns in his time but nothing of a BFG. The only BFG he knew was the one written by Roald Dahl. You laughed slightly, looking between the brothers.
“Big fucking gun,” you explained, emphasizing it with your hands, “it is much easier to pronounce and remember that than the actual name of the sniper. My dad trained me, he was a hunter too. Spent most of my younger years shooting cans from afar,” you admitted, a sad smile on your face at the memory. Dean noted how your expression changed slightly and although he didn’t know you, he wanted to see you smile a happier smile once more.
“Well you saved our asses, so you know, thanks,” Dean praised, a soft smile resting on his lips, his features gentle. You just nodded, placing your hand back into your pocket before looking over your shoulder into the distance.
“How about you boys thank me by getting a round in at that bar down the road? I sure could use one after all that,” you prompted, turning back towards the brothers only to see them having some sort of silent exchange with one another.
“Sounds good.” Sam nodded, already walking off in the direction of where Dean had parked the impala. Dean nodded also, rubbing his hands together as he walked to your side.
“Sure, I could use a beer”
Dean smiled fondly at the memory, nursing his glass of whiskey Sam had brought him before going back to search through all the ingredients that they had in storage. In that moment, he was infatuated with you. A woman who could hold her own, a woman who could use a sniper effectively, a woman who had made him look at life in a completely different way.
“You know, in that moment, I swear…I just knew no other woman would do it for me the way that she does,” Dean admitted, his focus never leaving the box in front of him as he continued his search, “I was taken in by everything she was, by everything she is.” Sam just nodded, he knew how deep Dean’s feelings ran for you, and he knew that Dean loved you. Sam knew that from the moment you agreed to help him research the next case over a bottle of Jack, Dean’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Yeah, she’s definitely something special,” Sam agreed, nodding himself as he went over the list, checking off what they had already found, “I’m happy for you man, I am. Letting your guard down, allowing yourself to love someone.” Sam looked over at Dean as his brother had stopped searching, he was now leaning against the shelves, head in his hands as he combed through his hair in frustration.
“Yeah well look where it’s got me. Sorting through year upon year old shit to find the right ingredients to bring Y/N home because I wasn’t fast enough to save her. That’s even if this damn spell will work!” Dean exclaimed, his stress levels rising. His knuckles became white with irritation at the whole situation. It was becoming too much. The image of you in pain was still in the forefront of his mind. The cracks, the burns, your screams. You were his everything and he didn’t want to lose it. He couldn’t lose it. Sam noticed his brothers stress and offered a sincere smile, walking slowly over to his brother.
“Go back to her,” Sam said softly, offering a comforting hand upon Dean’s shoulder. Dean just shook his head slowly, standing straighter to go back to searching for what they needed.
“What? No Sam, we need to find this stuff,” Dean replied in exasperation, his voice tired. Sam just nodded, not one to give up so easily.
“Yeah and I’ll get Cas to help,” he stated, encouraging Dean away from the boxes as he carried on explaining, “look, you need to spending whatever time you have with her. She’s weak and she needs you right now. Go, we will get you out when everything is ready,” Sam clarified, a reassuring look resting in his features. Dean only had to look into his little brothers eyes to know he was telling the truth and deep down, he wanted to spend every one of his minutes with you. He patted his little brother on the chest twice, a gesture of thanks as he turned to the door.
“Thanks Sammy.” With that, Dean made his way back to your room. In hopes that Castiel will help him lose consciousness so he could be with you once more.
Going over that memory, remembering how you came into his life, Dean knew he had to tell you everything. He loved you. He loved everything about you and he needed you to know. In his heart, this spell was going to work and you would come home, everything would work out the way it should. In his head, he had doubts and those doubts were the ones that ate away at him, the ones that tell him that this is it, this is your last chance.
So Dean wanted to take that last chance with both hands. He was coming back to you and he was going to tell you how much he loved you and he was going to tell you the exact moment that he realised his love for you ran deeper than friendship. Just in case it happened to be game over.
A/N: Hope you liked it! 3 more chapters to go...just what could happen?!
Any feedback would mean the absolute world to me so if you have the time, i’ll love you forever! If you love it - please comment/reblog and let me know!
