#RIP Clint the frog

[emailburner]

something great about being given a phone during my primary school years is that I understood enough how it works and was excited about it.

I have so many videos that are a glimpse into younger me’s life (a lot of the stuff I’d already forgotten)

I can say with complete confidence that I was just as weird at twelve years old as I am now!

[aclowntiny]

A Date Like No Other- Basketball Player!Mingyu x Female!Reader (College AU)

Inspired by the famous tumblr post 😄 also I’m quite tempted to do a part 2 for this one if anyone is into that hehe

Word Count: 3600 | College AU, Basketball Player!Mingyu, Humor, Fluff | Warnings: drinking mentioned, one suggestive comment, one minor swear

He was the guy on campus everyone would have sold organs to go on a date with. The sports guy. The really tall guy. Handsome, plays on the school team, movie love interest guy.

You were the weird girl hardly anyone talked to, and you just liked him because he drew on your notes with you.

History was boring you- you’d already answered the questions and they read the pages out loud at a snail’s pace, sending your eyes diving into the pages lest you want to rip your hair out and coat your long thin institutional table in it. Saving that, you reached into your backpack and pulled out a green ultra fine marker, popping the cap. You reached over and doodled a frog sitting in his funny little amphibian hunch on one of the multitudinous papers strewn about the table before the guy sitting next to you glanced over, a huge smile spreading across his face before he suppressed laughter.

"I've been frogged!" That, of course, had him almost snorting in aborted amusement.

Wait...did that mean? "Oh, sorry, those were your notes, huh?" You asked in response, hand hitting your head lightly. "I got them mixed up, sorry for defacing your property. I can get you a new sheet if you were going to turn that in-"

"Nah," your neighbor, whose name was Mingyu if you remembered from roll call, held up a hand of both restraint and reassurance, "it's fine! I'm going to keep it. I love him. I think he needs a hat, though."

"Oh, I got it." This time, it was a brown marker you grabbed, quickly outlining and filling in a tiny cowboy hat for your creation. "There we go, how's that?"

This time, a full snort. "He looks handsome to me. What's his name?" Mingyu whispered as your professor drew a tad bit closer.

"Uh, Clint Eastwood?" You shrugged, having not exactly thought that far- in fact, not at all, the whole shindig starting at full zero thoughts, head empty.

"Well, I'll take him with me to every class I have," Mingyu replied, glancing fondly at the doodled frog before taking his pencil and drawing a fly between two pieces of bread, "and feed him, too."

At that, you exhaled a quietened laugh, smiling back as wide as he'd done.

"What? Wouldn't that be what a frog eats?"

You had to admit that it would be.

From that day on, you two added one or two things onto Clint Eastwood's page every class session. He had a top hat at the ready for dressing up, a little garden of flowers, a very badly drawn horse to ride, a soccer ball to play with, and a plate of the takeout Mingyu had just really wanted that day. You didn't even know what his major was. Maybe it was just sports. Could one go to school for simply basketball? Who knew? You guys didn't really talk, just drew and whispered and laughed about your froggy little world. Either way, to your simultaneous amusement and annoyance you found yourself really able to see the hype behind the legendary Kim Mingyu. For all the popularity, he was a good guy. And you know what, he was cute. But, like, heart cute. The face cute was just a bonus.

~

"Hey (y/n), do you ever go to any games? I've never seen you at one," Mingyu mused as you strode out of class, backpacks loose over your shoulders.

"Well," you paused, letting your expression be cut by a half-joking, half-serious wince, "no offense, but I'm not a huge sports person? So I haven't gone because I don't have anyone to go with and it hasn't seemed worth the money. Not because of the game, just because of how much they charge for the ticke-”

"Hey, don’t worry, I get it," he laughed, "well, my little sister could use someone to go with, and the ticket would be on me. I save on buying them for myself because, well, you know."

"You're too busy slamming dunks or whatever it is basketball players do," you supplied.

"Depends on your position," Mingyu just chucklef in response, pushing the big silvery-painted fire exit-esque handle of the history building's double doors open.

"Basketball has positions?" You burst out incredulously, squinting both in confusion and at the onslaught of sunlight assaulting your eyes as you emerged past the threshold.

Another laugh. "Come and find out."

~

The game was made more fun by knowing a player- it gave you something to care about as your eyes followed Mingyu's run along the smooth floors, the way he leapt to toss the ball to some guy just as tall or even taller than him. He really played with passion, passion and a clear sense of fun if his remarks on the court were any indication. His sister was pretty cool, too. She looked like a fashion model straight out of Seoul, but she was fun and sassy, not afraid to tease her big brother about the shot he missed when he ran up and greeted you at the sidelines or shoot a questioning look between you two as you told him to do it for Clint Eastwood, whom Mingyu replied was his good luck charm before shuffling back off on sneakers that squeaked against the floor.

Even though you didn't actually hang out with him the whole time, just at celebratory victory ice cream after, you came to history lecture the next session feeling closer to Mingyu, and he must have felt the same as he started talking to you instantly. You rarely initiated conversation, but always welcomed it.

He thanked you for coming to the game as if he hadn’t paid for it, then asked what your major was. You told him and bounced the question back. Turns out it was business, not sports. That history lecture was just GE you both had to get out of the way. The most interesting history lessons to you weren't generic national history or war maps, but all the odd sideline stuff like how some people believed huffing toilets might have helped them during the Black Plague.

"They what?" Mingyu asked, eyes widening and mouth agape as class commenced.

Maybe that was why people didn't really talk to you.

Such reflection was inaccurate, however, as you mindlessly doodled a ridiculous-looking bug-eyed dog on the now-shared note paper and Mingyu chuckled and gave it a collar, smiling when your glance upward met his eyes.

The moment you rose from your seat after lecture, notebook shoved back into your backpack and pencil case into one of the side water bottle holsters or whatever they were called, Mingyu started talking to you again, this time about how glad he was that he didn't join a fraternity like his teammate Johnny.

"Yeah, because see, this one guy just got so drunk he didn’t know where his car was and his girlfriend lost her nose ring, then another guy was sick and they threw him outside and he woke up in the cold locked out of the house, and the houses stink, too, like they smell so bad…”

"Yeah," you muttered, taking each of your bag straps in your hands this walk, palms sliding over the rough fabric, "dude, you couldn't pay me to live in one of those."

“…they’re practically taking after those Black Plague people!” He joked, bringing a smile to both your faces as he mimed taking a sniff, waving his hands in front of his nose and bursting into laughter.

“Except they should know better,” you added, shaking your head in amusement, “they need to get smart like you and I.”

He didn’t laugh, just nodded in approval. "Right? And everyone there has already hooked up with each other. I'm so tired of all that, too. That's not the kind of date I've been looking for, you know?”

In a sense, you did not know, being that none of your classmates had even hardly made conversation let alone a risqué pass, but you got it. Being as popular as Mingyu was, you’d seen how fellow students threw themselves at him sometimes. Had to get uncomfortable, especially if his facial expression at a few of them said anything. They weren’t usually very original, either, poor guy. He was just a clear end goal, and someone who loved his sister and his little drawings and celebrated with ice cream as often as cocktails and laughed at toilets didn’t deserve that. Mingyu wasn’t an ideal, he was a real person. Someone who just needed to have some damn fun for once.

“Sure. You need some- no, you deserve some- creativity. If it was up to me, I’d take you on a date like no other,” you joked, chuckling as your gaze rose back up to his eyes.

“You would?” At the sight of Mingyu’s eyes widening, you wondered if your phrasing had inadvertently crossed a line. Sure, you were totally willing, but- “Alright, just name a time.”

“Wait, really?” This time it was your turn to gape, one hand dropping off your backpack strap to fall to your side. Your heart picked up its pace. Never in a googolplex of years would you have thought Mr. It Boy K. Basketball would want a date with you. Being his friend was surprising enough.

“Yeah, of course. I think it’d be fun,” Mingyu beamed at you, “and I trust you. My sister likes you, too. If…if you really meant it, that is.” He added that last bit as his own gaze dropped and one hand reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Giggling shyly at his sudden sheepishness as well as the situation’s sheer absurdity, you tilted your head his way, smile melting back out of the shock. “Well, thanks, that actually…really means a lot. Get ready for an epic time, then!”

He cocked a brow, turning down between a row of potted trees toward the food court. “Have something in mind already?”

Actually, you did have something you always wanted to do if you could get someone else- it would look too weird to be the only one. Why not do it with Mingyu?

“Be afraid,” you nodded, smirking in satisfaction.

“Well then, how should I dress?”

“Just casual is fine,” you shrugged and teased, “we can’t all afford black tie, Mr. Business Major.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, still giving that wide smile you’d come to anticipate seeing, “Friday night?”

“Friday night,” you repeated.

~

“Get ready for Friday Night Showdown!”

“Um, (y/n), this is the grocery store.”

Your lips turned upward proudly as you rotated from a fist pump into a Vanna White pose before the mart. “I know.”

“Are we…” Mingyu paused, clearly searching for words. “Fighting in here or something?”

“We are not,” you replied cryptically, looking all the more satisfied as you passed between the automatic doors, Mingyu at your side.

“Am I doing your shopping?” He looked at you with still-raised eyebrows, though amusement colored his expression.

“That would be messed up!” You denied, shaking your head. “Though admittedly funny.”

“Don’t get any ideas for date two!”

Your heart flipped at Mingyu’s easy smile, how casually he said that…the way he flushed and looked away the moment the words left his mouth. He was already thinking of your next date? Hope he likes seafood, you internally joked.

“Yeah, no shopping tonight unless you wanted some snacks. Because tonight,” you skipped over all the central aisles of kitchen supplies, soap, and dry goods, making a beeline for the meat section… well, more specifically the fish counter, “is all about the face-off.”

In a split second you caught Mingyu’s eyes dart down once more past rows of cans, bottles, jars of just about every color you could ask for, dancing over their numerical markers as if to say farewell to actual shopping. Then, his gaze was back on you, your gestures, over your shoulder to the tank at the end of the fish counter. The tank full of lobsters with big claws and small patience. His eyes met yours again. He knew. You could see it.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. Pick your champion.”

He twisted his cap around backwards, revealing his face, those big, innocent brown eyes, once more. “Uh, quick question: how do you suggest I keep mine straight from the others?”

He was asking in earnest. That was another thing you liked about Mingyu: not only did he possess childlike wonder beyond what somebody in his age and station in life probably should, he was also a bad liar in the purest, kindest of senses. He really, truly, had never had a grocery store lobster beatdown date, and he couldn’t fake interest if he tried. So now he wanted tips, advice you could give him as if you had already had loads of grocery store lobster beatdown dates. All you could do was smile back at the tall basketball player and every small kindness he’d shown you thus far. The way he’d simply seen you.

“Good question. Don’t they have different colored wristbands?”

He arched a brow, clearly fighting a snicker. “Different what?”

Pantomiming a band with one hand grabbing the other, you stuttered. “You know, the… the claw restraints! The wristbands!”

“I don’t think they have wrists, (y/n),” Mingyu teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.

Well, of course you realize this means war. “Alright, you are on,” was all you said, eyes narrowing.

He perked up at that. “What’s the bet?”

“Winner gets to pick the next activity,” you reply, sauntering a few steps closer to the lobster tank and pointing to one with a purple band over its claws that was clearly ready to throw- well, for lack of better terminology- hands, “and I choose this one.”

“Well, in that case,” Mingyu returned to your side, arm pressed against yours as he peered into the tank, “the logical choice would be to pick the one in red in front of yours. May the best crustacean win.”

And at that, his competitive stare melted back into that boyish look as he turned to you. “…did that sound cool?”

It almost came out as a snort, you burst out laughing so violently. “That was legendary,” was all you could wheeze out.

~

“Ha ha! I can’t believe it!” Mingyu grinned and bobbed up from his bent tank stare like an excited puppy, pumping the fist that wasn’t holding the mart beer can he’d bought as his lobster shoved yours away in victory.

The pair of crustaceans had been locked in claw-to-claw combat, tussling very slowly over nothing in particular but their proximal frustrations, and Mingyu’s had apparently vented harder, shoving yours back after some aggressive minutes. Mingyu had gotten into the fight, nudging you when something extra exciting happened and even providing commentary on sideline fights between sips.

First drawing a fly sandwich, then that. Truly, who'd've thunk?

“Neither can I," you mock-pouted, crossing your arms, "purple always wins."

"Says who?" Asked Mingyu, who leaned down closer to you, face mere inches from yours.

"Says me," you shrugged, feeling warmth spread across your face.

"Well, you know what?"

You could feel warmth of his breath ghosting faintly over your cheeks, your lips. "Wh- what?"

"As much as I enjoy a good bar," he leaned back a bit, clapping, "I did need something else. Something new. This was fun! Wanna go play basketball in the park? I bet we'll have the court to ourselves!"

There it was again. The reason everyone liked him. Movie love interest vibes, even beneath the oddly-tinted fluorescent lights of commerce. A smile like a boy on the body of a man. Probably not something they usually imagined to see over a lobster tank. Over hoops in the park, though? That tracked, even if it was a bit of a one-eighty from his breath fanning your face.

Beside any of that, he had won the right to choose.

"Sure," you smile, "let's keep your winning streak up."

And with a hand clasped around yours, that athletic strength was tugging you out the grocery store door to a rush of evening wind and the sound of mutual laughter.

~

Basketball really was that man’s passion. Just about the only thing about it you knew about the sport was what a slam dunk was, but what different shots scored different points? You wanted to throw a three-pointer, but what was a three-pointer?

You learned what it was, what an assist was, that elbowing was illegal or something like that because every game had a reason to send the players to sports jail like grown-up cops and robbers.

You got the ball in the basket twice with no help, and that was achievement enough. Mingyu had ran across the court to high-five you both times as if you’d just won him a game. When you messed up the angle of another throw, he got behind you and, trying your best to focus with his chest flush against your back, you tried again and sent the ball sailing without the betrayal of the previous throw’s dramatic arc.

“So can we give Clint Eastwood a basketball now too?” Mingyu asked out of the blue, dropping to the concrete at your side, legs crossing and knees brushing.

“What,” you chuckled, “do you have him with you or something?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled a small white square out and unfolded it to reveal the piece of lined notebook paper with margins full of marker and pencil scratch, most notably your hatted frog friend. He kept those notes in his pocket?

With the one not holding Clint, he ran a hand through his short black hair. “I do like to have him with me,” he answered with a tentative smile.

You twisted slightly, feeling your spine pop from its prior exertion, and remembered his words from the basketball game as he’d visited your seat, making you laugh with a failed attempt at spinning the ball on his finger. “As a good luck charm?”

He shook his head. “I think we’ve added something almost every time we’ve been together. He’s like a log of all the memories we share.” With that, he scooched closer to your side, his jacket falling over the folds of your own clothes slightly. “And I like our memories, Frog Girl.”

What could you say to that? “Frog Girl?” You just giggled, eyes on his.

“That’s right,” Mingyu nodded, “I can’t believe I would never have talked to you if you hadn’t drawn a frog.”

“Ah, college,” you sighed, tilting your head, “the golden years, and yet it’s so easy to ignore everyone else.”

“Well, no longer,” Mingyu shot back, gaze honing in on…well, you weren’t sure, but you liked it, “I figured out what I want to do with my victory wish.”

You smiled at the phrase ‘victory wish’, a term that was just so him. “I thought that was this.” For emphasis, you waved a hand along the court, feeling the night breeze that much more on the skin of your palm.

“Nope,” he shook his head, smirking as his eyes fell back on yours, “I didn’t say I was using it then, I just asked if you wanted to come out here and you said yes."

Well, coat you in flour and call you a biscuit. "You evil genius, you." At that, you gave a grin and a shake of your own head, unable to resist feeling a bit impressed. Man plays games, he picks up some strategy. You'd have to remember that.

"I prefer to think of myself as a nice genius," Mingyu said, and then, switching tones completely, doing another one-eighty to one sweet enough to make your heart swell, he continued, "and about my wish: can I kiss you? I can't think of a better way to end Friday Night Showdown."

