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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 7 months

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On The Hunt: Make It Work

Summary- 4.1k Alpha Steve x Little One. The funeral for the fallen Wakanda Panthers has hit you hard, having to say goodbye to Pan leaves you feeling alone. Steve does his best to be available to you, as a friend. Bucky decides finally to take care of himself and step away from the mission.

Warnings- Funeral and loss of loved ones. Angst driven chapter.

A/N- Thank you so much to everyone who reads, comments and reblogs. Those all make me want to continue this story and please know I am forever grateful for all that. Alpha Steve and Little One will always have such an important part of my heart and being able to share their story, no matter what stage they are in has been one of the greatest pleasures here. Special shout out to @readwithfrannybarnes for always editing my chapters and being happy to spitball the storyline. You are incredible babes and none of this would still be here without you. Dividers made by the talents @firefly-graphics, please go give these creators some love. Thank you all again! 🐺💙

Chapter Six / Masterlist

It was beautiful and Steve felt like an intruder among the people of Wakanda honoring the fallen. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears away as you stood behind Shuri, the afternoon sun making them glint as they tracked down your face and you openly mourned for all the loss.

Steve stood on the opposite side of the trail from you, unable to reach for you while the fallen panthers were being carried towards their final resting place.

The Alpha rumbled his displeasure at the distance, Steve ignoring him. Already he felt guilty that all he felt was relief that it wasn’t you. He let his head bow while the cries rose up around him, silence gripping him.

<You don’t have to feel guilty about that relief.> The Alpha finally settled on being able to see that you were okay. Upset you were still so far away and in so much emotional pain that he could practically taste it on the air. Now and then your gaze would meet his, your sorrow-filled eyes eliciting his baser instincts to take care of you. It was a struggle Steve somehow maintained his composure.

If I wasn’t there or Pan, she wouldn’t be. If I didn’t make it in time to snap Bucky out of it… A sigh rose up from his chest finally.

This time.

Then there was that unspoken thing that neither the Alpha nor Steve had brought up although it was right there. Bucky.

Bucky was unstable, his trauma with Brock and Hydra making him and his Beast unstable. Steve honestly couldn’t say how much longer he would be able to contain Bucky with his Alpha command since Bucky in his own right was an Alpha and he was choosing to concede to Steve. But there would be a day the White Wolf was too far gone in the memories and would Steve be strong enough to keep him alive till he snapped out of it?

These were problems that as an alpha he shouldn’t hesitate on, but he was.

Right now Steve longed for the days he and his Little One ran the Pack’s trails when his world for a short time was all about chasing his pretty mate like the predator he was.

You managed to slip away as the ceremonies ended and more intimate mourning among families would take place, everyone else withdrawing to give them privacy at the resting place. You longed for the freedom the Little Wolf brought you and seriously considered shifting, but with so many feelings heightened, you didn’t think it was safe to do.

She would call for her mate and then this time you and Steve might be in an even harder situation than the two of you were in now. You told him to back off and he has, ever since being here he has tried his hardest to give you space until your Little Wolf called for him. Yes, he left the gift after the run, those barriers you were struggling so hard with had been blurred in those moments.

Till you slammed them back up.

The whole funeral, you tried not to look over, to focus completely on who you were having to say goodbye to. But it was impossible not to glance at Steve, for so long he had been the one who you depended on when the hard moments built up, your safety was in his touch and words, he was what you leaned into when holding your head up high was almost impossible. The separation between the two of you was not just the physical distance, constantly you were expecting the familiar brush of the Alpha to twirl through your mind, encase your Little Wolf in his strength and calmness while she and you were so distraught.

But it was hollow, that bond although gone for a while now was still an aching hollow in you. You couldn’t take it, so the moment it was appropriate, you retreated. Your goodbye to Pan couldn’t be done here, where you were so exposed and alone feeling.

Wakanda was expansive, far bigger than any of the Pack’s lands, and escaping was easy enough to do. T’Challa gave you the freedom you craved since the moment you arrived. Right now you needed the salt air and waves around you, the quiet that came into your mind with the thundering ocean trying to claim the sand. It was where you stayed when you first arrived broken in Wakanda, begging T’Challa to let you hunt with them. You couldn’t with your pack any longer, but maybe here you could make a difference.

T’Challa welcomed you but insisted on taking time to rest and regain your strength, letting you live on the beach in Wakanda till you had at least recovered from your physical injuries.

Your heartbreak stayed, but you managed to hide it in the hunt for the panthers.

Although it would have been quicker to run, you chose the strain of walking yourself towards the beach, the sun working its way down toward the horizon, your first steps on the warm sand were the beginning of the stars blinking into the sky.

“We should have shared more sunsets together, Pan.” You said softly, knowing the ocean would carry your words away. “But thank you for the ones we did share.” More tears slipped, but they soon dried like the air had kissed them away.

Even with your Little Wolf, curled in your mind and always a presence, her silence made you feel alone. Your arms circled around you as you settled into the sand. The loneliness was some of the worst moments in your recollection. As a wolf, you craved that connection with your packmates. Even when you were with Pierce, you had others with you, until you experienced the heartbreak of them having been sold to whoever was supposed to be their future mates. Those nights you learned to survive, but the ache it brought to your chest was similar to now.

It was always having to say goodbye.

When it was Steve, you felt this too. The way your chest would tighten till the ache settled in your bones, the pain, a physical thing, a throbbing that soon overtook you when you realized he wasn’t coming back to you. That was the night your heart broke, feeling that you were actually completely alone for the first time ever.

You were lost in your thoughts and it wasn’t till your Little Wolf perked did you realized that you weren’t alone.

His scent, the smell of pine forests and metal made you inhale deeply, your eyes closing as Steve drifted closer. You sought the brief feeling Steve brought.

You sensed his movements before you saw him settling in the sand next to you in silence, only a quick glance from his gaze flashed over you while you continued to stare at the waves on the shore. Your Little Wolf chirped softly at the comfort his scent brought to your painfully tight chest.

“Do you want me to leave Y/N?”

You let your head shake in a no, not trusting yourself to speak quite yet. You continued staring ahead at the last of the sun stretching in the sky. The last thing you wanted was to be alone.

“Thank you… I just… needed to make sure you were okay after everything.” He too watched the scene before him, the breeze from the wind shifting through the sun-streaked strands of his hair, longer than you had ever seen it before. “I never did tell you about my time in Howling Commandos.” He said softly, pushing his bare feet into the sand till they were covered, still staring ahead as he spoke.

You thought about his words and gave a shake of your head. “No, you never told me much beyond what happened with Bucky.”

Steve sighed a bit and tilted his head back as if to clear his mind. “It’s still hard for me to talk about the years before I was the pack’s alpha.” He went quiet again for a moment, the ocean breeze was dancing across the sand, a refreshing salty tang that you both appreciated for a moment. The Little Wolf unfurled, aching to be closer to Steve. You held tight, but you did break that silence.

“Tell me Steve. I want to know.”

“The first year I was Captain of the unit we were sent deep into a rogue territory. I was unprepared for the trap that was set for us. All I remember is the ping of shots missing targets. The ground was exploding around us. I ordered for us to fall back. I remained at the back of the retreating line, making sure I was the last one out. A bullet that should have gotten me clipped one of my men.”

You inhaled sharply, feeling the similarities, your own anger and sadness coming in a wave of grief before it settled in your gut as heavy as a stone.

“He was gone before he even went down, I was able to catch him and drag him out. That was the first time I lost someone like that, he was a friend, we trained together, and had become brothers in those months at camp doing drills.”

You shuddered listening to him, the Little Wolf whined at Steve’s grief still heavily laced in his tone. You buried your feet into the sand to let the grains grit against your skin, help ground yourself in this conversation. You snuck another look at Steve, letting your gaze linger on his profile as he silently mourned the shifter that lived in his memories now. His hair was wind-tossed now, the golden strands sweeping back before settling again, and his eyes were lifted still towards the ocean as if he couldn’t pull away from it. But his tanned face was taunt. The lines deep in his sorrow and his mouth a thin line among the shagginess of his beard. You ached at the sight, and wanted to reach over to smooth the lines away.

And you wanted to soak in it, let him live through his memories as they kept his Howling Commando brother alive, even if it caused him pain. “What was his name?”

Steve broke his stare at the ocean to blink at you, the rim of his eyes red but he gave a little smile at his thoughts. “Private Jonathan Juniper. But we just called him Junior as he was the youngest of us. His wolf was playful when we worked that way, when you would run on the beach, you reminded me of him actually.” Steve sniffled then, running the back of his hand against his eyes before turning back to the ocean.

The Little Wolf nudged at you to move closer, Steve’s scent was so sad, a bitterness tinging his usual wild forest and metal scent. Her whines got persistent till she broke into soft howls to sing for him. “Thank you Steve, for sharing your story.”

A soft nod came from him. “I should have told you before Y/N, shared more of myself with you. For so long I believed I had to be withdrawn, and show nothing but power. Alanna, she would see anything like this as too beta-minded and weak, open for an attack, back then I thought she was trying to make me the strongest Alpha I could be, I was a fool for not seeing her for what she was..” His gaze turned towards you now, his blue eyes red-rimmed from the day, but open to all of you. “I forgot that you needed more of that from me, to be open and honest, to communicate with you.”

You wished that too, for you thought of the few times you had caught him waking from a nightmare, disappearing out onto the deck to brood in his thoughts, the only time he would break out a pack of cigarettes. You would watch him silently from your nest, the glowing red cherry of his smoke bright till he finished. Then he would always come back to you. You never pushed him to tell you, afraid of upsetting your Alpha, but would just curl up against him, hoping that your needing him would help ease that pain. Maybe you should have pushed for him to talk more, feeling that at times you failed to be entirely the mate Steve needed.

Both of us failed.

Your Little Wolf continued her song, even if she couldn’t send it into his mind like you once could, you loved your wolf in that moment for needing to sing for him.

<We didn’t fail Y/N. Our Alpha didn’t fail.> Warmth for the first time in a while filled your mind, your Little Wolf brushing against you with reassurance. <We are all learning after being used for so long.>

You decided to move closer, and you shifted into Steve’s side, his warmth seeped into you and quietly he lifted his arm to circle your shoulders and let you lean into him. “Does it ever get any easier Steve?” You whispered while your head went on his shoulder.

“It sinks deep and dulls in the way you feel it as a part of you.” You felt the brush of his chin against the crown of your head but then it was gone again and you missed the touch. “Do you want to tell me about Pan?”

You gave a shake of your head, that pain hadn’t sunk deep, was still as sharp as panther claws slicing through you. “Not yet.”

“Okay Y/N.” He hugged you to his side a bit more. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Me too Steve.” You both fell into silence, sharing the moon rising above the ocean together.

It was late when Steve walked you back to the palace, the entire place eerily quiet as they made their way to their wing. The marble floors led them just outside their bedroom doors. Steve felt his Alpha stirring, knowing this truce was possibly coming to an end. His palms felt clammy as his touch hovered close to the small of your back, where he would never hesitate before to guide you towards the door, he did now.

The Alpha snorted at his unsureness, but Steve ignored his wolf. You told him to stop treating you like you two were together.

For him, it was second nature to be like that with you.

<Reach out to her.> The big Alpha finally broke, his impatience filtering in his urgency to be with you. <She is so upset and in pain> His whine broke through his impatience, his ears flattening against his skull as he sank low, mimicking just how Steve was feeling as well.

“Y/N… if you need anything or just… need a friend, please just come over.” Your hand hovered at your door, before folding on yourself and turning to lean your back against the door. You looked tired, your eyes heavy with your grief. Steve felt the need to go over and envelope you into his hold so you could lean on him. He mimicked your move though, keeping the space between the both of you.

His Alpha growled at this.

“I will if I need a friend.” You gave a small smile of thanks, your gaze shifting over him. Steve felt the way you were checking him out, the changes in him since the two of you were together. But you said nothing, instead your gaze fell to Bucky’s door. “Steve… What is going to happen with Bucky?” Your tone is soft with worry for your packmate.

Steve felt the lie of assurance rise up, wanting to give his Little One the safety in thinking it was all going to work out for Bucky. But he couldn’t do it, it was time to be truthful in how worried he was with you. “We will continue trying to help him, but Y/N I don’t know how long the Alpha command will bring him back from his trauma. Every time it happens, it's worse than before.”

Your jaw clenched as you inhaled, letting what Steve was saying sink in. There might come a time where the White Wolf couldn’t come out of it and he would have to be stopped.

Steve couldn’t say it, but from the expression on your face, he knew you put it together. You wiped at your eyes quickly and inhaled sharply, composing yourself. Steve watched you go from grief-stricken to an Alpha’s mate, calm and assuredness sliding over your features. You made the step to approach Steve, your hands moving to rest against the wide expanse of his chest.

His eyes closed to soak in the feeling of your warmth and touch, the way your soft scent curled around him and filled his senses with comfort and peace. “Take your own advice Steve, talk to Bucky and see what he wants. Goodnight.”

He felt you pull away, all the warmth and comfort pulling away with you and when he reopened his eyes, you were slipping into your door. All he felt was hollow again.

“Bucky, are you sure about this?” You asked him, wanting that confirmation of what he was telling you and Steve.

“Y/N, I almost attacked you.” His rough voice rumbled as he glanced at you, his massive arms folded across his chest, almost protectively. “If Steve wasn’t nearby, you might not be here discussing this today.”

You bared your teeth at him in a warning. “Don’t think I wouldn’t have-”

“Escaped me? Y/N, it’s facts that you wouldn’t have. I would have overpowered you.” From the other side of the room, Steve rumbled his own growl, the Alpha taking Bucky’s abruptness as a threat. You ignored Steve, your eyes narrowing at Bucky.

“If you could catch me.” You sassed at Buck and he huffed a small laugh, the seriousness in his face softening slightly.

“Maybe. Regardless, I’m staying here, to get help recovering.” He looked between you and Steve. “While you two finish this for the Panthers, maybe get some sort of direction to go for Hydra.”

You missed the unspoken words between the two men, but they both seemed to have settled on this choice. You sighed a bit but reached out to take Bucky’s hand, squeezing his palm. “Okay.” You said with finality, glancing at Steve that he was with you in this. “We support you, stay here and heal.” Your arms lifted around Bucky, pulling him in against you. This time Steve stayed silent across the room. “Both of you.” Your forehead fell to Bucky’s, staring intently into his stormy blue eyes, knowing in their depths the White Wolf was somewhere, staring right back at you.

“You got it, Little Wolf.” Bucky gave a gentle assuring smile, even though it wavered. He gave one last squeeze of affection and let you go. “You two finish this for me, yeah?”

Steve gave a nod, followed by you. It was settled, it was just going to be you and Steve.

That made your heart beat in a slight panic, but the Little Wolf, she was as calm as ever in your mind.

How am I supposed to hunt with just Steve?

T’Challa planted you and Steve in the outskirts of London, far from what you were expecting Ulysses to have been followed too. But T’Challa insisted this time the intel was solid, all picked up from Shuri’s drone having been able to tag him.

Steve was skeptical, which you had to agree with after the last incident. T’Challa told you both in confidence that the panther responsible for before was being currently questioned. You trusted T’Challa, and although Steve wasn’t so ready to agree, he was choosing to trust you in this. You could see in his stance, the way doubt crossed his features that he was discussing everything T’Challa told them with the Alpha, debating about it. But his gaze fell to you and it seemed to settle it for him. “If Y/N trusts you, then I do as well.”

It shocked you for a moment.

The safe house you would be using was simple and had all the essentials needed for a long-term stay and as soon as you and Steve went over every inch of the apartment to make sure it wasn’t compromised, you were ready to go out into the streets. Your bags were ditched in one of the two bedrooms, and you started rummaging through it to change your outfit, something more conspicuous than where they were now.

You had to get out, the whole plane ride, then the car that picked you two up had you and Steve close together. Once upon a time, you would have soaked in him in, the way your thigh had pressed against his in the backseat of the car, the heavy alpha scent of him filling your space, it was intoxicating and now distracting. Your Little Wolf whined for more of it, to wrap into him, climb in his lap, and grind against him. Your body hummed with want for him, the oncoming heat starting to peak dangerously now. You still refused the pills, sure that when the day finally arrived, you would be able to manage it.

Positive you could, after all, you have survived all the others without Steve. If he even noticed the changes in you, he was sure to ignore them, that would have crossed one of those set boundaries of just friends.

Now you weren’t so sure, your body felt far too sensitive, your emotions heightened and betraying you. Getting outside and working was your best safety right now.

Shuri had been sure to supply you with plenty of weather appropriate clothes. Long gone were the shorts and tanks that you lived in while staying in Wakanda. You got yourself dressed into jeans, tee and a jacket, sure that it had a hood for cover, sneakers were strapped to your feet, nice and flexible for sprinting around the city.

You popped out into the hallway, yelling for Steve. “I will be right back.”

As you headed for the door, you sensed Steve stepping out of his room, the hesitancy that lingered around him, something you only recently sensed in him. His tone was soft-spoken but graveled in his worried way. “Can I come with you?”

It made your step falter, your hand on the handle as you paused hearing him. The Little Wolf perked, her ears lifting as his question repeated in your mind. <He isn’t demanding Y/N.>

I expected a fight from him. You admitted and the Little Wolf unwound herself from the tight protective ball she typically rested in now that she was alone to observe what was going to happen next. <He is honoring your need for space. You know he wants to come and hunt with us.>

Your head dipped a second, eyes closing as you focused on your Wolf. We can be this way with him. It almost sounded like you were convincing yourself, all the while your body screamed at allowing him in your space, wanting and craving what being with Steve would give you.

