#and it struck me that. well. i never really have a ready-made blueprint for what i want to be

[toothyblowjob]

so i recently decided that, while i am still An Entire Man, my gender is complex in a way that i feel can only really be described as genderqueer. and i really like the way i explained it to my boyfriend today--"identifying as genderqueer is my way of acknowledging that there's no blueprint for what i am. i have to carve out a space for myself, because there's not one already."

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch25: All Dressed Up And Nowhere To Go

Summary: The team work hard to put the events of Sokovia behind them, whilst Steve and Katie set a date for their wedding. But as the Avengers get to grips with their new base upstate, with Tony retired from active service, Steve finds his time stretched perilously thin between his leadership responsibilities and his soon to be wife…and tempers boil over.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

Warnings: Bad language, HARD Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

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

A/N: More super edits from @angrybirdcr​ . And this chapter was always one where I was a little bit ambivalent about the flashbacks and ending, so I kinda changed it up a bit...

Chapter 24 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

July 2015

“You’re up early.” Steve said as he dropped onto the swinging chair besides his girl. It wasn’t even 6 am yet but she was sat outside on their patio “You ok?”

“Yeah.” she smiled at him, as he pecked her cheek, looking out over the dimly lit lawn area of the Newly Opened Avengers Facility which swept down to the banks of the Hudson. The Facility had been the product of one of Tony’s crazy brain farts not long after they had come back from Sokovia and had been remodelled in record time. Whilst some areas were still undergoing renovations, over 80% of it was complete. There had also been changes to their team too. Clint had headed home, the birth of his baby son- Nathaniel Pietro- prompting him to take indefinite paternity leave, all of them fully accepting this was his way of leaving everything behind for good. Thor had left earlier that morning, promising he would return for the Wedding, whenever they finally got round to setting a date. But they still hadn’t heard a thing from Banner and the jet was proving impossible to track. On the plus side, they invited Sam and Rhodey to join the team officially and both had gleefully accepted, along with Vision and Wanda. Lawson was now their chief Technician and Evans had joined the team too, which made Katie happy as she enjoyed their company.

It was starting to grow light, the first rays of sunlight were bouncing off the water to the West. He turned to look at his girl and watched her as she surveyed the river, feet tucked underneath her on the seat.

“No regrets?” he asked, and Katie could feel him studying her face as her mind wandered back to the conversation they’d had when Tony had first mentioned moving to a new base.

Look, Cap, we’re like a trouble magnet,“ Tony explained animatedly, "Wherever the Avengers are, trouble follows.”

“So - you’re suggesting we build another building?” Steve rubbed his neck and looked up at the blueprints Tony had now blown up against the wall.

“I’m suggesting we relocate, completely, leave the Tower to Stark Industries and build our own facility and expand.” Tony said, flipping through pictures with a sweep of his finger. “We have this this old warehouse upstate, good location, middle of nowhere.”

"Less chance of civilian damage.” Steve’s hands fell to the buckle on his belt.

“Full medical wing, Living quarters, as well as a bunch of extra spare apartments, for all the strays we keep accumulating, training arena, kitchen, cafeteria- satellite links- you name it, you got it.”

"How long will it take?” Steve asked and Katie tried not to sigh at the fact that her dream of a quiet life in a nice house in Brooklyn had just blown up in front of her face.

Tony looked affronted. “I’m a billionaire cap, it’ll take however long we say.”

Steve looked at Katie who simply shrugged at him, keeping her face passive.  

“Have you two eaten?” she asked, changing the subject.

Tony shook his head as did Steve.

“I’ll fix you both something.” she turned and started moving towards the kitchen area.

“Not for me…” Tony said. “I’ve got a dinner reservation with Pepper at 8…” “Yeah, you might wanna get a move on then, seeing as its 7:30.” She shot over her shoulder as she turned and began pulling stuff out of the fridge to prepare dinner.

“What?” Tony glanced at his watch and frowned “Shit…fuck…”

“You kiss Pepper with that mouth?” Steve quipped back as Tony collected up his laptop and the blue-prints disappeared off the wall.