Deathly afraid of saying something stupid, you answered by shifting from your crossed legs, folding them to the side as you sat up, knee resting slightly on the edge of his leg as you pressed your lips to his. The slick of his sports jacket between your fingers felt cool as you gripped it to hold both yourself and Mingyu in place as he surged forward into you. For his speed, his eagerness, his kiss was surprisingly soft, not digging too deep but just firmly holding you, treasuring you as if the feeling of your lips was about to fade. Oh, buddy, I'm not going anywhere, you murmured in your head against the feeling of his ever-so-slightly chapped lips.

And as he pulled away, separation painfully slow, deliberate, Mingyu looked you dead in the eyes, blinked at the sudden return of hazy park streetlight, and said “Wow.”

You nodded. “Wow.” Can’t believe how well those lobsters worked, you wanted to say. "You're full of surprises, Mr. Basketball."

“Mr. Basketball,” he mused, gaze briefly drifting from yours, then back. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be that into me, being so funny and smart and artistic and stuff, but I just couldn’t help myself. And boy am I glad for that,” he grinned.

For that, all you could do was kiss him again.

No more hoops were shot that night, only words tossed out with new glee as you, now wrapped in Mingyu’s jacket, pointed out lesser-known constellations, like the Dutch giraffe one or the Poop Deck. After all, you had a reputation to keep up on that date, and everyone had already seen the Big Dipper.

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43586361

“Frogs are bitches and we do not negotiate with terrorists” by Spider_punk3522344 Klaus is ripped from his siblings hands (and the space time continuum) and lands in Russia near a HYDRA base. Peter is kidnapped by HYDRA and taken to one of their Russian bases. This particular facility practices human experimentation, turning people into mutated abominations. Striping away their humanity. Words: 1467, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Umbrella Academy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Klaus Hargreeves, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, May Parker (Spider-Man), Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Number Six | Ben Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Klaus Hargreeves & Tony Stark, Klaus Hargreeves & Peter Parker, Klaus Hargreeves & Number Six | Ben Hargreeves, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Additional Tags: Hydra (Marvel), Age Regression/De-Aging, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker

[garbagefarm]

Mutucule Farm (#10)

2023-02-20, session #10 of Mutucule Farm!

Cast:

Me (@mothmute — Yoshi)

Belle (@snacco — Dry Bones)

Cam (@amanitaspore​ — Shyguy)

Erin (@salamand3rin​ — Shyguy or Daisy, depending on whether everybody else hates Daisy)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Upgrading Pompkin to be bigger and flatter

mmm, cherry bombs, delicious

content warning: backpacks

look, when a mommy baba yaga hut and a daddy baba yaga hut love each other very much,...

“snompkin” (I do not remember the context)

Marnie: great person, questionable business owner

horse envy!!

Belle finds a weird doll

Gunther can tell you more! ... but do you really want him to?

Belle gets prairie king’d by Abigail

(The Prairie King eats your time)

Delivering Willy a Squid at midnight. squidnight, if you will

Cam holds a burger over his head, and it looks like a hat

I acquire birds!

My naming theme for the birds are birds:

Catbird, Bluejay, Heron, and Grackle

Penny having a little winter picnic with the kids, wants me to tell them about country living!

one of the options says we have the best lumber south of Grampleton. hey, where the fuck is Grampleton?

Vincent wants to know more about goblins

I find a garbage hat!! Wrong farm!!

Belle considers more farm animals, I tell her to goat for it

“I’ll send little Baphomet to her new home right away” thanks Marnie

(The other one is “Black? Phillip”)

RIP Cam, dead in the mines

Cheesecourse rears its ugly head again!

Datin’ Penny

I get a heart event with Penny where she poisons me

... and I click exactly when the dialog options come up, accidentally choosing to lie and say it’s delicious, fantastic

I am one step closer to the Slutch

Sebastian says the frogs aren’t very happy in this weather (it’s winter), saying “poor little guys”— I admire his commitment to frogs

I deliver Emily a rock from Clint and get a smooch

Access to the sewers and Krobus

would talking about void eggs be ... vegg-blogging?

Shane has an encounter with a bear! (pictured below)

I’m just gonna hold onto these eggs

“until they hatch?”

... yes.

“are you going to sit on them?”

The Fish Archives start paying off immediately

Deluxe pack!!

hey guys, who do you main in Junimo Cart?

(Listed up in the “cast”)

Ice fest teleports us from the town entrance to the farm entrance

... why was there a woodpecker on that igloo?

Demetrius forgets his jacket (again)

Cool Pigloo

revvin’ up that hog!

Fish contest!

Belle & Erin take one hole, Cam & I take the other (ours is cursed and I leave)

It’s a tie between me and Belle!

lape nipe snea snap

I wear the victory hat immediately, Belle sticks with the witch hat

“witch hat stays on during sex”

My miserable field of winter forageables is up!

stay away from my crops

Remote milking technology is here, milk wi-fi

Quest to go into the mines and rustle up some grubs!

I hit the Duggy reward in the process

Belle & Sebastian is canon!

Camily is canon!

(I handed Cam a bouquet, we might legally be dating now, too)

The Witch and the Snowman are dating, too (pictured below)

Caroline just sticks a stamp on a potato and mails it to me

I find another garbage hat!! Wrong farm!!

Erin moves the bears around, musical bears

ordering pizza from Jumino’s, instead they remove a glittering boulder

TO-DO:

Fruit trees for the greenhouse? Apples, for bundle-related reasons?

Taller barns? Wider barns? Sheep? Hog??

Taller coop, more birds?

idk, we always need tool upgrades

More! Romance!

Photos:

Shane and the Bear at the Stardrop Saloon

snowman and witch are dating

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: Sing My Song

Part Two

Summary- 7.5k Steve Rogers x You. Having you back makes the Alpha very happy, and has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Which you don’t have any issues with that. Shuri continues her work with you, and making progress everyday, enough so Steve hopes to take you on a run through Wakanda. Bucky and his team are drawing in on Brock, but will they be able to take out the ex Alpha and his bitch for good? Warnings- Smut and Violence. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- Im breaking this into 2 parts. Its long and I feel like its just a lot to handle all to once. So next chapter will be posted soon. As always, Thank you for sticking with me and The Pack, I hope you all enjoy. As always feedback and your thoughts are encouraged, I’m always open to hearing what you all think and would like to see for them in the future. Happy Reading 🐺❤️

Part One / Chapter 8 / Masterlist

Brock did nothing to fight back or defend himself. His eyes glittered malicious at Bucky, baring his teeth at Bucky. 

“Cassandra really had NO idea what you were. You were just such a good fuck and easy listener Barnes. You should have heard her screams when we showed her what you were, what we were.” Brock taunted, making Bucky recoil slightly hearing him.

Brock's taunts gave Alanna enough time to shift out of Bucky’s sight, for her to slink around the room and low to the ground and start to approach the White Wolf from behind. In Bucky’s mind the White Wolf paced, wanting to rip out Brock’s throat, lap at the hot spurts of blood that would spray. But then he noticed the silence, his ears flicking around but he heard nothing. 

<Where's the bitch?> the White Wolf snarled out.

 Bucky started to turn enough to see a rush of tawny fur leaping at him, and he spun to kick out, catching the Wolf in the ribs and sending her flying back. But it was enough for Brock to knock the blade from Bucky’s hand, and push him back to get out of the corner. He was hitting Bucky in enough different places that it was leaving Bucky too disoriented and a collar got shoved around his neck from behind. Bucky heaved his shoulders to dislodge whoever had come up from behind, and he sent Wanda sprawling against the floor. 

Brock was quick to back off once that collar went on him, barking out at Wanda who was just getting up to go for Bucky once more. “GIve it a rest, witch. We got him now.” Wanda subdued herself once more, that vacant look melding into something new, something controlled. 

“Wanda, you can fight this.” Bucky's hands went up to the collar tight around his neck, growling in anger and frustration, but doing his best to keep it together. Brock gave an amused laugh as Wanda continued to ignore Bucky. 

Alanna whined as she moved to a stand and shook herself out, not too injured from being kicked and started to shift back and get dressed once more. From the stairs, Pietro sent Clint tumbling down to land in a pile at the landing, unconscious now from whatever the twins had done to him upstairs. Bucky's fingers curled around the collar, trying to figure out how to get this particular one off. It wasn't metal like the one Pierce had used on him, no secret button to press. This was supple leather, molding around his neck like it was a part of him, thin, almost unnoticeable. He tried wrenching the leather against his neck to make it snap , but the leather never gave, and neither did the clasp holding it in place. 

“Don't even bother Barnes. That isn't like Pierce's contraptions. These are the real deal, you are ours now Bucky. You and your friends too. Teper' tvoya moya sobaka.” Your our dog now

“What the-” the man clammed up, Bucky and the White Wolf being pulled out of control of his body, and his eyes snapped from their usual friendly blues into cold steel. 

“Ahh, that's better.” Rumlow circled Bucky, leaning in close. “You will no longer answer to Steve Rogers, although I’m not sure why you ever did. You had the power to take the Pack from him. You now listen to me, Soldat.” Bucky stiffened more, and he too fell into the spell that the rest had. 

After Natasha left with Stark's Jet, Steve was able to borrow a jeep and took you out for the rest of the morning into one of the nearby markets. Once he parked the jeep, the two of you started down an open market lane. You and Steve were sure to pause and admire the carts of bright beautiful items Wakandians made for sale. Steve watched how you would pick up little trinkets made of the Beli wood and would sit the little trinkets to balance on your palm. Steve noticed you favored the animal shapes, little tree frog mid croak, then an elephant with its trunk curled over its head, one of a sitting  hyena pair, and a parrot that had spread wings like in flight. But the one you kept picking up was a little panther one that matched the cliff face carving that could be seen from the balcony of the room you shared. Curling your finger along its back before you set it down, you hummed happily as you wandered to the next merchants stall. Steve though stalled, watching you pick up a couple of scarfs, their colors vivid as you twisted to hold them up to the sunlight, the color seeming to meld on your face, lighting your eyes a whole new color. 

When you had stepped away, Steve picked up the small carved Panther, and subtly paid for it. Once it was handed back to him, he slipped it in his slacks out of sight when you came back to him, holding up a few scarfs. “I think I'm going to get these for Wanda, Sara and Natasha.” 

“They would like them, but what about one for you?” He asked, his hand moving to rest in the small of your back while you both went back into the stall to look.

You glanced at the colors, and then there was one that reminded you of your Alphas eyes that happened to catch your sight. It was a streak of blue and yellow and you picked it up to add to the arrangement you made. Handing it to the merchants owner, you gave a shy thank you. Steve wrapped an arm around you as the two of you continued down, and Steve happened to pause at another booth, overlooking some blades that had a unique sheen to them. As soon as Steve touched one, he was intrigued. The weight felt like it was made just for him, and he let his thumb trail barely along the edge of them. He was surprised with the immediate red beads of blood following along the barely there cut. “What are these made of?” 

“Vibranium sir. Each blade will fit to its owner's needs. The weight will change, absorb energy, be lethal to any target. These blades will never grow dull with use. I wouldn't normally sell these to any visitors, but guests of the Kings, feel free to choose from what I have to offer.” His hand swept over the collection, and you were fascinated watching Steve go through them. He obviously had a few people in mind as he set more aside to purchase, right along with several lethal looking arrowheads. 

The rest of the morning the two of you shared bites of food from samples offered, you would laugh at the occasional face Steve would make when he didn't care for the taste of something. Dropping his head to nip at your lips and growl against them that he prefers the taste of you instead. You glanced up at him and leaned up to your tiptoes, biting gentle on his jawline, before flowing to his ear. 

“I plan on finding out soon if you taste as good as you look.” 

Cerulean eyes widened as you sauntered away to where music was playing, your hips swaying back and forth, and joining in with others enjoying the music. 

<She got you that time.> The Alpha had a smirk to his tone, huffing with amusement at Steve's still shocked look. 

She gets me all the time, this time isn't anything new. 

When he finally reached where you were wandering while listening to the music, and engaged in several conversations with the Wakanda merchants. Steves wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your neck first. You arched your neck just a bit for him,  and he let his mouth linger against your temple, whispering just to you. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked as you watched some people weaving baskets nearby. The Wolf in him sighed in content when you nodded, and slid a hand under his shirt, pressing your hand against his back for the contact. “Yes, Alpha.” 

“We should probably get back, you still have a session with Shuri.” He didn't want to, but a glance at the time on the phone showed it was near noon and he wanted to eat lunch in the room before you two headed down for what he was hoping would be the final session for you with the Panther. You gave a soft nod, and he weaved his hand with yours, leading you back to the car. 

Driving back, it was a quick trip up to the room. The kitchen had already brought up a spread of crackers, fruit, cheese and some meats. In the heat the two of you shed your clothes, opting for something lighter and more airy before moving the tray out to the balcony, still in the shade, but able to enjoy the expansive view before you two. Pouring glasses of water, that Steve was sure to hand one to you while you leaned against the railing, looking over the view. 

“One day I would love to come back, if T’Challa would have us. Really explore.” There was so much they haven't seen, not with how tired you have been after your sessions with Shuri. 

“I'm sure we can Little One.” Steve rumbled, his sensitive to the light eyes squinting against the bright light. You nuzzled under his chin, and pulled him back into the shade to relieve him. Steve broke into a grin as he sat down, and wrapped an arm around your hip, pulling you into his lap. 

“With proper sunglasses next time, I promise.” He nipped at your shoulder affectionately, and you nodded, reaching forward for a piece of fruit, popping it between your teeth and chewing with a snort. 

“And all sorts of sunscreen. You burned a bit from that walk in the market this morning. There might be some aloe vera in the bathroom I can put on that for you.” Your fingers slide very gently along the back of his neck, where it has turned slightly red. Steve lifted his hand to feel the back of his neck, and sure enough there was a touch of heat.  

“Be gone in a couple days.” He assured you as he nipped against your jawline, rubbing a hand along your hip to steady you as you leaned for another piece of fruit from the bowl. Reaching for a piece of pineapple, you straightened and pressed it against his lips, so he would take it. 

“You know what they say about the pineapple, don't you?” You teased as you nibbled on a piece of cold cheese, smirking slightly. 

Steve's eyes shifted to yours, and you could see how your teasing was making them shine a bit more, as he tried to keep his voice as innocent as possible. 

Which really wasnt alot. 

“Oh something about tasting better?” He growled as his lips pressed to yours, pulling slightly on your lips before pulling away. You grinned when he did and nodded. 

“Mmhm, not sure what exactly? Maybe I will just have to take my time exploring to find out.” 

“You do that Little One.” He growled, even the Wolf started snickering at how the two of you were teasing one another. 

You nibbled your way along his bottom lip, the short hairs of his beard tickling you. A press of your tongue on the seam of his mouth asked for entrance, and when Steve opened to you, you were able to lap at the roof of his mouth, his own movements mimicking yours in that moment. You started humming at the sweetness the taste of fresh fruit left, his own tongue pressed against yours more demanding, wanting more of you. 

Hands started to match one another, yours cupped his face, and his braced against your back to arch you in closer to him. Sliding down his neck and to his chest, you started to tug at his shirt to lift in, needing to feel the spanse of his chest under your palms. All that power is just sitting there in your control. It was a head rush for you to know that the Alpha would do anything to keep you happy, and happily the favor was returned. Even though giving the bite scared you, if Steve really asked for it, you would allow him to mark you wherever he wanted his mark. 

Your fingers are curling against hard pecs, and burying in the dusting of hair, Steve’s grasped the curve of your waist and lifted you enough to straddle his lap, wanting you as close to him as possible . There was a growl against your mouth and Steve pulled away to place deep sucking marks against your neck. Your hips started shifting like they had a life of their own, grinding yourself against him for that friction his hard erection gave while straining to bury into your heat.

Steve craved the skin to skin contact, and his hands released you enough to reach over his shoulders to grasp his shirt and roughly pull it off. Yours too was in the way, grasping at the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head to drop it on the floor nearby. He marveled for a moment at the sight of you, and dropped his head to kiss the swells of the tops of your breasts in that similar way he was kissing on your neck earlier, your fingers clutched at him and a sigh escaped you at the coil he was building in your core. Fuck if he didnt have a hold on you, letting your body just lean into his hands, one pressing against the small of your back to hold you still while he removed your bra. Letting it fall to the ground, he nuzzled and kissed your breasts, bringing a nipple to his mouth, the hot lashing of his tongue, and pleased rumbled vibrating from his mouth through you to make you clench at the sensation. Your head fell back and lips parted to inhale deeply, sinking into the sensations of his hot lips and wet tongue teasing you while the brush of his beard brought its own tingling sensation. 