Also if you want to join us for the rest of the ride let me know - TAG LISTS ARE OPEN!
Just send me an ASK and i’ll happily oblige :)
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COMPROMISE - Steve Rogers x Reader Imagine
So this is a Fic I actually wrote a little while ago on my old blog. As its one of my favourite MCU Fics that I’ve written I thought I’d repost it here!!!
Author: @no-drama-llama90
WC: 4674
Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark!Best Friend x Reader
Summary: Just Fluff and Cuteness mostly. Mentions of PTSD and trauma. Set at the start of Civil War. What should have happened!!! gif credit
I was laying on my stomach sprawled across my bed, flipping through a magazine, using air to lift the pages with a simple flick of my fingers, when a low chuckle made me look up.
“You know that is super lazy… I approve!”
My face split into a large grin as I spotted my best friend in the entire world nonchalantly leaning against my doorway. I gave an excited squeal, leaping off of my bed and hurtling towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he laughed and spun me around.
“Tony, what are you doing here?” I leant back and slapped him lightly on the arm.
Tony Stark gave a pretend grimace and rubbed the spot I had whacked him while following me to sit on my bed. He looked around the small but bright room that had been given to me on my arrival to the Avengers Compound, lingering on the photos on my desk and shelves.
“I always liked that photo,” Tony murmured, looking at the largest photograph on display.
I followed his gaze and gave a small sad smile. “So do I,” I replied softly, my eyes skimming over the smiling faces in the picture. Tony was there, young and exuberant, his arm around my teenage self. My little brother looked surly, having been made to stop whatever game he was playing. Our parents stood proudly behind us. Howard and Maria Stark stood next to my mum and dad, the four best friends laughing and full of life.
Everyone in that photo, except for Tony and I, was dead now.
“So what are you doing here?” I eventually asked the man sitting contemplatively on my bed.
“What, I can’t just pop in to see you?” Tony joked but I picked up on the tension hidden in his voice.
“Hey,” I said softly, making him look at me with a hand on his cheek. I slipped off his glasses so I could see into his eyes. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Tony seemed to war with himself, an internal battle of will. “I just…” he started but was interrupted by another figure arriving in my doorway.
“Tony!”
I looked up to see Steve looking at Tony a little apprehensively, Wanda hovering in the hallway behind the Captain.
“Captain!” Tony stood and gripped Steve’s hand. Steve smiled genuinely and clapped Tony on the shoulder. The men stepped backwards and Steve’s expression turned unreadable.
“You brought the Secretary of State?” Steve’s tone had an undercurrent of tension, obviously questioning Tony’s motive.
Tony gave a quick nod of his head as an answer and started walking down the hallway, Steve falling into step beside him.
Wanda waited for me to exit my room, my best friend in the compound linking her arm through mine as we followed the two Superheroes to the conference room.
We were the last to arrive, the others already sitting around the large table standing in the middle of the room. Secretary Ross was standing at the front of the table, looking less than impressed by being made to wait. Wanda took the empty chair by Vision, while Steve, Tony and I took seats towards the back of the room. Taking my place at the end of the table between Sam and Steve, I looked over my shoulder to see that Tony wasn’t sitting at the table but instead had taken a seat right in the back left-hand corner. I frowned at him over my shoulder but he was looking down at his hands, actively avoiding the questioning eyes in the room.
I was properly worried now. His behaviour reminded me of how he was after New York. The panic attacks and insomnia that led him down a dangerous path, that at the time I had not been around to stop.
Secretary Ross started speaking, starting a long tirade. I grew wary as he continued to talk, not liking what I was hearing.
Then he started the slideshow of the destruction left behind by our team.
“New York!” His voice rang out and suddenly there were images of falling buildings and ruined streets crawling with aliens.
I stiffened, my eyes glued to the screen although I desperately wanted to look away.
A large warm hand covered mine, squeezing gently, lending me silent support. I looked up into Steve’s understanding eyes. I smiled weakly at him, portraying my thanks, before looking over my shoulder at Tony. My best friend’s eyes, trained on the projection at the front of the room, were overly bright.