The irony of it all didn’t escape you that this was what you had wanted all along from Steve and now he was asking for it after turning you away. You felt your back straighten, your eyes flaring with that touch of anger you had still towards your ex-mate as you glanced over your shoulder at him.

He was still waiting for your answer, and it was easy to see on his face that his request’s similarities hadn't escaped his notice too, the wariness was all over his features in what you would say. That he would be accepting of being rejected. You refused to let your shared past dictate your future, his stubbornness and refusal to open up become part of a vengeful side of you today.

“You know we always hunt better together.” Your hand lifted away from the handle, twisting yourself to lean against the door and fold your arms over your chest. “You have five minutes to get ready, Alpha.” You teased, a small accepting smile making your features lighten.

“I only need four minutes.” Steve ducked back into the bedroom and you barked out a sharp laugh, huffing out loudly.

“Yeah Steve, I’ve heard that before.” You continued your teasing, feeling yourself starting to loosen up once again and that maybe you and Steve could be okay as just friends after all.

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orangeboulevard · 2 months

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Seven: Climb (Venom!Reader x AndrewGarfield!Spiderman)

Summary: Peter Parker should know that anything can go wrong will go wrong on his patrols.

Word Count: 578

"I do not understand you!" A voice with an odd inflection and guttural tone bombarded Peter's ears.

"We can't just eat anyone, okay? Why is that so hard to understand?"

Peter noted a different voice, its sound was much kinder to Peter's intensified hearing but its actual words left him stupefied. Peter Parker, clad in his Spider-Man costume, had been absentmindedly scaling the side of a building on his patrol when he found himself eavesdropping on a very unusual conversation.

"You said 'bad people', he was clearly a bad person, he was stealing!" The first voice argued.

"Stealing baby wipes and diapers! We don't eat people like that." Peter had to keep himself from leaping from the wall, there were cannibals on that rooftop! Cannibalism is definitely on his list of no-nos.

"Human morals are too complicated to understand. My own race follows no such stupid rules, it is as your Darwin would say 'survival of the fittest'."

"That's why you're on Earth because you're definitely not the fittest-" This statement was met with an indignified roar that almost made Peter shit himself. "-And how do you even know about Darwin?... Have you been on the internet again!?"

"..."

"I told you no web surfing while I sleep!" "It is very boring! I cannot help myself!" "I can't believe you!"

Peter had heard enough damning evidence to bring these people in, the strange and sick cannibals that they were, so with a swift movement- he launched himself up and landed on the roof. Oddly, he only found one person instead of two. He tilted his head and almost jumped back in sheer fear as the person transformed into a dark towering beast.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Aw, is the little spider afraid? You should be. The tasty meal that you are."

"There will be no eating or snacking of any kind, thank you very much!" Peter squeaked out, feeling very much out of his depth with this new adversary.

The huge creature scrambled towards him on all fours eliciting an unmanly shriek from the young man as he flung himself out of reach of it. It turned to follow him but before it could, it transformed back into the recognisable shape of a human. Peter let out a shaky breath as you held your hands up.

"Sorry, sorry! Spider-Man, right? Aw, man. I'm a huge fan. Sucks we have to meet like this." Peter felt whiplash at the difference in the interactions, he couldn't respond with how perplexed and dumbfounded he was.

A serpentine black sludge erupted from your neck, it curled around to face you, and all of its razor-sharp white fangs were born, "I am hungry, I do not care about who Spider-Man is or your attraction to him!"

You splutter, face heating up, "What? No, I'm not- such slander! How preposterous!"

Peter ran a gloved hand down his face before leaping down to be face to face with you, "I'm sorry but what the hell is going on right now? What IS that? Do you have a sentient tapeworm?"

"TAPEWORM?"

"Sorry! Not a tapeworm, sorry!"

You cough and stuff your hands into your pockets, and you begin to ramble, "He's just an alien, picked him up a while ago, and he's just uhh carnivorous. Don't take me to the police, please, you're so sexy ahaha."

Peter tilted his head in confusion.

#fanfic #fanfition #humor #one shot #ficlet #marvel #gender neutral reader #venom symbiote #venom reader #reader x peter parker

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hoefortonks · 1 year

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Little Jackal & Mr. Knight

Chapter 2: A package

Title: A package

Pairing(s): Steven Grant x teen/young adult!avatar OC, Marc Spector x teen/young adult!avatar OC, Jake Lockley x teen/young adult!avatar OC (all platonic)

Summary: after moving to London trying to start over, Mae finds herself meeting someone, or rather people, who help her cope with her past.

Warnings: language, canon typical violence, mentions of death/descriptions of dead bodies, mentions of blood, OC has gen Z humor (I feel like this should be a warning considering the stuff we joke abt), probably grammatical errors, written by a dyslexic, proofreadish

Word count:4k+

(Master list) (part 1)

The man woke with a start, instantly regretting his choice, as the aches and pains of his body quickly caught up to him. With a groan, he rose to his feet, walking towards the mirror of the bathroom.

“Steven, you wanna tell me why we just woke up on the floor of the shower?”

I dunno, mate, I was about to ask you the same. The man’s reflection snapped back in defense.

“Then how the fuck did we end up here? Huh? Cause it was your day yesterday, even though we agreed I had control on your days off from work.” Marc hissed, pointing an accusatory finger at the man standing where his own reflection should be.

I truly don’t know, Marc. Are you sure you weren’t just having too much fun with some of your lifestyle choices? Steven sassed back. We also wouldn’t be having these bloody headaches if I had the body more often. He added in a low mumble.

“You have the body 5 out of 7 days! 5! I can’t even do what I fully want to. And you took my day yesterday! You said all you were gonna do was get your groceries and stuff for the fishes, and you didn’t even do that! Instead, you chose to do gods know what, then helped out that 12-year-old, and ended up staying in her apartment for the rest of the night!”

First off, Mae is 18, and second I didn’t get to do any of my errands because you decided to take control in the middle of the day!

“I didn’t take control, Steven! What are you not understanding about that?” Marc was continuously running his hands through his hair, further tussling his already messy curls. Pacing the length of the small bathroom of the men’s apartment.

Marc, I don’t think you’re understanding. If I didn’t have control, and you didn’t have control. Then what the bloody hell did we do for 6-hours yesterday?

Marc stopped all movement, hand halfway through his curls for the 50th time since waking up, staring at Steven in the mirror. Steven looked at him expectantly, a look of concern present on his features.

“You don’t think-“

It’s possible.

“But how would we not know?”

Think back to Cairo, the same thing was happening there, only there aren’t bodies laid around us this time.

“But we would know about another alter. I would know about another alter.” Marc was growing frustrated.

Maybe not. Think about it, Layla said it was like we were a different person when it happened. It’s the only explanation, Marc.

“No, no it’s not pos-“ Marc was interrupted by the sound of his tv turning on.

The men both looked at each other, and Marc grabbed the closest item to him, that being his toilet paper holder, as a weapon. Carelessly tossing the paper roll off its resting place, Marc crept out of his bathroom, ready to attack. Fixing his tight grip on the piece of metal, he brought it up close to his head, ready to swing as he dashed to where his tv was.

No one was there.

Not letting his guard down, Marc quickly searched every inch of his apartment. Looking in every possible hiding spot, kicking, punching, and swinging the toilet paper holder at objects that looked as if someone was using them as a poorly-thought-out hiding spot.

The tv, once again, caught his attention. Walking back to his living area, he grabbed the remote from the coffee table, raising the volume. “This just in, the bodies of 37-year-old Marsha Keeten, and 20-year-old Daniel Bennings, we're found just 4 blocks from the London Eye. Marsha was found with a total of 26 stab wounds, while Daniel, well I'm not able to say his condition on live television. Witnesses say there was a masked figure in all-black with a white cape leaving the scene. The question is, was this the so-called Phantom of London? Or was it a new masked person, with a much more sinister intent?”

“Fucking hell,” Marc breathlessly said, staring dumbfounded at the screen.

Do you think it's another Avatar? Think Khonsu found another one already?

“It's possible.”

“Okay, I get it, we both have black suits, but that person was obviously much taller than me,” Mae grumbled staring dumbfounded at her television.

Remember, little Jackal, they only had a picture of you, and it was not the best quality at that.

“Whose avatar are they?”

Khonsu’s.

“Were you able to see his symbol on their suit?”

No, Mae looked at the god, brows furrowed in confusion. I saw him.

“You saw Khonsu?” She only received a nod, “how come I didn’t?”

Avatars can only see those whom they serve. You can see me, and Khonsu’s avatar can see him, but that is it. It takes a great deal of power and energy for us to have a physical form, let alone just show ourselves to those who don’t serve us.

The girl hummed in understanding before asking, “why do you think they were after them? I mean Marsha- Marsha was her name right?” Anubis only nodded as he sat crisscrossed on Mae’s kitchen island, which lead the girl to stifle a laugh at the look of the massive god sitting on the tiny piece of the added counter. “She had Ammit’s symbol as a tattoo. Now I’m not saying she deserved to die, but I can see why she was targeted by Khonsu’s avatar. But Daniel? And his murder was brutal.” She said with a grim expression on her face, stomach starting to churn as scenes from last night started to replay in her head.

Miss Keeten was one of Ammit’s followers. She was trying to finish what Arthur Harrow started, judging people, though she does not harness the power of Ammit. Daniel was just the first person she chose.

“You’re telling me she did that to him?”

Yes, and luckily the Moon Knight was there before anything else could happen. Anubis picked up on how anxious Mae was getting, choosing to pick a new topic of discussion. Have you checked for any packages recently?

“Hm?” The girl lightly hummed coming out of a daze. “What?”

I asked if you have received any packages as of late. The god’s voice was calm and as gentle as he could make it, which wasn’t very gentle, but he tried.

“Oh, no, but I don’t think they deliver anything on Sundays.”

I believe they still do packages. Why don't we go and check?

Mae didn’t question him, knowing he was trying to distract her from her thoughts. She got her phone and key and left the apartment, making sure the door was locked, twice.

Taking the stairs was faster than taking the elevator, it helped clear her head going down each step, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a cable snapping, making her fall to her death in a metal box. As she opened the door to the stairwell a thud was heard followed by a groan. She quickly looked behind the block of metal. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” She apologizes as she sees someone bent down picking up their laundry that had fallen to the floor. She didn’t know whether to help them or not seeing as it was their clothing and she didn’t want to anger them even more.

The man quickly picked up everything, never facing Mae, grumbling to himself about people needing to watch where they're going, before heading to the complex’s laundry room.

Do not think too much about them, Mae, let us go see if you have a package.

The girl nodded and proceeded to the front desk. “Good morning Glen.” she greeted the tall man with the brightest smile she could muster at that hour of the morning.

“Ah! Good morning miss Kyng!” He took in the girl's appearance, “didn't go to church this morning?”

“Nah I was too tired today.” the man nodded in understanding with his usual kind smile. “Did any packages come for me this past week? I forgot to check.”

“Yes, actually one just came. Hold on a moment.” Glen bent down looking at each of the three shelves behind his desk. “Ah! Here it is.” he poked his head up, before standing to his full height, holding a box that was about the size of Mae’s torso alone. “This one's a bit bigger, do you think you could carry it by yourself?”

“Uh, yeah, I think I can manage.” She said as she slid the box off the front desk, doing her best to hide the fact that it was too heavy for her. She made her way to the elevator, and as if on cue someone rounded the corner, coming from the laundry area. Focusing on not dropping the package in her hands, Mae almost bumped into the person. She looked up when she felt the person brush her arm, alerting her to their presence. “I'm sorry.” she apologized even though she hadn't done anything. Looking up, her lips curled into a smile at the sight of a familiar face. “Oh, hey Steven.”

He didn't say anything or even acknowledge she was there, which confused the girl. Is it not him? She wondered. The elevator doors opened with a ding before she could get lost in her thoughts. He stepped in first. Mae saw in the mirror that is in the elevator that it was, in fact, Steven further confusing her. He glanced to the left looking at the other mirror in the box. Mae cautiously stepped into the elevator, thinking she somehow upset her friend.

As the doors closed the two stood awkwardly. Steven hit the button for both the 5th and 4th floor, indicating he did see her but was just ignoring her. The elevator started to move, and Mae’s mind got the best of her. “Are you mad at me?” She blurted out, looking up at Steven. He looked to his right at the mirror next to him. After a few seconds of silence, his shoulders slumped a bit, and he looked less tense. “Steven?”

He turned to the teenager, “oh! Hello Mae.” He said with a soft smile.

“Hi?”

“How are you doing today?”

“Good?” Mae was confused. Did he really not see her there? “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just-“ she bit the inside of her cheek. Should she ask him? If he was mad at her she didn’t want to make it worse by pushing. “Never mind.” She mumbled.

Steven felt bad, he told Marc to take the stairs. When he asked him to have control, knowing Mae would want to talk, the man just grumbled. Marc felt bad too, he saw how Mae’s face lit up when she saw them. But he knew he couldn’t acknowledge her, knowing she would pick up that he wasn't Steven, even if he faked an accent. Both the men picked up very quickly that Mae was the observant type, she could pick up on the little things that not many people would notice. They both knew that she would be able to tell if she wasn’t talking to Steven.

Steven had tried many times to convince Marc to let Mae meet him, saying she was going to meet him at some point whether it was an accident or not. But Marc didn't know Mae, he wasn’t friends with her. How was he supposed to trust someone with a secret like this if he didn’t know them, let alone them know of his existence? Even if he is the owner of the body.

Not being able to stand the awkwardness of the ride, Marc gave into Steven’s begging to front. “What’d you got there?” Steven tried to break the silence.

“A box.” Mae quietly replied.

Steven chuckled, “well I can see that.” He looked at the rather large cardboard object. “Is that a postcard on top?”

“Yea,” she was a bit louder than before.

Mae, he’s not mad at you.

“Would you like help to carry it? It looks a bit heavy.”

Mae opened her mouth, do not even think about rejecting his offer young lady. Anubis sternly said.

Mae mentally scowled at the god. “I wouldn’t want to bug you.”

“Nonsense, Mae, you could never bug me.” Steven gave the girl a comforting look.

A small smile crept its way back onto her face and she handed him the box. The girl was shocked watching as Steven carried it as if it weighed little to nothing, casually walking to her door.

Entering the apartment Mae disappeared into her room area as Steven put the box on the kitchen island. She returned with a box knife in hand and hopped on the counter, sitting crisscrossed next to the box.

It took everything in Steven to not chastise the girl for sitting on the counter seeing as this was her home.

Mae took the postcard off the box before cutting it open. “You can look in the box while I read the card if you want.” She offered the man, which he excepted.

“Dear Mae,

I’m sorry this one is coming to you late, I had a little trouble on the 19th of the month, postponing my travels. Don’t worry everything is alright now. I have made it safely to Brazil, and have even met some friends on the way. It’s beautiful here, honestly, words can’t describe its beauty. Maybe we can come here together one day, they have Carnival in February so we will need to go then. I have a feeling you would quite like the celebration. As you will see I put some snacks that I found here that I think you will like. As always there are trinkets I found that made me think of you. I miss you cariño, and I hope England is treating you well. I don’t know when, but I will eventually make my way to Europe, and we can get hot cocoa (if the weather calls for it). I hope to hear from you soon, I will be in Morocco by the middle of September and will (try to) text the address of where I will be staying.

With much love,-“

“What’s Bala Juquinha?”

“Don’t know,” Mae said with a shrug, going to pin this postcard with the rest on her wall.

“It looks like candy. There’s also coffee in here.”

“Brazilian coffee?!” The girl ran back to her kitchen, sliding on the hardwood in her socks, giving the god she works for a heart attack as she almost rams right into the counter. “Yes!” She exclaimed, raising the bag of coffee beans triumphantly in the air. She kissed the bag, “thank you,” she sang to the non-present sender. Steven looked at the girl amused. “He couldn’t get coffee in the last country he was in. And I’ve been dying to try Brazilian coffee.”

“And who is he? If it’s alright to ask.”

Mae thought for a second, “a friend.”

“I see, a friend,” Steven repeated with a smirk.

“Not like that Steven.” She sternly said, wagging a finger at the man.

Mae proceeded to pull everything out of the box. She had a total of five different candies, two of each kind, ten all together. A couple of shirts. A rock that kind of looked like the actor Pedro Pascal. Some pressed flowers. And three pieces of jewelry, bracelets to be exact, but what stood out to Mae out of everything was a necklace. It was made of titanium and had a pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. The box it came in was black with a navy blue velvet inside where the necklace laid. A note was placed under the dainty chain, “so you will know I’m always with you. :)” It brought a smile to the girl's face once again, and Steven helped her put it on.

For the past two weeks, everyone in London had been on edge. Especially after another three bodies had been found, two of which were trying to do Harrow's unfinished work. The third was that of another young adult male, the same age as the last victim.

Marc and Steven had grown worried. Was it their possible new alter doing this? Steven was more worried about the fact that the two victims of each attack from Ammits followers were people around Mae’s age. Worried she could be next.

Marc tries to calm his alter, telling him, “she wouldn't be in harm's way, she doesn't leave her house.”

Yes, she does Marc.

“Okay for work and grocery shopping, but we started going with her to the store. She’s fine.”

But we aren't there when she’s going to and from work. Please, just call her.

“I'm not Cal-”

Steven’s phone began to ring. Marc took it out of his pocket and stared at the device in disbelief. Who is it? Steven asked, hopping to every reflective surface in sight, trying to see the screen.

“No one,” Marc grumbled after letting it stop ringing, tucking the phone back in his pocket only to have it start ringing again.

Marc, who was it?

“It was no one, Steven.”

Was it Mae?

“No.”

It was! Marc what if it was an emergency?

“I'm sure it's not an emergency, she's fine.”

Steven’s phone now buzzed from Marc’s back pocket. The men looked at each other. “No.”