“You feel so good Alpha.” he heard you pant, and Steve bit down slightly before sucking you back into his mouth, his fingertips rolling over your other nipple before tugging it a bit, rolling and taunting till he could get his heated mouth over to draw you in, tease you till you were wriggling in his lap. He moaned again at the sweet taste of you. 

It was during all this his Wolf chose this moment to start calling your song, deep howls almost distracting him, you felt that bit of untamed wilderness in him when his body clenched, muscles tightening and rippling. 

Another roll of your hip ground you into his now aching, throbbing erection, and you pulled your hands away to work his pants open, reaching to take his cock out of the confines, and stroke him, palm him, run your fingertip over the head leaking precum. Steve growled and pressed his face into the softness of your breasts, before going back to kissing them, going back up your chest to find your mouth, growling against your panting mouth. “Get those shorts off.” 

There was no more thinking, or sense of you having to be anywhere in a certain amount of time as you scrambled off and started to tug the fabrics of your shorts and panties down, watching while Steve arched his hips to get more of his own pants down to give you room. It wasn't long till he was pulling you back to him, this time your knees found purchase in his chair and you reached between the two of you to press him against your aching entrance. Crying out as you started to bring yourself down over him. You knew that satisfied cry had to echo from your balcony, but you were beyond caring. 

A hunger for your Alpha over took you, and he was just as impatient as you because he lifted his hips to finish bringing you two together. 

“Fuck Y/N” his head dropped to bury back into your breasts, muffling the sounds of his groans as you flexed and clasped around him, whimpering yourself at how thick he felt at this angle, like it would split you to have him like this. But you were slick with need, and while he was still processing the intense feeling washing over him, being seated in you, and the damn Wolf howling over and over, you made the first move. Grasping his shoulders for leverage and arching up just enough to drag him through you, enough to sink back on him in a slow testing manner. “You're so damn tight.” Steve groaned against your skin. 

Riding Steve, you slid one arm around his neck, cradling against him. Your body knew what it wanted, and you let yourself go while he growled against you. He was back to kissing and nipping his marks into your skin while rocking his cock into your thrusts, meeting you with his own need to be inside of you, to feel you clenching him. “Just like that Little One, you are such a good girl to me.”  Your slick started to soak into his pants, the fabric friction burning against your thighs and cunt, but you wanted it and pressed a bit harder each time for that friction. 

Steve's hand flexed against the small of your back, dragging up to fist in your hair, wrapping it around his hand till he was able to pull your head back, swarmed with the desire to sink teeth into your neck and take you officially as his mate. You gasped when you felt the tug of hand dragging your head back, and he took over your movements.  His hand curled against your hip pulled you harder on his cock, scenting your neck and lapping over the pulse. You knew what he wanted, you could feel it with every angled thrust aiming to take you apart around him. 

He wanted to claim you as his, and you didn't want him to, not until your Little Wolf had returned. 

You whined out softly. “Not yet Alpha.” 

And that was enough, both Steve and the Wolf changed focus, turning soft nips into kisses, releasing your hair to dig fingers against your waist, and burying himself deeper, hitting that spot every time, and grinding your clit against him each time he filled you. It was enough to make your lower belly clench and your cunt flex and flutter around him. 

“Not until you're ready.” Steve promised as he claimed your mouth again, hissing against it. “Cum for me Little One, let me see you come apart.” 

Driving himself once more, snapping his hips up to bring you closer, a finger slipped between your bodies and pressing, rolling hard over your bundle of nerves to finish you. “Give it to me, your Alpha wants it.” he growled against your lips, sliding his tongue to fill yours, stroking and lapping at you till you started to squeeze him. Crying his name against the kiss, and eyes fluttering up to lose yourself in feeling anything but bliss. Steve gathered you close as his final thrusts sent him over the edge. He finished with the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly and milking him. It was just that much more incentive to brim you full with his cum. His balls tightened before his release and a burn in his belly snapped to crash you onto him, pumping himself deeper so you couldn’t forget that flood of warmth enveloping you. Whenever his knot would loosen and he could pull from you, there he would be dripping down your thighs, making him bury his head in against your shoulder with a groan, just thinking about it. Fuck how he loved that. Himself all over you, inside you. Everyone would be able to tell you were his. 

You felt Steve drift off in his own pleasure, his face buried in your shoulder and your nose traced his neck. You inhaled against his neck as his chest rose and fell against yours and you could feel his heart thumping wildly. Your fingers massaged against his upper back, and you leaned into Steve's chest humming softly in pleasure. 

“Thank you Steve.” brushing fingers through his hair, and you could feel him stir underneath you, lifting his head to press his lips against your temple, and leaning his forehead against yours with eyes still closed. 

“I promised you when you first found me that I wouldn't make you do anything you weren't ready for.” 

His hands stroked your back, and each scar his fingers slid over were no longer bringing memories of a time you fought to forget, but now they were now moments of touches and whispers in moments like these. Where both of you were coming back from the rush of being together. You arched into his touch and his hand flattened against the small of your back, pressing you into him harder, closing any space that might have been left between you two.  

The Wolf in Steve stirred, pushing once more to a stand and shaking out his fur after a few moments. His head cocked and ears perked as he was listening to something. Steve fully ignored him for now, still enjoying the post love making he just had with you.  

<She’s closer then before.> The Wolf's ears perked, picking up traces of your Little Wolf. The Wolf rumbled in anticipation of her arrival, and it passed through Steve and into you, making you press in closer against him. 

Call for her. 

The Alpha paced back and forth, listening for the Little Wolf till his head fell back and called your song once more. Steve hummed it himself while pressing his lips against your shoulder and in the hollow of your neck, lacing it in your skin and while you were relaxing from still coming down from your orgasm. 

You felt her, it was so subtle, a brush in your mind that you thought it would be nothing more then a glimpse once more. This time though it felt familiar as your own inner thoughts were, like before you were left all alone in your mind. First it was her soft sigh of content, like coming home after being away so long. Then the Little Wolf came from the very depths of your mind, each padding footfall bringing her closer to the front of your consciousness. 

Little Wolf, please tell me your back. 

She leaped into your mind with a graceful prance as she tilted her head back in the manner the Alpha had when Steve told him to call for her. She answered him with one of her own. 

<As if you could honestly could get rid of me.> She brushed up against your mind, feelings of warmth and affection radiating, and you straightened up suddenly in Steve’s hold. 

“Steve, she's back! She’s back, It worked!” You cried out, grasping his face and overwhelmed with emotion, you poured all what you were feeling into a kiss. Momentarily surprised, Steve was quick to tilt into it, inhaling your joy, relief and passion. When you pulled away, he grasped your own face, covering it in his own brush of his lips, a wide grin on his face. 

“I knew you could bring her back Little One, it was a matter of time.” He praised and you lifted your hands to cover his own, weaving fingers through his. 

“Not without Shuri, T’Challa, Natasha… You. I felt your Wolf, You.” You didn't know how to explain it, that connection you felt with him was what kept your Little Wolf searching for her way back. Steve’s brows lifted, searching your expression a moment, and let the corner of his mouth lift in a quirk of a smile. 

“Don't sell yourself short Little One.” He nudged his nose against yours gently and wiggled his brows. “Think we should go tell Shuri that you won't be needing her work on you anymore?” 

You bit your lip excitedly and nodded, in which he grasped your waist and was careful to help you pull off him and to a stand, moaning as he looked you up and down. “You also need to get dressed again. As well as drink some water.” 

You already were downing the glass on the table, giving him a snort as you set it down. The Little Wolf huffing in laughter at the Alphas bossiness. 

“You to Alpha, I wasn't the only one huffing and puffing earlier.” You poured him another glass and handed it to him before passing him to go get dressed, looking over your shoulder. “Are you going to let me keep these clothes on?” 

Steve drained the glass himself and worked on zipping his pants back up, following you inside, while leaning against the frame of the opening to the balcony. 

“Depends, The Big Bad Wolf is still hungry.” he smirked as you pulled a shirt over your head, wide eyed as you head poked through. 

“Steve Rogers, you really are an animal!” You huffed out happily. When Steve approached you, your hand smoothed against his chest and his arm came around you protectively. 

“I've never denied it, have I?” Biting your shoulder softly in play before he let you go, you both finished getting dressed and left the room to head down to Shuris lab. When they arrived, the woman had everything set up and Steve gave your shoulder a light squeeze of encouragement. 

“So I'm really hoping today Y/N that your wolf comes back with a bang.” Shuri said almost distracted, tapping on the tablet she was using. 

<Ha! I did come in after a bang!> The Little Wolf grinned with a swipe of her tongue around her muzzle. 

I think you planned it like that. 

<Maybe I did. I see now that I’m back you're not so shy around the Alpha. Straddling him while on a balcony in the middle of the day. Almost like… your back in heat.> She snickered. 

Shut up. You know I'm not. It was a lot quieter when you were MIA.

The Little Wolf huffed in laughter, settling down to let you focus. 

I’m actually so fucking happy your back. You confessed to her and the Little Wolf whined in agreement, happiness radiating through you. 

“Actually, she did. She came back just a little while ago. You did it Shuri. She's back.” 

Shuri gave an excited squeal, Steve momentarily tightening his arm around you in surprise before letting you go to meet the Princess. 

“I knew she would be back.” Raising her hand and you gave her a high five once you realized what she wanted. “Just a bit of some rewiring and bam. Good as new. You don't mind if I take a sneaky peek?” 

You shook your head no, and willingly got on the table, letting her pull up an image of the inside of your mind. Steve watched from nearby, admiring the way little sparks were doubled what they were before, an obvious sign that your Little Wolf was active. 

He did have a couple questions though. “Was it just the work you've been doing to bring her back.” Hoping for an answer that would prove to you that you called her back. 

“Some of it, but I genuinely believe that with time Y/N would have fixed this on her own. Just taken some time. I can't say for sure, as overuse of the herb isn't common. Honestly, I think once she felt at ease again, happy and content, safe. It was enough to bring the wolf back.” Shuri recorded images and took your hand to help you back up. Making you ponder on what she had said, glancing at Steve. 

Steve looked rather proud of you, and piped up once more. “Last question. She's back right, for good? No in and out disappearing on Y/N anymore?” 

You gave a stretch as you stood, curious now to Shuri’s answer, who prominently shook her head. “She's back where she wants to be. All those little electric waves, ones of content. She won't be disappearing again unless someone shoots you with a dose like that again.” 

“Yeah, that will not be happening. Fuck that time was more then enough for me.” You tuck back into Steve’s side, shaking your head firmly and the Little Wolf mimicked the action. 

Steve growled as well. “I'm seconding that, I’m bringing Y/N home, might never leave Pack Lands again.” 

Shuri laughed, folding her arms. “Right, just like T’Challa thinks I’m never leaving.” 

“Ha, you arent. I need my number one scientist here doing her work.” T’Challa strode in, nodding to the Wolves before arching a brow in surprise. “Starting late today?” 

“Actually Brother, we’ve done it. Y/N Wolf is back and just as strong as ever.” 

The King's expression widened, and he turned towards the two of them. 

“That is fantastic news Y/N!” Taking your hand, he enclosed it in both of his before lifting your knuckles to brush his lips against them. “I suppose I should set you both up for transportation home?” 

Steve looked down at you as he spoke. “Tomorrow morning perhaps? If Y/N is up for it, I would like to take her out for a run, if your offer still stands?” 

T’Challa nodded with a smile. “Of course Alpha, I wish it was a full moon but you two can go anywhere within’ Wakandas borders.” 

You couldn't help but feel excitement at the idea of a night run with Steve through Wakanda. 

Resting the remainder of that day in your rooms, You and Steve were lazy lovers passing the time, mostly talking about how good it would be to be home, as well as how you both wanted to stay a bit longer. A light dinner, and then when night started to fall, you both made your way down to the palace entrance to find T’Challa and Shuri waiting, offering to show you two around a bit. Steve’s hand rubbed against your back, kissing your shoulder while whispering. “Are you up for this Little One?” 

“More than you know Steve.” You stated while stepping away from Steve, shedding your clothing. The Alpha kept you blocked from anyone else while doing the same motions, and it was rather quick you had shifted into your Little Wolf, shaking your fur out and twisting to meet up with the Alpha, which he twined around you as well in greeting. His muzzle pressing against your ruff, and long swipes of a pink tongue cleaned your face, your ears, dragging down your neck while you nibbled back in his fur, rubbing against him momentarily. It was a joyful reunion for the Wolves as well as you and both of you started to play with one another until the two Panthers joined you with graceful fluid like bounds. They gave loud purrs as the two felines head butted each other and bright yellow eyes turned to the Wolves, flicking the tips of their tails, and rolling forward in the fluid way only cats can achieve. They ended up disappearing down the trail leading away from the palace, and the jungle started to come to life with the sound of monkeys giving out warning shrieks that the panthers were back in their domain. 

Your ears were perked after them, and you pushed to leap forward, Steve following right behind as you ducked into the heavy jungle foliage. 

Leaves slapped at the Alpha, making him growl and snap at the heavy foliage, missing the northern pine forests of home. But it started to thin, and he caught up to you as you slowed down, your head swiveling back and forth, inhaling for the panthers. Steve brushed up alongside of you, lifting his muzzle to locate the Panthers, when he caught sight of shadows moving in the jungle canopy. A loud roar made you tilt up as well, ear perked as the smaller of the two started dropping down till she came sailing through the air and landing lightly, she pawed gently at You, enticing you into a playful chase. You immediately sprinted for Steve’s side, and he settled in. Steve watched his Little Wolf and the Panther chase one another around vine covered trees and dart under giant leaves dripping water. First You would be on Shuris side, nipping at her shoulder when she would spin nimbly and tackle you till you raced with a quick burst, outpacing the Panther, back and forth you two twisted and turned to get away from the other. 

T’Challa jumped down alongside Steve, kneading the ground before sinking down, flicking his tail back and forth, watching as well. The Alphas head moved back and forth, never breaking eye contact, and when the two of you faced off, you growled and Shuri roared back at you, testing each other.

It alarmed the Alpha, who moved to get up, and T’Challa beat him to it, giving his own sharp roar calling his sister back when he sensed the Alpha next to him getting uneasy. Shuri snarled back at him, headbutting You in a goodbye before leaping back up into the canopy. The King bowed his head to the Alpha before joining his sister. Leaving the two of you alone. 

You sensed your Alphas unease at the moment, and you padded up to him, brushing up under his chin and nibbling at him to settle him back down. But he nudged at you, pushing you down the path you two had been exploring earlier, ready to keep you two moving. You both fell in an easy stride together this time as the jungle floor opened up, mossy and green. Everything seemed to cool off under the canopy, both the wolves comfortable. Little animals scattered, insects buzzing around with bright colors, that were a constant interest to you as you would snap at them and send them flying again to escape. Soon the Jungle gave way to tall grass, and the sound of animals surrounded you in the dark. 

Keeping close to your Alpha, you both ran up on a herd of elephants, their long trunks reaching out as you both stretched your necks, sniffing at them before leaping away when they tried to touch you. When one stomped her foot in warning, Steve had enough, and steered you away from the herd. Weaving back and forth through the grass, you both skirted low to the ground past Rhinos grazing, lifting their heads to watch you both pass by. Neither of you wanted to feel the edge of that horn, so decided to give a wider circle around. Steve was sure to keep himself between You and the massive beasts. They came up on leaping gazelles racing away from them, and both of you couldnt help but give chase to these. You both gave up after a few minutes, the deer like creatures much faster than you two could ever be, even Sam and Pietro would have a hard time pacing along with them. Once it was apparent neither of you were continuing, they set back to grazing. 