It was the New York Battle that had claimed the lives of my parents and younger brother. And seeing them die right in front of my eyes had awoken the otherwise dormant elemental powers in me. Without New York, I would be a normal college student trying to find her way in the world and popping in to see my family on the weekends.
But life hadn’t worked out that way.
Secretary Ross had moved onto the other cities we’d been in, each name displaying more destruction onto the screen.
“Washington D.C.” Steve stiffened beside me as we watched the three Insight Helicarriers crash into the water.
“Sokovia.” I flicked my gaze towards Wanda, wishing I were closer to where she was sitting, as we watched her home city mid-destruction.
“Lagos.” As the decimated building came into view, I saw Wanda frown and look away, fidgeting in her seat. My blood started to boil. How dare this little man come in and rub our mistakes in our faces. I shot the Secretary a glare that could’ve peeled paint, just as Steve’s commanding tone rang out clearly.
“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve’s eyes were on Wanda, concern making his brow furrow.
Ross gave a nod to his assistant, the projection shutting off as the Secretary continued his long spiel.
“For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”
Ross’ assistant handed him a large foreboding book and slid it onto the table in front of Wanda who gave it a quick glance before sliding it across the table to Rhodey.
“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organisation. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”
I peered down the table at the thick book that Rhodey was flicking through, only half paying attention to the conversation still flowing around me. My mind was racing as it came to the realisation of what that book represented.
I turned to glance over my shoulder, just as Steve and Tony traded a loaded look. I turned back towards the table, my eyes meeting with Wanda’s. She looked scared, fear filling her eyes, despite her attempt to keep her expression neutral.
Ross had started to walk away from the table when Nat spoke up for the first time, making my head snap towards her and then towards the Secretary to watch his response.
“And what if we come to a decision you don’t like?”
“Then you retire.”
The whole atmosphere in the room was loaded with tension as the Secretary walked out. I looked around at my team, my family, and knew that I couldn’t let this happen to them. My mind was painting a very clear picture of where this was going and I did not like it one bit.
I stood, ignoring the questioning looks, and walked quickly after Ross, catching up with him at the elevators.
“Secretary Ross?” I called, making him pause in his tracks and look back at me. “Do you remember me? You used to play golf with my father.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Bobby’s daughter right?” Ross squinted at me questioningly. “What can I do for you?”
I took a deep breath, strengthening my resolve. “Those accords, the panel, the UN involvement, it’s all just bureaucratic bullshit and you know it, sir.”
Ross looked slightly taken aback but then gave a small wry smile. “Is that so?”
I nodded my head and took a step closer. “I grew up surrounded by it. I know a political move when I see it. Someone, somewhere, has an agenda and is using these accords to achieve it.” I locked eyes with him, refusing to budge.
“And you think that's me?” All signs of humour were gone from his now unreadable expression.
I took a deep breath and then continued. I was in too deep anyways to back off now. “I don’t know, sir,” I replied honestly, shrugging my shoulders a little. “All I know is there are only three reasons for these accords to be made.”
“One, they’re hoping that the Avengers will disappear altogether. Two, they want their own personal army to do whatever they want whenever they want. Or number three, they honestly think that the people of the world need protection from the Avengers. And I’m here to tell you that none of those things is going to happen!”
Ross’ expression was now a mixture of confusion and anger. “Is that so. Tell me, little girl, why?”
“Because if it’s reasons one or two there is no way that those people in that room, who have put their lives on the line countless times, will go down without a fight and no way that they will blindly do some bureaucrats dirty work for them.”
“And reason number three, wanting to protect civilians from what we perceive as a danger to their lives?” Ross asked, not able to mask his curiosity.
“My dad told me that you were a smart man, Mr Secretary,” I cocked my head to the side. “You know that these accords will never work. They are doomed to fail.”
Ross didn’t reply, just continued to look at me calculatingly.
“Putting a panel in charge of the Avengers is like putting a flock of geese in charge of herding a bunch of cattle. Nothing is going to get done and pandemonium is bound to follow, and people will die.”
“So, what do you suggest we do?”
His question caught me off guard. I had honestly not expected him to pay attention to a word I said.