C’mon, Marc!

“No.”

Just at least look at the message.

“No, Steven, you have a problem.” The man closed the three-way mirror, though, Steven found another reflective surface.

She needs someone. Marc, I know you've noticed. Marc simply pretend as if Steven was not there. You see how she acts, how she responds to certain things. How she-

“She’s not a charity case, Steven, so don't treat her like one.” The man snapped, finally looking at his alter.

I never said she was-

“She was wondering if you could meet her at the bus stop in 20 minutes,” Marc mumbled, after pulling out Steven's phone again.

Which one?

“Closest to the complex.” Steven gives Marc a pleading look. Marc ran a hand over his face letting out a sigh. “fine you can go check on her," Steven perked up, "but don't make this an all-day thing. This’s still my day to front!” He declared, pointing a finger at the fish tank.

After texting Mae back, the men head toward their destination. Marc walked slowly so they wouldn't have to be standing in the rain for long. Why of all places did we have to pick London? He thought to himself. Marc let Steven take control as they watched the bus come to a full stop.

Slowly but surely the passengers piled out. Marc found it humorous to see all of their reactions to the torrential downpour. Their looks of horror as their clothes and hair absorb the water. Steven scolded him until a familiar mop of shoulder-length brunette curls came into view.

The girl smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry for asking you to meet me, you were probably busy.”

“Oh no, I just didn’t hear my phone ring ‘s all.” As the two made the trek back to their complex in the rain, Steven noticed Mae was tense, paranoid even, looking behind them every so often. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yea, I just-“ she looked behind them once more, “I’ll tell you when we get back to the apartments.” Steven nodded, placing a gentle hand on her upper back, calming her growing anxiety.

As the pair walk to the stairwell starting to make their way to the top two floors, Steven asked the question, “so what happened?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but I think I was being followed. I noticed someone when I went to the cafe four blocks from here that serves those really good bagels, now they’re not as good as New York bagels but close to it.”

“I’ve never had a New York bagel.”

“You’ve never had a New York bagel?!” Steven just shrugged, looking down at his neighbor. “Dude they’re so good. They’re big, not too big though, fluffy, yet they have a slight crunch. And the taste. Oh my God don't even get me started on the taste!”

Keep her on track. Marc lightly warned.

“Ya know what? We need to take a trip to New York to get you a bagel. Wait, you’re a vegan! I’m sure we can find you a vegan bagel-“

“As much as I would love to travel to New York, let’s get back to what we were talking about.”

“What were we talking about?”

Oh my god.

“Why you asked me to meet you.”

Mae’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. “Oh! I think I was being followed.” The man gave her a look indicating for her to keep going. “I first noticed her at the cafe, I obviously didn’t think much of it. But she came up to the table I was at and started talking to me. I gave her short brief answers, trying to get it across to her in the nicest way to leave me the fuck alone.”

gasp! Steven you're going to let her say a bad word?!

“But she didn’t?”

The girl stopped her climb, looking at her neighbor, puzzled. “That’s the thing. She did leave me alone, or at least I thought she did. After the cafe, I stopped at a bookstore and noticed her. I thought it might have been just a coincidence, then I went to the bank and saw her again. Then I stopped by the park cuase it was a nice day. Until it started raining, but I saw her again. Then I stopped at work cause I had left something there yesterday, and she was there too. She approached me again, only she didn’t talk, just lifted her sleeve revealing a tattoo on her upper forearm. After that, I got on the bus and left her at the museum. But there was a man on the bus, and he was staring at me. I moved seats to see if he would stop, but he moved too."

Steven's concerns grew as she went on about the guy continuing to move seats as she did. Then she mentioned him revealing a tattoo in the same place as the woman's before she called him. "What did it look like?"

"The tattoo?" the man only nodded, "Um- it was a scale of some sort, but the arm thingies that hold the weighing plates were I think crocodile heads."

shit, you were right.

"I could just be paranoid. It could've just been some crazy weird coincidence."

"I wouldn't say you were paranoid, Mae. And you did the right thing by calling someone. We don't know what or if they had something planned." Steven said as he looked down at her, gently holding her shoulders, grateful she was alright.

Mae stared off into space as Steven's words settled in. "I could've been kidnapped or-" she stated slowly, not daring to complete her thought out loud.

Mae, without realizing it, tightly wrapped her arms around Steven's waist. The man, after the initial shock, reciprocated the action, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, Meghan. I promise."

For the first time in over four years, Mae felt safe.

Mae sat on top of a roof, legs dangling off the side, kicking them in the air as she scoped the area. Her fingers tapped a rhythm into the bricks, the hair that was sticking out of her braids flying in the wind after she decided to lower her hood.

"How much longer till we can go back? It's kinda cold out here."

Not long. The god had a better view of the city below due to his height, but that's not what helped him spot someone. There. He crouched to be level with his avatar, pointing a bony finger next to her head, helping her see what he was looking at.

"What exactly are we looking at, Anubis?"

Khonsu, which means...

"Moon Knight!" The teenager exclaimed, following the faraway figure with her finger.

Precisely. Come, little Jackal we must go now.

The two jumped on the roofs, making their way to the street corner, where Khonsu's avatar stood. The god and the girl stayed at their vantage point, looking at the scene below. Moon Knight was taking down another one of Ammits followers. They punched the man square in his jaw, using one of their crescent darts, leaving the weapon sticking out of his face.

The sight of the blood pouring from the man's new-found wound made Mae look away, turning her body towards Anubis for comfort. The god raised a hand, blocking the view below from her peripheral. After waiting a minute, and for the screaming to stop, the teen finally looked back down. The Moon Knight was nowhere in sight. She looked around the surrounding streets and allies, but she couldn't spot the avatar.

Mae felt a chill climb up her spine, and she spun around. "Jesus!" She exclaimed, backing up, forgetting she was standing on a rooftop. Her right foot slipped, causing her to fall back, but luckily Khonsu's avatar was quick. The person held a tight grip on the upper chest portion of Mae's suit. Their right arm was up, holding a crescent dart in their hand, ready to attack, as they held the teenager at an angle, dangling over the edge of the roof above the street below.

Khonsu! Anubis growled, Release her at once! I am in no mood to play games!

As if on command, the avatar brought Mae back to her feet, releasing her, before disappearing.

The girl's breathing was unsteady as she tried to figure out what happened. "I think- Ima just go do the ceremony now- yea." She convinced herself, slowly nodding her head.

Mae jumped to the street, stepping cautiously toward the two bodies.

She completed the ceremony for Ammits follower and then moved toward his victim. Going through the person's bag, she found an ID. Reading over it, Mae discovered her name was Lana and she was 19.

Mae froze before doing the ceremony, moving her head ever-so-slightly, listening to her surroundings. "Anubis?" Her voice was just above a whisper.

Yes, my child?

"Are they still here?"

Yes, the girl looked at the man with a jackal head, You need not worry, no harm will come to you, I will make sure of it. The monotone sound of his voice soothed her, and she continued with her task.

#marc spector #marc spector x oc #marvel #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x oc #jake lockely imagine #fanfic #fanfition #oc #khonsu #my ocs #platonic #jake lockely

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builder051 · 2 years

Text

Press on, press on again

Whoa Bessie

Content warnings: medical talk/seizures, sickness/emeto, possible sexualized behavior between grown people in a sexual relationship

____________________________

They've resurrected the tradition of the Sunday drive.

James has been complacent lately, either between the points of satisfied and bored with his activities and tasks, or ever so slightly stagnated. Steve can't quite tell which.

From the talk-therapy perspective, James seems as well as can be expected, all things considered. The same traumas come up in the night terrors, and he makes difficult confessions over again in the post-icthal fog after Steve picks his twitching, medicated ass up off the floor. But he remembers people's names now. Even from back in college. Sometimes he cracks jokes so slyly it takes Steve a second to get them before cracking up.

Sam and Nat report continued progress in the PT and OT departments, but Steve isn't sure whether he believes them.

"He's always gonna be, you know. Right?" Clint had weighed in when Steve had asked for a third opinion.

Steve shrugged and tried not to be disappointed.

"Broaden your horizons. Take him to, I don't know, the Smithsonian?" Clint pointed in the vague direction on the nearest metro station.

"Eh," Steve replied. "He hates crowds."

"Other way? We live way out near Big Sky..."

Steve vaguely recognized the name of the National Park, though he wasn't sure hiking or picnics were what he was after, either.

By Sunday, though, Steve couldn't take James's ghostly presence as he hovered in front of the bookshelf, pondering the jigsaw puzzles as the theme for Independent Lens cued on the television. It would be either dinosaurs, the Louvre, or the moon landing, and James would finish it right around the time Alan Cumming introduced tonight's Masterpiece Mystery.

James makes his requisite humming sound, and Steve puts his foot down.

"No," Steve says. He reaches for the TV remote.

"Wha?" James looks at him, confused.

Steve immediately softens his face and checks his tone. "I'm sorry. You're not doing anything wrong." He takes a breath. "I just want to do something different."

"Oh." James steps away from the shelf. He nods. "Like, uh. Umm..." He blinks, then makes a thin smile. "Do you...?"

"Know what to do instead?" Steve finishes.

James nods.

"Not... not exactly," Steve says honestly. "But a change of scenery? Do you want to go for a drive?"

"I might get carsick." James looks doubtful.

"It's nice out. We can roll down the windows." Steve is already heading for the shoe shelf and the rack where he hangs his keys. "I think I have some CDs in the glove box. Maybe the trunk..."

"This is... different." James follows him halfway, looking unsure whether he intends to dig in his heels.

"Yeah." Steve's voice cracks a little as he bends over to open the folded heel of his boat shoe. "Consider it... field trip therapy. We can talk about it or draw about it or do sit-ups about it when we get back, it it makes you feel better." Steve grins.

James's downturned eyebrows neutralize, then he makes the thin-line smile again. "Ok, sure," he gives in. "But not during Mystery."

"It's going to be a rerun," Steve says.

"How do you know?" James dons his shoes, then stands on his toes to knock his hat down from the top shelf just above his head.

"I can tell the future."

James glares at him darkly from under his black brim.

"No, ok," Steve laughs. "Mystery is always a rerun. It's the dramas that are new this year."

"But still--how--?"

Steve opens the door and waves James outside into the driveway. "You ever notice the TV guide is missing from the newspaper? Every day?"

"You mean they print a TV guide?" James looks a little dumbstruck.

Steve unlocks the car and they both get in. "Yeah. It's like a little magazine with celebrity gossip and movie times. I confiscate it. Well, I usually put it in my waiting room, now that you don't go in there anymore."

"Why?" James asks earnestly.

"'Cause you'd never put it down," Steve teases.

"I only watch PBS." James defends himself. "Deadliest Catch, sometimes. And... and... the animal channel--"

"Animal Planet," Steve corrects, "Which you confuse with Discovery and National Geographic."

"They're all animal channels. And last time, I let you program the remote." James crosses his arms and nods decisively.

"I guess I'm caught." Steve makes it out of the townhouse's neighborhood gridlock and pulls onto the main drive. "We're headed into the state, not the city today. Maybe you'll see some real animals."

"A pigeon," James reports sarcastically, nodding to the fat, grey bowling pin of a bird perched atop the nearest stop sign.

It takes just a minute to get to the highway. Steve assumes the crowds are spending their not-quite-noontime enjoying brunch after their choice of worship. Sure enough, the exit to Cracker Barrel gives him a view of American made pickups and families meandering the overflow porch. Not that Steve would've ever heeded it, but he's glad nobody's yet recommended that he and James try to join them.

They crack the windows at the next mile marker, and the breeze is perfect. James's hair takes flight at the ends, rippling up to his ears and turning gentle waves until the length is trapped beneath his cap.

Steve steals glimpses at him; he can't help himself. At least he does until James catches him, loosing a toothy, undignified snigger that makes him look raw and sexy and absolutely ridiculous.

A bubble of laughter builds in Steve's chest, but he's afraid he'll completely lose it, so he pops the center console and points at the messy array of junk inside.

"I forgot to look for CDs," he tells James. "There may be some in here. Hell, there might be cassette tapes."

James nods. He digs his seatbelt out of his neck, then turns so he can reach and rummage. Once he's down a layer of napkins and thoroughly un-sticky sticky notes, James come up with two shiny red cases rubber-banded together.

"The Civil War-abridged. Narrated by Ken Burns?" James reads, after blowing off some dust. "Cassettes." He raises his eyebrows, then flips the package over in his hand. "Oh--library copy--" He looks hurriedly to Steve. "These have a campus bar code. Do you owe money?"

Steve thinks quickly. "Um, probably not?" He cocks his head. "I no longer have a student account. No debt, as far as I know. Full ride for grad school." He shrugs. "I don't think so."

"Ok..." James sounds doubtful.

"We don't have to keep it, if it makes you feel weird."

Steve thinks about tossing the tapes in the trash next chance he gets; the sound quality has to be terribly scratched and warped.

"Like, mail it back?" James asks.

"Uh..." Steve isn't inclined to waste the postage. The cassettes are probably worth less. But he's also inclined to humor James's every inclination. "Maybe."

There's a gas station at the next exit. It's the kind with a corner store, plentiful with drinks and snacks and souvenir shot glasses. They probably sell car electronics and the like. Hopefully they're just outdated enough to have a few music CDs in stock among the chargers and adapters.

It's also a good change of conversation. "Hey, Buck," Steve poses. "D'you want to stop for a coke or something?"

"I know how to get lids off," James replies, annoyingly moving to an adjacent topic instead of answering.

"Yeah, bottled drinks. I bet they have glass bottles, too." Steve points down the approaching turn lane. "If we're going to stop, I have to turn now. Shall we?"

James is quiet for a second. He turns his head slightly to watch the road. Then he looks to Steve. "Sure," he says. It comes out a little oddly, though. As if he's reading out his Scrabble play instead of saying something with meaning.

He'll have to pay postage on the cassettes, Steve knows it. Rush shipping, probably. But he dusts off a grin and eases into the turn lane.

There's another bird clinging to the top of the traffic light, some little ugly brown unidentifiable thing that would require an expert and a magnifying glass to name properly. Steve's about to point it out to James, but James is already staring at it, his eyes big and blank. The light turns, and the bird ruffles it's wings, seeming affronted.

James sniffs. Steve isn't sure if it's a reaction to the bird, or just one of his sounds of existence. There's a pothole in the driveway to the gas station, and the car wobbles a bit. James's body ebbs and flows in his seat, his torso flexing whilst staying strong and upright. One muscle in his neck stands out, then disappears. He tips his head back, and Steve can just see the lines at the corner of his eye.

Steve turns the steering wheel and navigates into a parking spot. He steals a nervous glance at James, who has resumed his stoic stare into space. If Steve touches him, he might melt. So, of course, the best thing to do is rush the space between them and plant a startling kiss on James's cheek.

"Ah," James breathes, surprised. Pleased? Steve can't quite tell.

All he can take in is the burn of James's stubble left on the tip of his nose, like a child's tender knee bitten by sidewalk. Teenagers making love on cheap carpet.

Steve throws open his door and gets out of the car. He doesn't look at James, but doesn't actively look away, either. He can feel him walking at the same pace, right behind his shoulder. James's breathing is off. Flustered, perhaps. That would match Steve's inner workings, trying to maintain all normal processes with just a touch of what the fuuuccckkk...

The corner store is empty, so Steve takes his time glancing around. A case of overwhelmingly sweet-smelling doughnuts overtakes one side of the room, so he turns toward the soda fountain and coffee machines on the opposite wall.

"Coffee?" Steve offers, pointing it out to James. "Recyclable cups, even."

"Mm." James nods.

Steve himself opts for the soda fountain, where he won't be judged if he adds a little root beer and lemonade to his plain cola. After watching James choose his coffee cup and stoop his neck to read the flavors, he depresses the handles over his own chosen beverages and watches the bubbles flow.

Steve adds the final splash of A & W to fill his cup to the brim and watches intently as the foam fades away. Suddenly something heavy drops onto his shoulder, and his drink dribbles over the edges.

"What?" Steve tries not to move, though it only takes him a fraction of a second to recognize the shape and sound and smell of James having come up behind him and laid his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Hm." James stump is extended to its fullest and perched on the outside of Steve's arm, right where his sleeve cuts off. His chest is practically on Steve's back, though he's cockeyed slightly, and he's caught Steve's hipbone with his at a sloppy T.

"Hey, Buck," Steve murmurs. "What's up?"

James exhales another humming sound. The bowl of his pelvis conforms to Steve's gluteus, his groin wrapping just below. His body feels muscular and toned, and his breath is hot on the side of Steve's face.

"This, uh, isn't the time..." Steve tries to hiss at him.

"Hm." James's right leg hitches, as if he's trying to ride Steve's ass by only hinging his knee, the toe of his shoe squeaking against the floor.

"Stop," Steve groans. "We don't do this in public."

"Uh. Uh." It's only when James collapses at the beltline and gives Steve an uppercut in the chest three times over that the situation becomes clear.

"Fuck." It's, perhaps coincidentally, the only word Steve has at the moment. The fountain drink falls victim to somebody's elbow, splashing the back of Steve's jeans and becoming a puddle on the floor. Swearing again and checking his footing, Steve wraps James's waist with one arm and his shoulders with the other, suspending him mid-fall as the seizure takes hold of his body.

"Ok, ok." Steve starts his usual grounding murmurs as he looks for a dry spot to place James's legs. He swipes at the soda spill with the side of his foot, but all that does is invite wetness under his foot and into this insole. Maybe it's all for naught; James is halfway likely to leak from one or more orifice, anyway.

"I've got you," Steve says as he's forced to sit heavily and roll James to his side. His breathing is gurgly, and his body twitches spasmodically in a dead bug sort of way. James makes a retching sound that seems to resonate from deep in his ribcage, but all it produces is a trace of clear saliva.