There was only one part of the run that turned Steve uneasy. They happened to stumble across a pack of Hyenas scavenging a carcass, and they all took interest in your unique scent. Their laughter echoing around the wolves in a menacing way. Steve nudged at you to lead you away from them when one skirted close to snap its jaws and push you two to back up. Steve turned on the pack of wild Hyenas, stepping over the carcass and started to descend on the two of you. Steve snarled deeply, the fur along his spine raising and his ruff bristling, turning his focus on the Hyenas Alpha Female as she stalked closer. Steve's fangs flashed in the dark, and his demands made her cower in surprise at the force coming from him. The rest of her pack stalling seeing their Alpha lower before him, to a male most of all. The laughter started to grow high pitched with unease at the situation. You ducked around the bristling Alpha, ears pinned back, rumbling back at her. The Hyena sensed they weren't just ordinary animals to be chased off. Wet dragging breaths overcame the scent of blood and decay from the carcass she had been feasting on, filling her lungs with ice cold sensations, unlike anything her kind had experienced before. They were similar to the Panthers that prowled their lands, except they weren't. Missing from the shifters was the muskiness of the jungle. Their scent was sharper, it stung her nose with a cold sensation. Even their bodies were not made for streaking across the sun soaked plains or traveling in heavy leaf cover. Too big, too much fur, muzzles long with fangs, yet not made to rip into thick animal hides like theirs was. They were just too different, and she didn't want to test what they would do to her. Shaking her head to clear their scent from her senses, she started sinking further back from the growling Alpha’s reach. Her laughing bark sent the wild hyenas scattering away, breaking their attack formation. Retreating back towards the carcass, once they fell back, she skirted away, out of Steve’s sight. 

Once she was gone, you brushed against Steve to ease him back to you, and the two of you turned away from where the hyenas were cackling out of sight, fighting once more among themselves over the carcass they had claimed. You headed back towards the jungle, avoiding the rest of the plains occupants. Which Steve was relieved, another reason for them to return home. At home, the forests belonged to them. There were no worries in what was lurking out of sight. In Wakanda it was all different, they were not the beast at the very top. Deciding it was enough for you both tonight, when you gave a wide mouthed, fang flashing yawn, you both returned to the palace, and made it up to your room. 

Once inside and the door closed, Steve backed you onto the bed, and settled over you, covering you in soft bites and whispered words pressed against your skin. “Are you tired Little One?” he let his tongue drag between your breasts while he lowered down your body slightly. Your hands roamed over his back, and rubbed the back of his neck while you arched into his mouth where he sucked a nipple into his warmth, lashing his tongue over the peak and then rolling you gently between his teeth. 

You hummed in satisfaction, letting your body roll underneath his while you turned your gaze down at Steve loving on your breasts, his hand had the other covered, kneading it lightly and using his thumb to tease the tip till it hardened. “Not too tired Alpha.” you admitted and he lifted his head with a grin. Leaning up to kiss you deeply while using a hand to spread your thighs open, in which you curled your legs around his waist. 

“That's good, cause I haven't stopped thinking about you wrapped around me like this all evening.” He said while he claimed you with a roll of his hips, filling you with him as his hands weaved with yours. It was soft and slow, taking his time to bring you to the point you were pleading softly against his shoulder for a release. Steve’s hand cupped the back of your head while kissing your temple, his hips starting to move faster in and out of you with a grunt of effort. It was quick when your pussy started to squeeze him and milk him, ready for his knot to lock you to him. Steve brought  you to the point of howling his name and clutching yourself around him, clinging to him and not able to let go. You settled on his chest, and let the silence bring a sense of calm and peace over both of you. When you two finally fell asleep, you were sprawled over his chest and sated. There was no need for words to end the day together. 

The dawn came to find you two still tangled around one another. 

T’Challa, Shuri and the Queen all waited for the two of you, the jet ready to be boarded. It was a teary goodbye for you and Shuri, growing rather close to the young woman in your time here, Steve firmly shook T’Challas hand with a thank you and bowed to the Queen. You let your hand slide up Steves' back as he rose once more, and you let your head lower, a flash of the back of your neck showing her your respect. 

“Thank you, everyone for your help. Should you ever need anything from us, please let us know. My Pack, and myself especially are indebted to you.” Steve said truthfully, and T’Challa smiled. 

“I'm sure we will see each other again Alpha, Y/N, have a safe travel home. Steve, I'm sure you are familiar with flying?” 

“Of course, we will have it sent back as soon as possible.” 

“That is all I ask.”

Finishing with goodbyes, you both stepped on the jet. You couldn't help the look of awe that slid over your face while Steve immediately fell into the Pilots chair, while you buckled into the co pilots. You watched as he leaned forward to flick on switches and the engine hummed to life. “Ready for home Little One?” He asked as his hands settled on the steering column. 

You wriggled in your seat and leaned in the window waving while speaking. “Absolutely, take us home Alpha.” 

When Steve heard what he wanted to har, he shifted the column, and the jet started lifting off. You squealed a bit as your heart went into your throat, laughing at the sensation. Steve grinned over at your reaction, taking your hand while he pointed the jet in the direction needed, and let it speed up. The flight home was filled with you questioning the dash of the aircraft, and Steve doing his best to teach you how it all worked. 

Of course T’Challa didn't send you all home empty handed, and once Steve landed the Jet just outside of the compound, and all the Pack came to greet Steve, you happened to stay inside a few more minutes. Exploring further, you happened to stumble on several crates in the back. “Steve? Come look at this.” 

Ducking his head back in, Steve went to find you, and located you kneeling next to one of the crates, trying to find how it opened. Steve was quick to pry open a top, and it was just filled with different items Wakanda specialized in. “Hey Sam, get some people up here, we come bearing gifts.” 

Fruity wine, dried food, clothing, weapons, if T’Challa could send it he did, and the rest of the afternoon was sorting through it together. 

Finally that evening found you pouring a glass of the wine for Sara at the island in Steve’s kitchen, telling Sara and Sam all about Wakanda. Steve now and then piped up, filling in the time you were unconscious to the world.

Once the questions died down, you cleared your throat. “Has anyone heard from Bucky, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro?” 

Sara sipped from her wine glass and shook her head, Sam at her side did the same motion. “Nothing yet. But Natasha was right out on their trail as soon as she got back. You know she wont stop till she finds something.” 

Steve poured himself a taste of the wine, and handed it to you afterwards to finish off. “She will probably check in a few days, let us know what's going on.” Glancing at the time and then outside, he nipped at your shoulder. “Ready for the Full Moon Run Little One?” 

You tipped your head back to drain the last swallow and set the glass down, hoping off the stool at the bar. 

“Yup, we will see you two out there.” You said to Sam and Sara, who waved you two off to give you a chance to shift in private. Racing out the door, you leaped off the porch, twisting on your toes to watch Steve, who paused to shed his shirt, grinning to himself at your enthusiasm. 

<We got lucky.> Your Little Wolf crooned, admiring the Alphas fit form as he started to stalk towards you, undoing his belt to slide out of the pants. 

That we did. 

You started to shed clothes, dancing just out of his reach till you started to run away, tossing your panties at him last before you fell into your wolf form, howling at him to hurry up. Steve made a show of inhaling against them before stuffing them in the back of his jeans pocket, quick to yank them off and toss them back towards his porch while you sprinted away, howling for him to come join you

<Welcome Home Steve. Now let's go get her before she is gone!> 

Welcome Home indeed. 

He shifted and paused at the tree line, his howl bursting through the night, signaling the start of the run, and he followed after You while you weaved among the trees, leading him deeper into their running grounds, back home where they belonged. 

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

The Lost Children #Writer Wednesday Din Djarin Modern Day Bounty Hunter x f!reader

For #Writer Wednesday created by the amazing @autumnleaves1991-blog and tagging @clydesducktape (thanks a lot for the hard work of compiling everything each week)

Summary: This a part 2 of a fic I wrote a few months another Wednesday, read it here. After you scape with Din and your child, you try to find a life again even if that means he has to leave you.

Warnings: Language, talking about neglecting children or abandoned kids, guns. This is fluff with angst and Din being a softie but a dumbass expressing feelings

A/N: I'm super tired, so be ready to find many grammar and mispellings I didn't have the time to really read it through.

The lost children

For a bit, that’s what he said, what he promised until you’re safe and settled.

“So you can keep your little kid in the babycare with the rest of the kids while you’re working. One of the cabins to the right of the front office we’ll be entirely yours. We only ask that you keep clean and in a good state”

“Of course” you’re shining, happy and excited

“You heard that Greg, we’ll have a place on our own” your arms hold the baby tightly, rocking him softly until he giggles. When you turn to Din, he can see your eyes glowing, kissing little Greg’s head, you whisper thank you

Thanking him? what for? He just pointed out that small, almost entirely ripped from the wall, announcement of a local hotel in the middle of the woods that looked for personnel willing to work and live in the resort when they were stopping at a gas station.

It is a perfect place to hide and live a peaceful life and let a baby grow up in the middle of nature. Greg and you could be happy. So why is he thinking that he should make up some excuse so you don't stay, so you don’t leave him. He should be selfish and grab your hand and run away again like you’ve been doing for weeks now, but that’s not life for a baby, and you deserve it, leave the past behind. And him, even if he doesn’t want to admit, it’s part of your past of that runaway woman that commited many mistakes.

But Din’s a bounty hunter, his life on the road, from one job to the next would only make you unhappy, and at the end, you would hate him; and that’s it’s not an option.

Nothing has made Din happier than seeing you smile at him, the little comments here and there you tell him praising him and thanking him one, twice, a thousand times for helping you, the way the baby caresses his face with his small hand and those big eyes looking at him intently until he smiles with only those two little teeth. The way you look perfect, almost like a Madonna from the Renaissance, when the street lights hit your face while he’s driving and you hold your baby against your chest, both of you sleeping in the car.

Would you think he’s a creep for staring? There’s a warmth that grows inside him when he stares at you and baby Greg. A warmth he doesn’t want to let go. He cannot offer you a good life and Din doesn’t want to force you to live like he does, just because he’s so selfish to let you go.

“So what do you think?”

The manager leaves them to think about the offert. And Din balances his big body from one of his legs to the other, hands on his hips, he sighs

“I think”

I think you should be with me

I think I should protect you

I think I should protect Greg

I think I want to be with you, the both of you, forever

I think I love you

But he doesn’t say it

“I think you should take it. It is a good place for a kid”

You frown, even baby Greg looks at him puzzled from the crook of his mother’s neck

“Yes, it seems great, quiet...And I like that Greg could be with other kids. But what about you?”

Your eyes look big, pleading, there’s a question, a petion in them but you don’t say it with words so maybe Din is imagining it, he wants so bad that you will stay with him that maybe he’s making that up

“I will go and…”

And miss you

And miss Greg

And be alone again

“Start the business again somewhere else” he shrugs, and he sees the light flicking in your eyes, the idea in your head being shattered, you’ll never ask the question and he will never answer.

“But you can stay a few days, right? Rest, eat properly for once and repair the car”

“I don’t know…”

What would hurt more? leaving already or prolonging it?

“I don’t want to be this direct, Clint...” he likes that you keep using that nickname you gave him when you’re in public. You only use his real name when you’re alone. Making it even more special, it’s intimate, more anything he has ever felt.

“but you need a shower. And I do too and this stinky baby” you bury your nose on little Gregs neck and it makes him laugh out loud that angelic and sweet giggle hits him hard and before he even knows it, Din is nodding

“A few days won’t hurt”

It’s surprising how they fall easily in a routine. How they seem to find a perfect way around each other, a perfect model like the stars and planets always circling around each other and never colliding. You, dancing softly in the kitchen humming while you stir the soup, baby Greg chasing his little frog while Din holds his back so he doesn’t lose his balance

“Hey, you want this?” Din smiles fondly to the baby and with his long arm places the soft toy far away from him “C’mon like before “ his big hands on his side while the babe excitedly starts crawling towards his frog

“Hey! look! he’s getting faster!”

You smile at them, that big and serious man has the proudest smile, so bright and pure watching your baby grow before his eyes.

It’s been almost a week and he’s still repairing the car, or so he says. The manager hasn’t asked any questions and just assumed they are a family. And you must accept that you do look like one, a broken and weird one, but more than anything you have ever experienced.

And you wish he stayed forever that he could be a father to Greg, he certainly acts the part.

“Dinner is ready.”

The scent of the pines, the bugs chirping and the soft crackle of the fire is the perfect lullaby. Your baby has taken the habit of falling asleep against Din’s wide shoulder while the three of them enjoy the small porch outside the cabin.

“I think the car is ready”

The words you fear the most float in the air and you’re almost tempted to ignore them

“Hmm” you don’t face him yet, just look at the trees and try to swallow the pain “And where will you go?”

“Don’t know yet”

“How will I contact you?”

“I…”

“Do I have to search on Craigslist? Some old codewords in the newspaper? How do you even find a bounty hunter?” you’re laughing, but it really doesn’t hide the pain in your tone

“I have a phone” Din rolls his eyes at you but he’s amused, surprisingly he’s smiling more since you met him, he’s not that stern or cold as you pictured him when he caught you

“That would have come in handy when we were lost in the desert”

“I mean a fixed one”

“You have a house then?” you turn to him, lowering your voice midsentence as you see your son sleeping peacefully on Din’s arms

“Sort of”

“I will need you to expand that a little bit more Din”

Din in the quiet of the night, the moon, the stars and the fire illuminating your face he admires you pronounce it: The tip of your tongue showing softly between your teeth and he wishes to see you repeat it one, twice a thousand times.

“My family, my...it’s difficult to explain, anyway, it’s my safeplace, where I go to rest, I get the information for my next jobs, etc”

“Oh...okay, so I call you there?”

“Yeah you could, and write if you want” he offers with pleasing eyes

“Penpals, great” you answer and it sounds more sarcastic that you intended

“You could send me pictures of Greg”

Din lowers his eyes to the soft crown of the baby, that soft place on his head where he smells so sweet and tender. He can believe that he’s going and there will be no nights like this.

“I will do”

Your eyes get teary watching him softly kiss you babe, carrying to his crib whispering sweet words so he doesn’t wake up.

“So I’ve packed many water bottles, and those protein bars in case you get yourself lost in the desert again, cowboy. Sadly you won’t have my unparalleled company” you joke tapping him on his arm

“No, I won’t” Din forces a smile “I...Take care” he awkwardly squeezes your forearm

“You too-Shit!” you scream slapping your forehead “The sandwiches! I knew I forgot something. I made you something for lunch. I’ll be right back”

You press little Greg to Din’s arms before running away leaving them with wide eyes and a confused look

“Take care of you mother, kid, sometimes she can be a lot to handle”

“Hi, Ken” you say breathly as you storm inside the reception and get inside the staff meeting room.

“Hi! Has your boyfriend left already?” He asks while writing something on his agenda

“Not yet” you say looking for the lunch bag you had prepared inside the fridge. You hand stops midway when you heard her voice

It is horrible, we have not consolation, our baby has been kidnapped and we have no information

Her fake cries fill the room, some national tv is making a report on the kidnapping of little Greg. The tragic zoom at her face fades away when they show a picture of your baby.

“Fuck…” you mutter

I need him back. He’s my baby

“He’s not your baby, you bitch” you spat under your breath

“What did you say, hun, you need something” Ken raises his eyes to you, one eyebrow arched, he follows your eyes to the TV

“That baby looks exactly…” and then you know

You grab your sandwich bag and strom out as you did before. Din is holding Greg on his hip while he finishes loading the trunk with his bags

“We’re out of here”

You cry when you reach to him, pushing him away, you close the trunk door

“Wait what happened?”

“No time, let’s go”

How has this man trusted you so much as to run away with you? For all he knows you could actually be a kidnapper, that story about leaving your son with someone you trusted and that eventually you discovered that they were assholes could be fake. But he doesn’t. He runs away, drives and drives without asking a question.

“She had the guts to say it was his son, he isn’t. She barely had it for a few months until I could settle my life. And then she asked me for a crazy amount of money because children are expensive you know I fucking payed for a a new pool in her stupid house, while my son was always dressed in old clothes, too big or too small. They didn’t care for him”

And on top of trusting you, he lets you rant away all you anger

“There’s no way I’m giving him back. I rather die!”