I thought about it for a moment. “Honestly I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “But I know that together we can come up with a solution that better suits everyone.”
“A compromise?” Ross picked up on what I was saying, his mouth quirking up at the corners.
“A compromise,” I agreed, nodding my head in affirmation.
“And you think you and the others.” Ross swept a hand towards the conference room behind us. “Can come up with a better solution.”
“I think we can if we have more time!”
“Fine.” Ross turned towards the elevators and nodded to his assistant who pressed the button to call the lift.
“Sir?” I questioned, not quite sure what he meant.
“You have your time, Miss Y/L/N. I will talk to the UN and get the Vienna meeting pushed. You have one week, one week, to come up with a better solution or the Accords will be ratified.” Ross glared at me in a warning way. “Don’t let me down after all your pretty speeches.”
The lift doors closed on the Secretary, leaving me feeling deflated and little nauseous.
“Well, that was amazing.” A deep voice came from behind me, making me spin around in shock. I hadn’t realised that anyone else was in the corridor.
Steve gave me an unreadable stare, making me shuffle my feet nervously. “I just needed to make him see that those,” I waved my hand towards the room behind him. “Are not going to get us where we need to be.”
Steve gave a quick nod. “Everyone’s in the lounge,” he told me, jerking his head towards our communal area upstairs.
We walked up the stairs together in silence. Steve kept glancing at me as we went. Eventually, I stopped and planted my hands on my hips.
“What?”
The Captain also stopped a few paces away and turned to face me, taking in my annoyed expression.
“It’s just, I never thought you would be such a good mediator,” Steve finally answered, his expression slightly confused.
I sighed and continued walking, brushing past him. “I grew up in a Politician’s house, remember. Bullshitting is a part of my makeup.”
“Did you call us cows, by the way?” Steve asked as I walked away from him.
My mouth quirked up in a small smile as I looked over my shoulder at him, “Maybe.”
Steve gave a wide grin and followed me towards the communal area. I walked into the lounge just as Steve caught up, the sound of arguing immediately putting my teeth on edge.
“A hundred and seventeen countries want to sign this. A hundred and seventeen, Sam, and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”
“How long are you going to play both sides?”
I glanced between Rhodey and Sam who looked like they were about to come to blows. I opened my mouth to speak, but Vision interjected before I could get a word out.
“I have an equation.”
Steve took a seat at the end of the circle of couches, essentially putting himself at the head of the room. I sat on the couch next to Wanda, as I heard Sam mutter under his breath.
“Oh, this will clear it up.”
Vision looked up, making eye contact with each of us in turn. “In the eight years since Mr Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”
“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve questioned, his tone slightly defensive.
“I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand,” Vision answered his voice even graver than usual.
“Boom.” I heard Rhodey exclaim as I looked over towards Tony, who was being worryingly quiet, stretched out on a couch with one hand on his face.
Nat had also noticed Tony’s behaviour.
“Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal,” the redhead commented, head cocked to one side.
Steve looked up from reading the accords and glanced at Tony’s prone figure. “It’s because he’s already made up his mind.” Steves tone let everyone know what he thought of Tony's decision.
“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony quipped his sarcastic reply as he pulled himself off the couch, wincing as his hand went to rest on the back of his head. I frowned as I watched my best friend rub the base of his neck, the pain evident in his movement. Nat also eyeballed him carefully before meeting my gaze, raising one eyebrow in concern.
“Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.” Tony walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a clean mug. I followed him with my eyes, knowing that Tony only had headaches when he was stressed and not sleeping.
“That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” Tony’s tone was meant to portray annoyance but all I heard was someone trying to control their own pain by lashing out at others.
Tony put down the coffee pot he was carrying and chucked his phone into the fruit basket at the end of the bench, acting like it was an afterthought as he tapped the screen, projecting an image of a young smiling man.
As the others turned their attention to the photo, I continued to scrutinise Tony. I did not like what I was seeing.
Tony glanced down at the bench he was leaning on and then looked up, pretending to notice the picture for the first time. I resisted the urge to grind my teeth. I always hated it when Tony put on theatrics. He used it as a cover for what he was actually feeling and thinking, and it drove me insane.
“Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where… Sokovia.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room as Tony angrily opened a bottle of pills. I glanced around at the others and saw pain, pity and regret.
“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” I winced at Tony’s derogatory tone, watching as my best friend popped in a painkiller and chugged some coffee to chase it down. I was only just now realising what a mess he really was.
I glanced over towards Steve, watching as he glanced down at the book in his hands, clearly warring with himself.
“There's no decision-making process here.” Tony’s tone was definite as he came to stand before us, his arms crossed over his chest. “We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundaryless, we're no better than the bad guys.”
“Tony, if someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve told the agitated man, his voice even and sure.
“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony shot back, his eyebrows raising.
“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame,” Steve answered, his face sincere.
I zoned out the voices as I glanced from one Superhero to the other, the tension growing in my stomach. Once again my mind was already racing ahead, predicting the outcomes from this dispute. And I didn’t like what I was coming up with.
Tony’s next remark broke through my thought process as it came very close to what I was already thinking. “If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty.”
Wanda spoke up from her position next to me, her voice wavering a little and her accent thicker than normal. “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”
Vision immediately spoke up. “We would protect you.” He glanced at Wanda, the affection that only appeared around the witch, evident in his expression.
I gripped Wanda’s arm tightly, the thought of her being taken from the compound finally tipping me over the edge. I’d had enough.
“Right, you and you,” I interrupted whatever Nat had started saying, pointing an accusing finger at Tony and Steve. “With me now!”
My tone left no room for argument, as I stood and stormed out onto the balcony, holding the door open. Silently, without question, Tony and Steve followed, while the rest watched curiously.
I pettily used wind to slam the door shut behind the two men as I stalked over to the glass balustrade. I turned and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the two Superheroes before me.
“Right, you two need to stop right this minute,” I huffed angrily, glaring at them.
“But..” Both opened their mouths to speak, fingers pointing at the other accusingly.
“No buts,” I said firmly. “That team in there relies on both of you, BOTH OF YOU, to show them where they need to go. And if you’re fighting and squabbling like children it’s going to end the Avengers. Do you hear me?” I leant forward and stared into their eyes, making sure they saw that I was deadly serious.
Both men sighed and their shoulders sagged as they took in what I was saying.
“What do you suggest we do?” Tony asked, starting to pace the length of the balcony. “Mr Always-right and I aren’t going to see eye-to-eye on this.”
“Do you know what both of your problems are?” I asked rhetorically, spreading my hands out before me.
“Please, enlighten us,” Steve responded unnecessarily, one eyebrow quirked in amusement.
“You are both looking at this in Black and White and it's not that simple. You need to start looking at the grey areas.”
“I don’t like grey area’s,” Steve’s said warningly, telling me he thought I meant outside the law.
“No, not like that,” I explained to him exasperatingly, running a hand over my forehead. “I mean compromise.”
“Compromise?” They said in unison like it was the most foreign word they had ever heard.
“Yes, compromise,” I repeated, feeling like I was talking to a brick wall. Two, very good looking but completely thick and uncooperative, brick walls.
“Listen, we have made mistakes, okay, that's true. And yes maybe we do need some oversight like Vision said. But,” I held up a hand to stop Steve before he could argue. “But I don’t believe a panel and a book of rules are going to let the Avengers do the work they need to. So, compromise.”
I looked at both of them expectantly, leaning back against the rails and waiting for their suggestions.
Tony and Steve just looked at each other, their faces masks of uncertainty, neither one willing to give up on their ideals.
“Fine, do I have to do everything?” I muttered under my breath, standing up straight. “I would maybe suggest to the UN that, instead of a panel, they assign the Avengers a Liaison Agent, someone who can monitor what we do, in a non-invasive way, and can advise us of the UN’s suggestions when crisis’ come up. However, we maintain the last say on where we do and do not go. Does that make sense?”
I was now the one feeling a headache creeping up into my temples and I massaged them as I watched the boys consider my words.
“And what about ramifications, consequences for our actions?” Tony asked, his brow furrowed in thought.