"Yeah, get it up." Steve pats James's back.

"Is he sick? Do you need an ambulance?" A hairnet and a hillbilly drawl come out from behind the doughnuts, the curly cord of an landline stretching several feet overhead from a bright red wall-mount.

"No, he does this," Steve says, finding himself gasping as well. "I mean, he's a disabled veteran. Epileptic. I have his meds. Or he does. Somewhere."

"Ok, sweetie. Tell me if you change your mind." The hairnet puts down the handset and noisily changes gloves.

"Buck, sorry," Steve says, stroking James's hair. Then he collects James's hat, which has fallen off, and buttons it to his own belt loop for safekeeping. "I gotta feel you up."

James makes a guttural sound, which may or may not have been voluntary. He does see to take ahold of his flickering eyelids, though, and jam them together in a single, hard blink.

"Ok. Good." Steve tries to stick his hand in James's pocket without fondling him. "We got this." There's nothing in the upward-facing one. James must be lying on his emergency syringe. He can't imagine that's very comfortable. Not that seizing in the middle of a gas station store is very comfortable to begin with.

"Ok, it's under you," Steve tries to explain. "Your Versed. Your mouth. meds? That make you go to sleep?"

"Uh," James forces out. But then his chest and arms go jerking again. So does the side of his face. That part always scares Steve most, filling him with fear he'll start stroking, start disappearing, and they'll have to start all over.

He can't perseverate. Hell, five minutes ago he thought James was going all youngblood on him. When he wakes up from this round of medically-induced drowse, James will owe him. They'll owe each other.

Steve hoists James's waist an inch off the floor and explores his rumpled pocket. Sure enough, the syringe is rolled in the lining, covered in lint, and the label is all but worn off. He should probably check the expiration date, but Steve is too eager to get the goods into James's body to wait even a moment longer than necessary. He discards the cap and jams the tip under James's lower lip. It makes friction along the lower gum line, and Steve groans in apology. The syringe seems to depress for an ungodly amount of time.

What's the dose? Is it always this dose? Does it always take this long? Steve's the one trembling when he finally removes the empty syringe and drops it at James's side. "Ok?" he whispers. "Ok. It's ok."

James takes a shuddering breath. His body stills. Then he resumes a normal, though slightly quickened chest rise.

Steve sighs in relief. He hovers the back of his fingers hear James's forehead, which is warm and glistening with slight perspiration. He's got to have burned, what, a thousand calories, at least? Four hundred a minute, or something like that.

"Ok..." Time to get his brain back on track. James is stable. That's the most important thing. But... backtracking. Why'd they stop? Where even are they?

"You sure you don't need help, sweetie?" The hairnet is behind the ice cream counter now, waving the phone beside its wall mount.

"Um..." Steve gives his pockets a glance. Sure enough, his phone is in the car. "Actually, yeah. Can I call somebody?"

"Even I know the Fire Department." The glove doesn't quite tap the hairnet in the motion of acknowledgement.

"No, a person. Like, a house." Steve presses up to his knees. "Will your cord stretch?"

"Every dern corner of this place." Bouncy Dr. Scholls come at a clip, and the gloves change again as soon as the receiver is in Steve's hand.

"Thanks." Steve looks at the number pad set into the center of the receiver. The phone feels like a toy, but for now, it's a lifeline. He shuts his eyes and envisions the piece of paper taped above the computer monitor in his office. Clint office. No, next one down. Clint cell.

Steve dials the number, including the 1 and area code, just in case they're across the county line. Then he tucks the receiver behind his ear and waits.

It rings twice, then picks up. "Why does my caller ID say 'Gas-n-Go?'" An annoyed-yet-curious voice asks. "Is this a phone booth? Or a hijacked number?"

"No, Clint, it's me," Steve says quickly. "Steve, from the office."

"Ok?" There's definitely skepticism.

Steve hastens to explain. "I'm at a gas station, that's why the phone number is odd. I'm with Bucky-- James, I mean--"

"Yeah, I know you live together. You're calling me on a weekend on a personal number, so professional isn't, like, a thing anymore."

"Ok, I'm sorry, so, we were driving, and we stopped and he had a seizure, and he's had medication and he's passed out now--"

"Where did you say you were?" Clint interrupts.

"You said to go places and stuff."

"You're at a gas station? What exit?"

"Uh." Steve can't remember the number. He isn't sure he even looked at the number. "The one with the dippy bird on the traffic light?"

"The fuck?"

"After Cracker Barrel."

"Ok," Clint pauses. "And you haven't seen the diner inside the giant silver Airstream yet?"

"There's a--" Steve stops short. "No. Definitely no."

"Yeah, so you're like, halfway."

"To what?"

"Big Sky, dipshit." Clint laughs. "That's where you were going, right?"

"Uh... We got...really sidetracked." Steve rubs his hand up his forehead, making his bangs stand on end.

"Yeah, well. We're the other fork."

"I don't follow," Steve sighs. "Buck is passed out, and if you live near here, I really don't want to put upon, but if you could, like meet me--"

"Steve, hey, it's fine. That's what I'm telling you," Clint says. "You're halfway there. Big Sky National Park is one fork in the road. Our driveway is basically the other one."

"Oh."

"I think we're an hour apart, ish? Forty-five, if I take my car instead of the van?"

"That would be.. Oh my god. Thank you." Steve trips over his words.

"My wife wants to turn one wing of the house into an Air BnB. Says I'm on business trips too often, and she needs more people to cook for." Clint laughs. "She'd love you guys."

"I don't want to be a burden. He'll wake up by tonight--"

"No. Stay," Clint insists. "Play hooky with me tomorrow. I have leave to burn. Laura has a double oven. Strawberries are blooming..."

"You're being way too kind. I'm so out of line, doing this--"

"Steve. Stop." Clint puts on a gentle, yet firm tone. "We treat each other like family. Always. Ok?"

Steve takes a moment to breathe. He nods to himself. To James. Then he murmurs, "Ok. See you soon."

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valkyriesryde · 4 years

Text

Release the Hounds {3/?}

Chapter Three: Nothing More to Say

Pairing: Persephone!Steve x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: An unwelcome visitor is dropped on the front steps of the Underworld.

Word count: 1459

A/N: Are we starting to have some theories about what's going on or do we just have more questions? Cats out of the bag with who the judges are and I must say, I do love them so. Also it’s the time you’ve all been waiting for!!!

Series Masterlist ~ Masterlist

~~~~~~~

There’s something calming about listening to other people’s stories. Something inspiring about the adventures other people have been on. Most days it made her happy. Lying in Asphodel meadow and letting the souls swim around her as they whispered their stories in her ears. It was like listening to rain in the middle of the night.

“Did you read the letter?” Though the peace never lasts long. Aeacus stood over her queen like an old friend, well that is what they were. Her focus on the souls around her instead of the god lying amongst them.

Minos may be her oldest friend but Aeacus and Hades had an understanding like no other and it was because of days like this. Days where Hades lay in the field and helped Aeacus tend to the land and the souls. She never took over, merely helped where was needed. People often got that wrong about Hades and the workings of the Underworld. She was god of the dead, she ruled over them, she delegated duties and overlooked practices. She rarely got her hands dirty.

“I did, and replied. I’ve no business with the council, we’ve been over this Wanda.” She didn’t want to discuss it, the idea that she would be allowed on the council again is beyond belief to Hades, she didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to have any hope that maybe she would be welcomed back to her family.

“You’re not even going to consider-”

“No. I’m not.” She stood and felt the years of rejection and rage seep through her body. Before she could let it boil over though the two heard their names being called as the figure sprint over the hills towards them. Rhadamanthus slid to a stop in front of them as he gulped down his nerves.

“Pietro?” Wanda and Hades asked at the same time as he came to an easy stop before them.

“Charon, he brought someone down the river to your door.” Before he even finished speaking the judge was starting to make his way back up the wall to the large home that overlooked the valley. The two women followed him over the hill, hot on his heels and confusion clear on their faces.

“That’s his job Pietro?” Wanda commented but it came out more as a question, he spun around and walked backwards, his eyes on Hades.

“Not to the gates, he dropped him on your doorstep.”

~~~~~~~~

As the trio walked into the foyer of the queen’s home the air was different. She noticed it immediately, like fresh rain or pollen sitting in the air. It was like she was in the middle of a freshly blooming field of wildflowers it was mixed though, the smell of wildflowers mixed with blood and dust but it wasn’t her and it wasn’t the Underworld.

“God of Spring.”

Steve sat hunched over by her desk as Hades stood in the doorway of the office. Minos was grumbling to himself in front of Steve, something about how “of course it’s you, you just don’t give up do you? Stupid gods give me nothing but headaches.”

“Look what Cerberus dragged in,” Pietro smirked and she could feel his anger next to her. Steve didn’t say anything, he was too beaten and cut up to be able to speak, too busy hissing at the ointment that was being dabbed on his skin by Wanda now.

“Sam take the shoes away from him. He clearly doesn’t know how to use them,” she rolled her eyes and Steve tried to ignore the aching in his bones from crashing onto the port before so he could focus on her. He’d never seen the God of the Dead before and he was enamoured by the presence she held. The power she possessed, and the inkling that that wasn’t all there was. His mother was wrong, she wasn’t the devil. “Finish patching him up then give him back to Charon, he’s not welcome here.”

“Don’t you want to hear what he has to say?” Wanda asked and Sam and Pietro both groaned and rolled their eyes.

“This is your fault Wanda! If you hadn’t given him hope by taking the stupid letter he wouldn’t be here right now!” Sam started berating Wanda with Steve sat in the middle but his attention was still locked on Hades as she clicked her tongue and gave the judges a smirk.

“So you all knew about the letter.” She raised an eyebrow and stepped further into the room, her arms falling to her side as they moved with her cloak, Steve had the urge to paint her.

“We didn’t know it’s contents.” Pietro piped up and Wanda sent him a glare, “well we had an inkling.”

“And we told him we wouldn’t give it to you.” Sam continued to glare at Wanda, it was like they were holding each other at gunpoint, but

“Yes well, not all of you agreed to that did you.” She felt like a mother having caught all three of her children with their hands in the cookie jar as they passed the blame around.

“Y/N I’m sorry but you should listen to what he has to say.” Wanda pleaded, her hands resting on Steve’s shoulders as he still sat there quietly. Maybe this was a bad idea, not to come here but to think she would want to be on the council, to think she would even want him to fight for her.

“I already know what he has to say.”

“And?” Sam asked needing to know he wasn’t in the wrong to think this was ridiculous. They didn’t want them in Olympus, that hadn’t changed since long before Alexander the Great, why did Wanda or Steve or anyone expect it to change all of a sudden.

“And I’m not interested,” she snapped but her comment wasn’t to Sam but Steve and for a moment he was afraid of what she would possibly do to him, throw him in Tartarus probably. “You were told you weren’t welcome here.” Her voice was harsh and Steve felt his blood run cold in his veins. This was the Hades the gods and nymphs on Olympus feared. The one who took no prisoners and welcomed no gods into her domain.

Then he caught a glimpse of a pattern on her cloak, the golden vine that barely twisted around her gold crown. His cuts were healing, his bruises disappearing as he started to feel himself again after his fall. He remembered why this was so important to him, even just for a second.

“If I may Ha-” He pulled himself up from the chair, his hand on her desk and he thought for a second her eyes turned black.

“She said you’re not welcome in the Underworld.” Pietro’s arms were crossed as he took another step next to Wanda and Steve was surrounded. Steve knew they were siblings, younger than Sam who had been by her side since the ten year war but they were still older than him.

“That’s enough Pietro. Sam, thank you for helping him but you know the rules. The Underworld is no place for an Olympian god.” Her cloak flowed around her as she turned to walk out.

“But Y/N-” Her movement halted, Wanda gave Steve a sorry look. She’d tried to help he knew that, but Y/N’s mind was made up. He said the name again in his head over and over, it whispered like a secret that no one knew. No one outside of the Underworld knew her like this, as she is now, these weren’t her subjects, they knew her as a friend like he and Bucky knew each other. Her own name, not one given to her.

“Not now Wanda. Clean him up and take him back to the gates, Thanatos will take him home from there.”

“Thanatos!?” Steve’s eyes widened at the mention of the lesser god, Demeter had told him horror stories of Thanatos when he was a child and he was sure she was sending him to his death.

“Yes, god of death, one of my sons, have you heard of him Persephone?”

“It’s Steve.” Hades’ lips twitched as her judges’ eyes widened at Steve correcting her. No Olympian corrected Hades, they were already shocked at his mere presence in the Underworld, that he wasn’t a pile of ash in front of them yet.