He stops the car, the road again is silent, dressed in the colors of the sunset

“Calm down, you’re scaring him” Greg looks at you with trembling lips not knowing why he should be scared or angry, he just knows that his mama is upset “He will stay with you, I promise”

“The police must be searching for us” your warm tears cloud your eyes

“They won’t find us where we are going”

He ditches the car somewhere and you see him burning it. He carries the big bag on his back and hands you water and snacks from time to time.

“Just a few miles more”

The red stone looks like some ethereal cathedral around you, a palace in the middle of nowhere almost like another world, magical and eerie. If there’re marks or signs you don’t see them, but Din walks among the rock so sure of his steps searching among the labyrinth of rocks. And suddenly…

You hear the soft clicks of many guns' trigger locks going off at the same time. But Din softly whistles some tune and from all over: up the rocks, between them, children come out. Kids, all different from one another, some really young, others tall and weirdly looking teenagers in that mixed age where they are not a child nor an adult and others already grown to be young adults.

“Din” a curly haired girl dressed with camouflage clothes runs towards him with open arms, she has a crooked smile as she has lost some of her front teeth

“Hey, gumball!” Din bents down when she hugs him, her sweet face pressed against his belly

“Who are they?” a boy, holding a shotgun to his side, his face full of red dots, frowns at you

“They’re friends who need help” Din explains raising one of his arms trying to calm down the group

“Are they lost too?” Gumball asks

“Yes” Din nods

“But she’s a mum” some kid screams from above

“Mums can be lost too. C’mon, we’ve been walking for hours, can we go home?” he answers

“Of course, let’s go. Boba will be happy to see you” Gumball grabs Din’s hand and smile widely jumping happily through the stone corridors

“Wait, Din, what the fuck? who the fuck is Boba? What are these kids doing here?”

Gumball fires a concerned look at you

“She said two bad words”

“Gonna let it pass, Gum, she’s a bit scared and tired” Din smirks your way and you question in silent muttering the fuck again and again

“I see you pronouncing it, you know?” Gumball rolls her eyes “No bad words or you pay the price”

“Yes, understood, sorry” you close your lips hard trying not to ask more questions until you arrive home or whatever that is.

After a few minutes of turning left right, left right, right left you’re completely lost until the stone towers open up a way to a plain and on it, a ranch.

Some horses roam around nibbling on the pale green grass that grows on the land. A house on the centre is painted white but the paint looks old and chipped.

Now in the clear you count the children that surround you, ten, ten kids in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to the Watch” Din smiles at you, he almost look shy and earning a upset look from Gumball, he releases her hand and holds you with his big palm on your back

“What is this place, Din?”

“Home” he simply answers

The kids run through the porch screaming and opening without a care the door to the house

“Yeah, I heard you, little heathens” a masculine voice screams from the interior

His hard steps clack on the ground and you hear the spurs before you see him arriving with his leather boots, his used jeans and a low cowboy hat covering him from the sun

“I thought something must have happened to you” he says, evaluating Din. His tanned face is covered by a long and twisted scar from his lip to his forehead, he has dark eyes like Din but colder in a way, very deep and when they fall into you, you hug your baby tightly without thinking it

“I see” he says “C’mon on in, that baby can’t stay too long in the sun”

The house is nice, surprisingly tidy given the fact that there are ten kids living in it. The furniture looks like the exhibit of an old auction house, each one of them completely different of style, color or age from the other.

The man that everyone call Boba gives some orders to the group and they efficiently start doing what he asks

“Prepare a room for our guests”

“Bring water and food”

“Prepare some fresh fruit for the baby”

You sit, little Greg with eyes wide open. As any baby he’s absorbed by all the children around him, and he reaches with his little hands trying to grab them

“Little fella wants to play, you can leave him on the rug if he wants to”

“He’s fine here, thanks” you say holding him although Greg is already removing your hands from him wanting to explore

“Boba, we have nowhere to go” Din explains sipping on his cold water

“I guess, you have never brought anybody here” He reclines himself on his rocking chair watching Din intenly

“We need to protect them for a while, until we can find a solution”

“You’ll be safe here, you know that, you can stay as long as you want, just respect the house rules” and he points to a wood board, engraved in them are a few rules

Be respectful of yourself and others

I finish my tasks as promised, ask for help if I can’t

I will not curse

Be clean of yourself and your environment

Protect your family and your house above all

“They seem...pretty logical, won’t be a problem to follow them” you smile uncomfortably

“Well, somebody said you have a potty mouth, young lady. So watch it, but for the moment, you may rest, we will see for the rest tomorrow” He sighs when he gets up and taps on Din’s shoulder before he goes to the kitchen

“Let’s make dinner” you hear him scream, before the rumbling of pans and chopping and children screaming start

“Din…” you say after a moment

“I know you have a million questions”

“Duh!” you laugh nervously

“This is my family, we’re not related by blood but by circumstances. Lost kids, abandoned, neglected; we have a safe place here and in time we go out in the world and make our own life but we always have the Watch over us. A place where we’re watched over, taken care of, listened…” his caramel eyes glow and you see his strong and stern facade crumble before your eyes, in this place he can relax. He feels safe so you can too, right?

“We’ll be fine here” He reaches for you hand, the one that holds little Greg caressing him with your thumb, and covers both of you squeezing softly

We, it’s the second time he has referred to you as a group, you and me and Greg, We.

“We’ll be fine” You smile back, lowering your face, you kiss his knuckles, leaving a warmth there Din will be holding for hours.

You don’t notice, but the whole time during dinner he passes his thumb over that small place of his skin where you kissed him.

(Hey! remember when you read that fic in May? I continued it...so sorry that it took so long, I've taken the liberty of tagging you since you were interested in a follow up from the first one @fangirlalexia @childrenofthewatch )

[nobody-knose--archive]

when you get the chance tell me more about logan whitehurst im interested in this man :>

oh my god where do i Fucking start i literally haven’t even listened to all his stuff, been into the man’s work for maybe a week or two tops, but there’s just. so much to talk about. i mean, he was in 2 bands (little tin frog & the velvet teen), released music on his own under the logan whitehurst {and the junior science club} names, sure, sure, that’s cool, but do you know about vanilla? he was a plastic snowman with his own livejournal page & distinct typing style and he’d make appearances at logan’s concerts too. or what about the classic song outside my window, which was performed by a completely random dude (over the instrumental to the song monkeys are bad people <3) at the end of a liveshow that was recorded & later slapped onto an album, making it a sort of in-joke within the logan whitehurst “fanbase” (to my extremely limited knowledge. take all this with a grain of salt).

but that’s only his musical career! did you know he made a shit ton of comics & other art? did you know i love his art style, especially what he used for copper etchings & other more serious works? like. god i don’t want to steal a bunch of stuff from his website go look at this shit yourself.

also can i talk about the covers? i really want to talk about the covers. he covered whole day off by oingo boingo from the album nothing to fear, one of my top 3 ob albums! he covered (with substantial collaboration from the fullerenes’ clint hoagaland!) weep day, a tmbg song! he covered big mistake by the fullerenes themselves! & don’t forget the things that happened to his songs- killed by telephones was remixed by the one & only neil cicierega, mr. lemon demon also wrote a tribute song right around the time logan died (rip) and while i would Not take my word as fact, this is Very up to change w/ the acquisition of new information, i believe it was made shortly before he died rather than after. i’d have to check the logan whitehurst livejournal pages again to be sure though.

honestly come back to me in half a month & i’ll be able to say so much more & i appreciate this ask regardless

[builder051]

hello! happy SS and I hope that things are going ok for you! Would you be interested in writing something where a big mission or something gets cancelled at the last minute and, unsure what to do with their anticipation, a character falls back on their vices? For whoever you feel like writing about. (I may be sulking because an ultra I wanted to run got cancelled due to smoke) Of course no worries if this isn't to your taste or is too vague or whatever, and I hope that you have a great week!

Fury told them they'd be jumping out of a plane without chutes, frog-gripping the tower's glass exterior, climbing up (or down, based on how close the jump got them) to the 123rd floor, busting through the window, and assailing the Korean bankers within the office, which would be set up just like the model drawn for them on their iPads. Once the tellers and on-floor management were down, they'd crack the vault, plant the bomb, and get the fuck out. The higher-ups would probably never know what happened, because Nat and Clint were good at being quiet, even when they smashed windows and fired their weapons.

But god forbid, it was cloudy that night. Fucking cloudy. The pilot refused to launch the jet in such unsure weather conditions, so the mission plan was postponed. Abandoned for the night. Rescheduled. Date TBD.

Nat's ready to rip her hair out. She's mission-ready, in her gear and everything, and now her smartwatch is flashing new instructions at her. The car isn't coming to pick her up. There will be no jet ride. No gunfight. No celebratory barhop afterward.

Nat digs the heel of her boot into the gravel of the empty lot she'd chosen as her pickup point. She looks down at her clothes. A little too all-leather to be casual. She looks like a dominatrix. It makes her laugh a little.

Nat pulls her comm out of her ear and stashes it in her pocket. She grabs her phone and texts Clint as she hikes across the street and quickly pulls a men's cotton v-neck from the laundry line dangling from the balcony a floor above. Whomever it belongs to won't miss it. There are six more hanging on the same rope. Maybe Nat will return it when she's done with it, anyway. Probably not, but it's a good sentiment.

"What?" Clint texts back. "Yes, I heard Fury the first time."

"You're not gutted?"

"If it means I get to go home this weekend..."

"Don't start on me, Barton."

Nat puts on the t shirt with her leggings, stashing her top and gloves in the corner of the lot. Now she looks unfashionable, but at least human.

"Wanna run around a little?" she asks Clint.

"And do what?"

"I don't know..." Nat taps the symbols for a happy face emoji.

"You're terrible, you know that?"

"Come pick me up." She sends him her cross streets, then after a little consideration, puts, "I'm waiting."

"Fine."

Clint's there in ten, so he must've already been in the car when Nat started chatting him up. He'd probably been as ready for the mission as she'd been, especially since the back seat's covered in grease and arrowheads.

"So where to, Madam?" Clint asks, a sigh in his voice. He, too, is wearing leather pants along with what looks like somebody else's ill-fitted polo.

"I got a few ideas."

They hit up Barnes and Noble first, ordering cheesecake and walking into each other as they read the comic books and half-priced biographies.

They think about going to the movies, but before that, Clint drives down an alley to a single storefront with the neon lights still glowing.

"What's that?" Nat asks, wrinkling her nose?

"You'll see."

Clint opens Nat's door for her and takes her hand. They walk inside to what looks like a well-appointed GNC, but everything's--

"Oh my god." Nat shakes her head. "Edibles?"

Clint grins.

"I can get you this stuff dirt cheap down the street--"

"You know I don't smoke," Clint says, putting up his hands. "Not since the kids."

"Whatever, buddy." Nat shakes her head. "If you're up for putting up the dough... good on you."

"Come on," Clint grins. "What do you want?" He points to a jar. "Mango? Watermelon?"

"You're not serious..."

"Even Laura likes 'em. Not around the kids, though."

"Well, duh." Nat shakes her head. She plays with a bottle of sugar-coated strawberry gumdrops. "These are, like, one-and-done, huh?"

"Yeah, I can attest," Clint says. "One is sociable. Two kills you for a day."

"And you know this... how?"

"Well, Laura weighs more than you do." Clint grins.

"I still can't believe you brought me to a head shop." Nat laughs.

"Do you remember when we used to smoke after missions? When we were like, twenty-something?" There's a glint of reminiscence in Clint's eye.

"Sure. Is this, like, your grown-up version?"

"Maybe." Clint shrugs."

"I don't have a purse." Nat grins. "Can we sneak 'em into the movies in your pocket?"

"No, we hit up in the car first, you dumbass." Clint hits her softly in the shoulder.

Nat lets herself laugh. "Right. We are gonna have a good night, aren't we?"

"Who said we weren't?" Clint smiles back.

Nat nods. It's not working out like she expected, but in a way, everything is absolutely perfect.

[quietlyimplode]

Whumptober2020 - Day 11 - Psych 101

Day 1 - Waking Up Restrained // Day 2 - Kidnapped // Day 3 - Manhandled // Day 4 - Caged// Day 5 - Rescue // Day 6 - No More // Day 7 - Support // Day 8 - Isolation // Day 9 - Take Me Instead // Day 10 - Blood Loss/Trail of Blood // Day 11 - Psych 101

Natasha’s first therapy session.

“God you’re like a ninja.” He tries to hide his surprise with sass.

“You just don’t pay attention.”

“My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.

“When does she get here?” Right to the point he sees. Tries to see it for what it really is, anxiety and trepidation.

——-

“How does this work?”

Tony looks up, surprised. Focuses his attention to Natasha, no context for what on earth she’s just come here for. It’s the first time he’s seen her since Clint brought her back; it’s been a couple of days but he honestly thought she’d look worse. If only he bounced back as quick.

“What do you mean?” He clarifies, a tad exasperated that this is their initial conversation.

“I mean how does this work? I need…” she pauses, gulps, looks resolutely, “a therapist and you just happen to get one that Clint knows and trusts, that will come to the tower? What did you do?”

Tony side eyes her, “I made some calls, paid some salaries. It’ll be fine.” He smiles, “who knows; if she’s any good maybe I’ll join you in therapy. Pepper always says I need to go.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and stalks out.

Feeling that the conversations over, Tony returns to his project. He’s trying to figure out how to add in a first aid kit into his suit. One would think that it’d be relatively easy, but logistically it’s built for stealth and ease of use - nanoparticles aren’t great at adding solid matter. Maybe in his old suit he could have added compartments in, but the tech of his new suit is just so good. He breaks down what he wants in his kit, maybe he can modify that, and build and program the nanobites to do what the old school kit would do. Maybe…

She’s in front of him again.

“God you’re like a ninja.” He tries to hide his surprise with sass.

“You just don’t pay attention.”

“My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.

“When does she get here?” Right to the point he sees. Tries to see it for what it really is, anxiety and trepidation.

“I don’t know, Nat, soon? I said 4, so I assume she’ll be here at 4.” Looks at her, watches for a nervous tick. Doesn’t see one but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Adds, “I’ve told her to set up in mid level - the room where Pepper used to work out of, you remember?” Tries to get her thinking of something else.

He looks at the clock, 3.50. Turns around so they’re not facing each other; feels it’s less confronting. “Do you want me to get Friday to let you know when she’s ready?

When she doesn’t answer, Tony assumes she’s left again. Asks Friday to let the doctor in and direct here where to set up; and to let Natasha know when everything is ready; maybe give a 2 minute warning. Just because he’s organised it, doesn’t mean he wants to deal with it.

.

He’s back working when he gets a notification that the doctors set up but Natasha’s nowhere to be found. Friday comments that she thinks she’s on the roof but can’t confirm that. Tony’s torn. Let Clint deal with it or give a clumsy speech of why it’s good to talk through things and be a complete hypocrite?

He asks Friday where Clint is. No read there either. Friday thinks maybe the roof too. Tony sits. Wonders if he needs to intervene, help. Clint’s had it rough, looked worn when he returned, had tried to keep tabs on her at pretty much all times. Maybe he should help.

Tony puts down his tools, takes of his gloves and heads for the roof. Asks Friday to make the doctor comfortable and check if she needs anything whilst she waits.

He reaches the roof and sees the couple (he assumes anyway, who knows with these two?). They both looks stressed. Clint’s hand is touching in between his eyebrows and Natasha’s hands are in tight fists. They’re talking tersely - not yelling, but short sentences packed with meaning that potentially only they know. They’re not even speaking English.

“Nat?” He calls out

“she’s here.” Clint says.

Natasha looks caught.

“I’m not going.”

“Nat,” Clint tries.

Tony doesn’t feel particularly tactful.

Tact is just not saying true stuff. He’ll pass on that.

“Natasha, the Doctor is waiting, you agreed. Give it ten minutes - five even, if you don’t like what she’s got to say you can leave.” Clint's nodding.

Natashas scowling.

“Come on. If you don’t go, you have to hang out with me and Clint. And you know the whole time, we’re all going to be thinking that you should have just ripped the bandaid off and gone. Plus, if not today; then I’ll ask her to come back tomorrow; or the next day; or the one after. You get me? We aren’t letting this go. You need someone, that’s not; well, us.”