I shrugged, not really having thought that part through. “I don’t know. I mean, something like what happened in Lagos was an accident. No one could have predicted it and I don’t believe Wanda should be punished for it!” I was staring at Tony the entire time I spoke, gauging his reaction.
“Tony, do you believe that what you started, that the Avengers as a team, make this world a safer place? Have we done that? Can we keep doing it? Or would you rather ‘put us in check’, as you worded it?” I stood right in front of him making sure he kept eye contact with me, my face sincere and open.
He stared down at me and I finally saw the hurt and pain that was eating him up inside.
“Oh, Tony,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and hanging on tight. His arms twined around my back and he hid his face in my shoulder, his breathing uneven.
“We can’t save everyone, no matter how hard we try,” I whispered in his ear. “If we can’t find a way to live with that, next time we might not save anyone.” It was something that Steve had said to me several times and I knew that it was what Tony needed to hear.
Tony pulled back and I smoothed back his hair, resting my hands on his cheeks. He gave me a small smile. “Thank you, angel,” he said quietly.
“I’m here for you, always,” I replied, reaching up on my tippy-toes and kissing him on the cheek.
Tony turned towards Steve and extended a hand. “Compromise?”
Steve gave a genuine smile and grasped the offered hand. “Compromise.”
“Well, maybe one of the delinquents inside have an idea for consequences,” Tony said, looking through the glass at the rest of our team sitting, watching the whole thing unfold outside. He strode towards the door but I stopped him before he got too far.
“Hey, why were you so set on these Accords? And don’t tell me it was because you were feeling guilty, because I know that that's not all of it.”
Tony looked down at his feet, his hands fiddling with his glasses. He looked up and grimaced, knowing I wouldn’t stop until I had the truth.
“Pepper and I are…” he paused and then rushed forwards. “Are taking a break.”
“Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry.” I lay a hand on his forearm.
“A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA… and then Ultron. My fault. And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don't wanna stop. I don't wanna lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference…”
“You wanted to be put in check,” I finished for him. He nodded slowly, his eyes on the horizon above my head.
“Hey.” I caught his attention, making him look at me. “I’m here to keep you in check, okay. I won’t let you go crazy!”
He smiled at me wryly. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
He gave one more smile before opening the doors and disappearing inside. I sighed and turned towards Steve.
The Captain was leaning against the railing, looking at me over his shoulder.
I walked across the deck, resting my arms next to his on the railing, only an inch of space between us.
“Sooo,” I drew out the word, looking out onto the horizon deliberately avoiding his gaze.
He chuckled and looked at me sideways. “Compromise, huh?”
“Yep,” I answered, turning so I was facing him. My expression turned serious. “We have to Steve. Otherwise, the Avengers will be ripped apart and I can’t let that happen. You guys are the only family I have.”
Steve twisted so he was looking at me straight on. He smiled, his whole face lighting up. “You are amazing!”
I immediately blushed, looking down at my toes but despite my embarrassment, I heard myself say, “Yes I know!”
This startled a laugh out of the Superhero in front of me. I looked up and our eyes met. An undeniable feeling, one I had fought for a while, crept up from my stomach and lodged in my throat.
Slowly, I stood on my tippy-toes and pressed my lips to his. He stiffened, surprised at first but then relaxed into the kiss, his hands threading through my hair and holding my head tightly to kiss.
We broke the kiss but stayed centimetres apart, breathing heavily.
“So, that happened,” Steve said eventually, his mouth curled up into a soft smile.
“Finally,” I muttered. “It was about time. Do I need to do everything around here?”
Steve’s response was to press his lips back to mine, this kiss not at all slow or gentle. As I moaned at the fervour of his attack, I barely noticed the wind whipping around us or the threatening growls of thunder on the horizon.
“HEY!” A loud shout startled us apart and we looked over to the door leading inside. “Are you planning to level the building Y/N?” Nat asked calmly, pointing behind us.
A huge storm was forming on the horizon, wind howling and lightning clashing.
“Whoops,” I exclaimed, reaching inside me for my source of power and extending my hands out towards the wall of grey. Slowly the clouds melted away until the beautiful sunny spring day returned.
Steve looked over at me proudly, beaming ear to ear.
“That’s my girl!”
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