“Steve.” She turns to Sam and they share a knowing look before he leaves the room. Then to Wanda and it's as if the Queen of the Underworld and her judges have an unspoken language between them as Steve watches Wanda swallow and divert her eyes down. “Take the God of Spring to Thanatos.”

~~~~~~~

Chapter Four: Seek the Truth

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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dolce-peach · 4 years

Note

Hii! Could you do like a Loki X reader avenger that has like angel like powers that would be interesting! Btw I love your fics hope you're safe out there have a nice day :))

with you

pairing: loki x avenger!reader

warnings: slight violence, blood, loki being an absolute lil bean at times

a/n: tysm anon! i got excited for this one, cuz i’m a sucker for anything fantasy :) also i put loki on the team because i believe that’s beautiful *wipes eyes* hope you guys like it!

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

You were grooming your large white wings, sitting on the edge of the Avengers Tower. You relished the cool breeze circling your legs as they dangled over the side of the building. Some pedestrians recognized you from down below and waved, and you smiled and waved back with a wing.

Life as an Avenger was strange but good. Though you did appreciate them, you just couldn’t get used to the way humans went about their days. They were odd yet endearing creatures.

When they asked you to be part of their team, you couldn’t refuse their cause to protect the world.

“Avengers, please report to Hangar 1,” JARVIS’ voice echoed through the comms.

Without hesitation, you folded your wings comfortably and made your way downstairs until you arrived at the hangar, where everyone was waiting.

You naturally gravitated towards Loki, who was surveying the scene before him.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Not the slightest idea,” he said. “Something about Hydra, I assume.”

You frowned.

As far as you knew, Tony and Steve had been tracking down numerous Hydra forts looking for the stolen sceptre Loki wielded once before. He had since then broken away from the effects, but you knew it still haunted him.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve asked as he came forward.

“JARVIS picked something up over in Sokovia. I think we should check it out,” Tony explained. He brought up a hologram of a fort. “It’s small and abandoned.”

“Which would make it easy for them to hide more numbers underground,” Natasha concluded.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “C-can they do that?”

“We must be prepared for whatever they throw our way,” Thor said. “If that means to fight fire with fire, then we’ll do so.”

Clint shrugged. “Seems sketchy, but this is the first lead we’ve had in a few weeks.”

Steve nodded. “We’ll have two parties. Y/N and Loki can sneak inside and look for the sceptre while the rest of us take them on from outside,” he directed. “If they find it, then by the time they get out and get back to us, we’ll already be long gone before Hydra can do anything.”

“You heard the captain,” Tony said, quirking an eyebrow. “Let’s move, people.”

You followed everyone onto the Quinjet when Loki grabbed hold of your wrist. You turned to face him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

“Loki?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said.

“Why not? I have you.”

He sighed. “Yes, but if we manage to find the sceptre, what if i turn against you?” He looked away. “What if I can’t save you?”

You laughed. “I’m an angel, dear. I don’t need saving.” You brushed his hair back gently. “And you won’t turn. I won’t let you, I promise.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling softly. “Okay.”

“Come on, Rock of Ages,” Tony called. “Waiting on you!”

Loki chuckled, rolling his eyes. “You’re lucky I quietly deal with your antics, Stark.”

You pat his shoulder before getting yourself situated. “Just let it go,” you teased.

You flew stealthily through the trees, carrying Loki as you went. Gunshots and canon fire echoed in the distance, signaling that the Hydra soldiers were distracted by the rest of the Avengers.

Once you were close to the back entrance, you set Loki down and ran alongside him, meeting a few soldiers head on.

You swung your arm out in front of you, flashing a blinding light that made the soldiers collapse. You twirled around and blew down the door with one powerful gust from your wings.

“You know, I could’ve handled that,” Loki said as he followed you through the door.

“I know,” you explained. “But we don’t have much time.”

“I know,” he said quietly with a smirk as the two of you continued down the dark hallway.

Most of the soldiers had cleared out, either evacuating or going out to assist against the rest of the Avengers. The lucky few you encountered either instantly fainted upon looking into your golden eyes, or screamed in horror at the illusions Loki cast.

At last, you made it to a secret passageway that deviated far from the original hallway. Your wings shivered from the chilled air that swept through the narrow tunnel.

Your breath was a cloud that barely escaped your lips as you were nearly knocked from your feet by a blur.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Loki draw his daggers as he wrestled with a young teenage boy with silver hair.

Before you could go and help, your vision grew red before settling. You turned to see a girl retreating to the shadows, her irises an extreme crimson. Confusion took a hold of you as old memories clouded your eyes, but you were still able to fight through it and pin her against the stone wall.

“It didn’t work,” she breathed, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” you questioned.

You tightened your grip around her arms, feeling an intense fire rise to your fingertips. The girl cried out.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“Answer my question,” you said calmly, raising your other flaming hand. “I may be an angel, but I can be the devil if I want to.”

Before you could inflict any more harm, she disappeared in a blur.

You turned to see Loki wiping his bleeding lip, his daggers dissolving within his long fingers. You rushed over, running your fingers along his lip.

He chuckled. “I’m fine.”

Your eyes were filled with concern. “Who were they?” you asked as you began to heal him.

“I’m not sure, but they were young,” he said. “Maybe enhanced.”

Your fingertips gave off a soft golden glow, sealing the cut back together. He touched his lip when you were finished, a small smile of gratitude appearing.

“Let’s get the sceptre and get out of here,” you said.

“Great plan.”

The said sceptre lay in the middle of the room under a large Chitauri Leviathan. Other broken parts of the Chitauri soldiers lay around on various tables, making the room smell strongly of burnt flesh.

Loki cautiously took the sceptre in his hands, shakily breathing out as he touched the gold staff.

You touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

He sighed, which was enough for you. “Let’s get back.”

“Captain, we have the sceptre,” you said in your earpiece as the two of you walked back through the tunnel.

“Good. We’re by the edge of the forest.”

“Copy that.”

You were suffocating before the two of you emerged out in the snowy forest, the fresh cold air filling your chest.

And without a warning, your knees buckled.

Y/N!

You watched drops of blood fall onto the white snow beneath your feet. They fell one by one, staining the pure white until a pool was created around you.

Shaking, you lifted your gaze up to see someone aiming a bow and arrow at you. His face was blurred and dark in the red fire of the forest.

A shot rang through the air, and moments later, the arrow dug itself into your stomach.

You fell to your knees, feeling the one thing you were promised you wouldn’t feel. Pain blossomed from the wound, making you double over.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes shot open, staring directly into Loki’s.

Breathe! your mind screamed.

Your eyes darted around, trying to grasp where you were.

“It’s okay! You’re safe,” he said. “You’re at home.”

“Home,” you murmured. After a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes. “What happened?”

“The enhanced we ran into...”

“What about them?”

“We think one of them might have affected you,” he explained.

You shook your head. “That’s impossible.”

“They got their powers from the sceptre,” he said. “Who’s to say they can’t knock an angel or a god off their feet?”

You sighed, covering your face in your hands. You could almost still feel the snow against your skin.

“That vision you had,” Loki began. “Who was that?”

“A fallen angel. A comrade I tried to save,” you replied. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t look into my head anymore.”

“I needed to know if you were alright,” he said. “If you died, I’d be beside myself.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m fine,” you said. “Just shaken, that’s all.” You laughed bitterly. “I thought I forgot it all, but I guess no matter how long you live, you’ll always remember something like that.”

Loki nodded. “I know what you mean.”

You took one long look at the god and smiled sadly. “Yes, you do.”

He brushed his black locks back. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sensed them coming.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Truly, it’s okay. It’s a good thing we were prepared anyways, otherwise, we would’ve had a hard time making it out.”

He chuckled. “True, but nothing’s impossible for this god,” he said as he pointed to himself.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, making Loki grin from ear to ear. Hearing your laugh was enough to cure all the sicknesses in the world and ban darkness to the edges of the galaxy.

It was a sound that vividly spelled, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

And it was.

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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Two of a Kind: Chapter 2

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Dark Elf!Reader Summary: You left Svartalfheim before the first victory against your people and avoided the extinction by living in Sakaar, the home of all lost things like yourself. You lived there for a long time and built yourself a sort of home there... until a couple of Asgardians show up and ruin everything for you. The trip to the Grandmaster’s palace goes better than expected, and you catch up with an old frenemy. Warnings: Extraterrestrial slavery, swearing (always) Word Count: ~2,847 A/N: The chapter rotation is ToaK, GoW, TWID. In other words, Ghosts of War is the next chapter I’ll post and then The Way I Do, then back to Two of a Kind. Also, sorry for the slow posting. Life is hard.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

You nodded. “Don’t go far. You could run to the Grandmaster if you really wanted to, but he’s not as forgiving as I am.”

Loki frowned. “You’ll kill me if I run. How could he possibly be worse?”

You shrugged. “I may kill you, but it’ll be relatively painless. Grandmaster will melt you from the inside out. It’s gruesome, really.”

Loki looked disgusted by this new revelation. “Waiting outside. Got it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him. If you let yourself forget, for a moment, that he would kill you the moment he got the chance, he really would have been pleasurable company.

As promised, Loki waited patiently just outside your door, back to the cold medal and arms crossed casually across his chest. His gaze flicked to you the moment the door to your room slid open and, for the first time since you met him, he seemed at a loss for words. Your bright red and gold dress trailed along the ground, the soft fabric whispering against the rough metal-grated floor of your compound. Although nearly every inch of your body was covered, it hugged you skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination.

“Something the matter, Loki Laufeyson?” you asked playfully, smile dancing behind your mask.

His eyes hardened a measure at your playful jab and he tore his gaze from you with what seemed like a great effort. “Just tired of waiting for you,” Loki said loftily, earning a short breathy chuckle from you.

“I see, then. My apologies. It takes me a great while to squeeze into this dress, but the final presentation is worth it, no?” you asked sweetly, placing yourself directly in front of him.

You could see Loki’s throat bob as he gulped audibly, determinedly looking just right of your face. “Yes, you look quite agreeable. I’m sure you’ll blend in perfectly.”

Your lips tugged up at the corners, devious grin on your face. Was this man not approached by women often? There was no way. He was sex on two legs. Perhaps he was conflicted between being attracted to you and wanting to see you as a rival or worthy leader. Either way, his reaction amused you to no end.

“Thank you, Loki. Shall we be going?” you asked, proffering your arm out for him.

“Yes, I’m eager to meet this Grandmaster,” he said, eyes straight ahead as the two of you began gliding down the hallway. If you weren’t mistaken, his gaze kept flicking to you as you snaked your hand around his elbow and led him to the shuttle bay.

As the door to the hangar slid open to reveal the lines of ships of different shapes and sizes you could see him take in every possible escape option. You could see him eye the small one-person craft in the corner and secretly appreciated his decision. It was easily one of the nicest ships in your collection, capable of traveling off planet.

“We’ll be taking Palesius. She’s small and fast, but not space worthy.” You pointed to the ship in question, a small luxury liner used specifically for visiting the Grandmaster’s palace. It didn’t have any guns so it was fast enough to outrun any possible pursuers with the added benefit of getting you to the other side of the planet in a reasonable amount of time. The bright electric blue and bloody red paint reflected brilliantly even in the dim artificial light.

Loki seemed to walk forward without even realizing it, his feet carrying him to the front of the vessel where his fingers grazed hull of the well-kept ship.

“You approve?” you asked smugly, watching him eye the machine like a kid in a candy shop.

He retracted his hand quickly as though the metal had burned him. “It will do,” he said happily, trying to preserve his persona of feigned affability.

The door opened as you walked over to it and you stepped inside, giving him a single warning as he stepped onto the ship behind you. “Unless you feel like walking back or stealing from the Grandmaster- which is suicide- I suggest you don’t kill me. This ship can only be piloted by myself. Biometric scans and all that, you know how it is,” you said, sliding gracefully into the pilot’s seat. The ship turned on the moment your butt hit the chair and you smiled as you felt the familiar hum of the engines starting.

“Wonderful.”

“Scrapper 23, requesting landing,” you said to the masked man on the large holo screen that took up half of your ship’s front window.

“Permission granted, Scrapper 23. Proceed to spot X-49,” the man told you with the bored efficiency of a man that had spent too much time doing a single monotonous job.

You thanked him before the screen clicked off then you relaxed back into your chair as you let your ship’s computer guide you to the correct spot.

“I’m proud of you,” you said, throwing Loki a grin that he couldn’t see.

He stopped staring out the window (taking everything in with a frightening curiosity and seriousness) and turned a confused stare on you. “I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or not,” he said, unsure.

You smiled. “Completely serious. We made it the entire way here without you trying to kill me. Must be a new record. I half expected you to stab me the moment we were in the air.”

He grinned, eyes sharp. “The promise of world domination was just too alluring and I’m afraid I’m too green here to do it by myself just yet.”

You made a dramatic hurt noise. “And here I was thinking you had finally taken a liking to me.”

His response couldn’t have surprised you more. “Well there was that, too,” he said with a playful smile.

“Ah, the Frost Giant’s heart thaws. Such a compelling tale!” you said as you pulled into your spot between two other similarly sized ships. Judging by how full the Grandmaster’s garage was, it was to be a large party. It was better that way, it’d be even easier for Loki to sneak around and gather information.

He rolled his eyes at your dramatic exclamations. “Anything I should know before we enter?”

“Oh, of course, but I don’t have the time to teach you everything. Just try not to offend the Grandmaster, alright? It’ll reflect badly on me if he turns you to goo and I’m already walking on thin ice with him and his people.”

Loki stared flatly at you. “I’m sorry if my being melted makes your life a little more difficult.”

You bit back a smirk but didn’t rise to the bait. “Thank you, I’m so glad you understand.”

Loki opened his mouth to argue but the shuttle door opened and he quickly snapped it shut again. You stood and held your hand out to him and he eyed it warily.

“Shall we, lover?” you asked, shit-eating grin hidden behind your mask.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked incredulously.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that’s how I’m sneaking you in? As my lover?” you asked, biting back a laugh at the look on his face. He wasn’t the only one who could cause mischief.

Loki glared at you. “Is that normal behavior for you? Toting lovers to the Grandmaster’s ostentatious parties?”

“No.”

“Then why? Surely that will come off as suspicious. I’ll attract too much attention,” Loki argued, looking angrier by the second.

“I’m counting on it, sweetheart. I never bring anyone but Halu to his parties. The Grandmaster won’t be able to take his eyes off you and I can guarantee he’ll try to steal you out from under me. He hates when I have toys he doesn’t have.”

“So I’m to be bait,” Loki deadpanned.

“I suppose that depends on how you play it. I was thinking of you more as a spy or high-value informant, but if you want to be bait, then I won’t stop you,” you said, grin evident in your tone.

Loki scoffed but reached up and clasped his hand around your outstretched one and hauled himself to his feet. “Fine, we do it your way, Dark Elf.”

As you exited the ship hand in hand with him the thought crossed your mind that, perhaps, he hadn’t put up as much of a fuss with your plan as you’d expected him to.

You wandered through the levels of Grandmaster’s palace, mingling and showing Loki off as you went. You knew by the time you arrived in front of the Grandmaster that he would have heard all about you and your mysterious guest.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find some modicum of comfort in the simple act of holding his hand in this pit of vipers.

Sure enough, the moment you set foot in the same room as him on the forty-ninth floor, he spotted you immediately and made a beeline for you. Topaz followed dutifully behind, glaring murderous daggers at you the whole way.

“23! So good to see you!” Grandmaster said excitedly. You hadn’t seen him this happy to see you in literally thousands of years. “Who’s your fetching little friend?” he asked, saucily-predatory gaze immediately falling to Loki who, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. His hand dropped from yours and he took an objectively graceful (and very dramatic bow) in front of the Grandmaster.

“Your greatness, Grandmaster! I’ve heard so much about you from 23! Her tales of your illustriousness and impeccable taste didn’t do you justice. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Loki simpered. You rolled your eyes, thankful the mask hid your expression from all present.

The Grandmaster tittered happily, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh my! Well aren’t you just a little sweet-talker,” he gushed, already smitten with Loki as you knew he would be. Damned fool was too susceptible to flattery.

“Kiss ass,” Topaz said in disgust, just as charming as ever.

Grandmaster waved her comments away. “Now now, Topaz. They’re our guests. 23 always brings me interesting things.”

You didn’t miss the way Loki bristled a bit at being called a thing. You came to his rescue almost without thinking about it, though you knew your words would only make the Grandmaster want Loki more. “I’m sorry, Grandmaster, but he’s not for sale. I’m afraid I’ve become quite taken with this one and he’s one of a kind,” you said, surprising Loki by reaching up to tuck one of his locks of raven black hair back behind his ear. His eyes flashed warily to you, but his posture was still relaxed enough that neither Topaz nor the Grandmaster picked up on his surprise. “I do, however, see a few other guests I’ve not talked with in some time. Shall I leave the two of you to get to know each other better while I catch up with old friends?” you asked placatingly. You didn’t like the way Topaz was gripping the melt stick.

At this, the Grandmaster surged forward and took Loki around the shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile at the look of abject horror on Loki’s face as he was shepherded away by the Grandmaster.

“I’ll find you later, love! Have fun!” you said cheerfully, biting back a laugh at Loki’s look of betrayal while the Grandmaster chattered his ear off.

Good luck, you thought to yourself. Loki was charming enough that you knew there was no way the Grandmaster would kill him, but getting him back before you left might prove difficult.

Luckily, the Grandmaster’s parties lasted days. You had plenty of time.

You’d been to the Grandmaster’s palace enough times that, even with all the renovations and redesigns, you managed to make it to the nearest bar on the first try. She should be- Sure enough, you spotted the head of brown-black hair sitting at the bar working through what looked like an entire keg of ale.

You crossed the room and sat down beside Scrapper 142. She was so sauced she didn’t even notice you immediately. When she finally looked over at you she did a double-take, then groaned. “Whaddyou want?” she grumped, rewarding herself with another swig of ale for the effort of stringing together an entire two-ish word sentence.

“Am I not allowed to check up on my friends?” you asked kindly, waving the bartender over.

“’M not your friend, Elf. I’m a business rival at best,” 142 griped.

You rested your elbow on the table then cradled your head in your hand. “I’m wounded, 142. And here I was ready to forgive you for poaching on my territory.”

142 rolled her eyes. “You aren’t forgiving shit, both of us know that. Deal was I stop killing your guys and you let me scavenge in your territory once in a while.”