They wait her out.

It’s 4.10, Tony hopes that the doc has nowhere to be.

Clint walks towards the door, holds it open for the others.

“Come on. Put on an alarm and suck it up.”

If looks could kill, Tony’s sure that Clint would be eviscerated.

Natasha rolls her eyes and follows Clint through the door. Tony follows behind them.

They all but frog-march her to the office. Stand with her in a row in front of the door.

Tony knocks, Clint opens the door, and they wait, again, for Natasha’s courage to push her through.

.

Clint and Tony stand guard outside. Tony makes a bet that She’ll be in there for five minutes. Clint shakes his head. Doesn’t take the bait.

They wait.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Clint shoots Tony a look.

Thirty minutes.

Sixty minutes.

It’s ten to six when Natasha emerges. She looks.. Tony doesn’t know if there’s a word for how she looks. But she does look pleased to see them waiting.

“I’m coming back the day after tomorrow.” She announces.

Shrugs.

Struts off.

Tony’s fairly proud of her.

Clint looks hopeful.

Tony walks off, asking Friday to keep the doctor on call and on the books for the foreseeable future.

——-

Team, I love Clint and Nat and Tony dynamics. Be prepared for more. The weekends will be under the cut tomorrow. Also 50 points if you catch the buffy quote.

[feenyreadscomics]

Rosaries, Part 2

Part one has been published! Rosaries is a fanfic feat. Steve Rogers (MCU) and Matt Murdock (comics adjacent). In this they exist in the same world, no dimension hopping required. Enjoy!

Matt was having a bad day.

No, bad day was an understatement. It was terrible. The worst.

Firstly, yesterday involved fighting the Hand. Which always sucked. (It would be so much easier if the ninjas would just. Stay dead.) During that fight, Matt got stabbed. Nothing major, but ya know, Matt didn't like feeling like a jelly donut. And the Ramirez case was turning pear shaped. And Karen called in sick. Which. Ugh. It would mean Matt needing to do more research, which...if the courts were actually willing to be ADA compliant, it would be far easier than it actually was. And Matt can't exactly sue the entire justice system.

Then Stilt man showed up. Stilt man isnt exactly a problem, just...Stilt man. Like, Matt has to stop him, but Stilt man doesn't do damage. Today he was attempting to rob a bodega. A bodega.

And just when Matt thought today was done, that maybe he could get a good night's sleep for once, frog monsters, and consequently, the Avengers, showed up.

Tall, blond(?), and handsome(?) included. Or at the very least, tall and loaded with muscles. Which possibly posed a problem. Matt doubted saying he had a twin would work, if Steve put the pieces together. So it goes.

The frog monsters themselves were giving him a hard time. They had quite the jump, and Matt's best hope of killing them was to grab onto a leg, and smack it with a billy club.

This was slightly more effective then hitting them with a pool noodle.

The day of suckitude culminated with Matt losing his grip on one of the frogs, and falling into a dumpster. With Hawkeye. But at least Hawkeye was useful, and just using the dumpster as cover, and "could one hundred percent get out, I just prefer to have protection on all four sides." Clint's heartrate spiked a bit. Lies from the archer man.

On the other hand, it's not like Matt was being super helpful as is. So he sat and waited. This is dumb. Why can't the Avengers keep their intergalactic weirdness to themselves? Matt was snapped out of his sulking by Hawkeye.

"Hey, Diablo! Can you check and see if Stark is coming over here."

"Can't you?"

"I'm a little busy!" Hawkeye fired a few exploding arrows.

"Fuck my life," Matt muttered.

"Is Stark coming in or not? Cuz I'm almost tapped out!"

Matt grabbed Hawkeye by the waist and threw him out of the dumpster.

"What the shit, Daredevil!"

Matt didn't respond, but vaulted himself over the side of the dumpster, grabbed Hawkeye's wrist, and ran.

The duo zigzagged, narrowly avoiding being squashed, when Matt smelled a distinctive smell. One of radiation, testosterone, and bananas. One of... a rare smell. But unmistakable. Steve.

Matt turned around, nearly ripping Hawkeye's arm out of his socket. Steve had a shield, and would most likely be able to direct them to safety. Assuming Steve wasn't in the middle of a fight. Or got hurt. Matt tried not to think too hard about the second one.

Matt, of course, had the luck of a broken mirror. Steve was down, unconscious. "Hawkeye, can you support Steve's head while I pick him up and walk?"

"On it." Steve was picked up and draped over Matt's back. Hawkeye cradled Steve's head.

"Can you contact anyone?" Matt hissed.

"Nope. Comms are down."

"Ok, I've got a burner phone in my right pocket, can you grab it?" Hawkeye obliged.

"Dude I think your phone is broken. The screen won't turn on."

"Take Steve, be careful not to jostle his ribs, he has a few broken ones on his left, give me the phone, I'll make the call."

"How do you even..." Hawkeye grunted as Steve's weight was placed on his shoulders.

"Phone." Hawkeye handed it over.

"Hey Claire, I have an injured friend- no we cant get to a hospital, there are mutated frogs- he has broken ribs and a sprained ankle- I know you have to work the night shift, I don't know who to ask- see you in a few." Daredevil moved his attention to Hawkeye. "Follow me."

--

After some finagling, a two block sprint, and a long multi floor walk, the trio arrived at Claire's apartment.

Clint knocked.

"Come in!" The door swung open. Inside were two women. One of them was extremely pale, with shoulder length black hair. The other was dark skinned, and had her hair pulled back.

"Lay him down on the couch," one of the women instructed Matt. "Linda, can you get the icepacks?" She must be Claire.

The pale skinned, dark haired woman, hurried to the freezer, and grabbed the ice packs.

"Ok, now tell me, what were his injuries again?"

"Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, probably a concussion, and a sprained ankle."

"When you found him, was he conscious?" Claire asked.

"Nope," Daredevil responded.

Linda, Claire, and Daredevil settled around Steve. Claire would give orders to Daredevil and Linda, moreso to Linda. Daredevil was able to give a large amount of information on Steve's injuries to Claire, which Hawkeye was both grateful for and disturbed by. Daredevil shouldn't be able to tell Steve was injured (especially the twisted ankle...how the hell could he tell Steve twisted his ankle? they didn't see him walk or anything) but could.

Once most of Steve's injuries were treated, Linda turned to Clint.

"Is he injured?"

"Nope," Daredevil replied.

"Ok. Since I'm not going to get an answer as to wheather or not you are injured. Shirt. Off."

"My dear, I save that for the second date." Daredevil smirked.

"Fine. Go die in a ditch. See if I care." Linda began making tea. "Tea?"

"Sure." Daredevil responded.

"I'll take one as well," Hawkeye also said.

"A tea here," came a voice from the living room. "I'm also want to try to wake your friend up. How would I do that?"

Clint piped up. "I'll do it." He walked over to Steve. He gently shook Steve's shoulder. "Steve, wake up. We need you up Steve. Steven! Steve!" Clint gradually got louder, and the shoulder shaking more violent. Clint then had an idea. "Can I get a glass of cold water?"

Linda got a glass. "Ok everyone, stand back." Clint threw the glass of water over Steve's face. He woke up violently with a shudder, and was just about to smash Clint when he looked around, and stopped.

"Where am I?" Cap slowly lowered his fist.

"You're safe, you're in one of Daredevil's friend's houses. We carried you over after you got concussed."

"Ah. And who are the two fine ladies here?"

Claire stepped forward. "My name is Claire. I'm a surgeon. My roommate, Linda, is a nurse."

Steve moved to stand up, but Claire quickly walked over and shushed him down. "Steve, you have a concussion. You are not getting up from this couch until I know you have somewhere to go. I, or possibly Double D, will fight you." Steve laughed.

"As if either of you can take me," Steve countered.

"Considering I dragged your ass here, and you have a concussion, I think I can take you," Daredevil smirked.

"Language!" Steve paused for a bit "I'm so...tired."

"That's why we gotta stay here, and you have to stay awake!" Hawkeye interjected.

"Can I get Tony to pick me up?" Steve asked.

Claire sighed. "Look, I would prefer to not have a bunch of superheroes knocking on my door. I know Linda dosen't care, but we already have Double D and Luke Cage coming through here, and now a few of the Goddamn Avengers have shown up-"

"I typically get treated at Stark Tower-

"And I would like some privacy, please and thank you. So no official Avengers, please."

Steve snapped his fingers. "Sam? Would he be fine?"

"Who's he?"

"Falcon?"

"Fine."

"Ok. Can I borrow someone's phone? I need to make a phone call."

--

About fifteen minutes later Daredevil started helping Claire and Linda clean up. Thirty seconds later there was a knock at the door. Linda opened it.

"Hello! You must be Sam! I'm Linda. Your friend is back here. She started guiding him to the couch. Hes gonna need help walking for a bit, but should be fine. Talk to Double D if you need help. He will be able to contact us if needed."

"Steve, ya ready to walk?" Steve grunted back.

"Ok. Hawkeye and Sam are going to help you, ok?" Steve nodded, then grimaced.

Clint and Sam took an arm each, and lifted him to his feet. "Thank you so much. We wont bother you again," Clint said.

"It was no trouble," Linda replied.

"Daredevil, ya coming with?" Sam asked.

"No. I'd prefer to stay off Tony's radar."

"Understandably. Have a good day!"

Sam, Clint, and Steve shuffled out. They loaded up, and Sam started driving.

"That Daredevil is a weird one," Steve proclaimed.

"Yeah. I think he's a religious nut. He had me go for his phone when he was carrying you, and I think I felt a rosary in the same pocket. Also, his phone was kinda broken" Clint chimed.

"Wait... what?"

"No way. The Catholic church tends to frown on pretending to be the devil."

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I felt a crucifix and everything."

"Huh. If he is Catholic, I wonder what kind of priest he has, considering he seems to think that dressing up like the devil is ok, morally speaking." Steve continued to ponder this. Daredevil looked familiar, but he couldn't tell if he had actually seen Daredevil as a civilian, or if it was based on those YouTube videos.

But it's not like Steve had gotten a good look at Daredevil's face. Still...Catholic?

Steve wondered if he could invite Daredevil to Mass. Daredevil couldn't be practicing, as no priest would condone that costume. And what was with the phone?

Steve pondered it, as he started to nod off.

Thank you for reading! A few things for explanation: 1. Claire Temple in the TV show is a mashup of Claire Temple, doctor and love interest to Luke Cage, and Linda Carter, nurse and aid to various superheroes. I figured having the comics version, where they are two separate people, made more sense, as a. If someone got stabbed, a surgeon would be able to treat it. A nurse wouldn't. And b. Having two people on call would be easier on them than one person. (I made Claire specifically a surgeon, as far as I'm aware that isnt canon). 2. The broken phone thing. Since Matt is blind, he has accessibility features on his phone. He also doesn't need the screen to be on, so he turned it off in his settings. This saves his battery, but makes it inoperable for Clint. Tommy Edison has a video on how he uses a touch screen phone, and Matt has the same features enabled (Matt likes having his phone like this also because sighted people struggle to use it. Foggy can, but that's pretty much the only sighted person Matt has instructed on how to use his phone.) There will be a part 3, and Steve will eventually figure it out.

[avengeultrons]

Title: A Golden Girl (Stark! Reader x Peter Parker)

Summray: The reader and peter are forced to join in on a highly dangerous mission immediately following the homecoming dance, and their first date? No, they were just best friends. Tony Stark said that line all the time. 

Word Count: 1731

A/N: I love this, very much. I have been working on it ALL WEEK for you guys, trying to make it as good as it can be. And then I had a freakout with all of the D23 news BUT IT’S FINE I AM FINE. Okay...enjoy!

--

“Thank God you kids are back. We need to go,” Natasha interrupted the laughing and talking as you and Peter stepped out of the elevator, coming home from the school dance. It was hard enough for your father to send you off with a boy to your first school dance, but to have Natasha pull you away as soon as you arrived home was going a bit over the edge of helicopter parenting, “No time to change, Y/N. We’ve got a mission to go to.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking over at your best friend wearily. Peter’s face lit up at the mention of a mission, “Wait, what?” the two of you followed Natasha as she practically ran off to the jet, “No time to change? I'm in heels!”

“Grab some shoes by the door,” she said, scanning your dress carefully. It was too long to wear on a mission, surely she'd let you change, “Well, here. We’ll just modify your outfit,” Natasha swiftly ripped the bottom edge of your dress up past your knee to give you room to move.

You gaped at her, your mouth hanging open, “Dad is going to be so mad!” you called after her, while Peter stifled his laughter next to you, “What are you laughing at? We’ve got a mission to go to,” His cheeks turned pink as you smiled at him, pushing him forward to the jet.

“Is this the right place?” there you all were, staring up at an abandoned warehouse. The cold night air sent a shiver down your spine, even though Natasha found a fleece zip up stuffed into the jet that you could throw over your thin dress. The outfit you were wearing was not made for any missions; your homecoming dress was now paired with a pair of high tops that you were positive were Peter’s.

Natasha put her hands on her hips and stared up at the building, the sound of glass breaking and metal on metal screeching causing the both of you to cringe, “I’d say so,” she said, taking off with Clint and Steve by her side.

“Stick with Peter, Y/N!” Tony yelled after you as you took off. It was hard for your dad to let you come on these missions, he had to keep you as safe as possible.

That's what your dad hoped, at least. Running through the alley next to the warehouse with a known superhero wasn't exactly the the best way to keep a target off of your back. This was proven true when not one but two HYDRA agents blocked your path, “What the hell is this?” you sighed, watching as Peter shrugged next to you and shot a web to the brick wall to swing from.

“What the hell are you wearing?” one of them laughed as you ran up to them, trying hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Luckily, both you and Peter worked well together. You were a dream team of young teenagers dragged to a mission right after homecoming. Peter was shooting webs to tether the agents to the walls after you were able to knock them out in all your sequin glory, “Well, that wasn't too hard I guess,” you smiled up at Peter as he perched himself on the fire escape, trying to catch your breath after combat.

“How's that outfit working for you?” he pulled his mask up enough for you to see his small smirk. It was hard not to stare at him in that moment, smiling down at you as both your best friend but also so much more.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands on your hips as you stared up at him, trying to keep the smile off of your face. You stepped into a puddle and hopped, jumping until the water licked the edge of your sneakers,“I’m pretty sure these are your shoes, so it's working great!” he gulped and smiled nervously, a small smile that sent butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for coming to the dance with me tonight,” he hopped down gracefully and walked alongside you, pulling his mask down over his head once again.

A small smile lit up your face as you glanced over at him, checking to make sure the coast was clear before pushing open the back door of the warehouse, “Look out!” The coast obviously wasn't clear. That was proven true when a giant pair of sharp metal wings tore overhead, crashing through the brick overhead. Peter grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to the ground, both of you covering your heads as best as you could.

“Help! Somebody help, I think Y/N is hurt!” Peter’s voice sounded like he was shouting through a broken megaphone into the void, the silence that threatened to swallow you. A ringing filled your ears as you tried to focus on breathing. Your head felt as if it had been filled with concrete, it was heavy and painful, full of rock hard cement that weighed you down. You could feel something dripping from your temple, assuming it was blood.

The two of you were trapped under rubble but you couldn't move, you couldn't help Peter in the attempt to break your way out. Tears spilled from your eyes, “I-I’m sorry. I can’t…” Peter shushed you as you tried to wiggle your fingers and push some of the smaller pieces of debris off of the two of you.

“We’re going to get you two out, just hold on!” you could hear your dad’s voice from far away, muffled by the loud ringing starting to take over your ears. Peter took your hand and squeezed it tightly before your vision was taken over by multi colored stars.

You had been in and out of consciousness for weeks. Each waking moment was full of checking vital signs, visits from your dad and the team, flowers building up on the counters next to you. This time, you were just stirring awake when you heard the sound of footsteps pacing around your door, “You should really get some rest, Peter. It seems like you've been here more than you've been home,” Natasha’s voice made you open your eyes instantly, “She’ll be here when you get back,” they were talking about you, which made a small smile form on your face, causing you to wince. Your face felt stiff and painful, like you hadn't shown any emotion in years.

“Y/N’s awake,” he said swiftly, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the cold tile floor of the hospital room as Peter ran to your side. He collapsed in the chair next to you, a wide smile on his face, “Hi.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and was at your side to fluff the pillows behind you and raise you to a more comfortable sitting position, “I’ll notify the doctor and tell your dad you're awake. I'm glad you're okay,” she said with a smile, kissing the top of your head before prancing out of the room.

“How are you?” your voice was dry and stretched thin as you spoke, scooting over to make room for him on the bed. He gaped at you but cautiously joined, making himself comfortable on the other half of the tiny bed.

He looked over at you and the millions of machines hooked up to your arms and sighed a shaky sigh, “How am I? You're the one in a hospital bed,” he said with a frown, “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

“It's not your fault, Peter. That's absurd,” you rolled your eyes at him, laughing as if he was making a joke. One look at his face proved that he wasn't, “Peter! You're being crazy.”

He bit his lip and looked over at his tattered backpack lying in a heap on the floor nervously, “Since all this happened, Y/N, I have to tell you that I like...I would like to let you know that I brought all of your homework. We can start whenever you'd like,” he said with a weak smile, “I brought a bunch of math worksheets to do, I know you love it.”  

“What? Why are you changing the subject?” you laughed lightly at him, your cheeks turning pink. Sure, you could go for some simple equations right now. There was nothing better to you than the satisfaction of solving a problem.

You watched Peter sigh, his own cheeks burning red as you stared at him intently, “I’m not, I like you, I'm not changing the subject,” he shrugged as he talked quickly, glancing over at you in hopes that maybe you didn't hear. You kept your eyes on the thick blanket from home tossed over your bed and took a deep breath, trying to keep from totally freaking out.

“Well, thank God my date to the dance likes me back,” you said with a small smile. Peter let out a breath of relief, an airy smile lighting up his face.

He threw an arm over your shoulder as you kissed his cheek and lay your head on his. Peter smiled nervously, a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around his stomach as he stared up at the television that was playing reruns of an old tv show, “Do they only play The Golden Girls in here?”

“Y/N, you're awake! Peter’s been here on and off but I think Natasha told him to go home,” Tony led the team in, their arms overflowing with stuffed animals, flowers, and ‘Get Well Soon’ cards. His eyes widened as the two of you jumped as far away from each other as you could in the tiny hospital bed, “Oh, he’s here. Well, that's...okay then. If I pretend I don't see it, it’s not really there, right?”

Tony collapsed into the chair opposite you, trying to get the image of you cuddling up next to a boy out of his head, “Is the doctor on their way?”

“They should be here soon. Don't worry, Y/N’s doing great,” the nurse smiled over at your father, his face as white as the sheets on your hospital bed.

He shook his head and gulped, placing a giant frog plush with a heart in its hands on your lap, “I mean for me, I think I might pass out.”

[scientifically-strange]

Opportunity

Submitted by: God of the Challenge on fanfiction.net

------

Danny grinned when he came out of the portal, thankful that the council meeting had gone well, and that Walker finally agreed to implement some laws Danny had suggested. While he was the king, and it was a monarchy, he wanted everyone's views on what could be done better as long as it was within a reasonable standard. He had been officially made King a few months prior, right after his eighteenth birthday. He never really thought he was good with his high school government classes, but with Clockwork and Frostbite's help, he had quickly grown accustomed to the politics of the Zone.

He yawned and changed into his human form, not noticing the way his mother's eyes widened as she came downstairs. Not noticing the way she pulled her gun on him with no hesitation. Crying out in pain as he was shot in the stomach by a well placed ectoblast from her gun. He fell to the ground, trying to ignore the large red stain growing on his hoodie. Maddie ran to him, and a wave of relief washed over him before he processed what had actually happened.

That feeling quickly vanished, however, when his mom pressed her heel into his chest, putting most of her weight onto it, making him groan. She placed her gun against his forehead, snarling at him. The it finally hit him.

His mother was the one that shot him.

His mother was going to kill him.

-------

Danny convulsed in pain as electricity ran through his body. He was unable to phase out of the restraints due to them being ghost proof. He had no idea how long he had been their prisoner, but every day he was growing thinner. He could feel his strength leaving him as they conducted their experiments. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks at most, but when they whispered to each other, it sent a chill down his spine, and he struggled more.

"It's time, sweetie," Maddie said, holding up a gleaming scalpel.

Jack grinned as he pulled on a new pair of gloves and grabbed a pair of shears, cutting off Danny's shirt with ease.

"He's all yours, sweet cheeks," Jack said giddily as he watched his son squirm on the table. Maddie nodded and stabbed through his skin with no mercy, plunging the tool next to his right collarbone.

He couldn't help it.

He screamed.

--------

When he woke up he knew he was still in the basement. However, the lights were off, the portal was closed, and his cuffs weren't glowing their usual green anymore. He phased himself out of the restraints and looked around. His parents-no-Jack and Maddie-were lying on the ground, unconscious. Jack had a bleeding head, and Maddie's leg was sticking out at an unnatural angle. He hadn't meant for his ghostly wail to come out, but he couldn't have just ;et them open him up like a frog either.

He looked down at his chest, noticing the scalpel still inside of him. She had managed to make a three inch cut, deep enough to go to his organs, and now it wouldn't stop bleeding. He pulled it out and pressed some gauze to it before heading upstairs. He didn't look back at his parents, or the carnage he cause the basement.

Danny didn't really know where he was going. He just picked a direction and hauled ass. After a whole day he thought maybe he was far enough to rest, but when he looked back and saw the Fenton Assault Vehicle, he was too afraid to stop.

He flew for three days straight, surprised that his beaten body was able to make the trip. They hadn't stopped either, but he couldn't have been more thankful to find a big city where there was traffic and streets to hide him from his parents. Where was he, anyway?

He flew a little higher so he could be above the buildings, and almost slapped himself in the forehead. It was so painfully obvious that he was in New York, what with the Avenger's tower and Empire State Building in view. He couldn't help the grin that grew on his face as he took in the sight.

But he marveled at it for too long.

A searing pain grew on his back as he was blasted to the ground, creating a sort of crater, causing panic. He groaned, trying to lift himself out of it before his parents caught up. He had to get going, he had to leave. He couldn't be caught again.

His shirt had been ripped to shreds by Jack and Maddie, and now it was just a glorified rag around his shoulders. He needed a better superhero getup anyhow, he supposed. He tore the remains of it off, as he finally got his feet under him. But before he could fly away, two people flew down next to the crater. One was Iron Man, who he recognized from TV, but the other woman he didn't know. She had short black hair, cut into some sort of bob thing, and steely eyes. Her wings fluttered a little behind her.

"Who are you, kid?" Iron Man asked, aiming his repulsors at him. The woman aimed her own small blaster at him.

"Listen, I can't stay here, I have to go," Danny said, holding up his hands in a type of surrendering way. he swallowed the lump in his throat, realizing that he was shirtless and they could probably see how marred his skin was from ghost fighting and the experiments. "They're after me," he tried again.

"Who?" Iron Man asked. But before Danny could answer, he was on the ground again, caught up in a ghost net. Jack was on him in seconds, pressing the barrel of a gun against his head.

"Nice try, ghost scum!" He yelled as he picked Danny up by the net. Danny looked to Iron Man, his eyes pleading as he struggled against Jack.

Suddenly he was free again, and when he looked up he saw a small trail of smoke rising from the woman's blaster. His father struggled to get up. Danny scooted away towards the heroes of New York, stopping only when Iron Man flew in between Jack and Danny.

"You do anything bad, kid?" He asked.

"You mean other than existing? No," he replied.

"In that case," the billionaire turned to Jack and Maddie, who had begun helping him up, "you guys better leave." He aimed his hand at the ghost hunters, a feeling of satisfaction going through him when he heard the whine of power in his palm.

"He's a monster!" Maddie cried, glaring daggers at him, then at Danny.

"Really?" The woman spoke for the first time. "Because the only monsters I see here are you two."

Danny had been so distracted by what was going on in front of him that he didn't realize that someone had come up behind him. Not until they were grabbing at the net. Danny immediately started struggling, only to be turned around and be face to face with Captain fucking America. He relaxed at his kind smile as he cut the net off of him. But that smile turned to a frown when he saw the wound on his chest from the scalpel. He turned to the couple, who were now standing, facing Iron man with a hard look in their eyes.

"He's a ghost," Jack spat. "And ghosts are evil! Every single one!"

"Well, I say you're not allowed to lay another hand on him," Cap said as he strode over, shield in hand. "He's under our protection now."

"What he's saying," Iron Man explained, "Is that if you touch him, you're going to have a whole league of pissed off superheroes on your ass. Now, do you really want that?"

They thought for a moment longer before Jack spat at his feet.

"Come on, Mads. Another day."

Maddie followed reluctantly, and they all watched as they climbed into the tricked out RV and drove away.

"Thanks," Danny said, not really knowing what else to say. Cap held out a hand and helped him to his feet, but Danny had been flying for three days straight without a break and it was really catching up to him. As soon as he was standing, he collapsed, right into Captain America's arms, not caring if the transformation rings went over his body or not.

--------

When Danny woke up again, he was in an unfamiliar room, but he couldn't find himself to care. The bed underneath him and the covers on top of him felt to good.

When he finally decided to stand up a few hours later, he noticed that every single bone in his body ached. His joints all popped like he was Tucker after sitting in his gaming chair for too long. He vaguely noticed that he was wearing new clothes, but couldn't bring it in himself to care who had changed them. Obviously someone that was concerned for his well being. How had he gotten here anyway? He had been running away when-oh. That's right. He was with the Avengers. If he wasn't so tired he'd probably be jumping for joy. Instead he followed the directions a creepy, disembodied voice gave him.

He was led to a living room, where there were several adults just milling about. There was the woman he saw from earlier talking with a red headed woman who looked like she could kill him forty different ways just using a paper clip. On the couch there was a blonde guy drinking straight from the pot watching the news with another blonde guy who kind of reminded Danny of Fabio.

"Glad to see you're awake."

Danny turned to see Captain America, unmasked and with a smile. Geez, how many hot blonde guys live here? Danny briefly thought.

"Glad to see I'm in good company," Danny replied, giving a smile of his own. Steve noticed how it didn't quite reach his eyes.

In the corner of his eye he saw the woman and red head walking towards him and Captain fucking America.

"This is Jan and Natasha," Steve introduced. "Over there is Clint and Thor. Jan was one of the ones that helped out a couple days ago."

"Wait, what?" Danny's eyes went wide. "How long have I been out?"

"Three days," Natasha answered easily, giving him a once over. "Looks like you really needed it."

"Oh. Well, uh, thanks," he said lamely. "For the help, I mean."

"Hey, kid," the coffee addicted hero called from the couch, tapping his ear a couple of times and turning a knob. "Are you gonna eat something or wake up Rhodes two floors up with your stomach?"

"He's got a point," Steve said. "When was the last time you had a good meal?"

"Also, can we get your name?"

"Danny, and...I don't know. What's the date?" Danny's voice was light hearted but he knew it didn't work when he saw the worry in Steve's eyes. Danny smiled at him a bit sheepishly.

"How does pizza sound?" Natasha asked, already dialing the number on her phone.

"Like heaven," Danny grinned.

"Hey, Danny," Steve pulled him aside as Natasha ordered pizza. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"No...Not anymore. Those people that were chasing me were my parents," Danny's voice was quiet, melancholy.

"Then how would you like to stay here?" Jan asked. "maybe pull some pranks on Scott."

Danny didn't know who Scott was, but the idea of pranking anybody sounded fulfilling. he smiled again.

"I'm in."

-------

Hey, guys, I’m back! I very do much apologize for the hiatus, my Nanna had a stroke and she got out of the hospital a few weeks ago and needed me to stay with her just in case things went south. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy! And if you want to submit anything my ask is always open!

[andtheniwrotemarvel]

Ferula: Prologue

I figured it was about time I shared my Avengers/Harry Potter crossover universe with you.

"How did you end up sitting alone?" the towhead boy asked the redhead. He didn't mean to make it sound as rude as it did, but as soon as the words left his lips, he realized how mean he sounded. However, he didn't bother to apologize, as he had heard nothing good about this girl or her family.

"I could ask the same to you," she fired back, not even trying to mask the disdain in her voice. She hadn't heard anything but curses to this boy's family's name.

"I asked first."

"And I asked second."

"You should answer the question that I asked first."

"I think that you should answer first because I asked the most recently."

"Ladies first."

"I'm not a lady, yet. I'm still a girl."

The two shot retort after retort at the other until they came to a silent standstill. A staring contest ensued, the competitors determined to glare each other into submission. Both jumped and blinked when a kind voice asked, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

The blonde boy smiled at the woman pushing the candy cart and reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a few galleons. "My mum does always say that chocolate makes everything better," he replied.

The redhead girl's face turned a shade that matched her hair as she checked her multiple pockets for the small black coin purse that she knew she had somewhere. She didn't want to have to go digging around in her luggage, but it looked like she would have to. Her pockets were empty.

The boy noticed her predicament, took a deep breath, then asked, "What candy do you want?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," the girl claimed.

"Nonsense. You can just pay me back later," he insisted.

She eyed him warily, not sure if his intentions were true. He raised his eyebrows impatiently. "A couple of chocolate frogs and a pumpkin pasty, then," she grumbled.

"Four chocolate frogs, a package of Every-Flavor Beans, and a pumpkin pasty," he placed his order.

The woman smiled and asked for the money due. The boy placed the coins in her hand and picked out the candy that he paid for. He sat down with a little "humph". "Let's start over," he said, handing the girl her two chocolate frogs and pasty. "I'm Clint. Clint Barton." He offered the girl his hand, which she took after looking around for anyone watching.

"I'm Natasha Romanoff. Don't call me Nat," she warned. The two shared a stiff handshake.

"Can I call you Tasha, then?" he asked.

"No."

"Tash?"

"Stop."

"Tashy?"

"Just Natasha," she said, her green eyes boring into his blue ones.

"Alright, 'just Natasha.' You can call me whatever you want. There's not a lot you can actually do with my name, so I'd like to see what you can do," he challenged. She opened her mouth to give him a nickname, but before she could actually say anything, he interjected, "No cursing."

Her mouth closed and she scowled at him. "Well there goes everything that I had."

"No cursing in the compartment, Tash," he chided playfully, wagging a finger back and forth.

"I'll just have to wait until the Slytherins and the Gryffindors have a class together, then," she said, not bothering to correct his use of the nickname.

"No cursing in the classroom, either," he chuckled. Then he caught what she was perhaps unintentionally implying. "Wait, are you saying that you, a high and mighty Romanoff, would sit with a lowly Barton such as myself?"

"I obviously don't have anyone else to sit with, do I?" she pointed out, gesturing to the nearly empty compartment. She let go of her learned physical posture, slouching in embarrassment. "Believe it or not, cursing is why I left the compartment that all of my supposed-to-be friends were sitting in."

Clint dropped his comical outlook and became more serious. "So, even if you are sorted into Slytherin--"

"What do you mean 'if?' It's not even a question," Natasha interrupted, sitting up straight once again.

"Let me finish," he said. "Even if you are sorted into Slytherin, you're not going to be happy there. If the people that you grew up with aren't respecting you now, what are the chances that they will then?"

"Low," she admitted. "At least I'll still have the respect of my family, though. That's what matters."

"If they don't respect you after something as silly as not getting into the same house as them, there's something wrong--not with you, with them."

This boy that should have been her mortal enemy was turning out to be one of the most sincere people that she'd ever met in her life. It appeared that he actually cared for her well-being, which was more than most of her childhood friends could say. To think that two minutes ago, they had been bickering relentlessly.

"You're sure that you're going to be sorted into Gryffindor, aren't you?" Natasha asked, still trying to defend her family.

"Of course."

"How can you be sure?"

"My family has been--oh, I see what you're doing," Clint said, narrowing his eyes. "It's different with my family, though. I know that they'd still support me if I was something else."

"Would they?"

"I just said that they would."

"Even if you're a Slytherin?"