You gave the bartender a grateful nod and began on sipping whatever the hell it was he’d just poured for you. Something fruity and... tasting vaguely of raw meat? You decided not to question it. “I sometimes wonder what I get from that deal,” you said, tone light and teasing with just a hint of business-like threat underneath.

142 turned and leveled a very unfocused glare at you. “Less dead workers, mostly.”

You tilted your head at her, smile dancing on your lips. You really wished this woman didn’t find her salvation at the bottom of a bottle. She would have been so much fun to fight.

142 only glowered harder. “Stop starin’ at me with that creepy fucking mask. Too drunk for this shit right now, 23.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped.

“I hate you.”

You laughed at this, earning a half-hearted shove from 142 that still managed to make you grab the bar so you wouldn’t go tipping off your seat. 142 was too drunk and lazy to leave (free booze was the best kind of booze, after all) but didn’t feel like initiating conversation with you so she buried herself in the bottom of another tankard of mystery ale.

“I met another one today,” you said finally, fingers running over the condensation on your glass.

Even smashed, 142 didn’t miss a beat. “What, another asshole? Plenty’a those around.”

You let out a short breath of a laugh. “No, you complete arse. An Asgardian.”

142 took a long swig of ale and looked as though someone had crapped in it, though you knew it was only her distaste at your news. “An’ why the hell should I care?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. He’s an interesting one is all. I’m keeping him for a while. He’s fun, likes to keep me on my toes.”

142 turned a surprisingly shrewd eye on you and you suddenly felt like you were being x-rayed. Finally, she took another drink, smug smile on her face. “You like him,” she said as she slammed the tankard down on the sleek counter.

Under your mask your cheeks heated at the sudden accusation. “What? No! He’s just the most interesting person on this stupid rock... besides me, of course!” you sputtered.

142 laughed and you nearly smiled with her. She almost never showed any emotion besides annoyance distaste... occasionally smugness.

“Like I said, you like him! That’s some messed up crap, 23. A Dark Elf falling for an Asgardian. That’s a tragedy in the making if I’ve ever heard it.”

“Oh fuck off, 142,” you said with a groan, covering your mask with your hands. “He’s not even truly Asgardian. He’s Frost Giant.”

142 stopped laughing and looked at you at that revelation. “What are you on about? I thought you said he’s Asgardian. I didn’t think I was that drunk... though I should be.”

“He’s Frost Giant blood, Asgardian raised,” you explained, suddenly wishing you had more details. You knew very little of exactly how that had come to pass.

“Bullshit,” 142 concluded, returning to her drinking.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not fucking with you, 142. You’d know that if you just-”

“I’m not going anywhere near ‘im, 23. Now stop going on about it or I’ll stab you,” 142 threatened, holding out a thin pointed dagger for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes. “You and I both know we’d destroy this place before either of us took a hit.”

142 held the dagger at you for a second or two more before she let out a snort and sheathed it back into her boot. “Yeah, you’re right. You may have a stick up your ass, but they built you Elves tough.”

“And you may have a hard head, but they build you Asgardians like ghilres.”

142 turned and stared at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is a ghilre?”

You frowned and tilted your head to the side. “You don’t know about them? Big, strong, four-legged animals with tough hides that not even dark steel could pierce. Very big horns in front. Tiny eyes. Thick skull. Likes ramming things head-on.”

“So... biglesnipes.”

Next Chapter

If you’d like to be tagged in this series, like this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x dark elf!reader #loki laufeyson x dark elf!reader #loki #two of a kind #marvel fanfition #scrapper 142 #valkyrie #loki laufeyson #grandmaster #topaz #the grandmaster

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

No Strings Attached - Pt.8

Y/N vs. The Everything

Type: Modern-college-professor AU x CHUCK, part of Attached series More info here and on the Attached masterlist

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 7100

Summary: It’s time to deal with the fallout of the events at the mall - and you’re not dealing with the all that good. But you’re not alone... not until it’s time to say goodbye at least.

Warnings: mention of gun violence and a GS wound (not reader), blood, hospitals, guilt & angst, the government being noisy af, a bit of fluff, language

A/N: Enjoy and thank you if you’re giving this crossover a chance. You don’t need any knowledge of Chuck, not really. But if want to know a bit, check out this post.

A/N: Having a long week? Have a long chapter 😅 Pretty much the last one from this series.

Attached & No Strings Attached masterlist

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The ride to the hospital seemed fuzzy – everything was.

The bright lights of the ambulance, the smell of antiseptics, Casey’s serious face as he bullied the paramedics into letting you ride with them by flashing his badge.

The crimson of Steve’s blood, then the sharp noise of metal and rubber against the hospital floor as they wheeled Steve into surgery.

On autopilot, you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom and accepted washed clothes, unable to tell in retrospect who had brought it to you.

The bleak blue and grey of the hospital room, the drab white of the sheets. The steady beat of Steve’s heart amplified by the beeping of the machine that monitored it.

He had been lucky they said, it was ‘just a graze’, just as Sarah told you, but you still cried your eyes out, because the doctor could tell you all this information thanks to one simple reason – Steve had listed you as his medical next of kin.

The moment you learned, you didn’t care about the secret Bucky had been keeping from you and, more importantly, Steve; you gladly let him hold you as you broke down.

You must have fallen asleep in his arms too, because the next thing you remembered, you woke up fully clothed in the second bed in Steve’s hospital room otherwise unoccupied. Bucky must have moved you – the realization made your cheeks burn, but only briefly as you spotted him outside of the room, watching Sarah with a scowl on his face just as she knocked on the door.

“Come in-“ you croaked as you sat up, voice still hoarse from the crying.

Clearing your throat when you heard Sarah enter, you glanced towards Steve’s bed. You didn’t know what to expect, but unsurprisingly, he was still there, dosed by pain meds and anaesthetics, looking nearly peaceful as the lullaby of his own heart kept you sane.

Almost unwittingly, you made your way to him, pulling a chair next to his bed and taking a hold of his hand; it made your stomach swim when you noted how pale it was despite having seen it before you had cried yourself to sleep.

“Hey. Sorry to interrupt.” Sarah’s head peaked in, a subtle smile on her face. You nodded, unsure how else to respond. You couldn’t decide whether you were glad she was there to distract you from Steve’s predicament or not. “I know it’s not the best time, but I also think that maybe you’d like to get your mind busy with something else than… well. Steve resting after the surgery. I heard it went well. I’m glad.”

Reciprocating her smile, you beckoned her to come in. She had a point, you supposed, and she was so softspoken and respectful that you would actually feel mad at yourself if you sent her away. However, you were taken aback when you spotted the thin folder in her hand with a distinct logo on it; a coat of arms with an eagle’s head. The words you couldn’t make out, but your mind generously filled in the blanks.

Central intelligence agency.

Sarah’s mission was accomplished – this certainly distracted you effectively from the man lying in the hospital bed. Your eyebrows rose automatically, your heart skipping a startled beat. What was that about?

Sarah was clearly about to tell you, but it took everything in you not to fire out questions.

“Thanks,” you said instead, acknowledging Sarah’s courtesy.

The corners of her lips rose higher as she nodded, placing a chair on the opposite side of the bed, though in considerably larger distance than you had.

“I’m here to tell you a little something about the position you’ve earned by completing the test with such a high score--- it’s just an offer, and I don’t expect an answer right now,” she added quickly when she saw your expression that for sure screamed NO.

She stood up and handed you the file and your shaking fingers reluctantly clasped around it – but you laid it down on Steve’s bed, not bothering to reading it. Yet. Ever, probably.

Sarah’s face spoke of compassion and understanding at your actions.

“Like I said – no one expects you to decide right now. There’s some intel in the folder you can read through later. I just thought I’d give you a way to pass the time until he wakes up.”

You eyed the folder with the imposing logo on it, your stomach twisting. Everything in you screamed to burn that thing without even taking a closer look at it.

Alright, maybe not everything in you, there was a tiny part of you that you hated to acknowledge, one that whispered in curiosity, but you stomped on it harshly before it could get louder.

Steve got shot because of this. You had been shot at before you even knew you could become a part of this. There was no way you were willingly about to become a part of something like this… right? Your hand squeezed Steve’s with force, trying to ground yourself and face the blond spy seated in front of you.

“Okay. Thank you… I think.”

“There’s one more thing that’s not in the folder.”

You gulped, gaze flickering to Steve��s face instinctively, your heart pounding in your ribcage. Why did you have a feeling it concerned him too? The idea genuinely scared you.

“O-okay? What is it?”

As it turned out, there was no reason to be afraid. However, it was the best opportunity to get pissed to a point where you’d swear your blood boiled.

Your head swam, loud dull thumping in your ears as Sarah broke the news as gently as possible – but there was no way to say this in a way that wouldn’t make you want to scream.

Because they had no fucking right.

Then again, they did, right? They were an intelligence agency; gathering intel about people was what they did.

“Get the fuck outta here,” you muttered under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, hands curled into fists just so you wouldn’t yell at Sarah.

She was just doing her job – hell, maybe she was just the messenger. But Jesus fuck, you never felt so violated in your life and that was saying something given how up to your relationship with Steve some of the school gossipers were.

Sarah told you they were offering you a scholarship for your current Master’s, plus the programme for the analyst position for free if you chose to join; that was almost sweet.

Except that they went through your bank accounts. The CIA went through your and your parents’ bank accounts, so they knew how shortly after your father had purchased a return plane tickets to New York to visit you, they stopped financially supporting you. And that since then, you had to be careful with your finances.

You wanted to puke, you wanted to scream to the ceiling and at people, you wanted to throw things and then some.

Intelligence agency or not, they had no fucking right to be so invasive and then tell you that you could perhaps benefit from joining the programme.

That sounded a tiny bit like blackmail and you fucking hated them for it.

“I’m sorry. It’s a standard procedure, there’s nothing personal in this,” Sarah whispered as she rose to her feet, her words so sincere you would have believed her if you weren’t furious.

Nothing personal my ass.

“Right,” you commented, unable to keep the bitter sarcasm from your voice. “Glad you told me. I’ll think about it.”

Yeah, not fucking happening.

As if your thoughts were radiating off you – or the woman leaving the room was an extremely observant spy, har har, – she gave a tight-lipped smile. Small, but not ungenuine.

“That’s all we ask. I hope Professor Rogers will get better soon. Good luck. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

That got your attention and sent your train of thought elsewhere – the’ maybe’.

“You’re leaving?”

Sarah shrugged. “We’ll be doing some more tests at the university, but we’ll lay low and will soon be replaced so we can relocate Chuck back to--- where we are usually stationed, as a precaution. So I don’t think we’ll run into each other again unless you’re joining.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach at the idea of joining – but also at the idea of not seeing Chuck or not saying goodbye to him. Despite how gentle Sarah tried to be, Chuck Bartowski was definitely the friendliest from the trio (or quartet, if you counted Natasha Romanoff, you guessed) and was the one to make you feel human in the past two days or so.

Jesus, had it really been less two days? You felt like you aged a decade since this mess started.

“Right. Goodbye then and… thank you,” you added, realizing you might have never said it earlier. “For keeping me safe.”

“You’re welcome. That’s the job.”

“Still,” you insisted, feeling bad for being short with her, as rude as being so invasive like her agency was. You did owe her for still being alive. How crazy was that? “And please… give my best to Chuck? …and Casey too.”

Her smile grew when you hastily added Casey as a courtesy – but you were also genuinely grateful for him enabling you to ride in the ambulance with Steve.

“Of course. Goodbye, Y/N.”

With that, she was out of the door, leaving you alone with your hurricane of thoughts and emotions; and your unconscious recently-shot fiancé.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“It’s not gonna bite you, you know?” a voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, startling you – but simultaneously bringing a smile to your face.

Ignoring the remark, you gladly raised your gaze from the folder you had moved to the nightstand and stared at for what felt like eternity while toying with Steve’s fingers. He still hadn’t woken up – minutes felt like hours, hours like eternity.

“Hey Chuck.”

The man in question gave an awkward wave that made your heart grow in size.

“Hey.”

Still cute. In a very platonic way, of course.

“I’m happy to see you. Heard you were leaving and I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to thank you and say goodbye.”

A pleased smile to lit up his expression at your admission.

“Me too! It would feel wrong to just… vanish. And I, uhm,” he paused as his hand slid into the left pocket of his jacket, waving the item he pulled out at you. “I brought you something.”

It took you four seconds of squinting to identify the object as a phone. A phone that looked suspiciously like yours.

But that--- that couldn’t be. Right? It must have had been beyond saving. It had caught a knife through; that must have cracked not only the screen but everything.

“How-“

“Let’s say the US government owed you a new one,” Chuck exclaimed cheerfully, grinning as he made his way to you to hand you the device.

It really looked precisely like the model you had. But… seriously? The government was sending you a new phone? That sounded fishy. Was it so they could spy on you?

Okay, you were really getting paranoid. Could anyone blame you though?

“Oh. Oh, that’s… really generous?” you said hesitantly, a silent question in your eyes as your gaze roamed Chuck’s face.

His smile was easy, if little embarrassed.

“Yeah, well, technically, it’s the US citizens who’s paying, so…” he shrugged it off, scratching his nape right after, a little colour rushing to his cheeks. ”I eh, I kinda work with electronics in my everyday life, so… I took the liberty and tried to salvage what I could from the one Sarah murdered with her knife and… here we go. Good as new, because it’s, well, new, and all data preserved.”

At that, your jaw dropped.

For one, you were sure that if Chuck went through the phone, there were no bugs (…right?) and he--- he actually went through the trouble of trying to save your stuff? How incredibly sweet and thoughtful was that?

Not that you weren’t delighted and relieved that you wouldn’t have to spend money on a new phone to begin with, but this? Chuck Bartowski was a godsent.

You jumped to your feet, impulsively throwing your arms around him, squeezing him with all your might with gratitude.

“Oh my god, Chuck, that’s amazing! Thank you!” you muttered into his shoulder, noting that a few tears involuntarily escaped your eyes… it had been a long day, alright. But as quickly as you hugged him, you let the poor man go before he could reciprocate. “When did you even had time to do that?”

The guardian angel of your phone data just shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“It was no problem and it didn’t take that long. Like I said, all in the days’ work.”

It was not. He had obligation whatsoever. And yet he had done this for you. What did it make him besides like, perfect?

“Well, you’re my hero now.”

“Pretty sure that’s him,” Chuck hummed, unsubtly pointing his thumb to Steve’s temporary bed.

Maybe it was Chuck’s warm presence, but it seemed that Steve’s skin was gaining more colour and along with that, life returned to your veins as did hope. You turned back to Chuck with a small smile playing in the corner of your lips.

“Well, I heard you helped to take down the other bad guy, so… kudos. I mean it. That was crazy brave and smart thinking,” you complimented.

Unwillingly, you recalled more than Chuck’s actions; glum returned to your mind as the memory of the flashing lights of the ambulance hit you, blood seeping through Steve’s shirt. Your throat felt tight again, your next words barely pushed through.

“But yeah, Steve… he’s my hero too. But I think I’d prefer having a—breathing coward, which he is not by any means, than a--- non-breathing hero.” You shook your head – shaking off the memories and reminding yourself that Steve was gonna be fine. He had to be. And he saved your life, so that was something. “But I guess it helps he literally caught a bullet for me. I just hope this is the only time it happens.”

Chuck’s gaze flickered to the folder on the nightstand.

“It’s a crazy world we offer you to join in.”

‘Crazy’ was one word for it; but not the one you would use, should you rely on your experience so far.

“Looks less crazy and more like very painful to me. Rather lonely too,” you pondered, noticing the tinniest rise of one corner of Chuck’s lips, his hands slipping into the front pockets of his jeans.

“You consider joining to make it less lonely for others like us?”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth flickering in your chest. Dammit. He’d better stop being so cute when asking shit like that. That was blackmail too. Like, innocent and ingenuous blackmail.

“I don’t know, Chuck…” you whispered, gaze shifting to Steve, a reminder why there was only one possible answer. This could never happen again; not to Steve, not to you. “Just what happened today… I know I probably wouldn’t be in a gunfight every day, being an analyst, but things can get off rails and… there would be lies and secrets and--- no privacy, clearly, since you just had my bank records checked as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do and… I don’t want to get hurt. I certainly don’t want Steve to get hurt ever again.”

Chuck’s smile was compassionate and it made you feel a little better about leaving him in the lurch alone. Did that make you a bad person? A selfish one? Maybe. But not everyone could be Steve Rogers or Chuck Bartowski.

“I understand. You have a choice. I didn’t have that – and I’m not entirely sure what I’d do, knowing what was gonna happen if I had it,” he admitted. “And I know I’m kinda shooting myself in a foot here--- excuse the pun! But… I’m not gonna tell you that people you care about are always gonna be safe if you join.”

Cold fist squeezed your heart at the idea. As if you already didn’t know you didn’t want to join. Hearing this from Chuck who could speak from experience? It made your head spin and your stomach turn.

You were no hero – you couldn’t dedicate your life to your country and the rest of the world. You were just one little you and you wanted your little quiet life.

“And there are gonna be lies and secrets, it’s how it works. If someone you care about isn’t getting hurt physically… sometimes they get hurt because you have to disappoint them because of this-- this so-called greater good. And sometimes you just can’t tell them the truth. So yeah. It can be lonely, painful and trust me, insane is on the top of the list,” he emphasized, eyes ridiculously wide.

It made you grin – and the shiver and discomfort from earlier vanished, replaced by a warm feeling of being in a presence of an insanely good and honest person who had undoubtedly been through some serious shit, but remained a human equivalent of sunshine.

“You really aren’t making the best effort to sell this here, Chuck,” you chuckled a bit, hoping he understood it was a compliment to his kind heart.

“It is what it is.”

Indeed. There was one last question remaining. A pointless one perhaps, but you wanted to ask just in case you decided to think it through again; they say you should never say never.

“If I do go into that programme… and I’m good… and then I decide to leave. There will be consequences, won’t they?” you asked quietly, earning a grimace from Chuck and a so-so motion of his hand. “They’d take their money back if nothing else, that would be fair, I suppose… but if I’m really good, they won’t even let me go, will they?”

Chuck didn’t hesitate longer than two seconds before he answer with a sigh: “No. I don’t think they will.”

Well, okay, that was another big reason for no.

“Thanks for being honest.”

He just shrugged again, his eyes softening.

“Look… I lucked out. I trust Sarah and Casey with my life. Maybe you would too with your handlers, I don’t know. All I know that even though I have to lie to everyone I know and it affected my life in ways I hate--- I’m doing some good too. Sometimes in unorthodox ways, like when we disarmed a bomb by entering pornsite-”

You nearly chocked on air. Say WHAT?!

“Don’t ask,” Chuck chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile on his face.

“Right. Gotta say that sounds unorthodox for sure. I guess you do have some funny stories to throw in besides the… well. Terrible ones. The thing is… well. Unlike me, you have an extra reason to stay.”

You couldn’t but smirk, not having missed the affection he spoke Sarah’s name with; or how it was written all over his face whenever she was in the room. Chuck was obviously a goner for her – and you didn’t blame him.

A hot sweet badass agent, probably saving his life on regular basis? Who wouldn’t fall for that?