Clint took a small breath. "I guess I see what you mean," he admitted. He opened one of his chocolate frogs, and his face split into a wide grin as he pulled out the card. "Albaric Grunnion," he announced. "I've been looking everywhere for this one."

"What did he do?" Natasha asked curiously.

"He invented the dungbomb," Clint answered, grinning brightly.

"I've only known you for two minutes, and I'm not surprised that that's why you wanted that card."

"Well, you collect them, don't you? What's your favorite card?"

"I don't have one," she shrugged. "I don't collect them, either. You can have mine, if you want."

Clint fought his first instinct to accept immediately, slowly shaking his head. "Do you mind me asking why you don't collect them?" he inquired. "I thought that everyone did."

"My parents said that it was a waste of time and money, so they made me throw them away when I found them."

Clint made a face that appeared as though he had witnessed someone kick a puppy. "Brutal!" he cried out. "Guess you'll just have to start your collection here, then." He paused, deciding whether or not to say something. "You can have both of my cards," he offered hesitantly.

Natasha's eyes snapped up to meet his. Once again, this boy that, by all accounts, should have hated her was turning out to be so much more kind to her than even her own family had been. He couldn't really be serious; this must have been a cruel prank. "You just said that you'd been looking everywhere for..." she struggled to recall the name of the man on the card that Clint had wanted.

"Albaric Grunnion?" he supplied.

"Yes, him. You said that you'd been looking for him for ages," she countered. "You wouldn't really be willing to give him up just like that."

"I'm sure I'll be able to find him again," he justified. "I'm giving him up for a good cause, though--"

"Oh, what? To help the less fortunate?" she assumed, suddenly angry.

Clint blinked in surprise. "No, that's not what I was going to say at all," he said.

"Oh," she muttered sheepishly. "What were you going to say?"

"I'm giving him to the cause of a new friendship," he stated, a smile forming on his face. "Whether you accept right away or not."

Natasha's mouth would have fallen open if she hadn't had herself trained so well. Her initial shock did display itself on her face, however, bringing Clint to giggle.

"I'll take that as a yes," he grinned. He pressed the card into her hand, and she looked down at the first token of friendship that she had ever received.

She looked up at him with her own smile growing on her lips. "Thank you," she said.

As Clint walked over to the three-legged stool to be sorted, he flashed a bright smile at his brother, Barney, who was seated at the Gryffindor table. The older boy smiled back, and began making room amongst his friends for Clint, who was sure to be joining them soon.

The hat sunk over his head, almost completely covering it. He didn't know exactly what to expect, but it wasn't a voice in his head that didn't match his own.

The boy visibly jumped and let out a loud cry of alarm as the hat began to speak in his mind. "What do we have here?" it asked. "A Barton? I'll bet that you want to be just like your brother."

"What's not to look up to? He's awesome."

"It has been seven years since I've sat on his head, but be aware that your brother is farther from perfect than you would care to know," the hat warned.

"Oh, I know that he's not perfect. I could tell you stories that prove that all day, but we don't have time. I just think he's cool because he knows that he's not perfect, too, and he doesn't try to be," the boy acknowledged.

"The innocence of a young mind is refreshing," the hat sighed. "I think I've made my decision, now. You belong in..." The rip at the hat's brim opened, and it bellowed, "RAVENCLAW!"

The Sorting Hat was snatched off of Clint's head, who was left sitting on the stool in shock. Ravenclaw? That couldn't have been right, there was some sort of mistake.

"Move along, Barton," Professor McGonagall chided the boy.

He moved numbly towards the Ravenclaw table, trying to catch his brother's eye. Barney wouldn't turn his cold glare away from his empty gold plate that rested on the Gryffindor table. Clint only hoped that his parents wouldn't react the same way.

The boy sat down at the very end of the table next to a prefect that smiled at him. "We're better than Gryffindor, you'll see," the teenage boy whispered to him.

Clint watched Natasha wait for her turn to be sorted. He had been one of the first, and she would be one of the last. He hoped that, for the sake of more opportunity to spend time with her, she would be in Ravenclaw with him. He didn't want to be alone, and he didn't want her to be, either.

The alphabet cycled to the R's at last, and it was time for Natasha to be sorted. The hat slipped almost entirely over her head as well, and she was startled almost as much as Clint when the hat spoke to her, but not to the point of physical reaction.

"You're very different from the rest of your family," it commented almost instantly. "You don't want power."

"Power isn't all it's cracked up to be. The more power you have, the more people that hate you. You have to be careful," she replied.

"You crave another kind of power. One that will get you much farther than those you've grown up with. And for that, I think you belong in RAVENCLAW!"

It was strange; Natasha felt relieved and worried at the same time. She was so glad that she had the opportunity to make real friends that would actually enjoy her company, unlike the other children her age that she'd grown up with. However, she wasn't anxious to see her parents' reaction. She knew that they wouldn't exactly be thrilled, but they loved her enough to accept it after it settled in. That's what she hoped, at least.

Natasha sat down next to Clint in the spot that the prefect had cleared for her. She didn't know what she wanted to say, but she had to say something.

Luckily, Clint said it for her. "Guess we won't have to wait until Gryffindors and Slytherins have a class together, now will we?"

"I can curse at you whenever I feel like it, now."

"Nope. No cursing in the common room, either."

"Actually," the prefect next to them interjected, "we view cursing as a form of creative expression."

"No cursing in front of Clint," the new Ravenclaw boy amended. "It has the alliteration and intended effect."

"Fantastic," Natasha commended him sarcastically.

[quietlyimplode]

Whumptober2020 - Day 15 - Into the Unknown.

Day 1 - Waking Up Restrained // Day 2 - Kidnapped // Day 3 - Manhandled // Day 4 - Caged// Day 5 - Rescue // Day 6 - No More // Day 7 - Support // Day 8 - Isolation // Day 9 - Take Me Instead // Day 10 - Blood Loss/Trail of Blood // Day 11 - Psych 101 // Day 12 - Broken Down // Day 13 - Oxygen Mask // Day 14 - Alternative Prompt - Comfort // Day 15 - Into The Unknown

Natasha’s POV on therapy, and her first therapy session.

Therapy not a foreign concept, having received it before in the early stages of her journey into Shield but the unknowns of voluntarily going, is making her wary. It’s weaknesses that she can’t abide by.

If her handlers saw her now, she’s be six feet under or in prisoned for re-education; mind wiped, start again. Sometimes it’s a consideration and feels almost preferable to working through what she has to.

——-

Clint convinces her to go. After finding her passed out in a bolt hole in Alphabet city, bleeding all over her sheets and having visions of her team mates telling her, her worst fears, her worst imaginations, he’s not wrong in saying that something has to give. Cognitively, she knows this.

Therapy not a foreign concept, having received it before in the early stages of her journey into Shield but the unknowns of voluntarily going, is making her wary. It’s weaknesses that she can’t abide by.

If her handlers saw her now, she’s be six feet under or in prisoned for re-education; mind wiped, start again. Sometimes it’s a consideration and feels almost preferable to working through what she has to.

The whole day she’s on edge. Avoiding Clint. Screw him. This is his fault.

She can work through her own damn triggers.

Clint’s found his old therapist, Tony’s hired her.

She’s coming to the tower at 4.

Natasha spends the whole morning in the gym, ribs be damned, bruising and cuts make the session more painful but almost cathartic to work on. She can only hide in here so long.

She goes to her room and tries to read.

Heads to the kitchen. Sees Steve talking with Clint. Leaves.

Heads back to the gym. Maybe a run will help.

Clint and Steve find her in the Gym, panting her way through her third mile. Clint has the concerned look on his face, one of ‘what happened’ and ‘how can I help?’. She gets off the treadmill, pushes past both of them and leaves. Goes back to her room and showers.

Restlessly, she tries to read again. Stuffs around on her phone, looks at the time. Tony did say four right?

She heads down to check with him, the only one she can stand being around, the only one who’s not hovering, walking on eggshells and being a general pain in the ass.

She opts for a different tact when she gets there.

“How does this work?”

Tony looks up, surprised.

“What do you mean?” Natasha takes a deep breath. She hates this so much.

“I mean how does this work? I need…” she takes a pause and thinks what she’s actually asking; “a therapist and you just happen to get one that Clint knows and trusts, that will come to the tower? What did you do?”

Tony side eyes her, “I made some calls, paid some salaries. It’ll be fine.” He smiles, Natasha stops listening, waits til he finishes talking, rolls her eyes and stalks out. Stays just outside the room remembers why she went to Tony in the first place, walks back in again and waits til he turns around.

“God you’re like a ninja.”

“You just don’t pay attention.” She snaps.

“My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.

She pauses.

“When does she get here?”

“I don’t know, Nat, soon? I said 4, so I assume she’ll be here at 4.” She glances at the clock 3.50. Feels her breathing quicken, chest heavy. Nerves are now at an all time high. Leaving quickly she heads for the only space with air, the roof.

Clint’s already up there, she turns to leave but he spots her, “Nat, wait.” He calls.

She’s having difficulty getting her breath under control, feels more of a heaving, she needs to sit, buckles first.

Clint's running over and she holds up a hand. A warning, don’t talk; don’t touch.

She gets back to her feet. Looks at him in the eyes, the fucking eyes of worry. Makes a decision then and there.

“I’m not going.” She says.

“Tasha..”

“No. You don’t get to decide this for me. I went with it, saw some merit in it; but you know as well as I do; this is not how we work on things. This is not how we work through things. Send me on another mission, get back on the horse, who cares? So I have another trigger - who on this team doesn’t? Bruce is triggered by being fucking angry, and he doesn’t have to go? Why should I?”

He lets her finish her tirade.

“You promised.” He says in Russian for emphasis.

“I’m not going.” She replies in kind.

Staring at each other they’re interrupted by Tony swaggering towards them.

“Nat?” He calls out.

“She’s here.” Clint says.

Natasha is pissed. Traitor.

“I’m not going.” She informs Tony.

“Nat,” Clint tries.

Tony doesn’t even pause before heading into a lecture, it makes Natasha think that he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Natasha, the Doctor is waiting, you agreed. Give it ten minutes - five even, if you don’t like what she’s got to say you can leave.”

Clint's nodding.

Natasha scowls. Pissed that this all feels so targeted.

“Come on. If you don’t go, you have to hang out with me and Clint. And you know the whole time, we’re all going to be thinking that you should have just ripped the bandaid off and gone. Plus, if not today; then I’ll ask her to come back tomorrow; or the next day; or the one after. You get me? We aren’t letting this go. You need someone, that’s not; well, us.”

Well fuck.

She doesn’t want to be around them. She doesn’t want to be around anybody now. She feels like she’s them down already and feels betrayed. They’re supposed to have her back.

And then.

What if it doesn’t work, and she’s beyond saving? What if she lets them down?

She watches as Clint walks towards the door, holds it open.

“Come on.” He says, “put on an alarm and suck it up.”

She shoots Clint a look that she hopes conveys, fuck you and the high horse you rolled in on, and rolls her eyes. Follows Clint through the door. Tony is behind them. She counts her steps trying to alleviate panic.

They all but frog-march her to the office. Stand next to her.

All the feelings in the world are telling her to run. Leave. Never come back. Screw them; she doesn’t need them.

But.

She promised.

Taking the step inside she’s met with the kindly looking therapist that Clint told her about.

“Hello,” the woman says.

“Hello,” says Natasha.

The woman introduces herself, explains a bit on how she works. Natasha meets her with silence.

She is standing in front of the door, shakes her head when the therapist offers her a seat.

“So, do you have any questions?”

Can I leave? She thinks.

“What happens now.. Today?” She clarifies.

“Usually I’d ask why you’re here but your bandages and bruises tell me stories I feel you’re not ready to tell yet. So maybe we’ll start with strategies.” She pauses. Thinks.

“What do you know of grounding?”

“Some.” They’ve used it before, techniques that help pull you from flashbacks. Works but often hit and miss.

“Grounding helps us when we are experiencing big emotions, when reality doesn’t feel real or you just can’t get that breath under control. It helps us refocus on what’s happening in the present moment. You can use grounding techniques to help create space from distressing feelings in nearly any situation.” She pauses. “We’re going to be more targeted in our use of these. I get the feeling that you’re a woman of few words. How do you feel about just answering me with single words?”

Natasha feels positive about it.

Nods.

The therapist continues. “Ok, great. If you were to use a technique would it be mental, physical or soothing? Before you answer, a mental technique might be doubling numbers or thinking in categories, a physical technique might be putting your hands in water or a smell or touching something nearby; lastly the soothing techniques are those like teaching yourself to use words of affirmation or listing your favourite things or planning an activity.”

Natasha thinks.

Definitely not the last one. Likes the idea of mental games but physical is the one she lands on. Tactile prompt is what she’s always used, it’s harder to fake and doesn’t rely on her brain to function, easier for those around her to help her tune into. Doesn’t say this out loud. Replies.

“Physical.”

The therapist smiles. “Ok, great. So I’m going to suggest some ideas; maybe tell me one that you think might work for you, or that you’d feel comfortable letting someone know what to do when a flashback comes or your body or brain doesn’t feel like your own. Is this making sense?”

Natasha nods again.

“Ok, so hands in water noticing the change in temperature and the flow, or touching or picking up something around you, using your breath - breathing deeply, holding a piece of ice, a scent - like perfume or something that’s familiar, maybe moving your body, or listening to what’s going on around you, feeling your body, and then there’s the 5/4/3/2/1 method of 5 things you see, 4 things you touch and so on.”

She pauses. Waits. Expects a response.

Natasha looks at her feet, realises she’s still standing. Wants to sit. Pulls the chair out so the back is against the wall and curls inside.

“Hearing and touch.” She says. “harder to fake.” She elaborates.

The therapist nods.

“Ok, good. Good to know. Hearing is easy but sometimes needs another to tune us into it. Is there someone that can help you with that? That you’d feel comfortable with disclosing this?”

Natasha nods. Thinks of Clint. Knows instinctively that all she’s learnt from him, he’s learnt from this woman.

“Ok, if they’re not around then I want you try and acknowledge when you’re on the cusp of panic - put on music you know, like, know the words or tune to. Can you think of anything that would fit this?”

Natasha nods again.

“Ok; touch. Do you have any issue with people touching you, when you’re in panicked states?” Feels personal. But not wrong. Natasha looks up, sharply. Makes eye contact.

“Then this is going to be a bit different, prompt your body to tune into whatever it’s touching, sitting on, holding; take note of the temperature , the colour - anything you can think of. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Natasha says.

“Ok. So here, if you’re ever feeling or looking unsafe here I’m going to prompt you. Like practice, right? I might say something like the air conditioning is on or that I am talking to you. What I will also tell you is that sometimes you need to let the thoughts come.”

Pauses. Continues.

“Have you ever stopped trying to think about something and the more you try to stop it, the more the thought becomes repetitive til you can’t stop thinking about it? I’m going to remind you to let the thoughts come; but let them go too. Let it flow through you. Lastly I might tell you you’re safe. But as safety is a concept of the mind I might not always tell you that. What I’ll say now is that your words, your thoughts are safe here in the room, with me. So if you ever feel like talking through something that’s happened or going to happen or anything from the past, this is somewhere where you can do that. I’ll let you know that Mr. Stark has placed me on retainer so you call I come, easy right?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and the therapist gives her an easy smile.

“So, here’s where I tell you let’s give this a try. If it works it works, if it doesn’t that’s ok too, we just try something different. Just remember when you’re working through it, and things are ok keep working. If you feel yourself struggle - take a break. If you’re having a tough time; frustrated or overwhelmed with yourself, remove yourself from the situation. Our goal is to protect yourself and stay safe,” she smiles.

Natasha gets up.

“Natasha, would you like us to touch base daily or every second day?

Ahh the illusion of choice. The therapist is lucky that she seems competent, Natasha knows why Clint had referred her, the intelligence in her words and being able to read her is skilful.

“Second day,” she responds. What the hell, Tony’s right, what has she got to lose?

She side steps to the door, but the therapist isn’t finished yet,

“Last thing, do you have any questions?” Huh.

She doesn’t think so.. Hand on the doorknob she shakes her head.

“Ok, thanks for coming today. It’s lovely to meet you.” Natasha turns to acknowledge the woman. Gives a small smile

——-