“Huh?”

You shot him a look that hopefully spoke thousands of words and every single one of them told him not to try spewing bullshit.

Chuck cleared his throat, eyes widening a fraction, blush heating up his cheeks.

“Maybe. Then you have an extra reason not to join the mad-wagon we are.”

And wasn’t that the point... one of them anyway.

“Yeah, sounds about right. But it’s not just Steve. I don’t think I’m built for something like this… then again, it can’t be all that bad if people like you are a part of it,” you contemplated with a smile, the red in Chuck’s cheeks only intensifying. You felt only a little bad for being the cause. “Or Bucky for that matter, Christ, I’m still processing that. Just… what I want to say is… thank you, Chuck. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

He gave you his signature lopsided smile along with an awkward wave and turned to leave the room – and probably, your life too. It felt wrong; you didn’t thank him enough and you wished you could perhaps talk a little bit more. About anything. There was just something about him….

“Chuck, wait!”

“Yeah?” he eyed you curiously, closing the door again.

You supposed that if nothing else, you owed him one thing. One thing that had been brought up in conversation between the two of you and you had changed the subject. Telling him could be a nice parting gift, no matter how embarrassing for you, right?

Biting down on your lip, you tried to ignore how you already felt your face burning.

“Can you keep a secret?” you asked, which earned you a glare questioning whether you were thinking you were being funny.

You snorted and took a deep breath, staring at Chuck’s chest for you were unable to meet his eyes.

“The thing you asked about earlier… me and Steve. Eh, I write sometimes? And uhm… I happened to write a story about Steve--- well, an imaginary professor who was a lot like him. And I accidently sent it instead of an assignment. To Bucky… who happens to be Steve’s best friend, so there was no way he didn’t recognize the template for the character. Obviously, he had to share. So… you can imagine the rest. That’s how Steve and I got together.”

The brilliant smile that brightened up Chuck’s face was totally worth the embarrassment, even if his nose scrunched in bewilderment.

“Thanks for telling me! But that… does categorize as a meet-cute, I think,” he wondered, his confusion only understandable.

Purposely, you had been a little vague. It made sense he’d think the meeting was cute. Too embarrassed to add the crucial detail, you just made a so-so motion with your hand, questioning the claim.

Chuck, the brilliant guy, caught up though.

“Oh…? OH!” Chuck cried out, realization slapping him in the face. “The story, it was… kinda--- well-“

“Dirty?” you pipped up helpfully, earning an affirmative hum. His face was so hilarious that you barely found the admission awkward. “Yeah. Pretty much filthy, to be honest.”

His jaw went slack, his eyes measuring you head-to-toe as if seeing you in completely new light; but there was no disgust, no judgement... ironically enough, it almost seemed as if there was a int of admiration.

“Sorry, just… processing. It’s still kinda cute. In a very… explicit-rated way.” You snorted in amusement as he searched for words, heart light at his easy acceptance. “Given the fact that I had my fair share of e-mail mishaps and the last time I got an important e-mail, it was filled with government secrets that are now downloaded into my brain… I think you did alright.”

This time, you chuckled breathlessly, not bothering to try and wrap your head around the new piece of information. Instead, you let the grin threatening to tear your mouth glow.

“Well. My e-mail mishap seems to have a happy ending. I hope yours does too, Chuck.”

He grinned right back at you.

“Poetic, I like it,” he commented. “I guess I’ll have to go to meet that end now. But eh… if you decide to go into that programme or, even if don’t and you just wanna chat about this with someone who isn’t your fiancé, or to hang out over the phone or whatever… reach out.”

Your heart skipped a happy beat and you couldn’t but raise your arms in to offer a hug this time. And Chuck, the sunshine boy he was, obviously accepted, wrapping his long arms around you gently, if briefly.

“I’ll remember that and I think I might take you up on--- wait, but I don’t have-“

“I kinda saved it to your phone. You might wanna set a lock on that new thing…” Chuck advised sheepishly.

“Wow. Presumptuous.”

“That’s not--- I wasn’t-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering to Steve’s bed as if you fiancé could regain consciousness now when it looked like Chuck was hitting on you. You wished – the wake-up part, not the flirting. “You can always delete it.”

“Please, I’m messing with you. Thank you, Chuck, and… good luck. With her, among other things.”

He just opened his mouth, no sound coming out. He couldn’t deny his feelings for Sarah; anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see it.

“Thanks… I think. Take care.”

“I’ll try. Goodbye, Chuck.”

“Fare the well, my friend,” he exclaimed theatrically, bringing another smile to your face and as the door clicked behind him, you felt exactly like it was what had happened when you met Chuck.

That you found a new friend.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“Thought you didn’t want people to know about your writing,” a scratchy voice interrupted your mindless stare, still fixated at the door Chuck had just left through.

Your head snapped to the bed an instant, feet moving before you could think twice.

“Steve! Oh my god-”

With heart leaping to your throat, you barely stopped yourself before you could smother Steve in a bone-crushing hug. It took all your willpower to only carefully take a seat on the bed by his waist, clasping his unharmed hand between yours.

“…hi,” he croaked, squinting at you sleepily, testing how much he could shuffle around.

Gaze quickly finding the of the cup of water on the nightstand, you let go of Steve and attempted to – albeit clumsily – help him up a bit. The warmth of his back was bliss, a prove of life much like the healthier colour in his cheeks. You held out the water with a straw for him, earning a grateful smile once he finished.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You just shook your head at him thanking you for being a decent human being, blinking away tears that somehow gathered in your eyes. Of course he was being painfully polite and sweet even in a moment like this.

Slowly breathing in and out to calm down, you tried and failed to smile back, the curl of your lips more of a grimace.

“How are you feeling?”

“Eh- “ he huffed, eyes still misted over as he thought hard about the answer, assessing his state. It took him too long to your liking and you felt your heart sinking and quickening at once. “Tired for sure, everything kinda hurts and flows, but the memory of what happened is surprisingly sharp…”

Air stuck in your throat at his admission.

Had he not remembered, things might have gone differently at the moment. But he did and it was like a switch flipped in your brain.

You exploded; all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface and sometimes peeking out firing up at once.

Guilt. Fear. Anger.

“Oh good, you DO remember! What were you thinking?! You caught a bullet for me! And passed out on me! You scared me to death! Jesus, Steve, what the hell?!” you cried out, jumping to your feet as you felt like actually hitting him to make him understand how incredibly fucking stupid he had been. “If I knew this was gonna happen I would have never EVER asked you to come! Jesus fucking Christ, you got shot!”

Your voice broke at the last word, nothing but a croak as the sheer horror-like memory of blood and his limp body overwhelmed you, forcing you to turn over and squeeze your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to erase the memory that was seared into your brain.

You took in a deep breath, your body trembling as you tried to swallow the sobs threatening to claw up your throat.

Instead, your tears were silent as you stared on a blank wall, wishing your mind could be similarly void of anything; but your heart and lungs felt heavy as if filled with lead instead.

“I offered.”

His voice was so quiet you almost missed it, wondering if you imagined it. But when you swiftly spun on your heel to face Steve, he was gazing up at you with eyes so sincere it almost overshadowed the bruise-like circles under his eyes.

And you had no idea what he was talking about.

“What?”

“Me, coming with you. You didn’t ask for it, I offered,” Steve clarified, one corner of his lips rising in a resemblance of a boyishly innocent smile that would have taken your breath away hadn’t his words lit up a flare of anger in your chest.

That was what he took from what you said?!

“Because you’re an idiot!” you shrieked, throwing your hands in the air.

His smile grew a tad amused, one eyebrow quirking. Darn it, could he stop being adorable for just a second-!

Pressing your lips together, you shook your head and slowly sat down by his thighs, tired of fighting the visceral need to touch him, hold him and never let go just so he wouldn’t do anything stupid again.

He interlaced his fingers with yours, eyes clearing as you blinked away your tears.

“My idiot,” you added in a conciliatory manner. “I love how much you care about me, I love you, but fuck don’t you ever do that again!”

Steve pondered for a moment as if he wanted to test your patience – but after all that happened, it was a dangerous game to play.

“I was lucky-” he stared off at last and you couldn’t agree more, fear creeping into your voice.

“Yes, yes you were. Could have been worse than a ‘graze’, Steve. But seriously, I don’t see how something that bleeds so much categorizes as a graze.”

Steve shook his head gingerly, his smile gaining a bit of a patronizing edge.

“Could have been you. I was lucky to react fast and cover you,” he elaborated slowly, eyes intently boring into yours, making your heart race as you suddenly understood what he was saying.

Better me than you.

Better my bicep than your head – just like Casey had said.

You understood why he felt like that, you knew that in a purely pragmatic way, he was right, but… couldn’t it had been that no one got shot? Why couldn’t it go as simple as that, no bigger or lesser evil? Just you and Steve, happily ever after, safe and sound and in love.

And love was all you saw, the mist of pain barely noticeable in Steve’s eyes as he was trying to be strong for you. As he was trying to tell you that it was okay, when in fact, it wasn’t.

Nothing was okay.

You didn’t realize your lips started wobbling until a sob fought its way out thought them, the dam of breaking and releasing tears to run freely down your face.

And with it, you broke too.

Sobs shook your body, vision blurring as you tried to stifle the sounds of pure misery erupting from your throat.

In the back of your mind, you knew the scene was ironic; you two in a hospital room, because Steve had gotten shot, but here you were, being the one on the verge of insanity. It was absurd of you to feel like losing your mind instead of consolidating Steve.

And apparently, it was about to get even more absurd as Steve’s hushed voice called your name.

“Oh no, babygirl. Come here.”

A hiss escaped him as he scooted closer, instinctively leaning onto the injured arm, but that was all indication of pain you got before his arm reached out to embrace your trembling form.

And you let him. You allowed him to hold you tight, face burying in the terrible hospital gown smelling of antiseptics and anxiety, but it was still Steve to you – him, his warm presence, his beating heart in your ear, his chapped lips on the top of your head.

“Shh, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m okay-”

“Liar,” you choked out between the sobs, desperately trying to just stop shaking.

Woman up, dammit!

“Well, I’m gonna be okay,” Steve corrected himself, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I love you. We’re okay. We’re okay.”

Were you? And what if you weren’t? More precisely, what if he wasn’t? Huh?! What then?!

“You could—could’ve been ki-“

“So could you,” he reminded you, somewhat gentle despite how petrifying his words were. “But we’re fine, we’ll be just fine…”

“I was so scared-“

“Me too, babygirl. Me too. And not just for you, for me too. That’s normal,” he assured you, fingers softly treading through your locks as he spoke.

Logically, you knew Steve was right, that no matter how absurd your breakdown was, it was perfectly justifiable; but logic was not on the menu for your brain today.

God, you were exhausted. You didn’t even have energy to cry anymore, sobs minutely subduing.

“You still came, even when scared,” you breathed out, shifting in his embrace to look at his face, noticing how his eyes turned glassy. “You came and protected me.”

“Of course I did. You’re my--- oh babygirl…” he rasped, gazing up and blinking away the few solitary tears in his eyes. Never finishing the sentence as if he wasn’t sure how, he smiled a bit; pained and somehow proud when he refocused on you. “You still came too. To help them catch the bad guy.”

You scoffed at the comparison. “Not like I really had a choice.”

“Yes, you did. You could have stayed hidden and have them sort it out in some other way. You just decided not to,” he argued, expression grave, forcing you to consider what he was saying.

Was he really trying to say that you had been brave?

Was that what it was? Was there a little piece of courage in your decision? You thought it was all choosing between an option that sucked and one that sucked more, and you chose the less tedious but more dangerous way.

Naturally, you had no doubt about Steve’s courage when he chose to go with you.

Was it fair to assume that a part of you truly was brave as well?

The faith in Steve’s eyes was all the answer you needed, acceptable at least for now.

“…Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision,” you muttered, the words falling from your lips before you could think twice.

The brilliant smile and the kiss Steve graced you with was the best reward.

“Exactly. Look at my smart girl quoting Churchill.”

Before you could respond, his lips attached to yours again, wet and salty due to your tears, fresh ones he chased and caught when they rolled down your cheeks, brushed away by his whiskers.

The tenderness of his mouth and hands had your heart ache, ribcage tight and lips hungry for his; your fingers sunk into his locks to pull him in for another kiss, a dance desperate for life.

Life.

You swiftly let go and retreated when as your brain cleared, a breathy apology on your lips.

“I’m sorry, this gotta to be really painful and I should be the one to comfort you and-“

“No,” Steve chuckled, panting, a subtle grimace of pain revealing his lie. “I mean, yeah, it hurts, but I really just want to hold you now. And kiss you. A lot.”

Who were you to deny an injured man, one you loved and one so damn charming even in a hospital gown no less? It was unfair, really, he fought dirty against the voice reason.

Good thing logic was not on the menu today indeed.

“Okay. I guess that can be arranged.”

Pecking his lips, you helped him lie down and curled by his side, not protesting when he hugged you closer but revelling in it instead.

“You’re my everything,” he whispered to your hair, causing your heart to stutter, happily so, even if more tears threatened to escape your eyes.

His earlier actions left no doubt – he spoke the ultimate truth, as scary and beautiful it was.

Before you hid your face in the crook of his neck, telling yourself the nurses could live five more minutes without knowing he was awake, you confessed you felt the same.

“You’re my everything too. And I’m not letting anything or anyone to get between us. Especially some damn spies.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Chuck couldn’t help it – he watched through the opened blinds on the window to the hall as the two lovebirds reunited with a storm of emotions that inevitably ended with them snuggled to each other’s side.

It was like a rom-com despite the initial fight Chuck couldn’t make out, but identified by Y/N’s expression and loud voice. And now the pair crammed on the single bed as if there was no other space in the room for Y/N to be.

“Looks like you made a friend,” Sarah’s voice interrupted his shameless spying, having him snap his head to her with a wistful smile.

Damn, she looked gorgeous with her hair up in a ponytail, making her beautiful features stand out. He almost forgot what she said, too distracted by her charms.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she chuckled brightly, crossing her arms on her chest. “You seemed to hit it off pretty well if you ask me.”

“Well, she’s nice and funny…” Chuck shrugged, sparing one more glance at the pair through the window, unable to get rid of the intrusive thought of what if the operation in the mall ended up worse. And many other what ifs. “…and this could have been me, you know?”

Sarah’s smile fell, eyes flickering to the subject of their mission without a word.

“Taking that test… if someone had figured out all those years ago that my score was that high… I could have been where she is now.” Minus a shot significant other. Probably. “But it wasn’t. I got framed for cheating and got kicked out, only for the Intersect to find its way to me again. Funny how life works.”

It was not funny at all. But standing there, with Sarah, who let him ponder without necessarily intervening, her mere presence a comfort and so much more, he couldn’t but admit that you were right, as if he hadn’t known before.

He did have an extra reason to stay.

“Guess it was all for a reason,” Sarah hummed, tone gentle as the brush of her fingers over his arm.

“Yeah… and it turned out there wouldn’t have been a choice for me. Is there gonna be one for her?” he asked, only for Sarah to avert his gaze. “I mean… if she says no. Will they respect her decision and let her go?”

“I don’t know, Chuck. Like you said, there was never gonna be a choice with you. Once the agency got your results, they wanted you. The circumstances had it that they didn’t get their hands on you then, but they were right. You turned out to be a great asset on many occasions. I don’t see how they’re gonna pass on an opportunity like that,” she said, eyes big and genuine, hope and regret mirroring in them all the same. “But I honestly don’t know.”

“So what happens now?”

Chuck jumped good two feet above the ground when a male voice sneaked behind him, a tiny yelp escaping him.

“And what’s the cover story?” agent Barnes continued, appearing by Sarah’s side, posture defensive – but not enough to intimidate Sarah.

Like there was anything to intimidate her but talking about her past.

“You guys here keep an eye on her. Whatever her choice is – if there is a choice at all… the local university unit will make sure she’s safe, just in case,” she added, unfazed by Barnes’ questions.

“Right… just in case,” Barnes sighed, eyes fixed on his alleged best friend hugging his fiancée close, completely disregarding his injury.

Chuck felt cold ghost-like fingers creep up his spine when after being distracted by the sheer romance he remembered that the poor man got shot.

“She’ll be okay. She’s got good people looking after her,” Sarah offered with a slight curl to her lips and Chuck couldn’t but agree. He had seen Romanoff, Barnes and Rogers in action alright. Good people.

“Yeah, she does.”

“As for the story, we inform the press as truthfully as possible without revealing much,” Sarah added in a matter-of-fact voice. “There was a shooting at the mall, one civilian shot, but not in critical condition. We got a tip that a man who we’ve been looking for was spotted and the situation got a little messy, because he had two accomplices.”

At that, Barnes frowned – Chuck would too, but he had learned to trust Sarah… and Casey, as much as the man kept growling at him whenever he could.

“People saw. Someone might be able to identify Steve or his girl. Question their involvement. They were wearing vests, as Y/N brilliantly showed when doing striptease-”

“No one will believe those people. If we’re smart when spreading the news, we’ll be fine. Details given to the press by the witnesses about vests and such will not be considered credible – not by decent media anyway,” Sarah shrugged, this time almost clinical – and scary. “As for your friends, there’s no problem with them being present in the first place. They were identified at the photos taken at the mall just two hours before the shooting after all. Rogers got hurt protecting his fiancée, that’s true and it might make him a university hero for a while, but that’s all. Don’t worry about that, Agent Barnes.”

Barnes flinched at the addressing, a resemblance of a sheepish smile passing his lips.

“Eh. Still getting used to that. I just hope you’re right about this. It was nice working with you, Walker, I like your knifework. Carmichael.”

Right. Carmichael. Barnes didn’t know Chuck’s real last name… not many people did from the spyworld, but it was still hard to keep track.

And just like Barnes appeared, he silently took off; not before sparing a glance at the pair still clinging to each other.

“We should go. You know Casey, he’ll get all growly if we’re late,” Sarah joked lightly, beckoning to the exit. “They’ll be okay. We did good. You did good. Come on.”

And just like Barnes, Chuck just hoped Sarah was right about this. It was the only thing that allowed him to leave and follow Sarah – well, that, and the fact it was her asking.

It was time to go and close this chapter.

…

That night, the joined database of the CIA and the NSA was hacked without any trace left. The only thing missing, as found much later, were the records of three students’ tests.

Only very few people knew that one of them happened to be the one with the highest score.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Words that Hang in the Air (next in timeline)

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading 💕

By the way, once they are out of hospital and Steve feels a bit better, they’ll totally have a passionate “We’re alive sex”, okay.

Also. I can tell you the two other students’ results that got deleted were just not to be too obvious about Y/N’s, but I’m not telling who exactly hacked the database. I’d love to hear your tips ;)

I mean… Was it Bucky? Maybe he convinced Natasha to do it? Was it Chuck who works with electronics and especially computers in his civilian life and wants Y/N to stay out of this life unlike him? Or did Chuck kept asking Sarah to do it until she gave in? Was it Casey, who grunts around, but totally ships it, because in heart he is a big softie and can respect Professor loverboy Rogers for getting shot protecting his loved one? Was it Tony Stark, aka genius philanthropist, who happens to be Steve’s so-so friend and does not care for Fury’s BS? Or maybe it was someone else…

I’m gonna shut up now.

OH! This is kinda like a last chapter, but a two-shot will closely follow 😇

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dracos-den · 3 years

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After the success of our first multi-group writing challenge back in October 2020, we are back with a brand new challenge for you to participate in this Spring! The admin teams of Draco’s Den, Excelsior Fanfiction, Hermione’s Haven, Marvelously Magical Fanfiction, Melting Pot Fanfiction, NaNo Misfits, and Wizarding Crossover Connection are so excited for this event and all the amazing stories that are going to come out of the event!

The admin team at Melting Pot Fanfiction ran this event three years ago and we are so excited to be bringing this event back and sharing it with even more people.

This laid back challenge is to get everyone ready for Camp NaNoWriMo by getting in the habit of writing something every single day. Participants are welcome to select any fandom(s), pairing(s) and character(s) to write for each prompt over the month of March. There’s a challenge for everyone!

A closer look at the rules regarding this event can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qHVWxsI59mduikoysGYHLIkJH5KFqua_L2Bvm7zWOHY/view?usp=sharing

You can join any of the groups listed below to sign up and join us!

@dracos-den @hermiones-haven @mrvlmagic @excelsior-fanfiction @melting-pot-fanfiction @xover-connection

#31 days of shipping challenge #31daysofshipping #writing event #writing every day #Hermione’s haven #dracosden #wizardingcrossoverconnection #excelsior fanfiction #melting pot fanfition #marvelously magical fanfiction

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thepotoooooooo · 3 years

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Finding Home by cywsaphyre

Harry Potter x The Avengers : Complete

“ When Harry finally accepted the fact that he had stopped aging, ten years had passed and he knew it was time to leave. AU “

#fanfition #hpfanfiction #harry potter #fic rec #marvel #marvelfanfiction #avengers fanfiction #finding home #cywsaphyre #crossover #xover

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smolpeachyme · 3 years

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Marvel fics anyone?

so I'm like back at being obsest with Marvel again and want to read more Marvel fanfics. dose any body have any suggestions for good any marvel character x reader fics? on like Tumblr, Ao3 or wattpad.

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

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Headcanons?

I wanna write but I don’t even know what I wanna write. So let’s do some headcanons. All my usual guidelines apply; I’ll write what I can/what I have inspo for, I reserve the right to not respond, blah blah blahhhhh.

Send ‘em to my ask box, babes. I am ready.

#marvel #fanfition #headcanons #do the thing #ask arrowsandmixtapes

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orangeboulevard · 3 months

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Two: Talking Back (Marvel, Male!OC x AndrewGarfield!Spiderman)

Day two of the prompts, this one is regrettably shorter than I'd like but it's been a busy day.

Summary: Spider-Man is caught in an act of vandalism, luckily for him the officer arresting him is total eye-candy.

Words: 533

"What do you think you're doing?" A deep voice startled Peter Parker, the spandex-clad male almost dropped his phone.

Peter investigated the source of the voice through the tinted lenses of his suit, a police officer -possibly in his mid to late thirties, cuffs and his gun attached to his belt, surprisingly handsome- stood looking at him expectantly with his hands on his hips. Peter coughed awkwardly and tried to shuffle to the right, trying and failing to cover up the artwork he had graffitied onto a random wall.

"... Drugs."

"Funny. Get over here now."

"I don't usually like my men so bold, take me to dinner first, geez."

The officer's stone expression did not shift, if Peter didn't have unnatural abilities that allowed him to see ten times better than the average human, he would have missed how the sides of the officer's lip quirked upwards.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be-" Peter snorted. "-I need to take you into custody."

"Wait, what? Nuh-uh." Peter grabbed his backpack, it contained all his spray paints and school equipment. "I'm sorry, okay. Is that good? Can I go?"

"I'm afraid not, I need you to step over here."

"Officer-" Peter glanced at his name card, "-Matthews. Officer Matthews, I'm sorry really but I have stuff to do! Crime fighting, babe saving, etcetera. Can't you just lay off this time?"

Officer Matthews clicked his tongue as he undid his cuffs from his belt. He took the shorter masked man and patted him down for any weapons; he started to repeat the Miranda Rights as was the law.

"Come on, officer," The spandex-clad man whined as he was pushed onto the hood of a cop car.

The police officer clicked the pair of steel cuffs around the younger man's wrists, "You've already had a warning when it comes to your graffiti, you were told that if you were caught doing it again, you would be facing charges."

The masked vigilante yelped as he was pulled to his feet with surprising strength, "Wow, and I thought we lived in a free country. You just can't handle my artistic expression! Damn, you're strong."

The officer ignored that last comment, "It's vandalism. End of. Don't whine too much, you'll probably just have to pay a fine." He guided Spider-Man to the side of his car, opening the door for the cuffed man.

"In this economy?" Spider-Man asked with an incredulous tone, "Do you think I get paid to do this?"

"You know how I told you that you have the right to remain silent?"

"Yeah?"

"Exercise that right." The officer pushed the lanky man into the car, ignoring his protests and not-so-subtle attempts at flirtation, he closed the door behind the man. The officer walked around and sat in the driver's seat, sighing as he ran a hand down his face.

"Hey, man. You look way too handsome to be that tired. Wait, how old are you? Definitely bee-keeping age. Are you single-" The window between the front and the back seats slid shut with a slam.

#fanfic #fanfition #romance #unrequited love #humor #spiderman #marvel x male reader #spiderman x oc #Spiderman x male!oc #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #Prompted #ficlet

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guildedlily6 · 4 years

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Peter Parker or JJ Maybank

Alright, so I’m actually going to force myself to write because I’ve put it off long enough. I might make certain dates for myself in which I will consistently post stories, or I might just try to post more fanfics without set dates. For new stories, would you (whoever might be reading this. Might be no one.) rather read a Peter Parker fan fiction, or a JJ fanfiction?

#peter parker fanfiction #jj fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfition #marvel fanfiction #jj maybank

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fadingcoast · 4 years

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Death Of The Lie || Chapter 26: Uncovered

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: Multi RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 26: Uncovered

The chill humid air of the Alfheim lake filled Loki with the warmth of familiarity, giving him a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was only allowed to enjoy it for a second, however, before a pulse of magnetic energy emanated from where they had apparated.

“That was the alarm,” Loki warned Hela, his magic already weakened by the effect of the pulse. “The guards will be here in seconds.”

Hela nodded her understanding, and struggled to summon a long black cape to cover herself with, while Loki sent a small magical token Hela did not know where.

Several soldiers materialized in front of them, closing in like shadows coming from the trees. All escape routes were covered, their combined magic annulling any attempts of teleporting again. Instinctively Loki put himself between Hela and the soldiers, straightening his spine and taking a deep breath to draw the attention away from her.

“I am-”

“LOKI!?!”

The familiar voice brought a smile to Loki’s face. But he didn’t have time to speak before a plasma blast hit him full on the chest.

“I KNEW IT!!” Another blast knocked him backward. “I KNEW YOU WERE ALIVE!!” Loki tried to shield himself, but his seidr was barely recovering. “YOU MISERABLE LITTLE RAT!” Yet another blast. In all honesty, Loki didn’t mind much. He felt he deserved it. “HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME??!” Another blast that hit him right on his lower belly.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please stop!”

Loki was bent over himself, hand held up to make Sigyn stop. Between all the wincing and the burning, he still smiled at her. It only infuriated her more. She glared down at him, hands clenched in two tight fists. Loki straightened up slowly and walked closer, reaching for her hands.

“I am so terribly sorry, my queen-”

Sigyn kneed him right on the groin and he doubled down in pain again.

“I probably deserve that as well,” he admitted in a little voice.

“I hope, for your own sake, that you have an extremely good explanation for all this!”

“He does.”

Sigyn turned to face the cloaked figure that had stood behind Loki. Hela uncovered her head and held herself proudly. She hadn’t even opened her mouth when Sigyn bowed low to the ground.

“Your majesty,” she said with great reverence.

The Alfar guards, though clearly confused, lowered their weapons and took Sigyn’s lead. Each one knelt even lower than their Princess.

A glint of satisfaction sparkled in Hela’s eyes, though she still was perplexed. It had been centuries since anyone had treated her with the respect her position demanded. She eyed Sigyn, seeing familiar traits in her lovely features.

“You are Iwaldis’ child, aren’t you?” Hela asked, eyeing Sigyn. “As bright as your mother, I see.” With a hand gesture, she allowed Sigyn, and the guards, to stand again.

Sigyn gasped with delight, taking a step closer to Hela. “You knew her?”

“Briefly. She taught me about Seidr, in secret.” Hela gave no more information about it, but Loki could tell there was much more to the story.

“I assume you found much more about me, about us, than whatever is left in Asgard.” Loki held Sigyn’s hands and squeezed.

“We must discuss this further at the palace.” She looked at Hela, and then at Loki, returning his gesture. “You are in for a very long history lesson.”

Books piled up on every table in the small council room. Old tomes with ancient smells and yellow pages, kept from falling apart with magic. Loki wondered just how long Sigyn had been researching in his absence, and how much of it she had shared with her father. Sigyn searched for a particular volume and handed it to King Frèyr, pointing out a page to start reading. Loki and Hela listened.

It’s an ancient conflict between Asgard and Jotunheim, traced back to the times of Bor. The Frost Giants were one of the few who opposed Asgard’s rule, and sacrificed many lives to keep their freedom. Before his death, Bor had left instructions to assemble an army so powerful that the Jotunns would have no other option but surrender. When his son Odin ascended to the throne, the army was ready. The most skilled warriors of the Nine Realms came together as part of the Valkyrie Army. The conflict became even more savage and sanguinary.

When the time came for Odin to wed, there was only one woman he wanted: Rindr, General of the Valkyries and his most trusted war advisor.

“In Asgard,” Frèyr paused his reading and turned the book for Loki and Hela to see. “You will find many volumes written about the prowess and victories of the Valkyrie Armada. But there’s too little about how they came to an end.”

Loki looked at the book. On the page next to the one Frèyr was reading, there was a vivid drawing of the Valkyrie Army. It was very similar to the one Hela exposed in the throne room, but at the same time, different. There was nothing glorified about the blood dripping from the swords, or the bodies being trampled by horses. It was brutal in its honesty.

Hela traced her fingers over the drawing of her mother, and read the caption at the bottom.

The Jotnar king, Ymir, outsmarted King Odin’s strategy and led Queen Rindr and her army to a trap. The Valkyries were all slaughtered, and the Queen captured. It is said that King Ymir offered mercy.

“Mercy!” Hela scoffed. “She would not come home defeated and without her army. Asgard would not tolerate the indignity of defeat.”

“What happened then?” Loki asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Depends on who you ask.” Hela pursed her lips. “According to Odin, she was sacrificed in the middle of the plaza, her head on a spike for everyone to see.” She gulped and took a breath. “In truth, she commited suicide. Valkyries follow the King’s orders to either victory or death. There was no victory, so they died.”

“I have read of such a ritual, for fallen warriors to kill themselves honorably and still go to Valhalla,” Sigyn offered. Hela nodded.

“I was but a little girl, growing up listening to lies. Being fed nothing but rage and thirst for vengeance.” Hela flipped through the book, turning its pages to find images of Odin’s battle and the death of King Ymir. “Odin used to say that I would take my mother’s place by his side, and lay waste to those who oppose us.” Flicking through more pages, she stopped on a small drawing of Laufey ascending to the throne of Jotunheim. “For a while, I was exactly that. A weapon for him to use. I would come to regret it later.”

Loki’s mind wandered back to all the vandalized books, all the information that had been lost.

“There is no way Odin could have gotten away with it. Someone must have known.”

“They were permanently silenced, I assure you,” Hela said, venom in her words.

Loki looked to Freyr. “And the other realms?”

“The war against Jotunheim was not our war. We were purposely left out, told to mind our own business.” Frèyr shrugged. “But the Alfar value one thing above all else, and that’s knowledge. They knew something was amiss. It took great effort to track down the truth, but they found it.”

Hela made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a growl. “And they had to keep Odin from knowing, or it would have ended up swept under the rug, with everything else, and everyone else.”

Loki knew this was true. If Odin had known Alfheim had that knowledge, he would have burned it to the ground. Hela stared at the drawing of Laufey, her breathing becoming more audible and rapid by the second.

Frèyr softened his voice when he spoke to Hela again. “There was no way we could have known about your marriage to Laufey, though, or your pregnancy.”

“The ceremony was done in secret, in Jotunheim,” Hela said with a small shake of her head. “Jotnar tradition is different. Their temple is their book, and holds their history. I had already been -” She paused to clear her throat. “Even after my banishment, I knew Odin was spying on me. It was only a matter of time before he would find out I was with child.”

Loki wished he could melt into the chair, but Sigyn held his hand. He was hanging desperately onto every word from Hela’s mouth and he had to remind himself to breathe. A lifetime of lies, finally leading to the truth, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

“Do you…” Loki cleared his throat and forced himself to get the words out. “Do you know what happened the night I was taken to Asgard?”

Hela’s face paled, and she stared at her hands in her lap. A few moments passed before she could gather herself together. When she looked back up at Loki her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“That was the night you were born,” Hela managed to say. She took a deep breath and continued, her long fingers turning the pages of the book in front of her until she saw Laufey’s portrait again. “Odin had only just found out about you. You could say he was less than pleased. Less than two days later he came to Jotunheim with an army to drag me back to Asgard.” Finally she met Loki’s eyes. “I was in labor.

“Laufey ordered me to hide, so I did, for you. Once you were born Odin was close to discovering where I was, so I used what strength I had to teleport you to the temple. That’s all I know.” Shocked silence followed her last statement. It didn’t take much stretch of the imagination for Loki to figure out what happened after that.

The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?

“One fact still remains, my queen.” Frèyr said very solemnly. “You are the rightful heir to the throne. Alfheim will pledge allegiance to you, and help you reclaim what is rightfully yours.”

“Why?” Hela said, her eyes narrow slits as she closed the book in her hand.

Frèyr said nothing, but looked at Loki and Sigyn holding hands, making it clear that Loki was the one they were helping. Hela nodded, her chest tightening at the sight of her son in such distress.

Frèyr gave a lighthearted smile, trying to lighten up the mood. He ordered his maids to arrange a room for Hela, and have dinner served, ignoring protests from both her and Loki. There was nothing either of them could do, he insisted. They needed to rest, gather their strength and plan for the next step. They all knew Asgard wasn’t going to bend so easily.

After supper, Loki walked Hela to his old room to find none other than Gwyn pulling fresh sheets onto the bed. The old maid smothered Loki with her powerful hugs and introduced herself to Hela. After some good-natured chastising, Loki let Gwyn take over and made his way to Sigyn’s chambers. He had a lot of explaining to do.

Sigyn poured a glass of wine for herself and offered some to Loki, but he politely refused. The two of them had been catching up for over an hour, but they both knew they were getting to the most difficult part of their conversation. The part Loki was purposefully avoiding. So he directed the discussion to the exact point when all of Odin’s lies crumbled.

“…Odin is about to die, and he reveals you as heir to the throne of Asgard, rather than the golden boy.” Sigyn took a long sip of her wine and smiled over her glass at Loki. “How did Thor take it?”

“He didn’t have time to take it. He was flung from the Bifrost before we made it back.”

Sigyn coughed, spilling red liquid down the front of her dress. “How??”

“It’s a…” Loki didn’t want to get into details, but Sigyn’s stare made him continue. “I called for the Bifrost, we all got sucked into it, and Thor attacked her, so she retaliated. I’m not sure if he’s… well, let’s just say the odds are against him now.”

Placing her empty wine glass on her nightstand, Sigyn shook her head, reaching for Loki’s hand. “That had to have been hard for you, even after all you’d been through with him. I’m sure he’s out there somewhere, though, he’s a tough guy.”

“I suppose.”

Sigyn gently ran her thumb over Loki’s palm in small circles. “You have yet to tell me what happened to you after you - after your fight with Thor, when you learned about Laufey. Before Thor brought you back to Asgard.”

A flash of cold shot down Loki’s spine, and he gulped hard against the lump in his throat. “I wish I could tell you, but-”

“It’s okay.” Sigyn gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. “I am an empath, Loki. It’s been clear to me for a long time, and with the growth of my powers I learned to control it. Master Indilwen said I would make a great healer, but alas, I’m a princess.” She scooted closer to him on the bed. “You don’t have to tell me. You can show me.”

Loki nearly sighed with relief. “What do I have to do?”

“Let me in.”

Loki turned to face Sigyn, legs crossed on her bed, and took both of her hands. He drew a deep breath and allowed his defenses to drop, letting Sigyn’s magic flow inside of him. Quickly he realized doing that meant he was also reliving everything he was showing her. His first instinct was to resist the memory, but Sigyn’s warm energy slowly began to soothe him.

Flashes of time appeared before his mind’s eye, and Loki felt Sigyn’s hands tremble more with each one. The cold metal floor of a prison cell, the fierce dry heat of the Sanctuary II’s engine reactor core shoving razor sharp tendrils of scorching pain down his throat and into his lungs. Days spent dangling by his throat so only the tips of his toes touched the red hot floor. Long, clammy fingers shoving needlelike spikes under his skin, the same creature laughing at his defiance and speaking in honeyed verses praising the Mad Titan. One voice ringing out over the rest, the voice of the one who wished to control him.

How do you break a frost giant?

Loki could feel his skin turning cold. He wanted to pull away from Sigyn before he hurt her, but the harder he fought the more she held him.

Endless days of training, fighting against the Titan’s children with no rest until he won. Words fed to him to condition his broken mind to Thanos’ cause. Glorious purpose… glad tidings… freedom is life’s great lie… you were made to be ruled…

No! Stop! That’s not me!

Sensing Loki’s distress Sigyn released his hands, wincing a bit from the frost that had formed between them. Loki’s arms faded back to his usual pale color, but his face was bright red, tears streaking down his face as he stared off at the wall behind Sigyn’s head.

“Loki…”

Loki shook his head, trying to compose himself. It had been too long since the last time he let himself show any emotions, and wanted to hide them back as soon as possible. Sigyn didn’t push, and gave him space, wiping her own tears in the meantime. It took them several minutes to calm down.

“I don’t know how or why I survived. But I did.” Loki spoke again, his voice still broken.

“The norns still have plans for you, it seems.”

“Can they be good plans? Or are they just toying with me to torture me ever further?”

Sigyn took his hand, and Loki saw the worn gold ring still on her finger. “I guess we’ll find out,” she assured him. “If your fears turn out to be true, we’ll fight back.”

“We?”

Loki was, to say the least, surprised to hear Sigyn say that. He was convinced that given the new information about his true parentage and what he really was, she would be disgusted, she would reject him, and obviously call off their engagement. Her assurance that her feelings had not waned was more than he could have ever expected from her.

“Don’t look at me like that! We are still going to be married!” She stated matter-of-factly, as if there had never been any question of it. “Just… after all this is over. Then you - we - can finally live in peace.”

Loki burst out laughing. “As you wish, my queen.”

<< Chapter 25 – Chapter 27 >>

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