“FRIDAY why didn’t you remind me?” Tony groaned. “You never asked Boss…” The Irish lilt came back.

“I miss JARVIS…” Tony grumbled, the door clicking shut as he left.

Steve headed into the kitchen and stood for a moment watching his wife as she moved around, before he he headed over to her, his arms wrapping round her from behind.

“Are you okay, you know, with the idea of moving to a new facility?” Steve asked. “I know it’s not exactly the home you had in mind.”

“We’ll be together. That’s all that matters.” Katie shrugged, concentrating on her task- chopping a pepper up for the couscous salad she was making.

“I know but, I just worry sometimes. You deserve better, a quiet life.”

“Not sure we have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” Steve dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You got out of SHIELD, you could get out of this.”

“You know for a moment in Sokovia… “Katie placed her knife down and turned to face him. “I thought… well I thought we weren’t getting out of it alive. And It frightened me, I’m not gonna lie…”

She looked up at him and met his eyes. He knew the whole thing with Ultron and the final show down in Sokovia had shaken her, more than any other mission she’d been involved in. It served as a reminder exactly what is achievable with technology, how fragile humans are, how easily life and peace could be shattered. For that split second, when on that floating city she hadn’t seen a way out, she had genuinely thought their time was up. And her life with Steve cut short before it had even started.

“We stood there, on that rock and in that split second when it seemed everything was lost you know what I felt?” she looked at him and he waited for her answer “Relief. Relief that if we both went down, we did it together and I didn’t have to spend a single day without you…”

“Sweetheart…” Steve began but she carried on.

“I can’t sit by and simply wave you off on a mission wondering to myself if it’s the last time I ever see you. I hated doing that when I left SHIELD and I can’t do it anymore. You fight, I fight.” “So what if I quit?” Steve looked at her. “What if I gave you the life you deserve?” “You can’t quit, and I wouldn’t ask you to.” Katie shook her head, smiling a little. “The world needs The Avengers, and the Avengers need their Captain…” “And their Captain needs his girl.” Steve took a deep breath, his eyes flashing with something that looked to her a lot like worry. She sighed and ran her hands up his arms, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. 

“And she’s not going anywhere…” Katie she assured him gently, standing on her toes to give him a peck

She knew the Avengers depended on Steve as their leader even more so now that Tony had said he was hanging up his Iron Man suits for good, choosing to manage and see over the running of the practical side of things instead of active combat. Ultron had really hit her brother hard, but whilst his way of dealing with it was to call it quits, Steve was the opposite. He wasn’t ready to leave this behind for a quiet suburban life. And if being with him meant Katie had to stay too, then so be it.

So, regrets?

“No” she said, taking his hand in hers as she lay her head against his shoulder. “None at all.”

He smiled to himself as her hand began to play with his, the fingers of her left hand gently tracing across his knuckles, the only evidence of her brutal beating last year was the slightly bent pinkie that no matter how much physio she had, she couldn’t extend it fully.  He still got a cold shiver when he thought about how close he had come to losing her. She sighed softly, and he looked down to see she was looking at their intertwined hands and then it struck him just how much he couldn’t wait to tie himself to her for the rest of his life.

“Let’s get married.” He whispered gently into her ear.

“I thought we already were.” She chuckled.

“No, I mean let’s do it. Let’s get a date set, the sooner the better. We were supposed to set one months ago and I don’t want to wait any longer.” “Is that what you want?” She looked up at him smiling.

He nodded “More than anything, Doll.”

“Alright. Let’s do it.” He grinned before his lips met hers, the kiss gentle and soft.

“Any ideas on where?” She asked. As a matter of fact Steve did, the idea had come to him a few days ago, but he wasn’t sure if she was going to go for it.

“Well…I errr…thought, maybe, perhaps we could look at the church my mom used to take me to when I was a kid.” He ran a hand through his hair “That is, if you wanted to.” “Steve that’s a lovely idea.” She smiled and he beamed down at her

“You think?” “Yeah. And I’ve been thinking, maybe, we could have the reception here, in the grounds.” she said, looking at him.

“Here?” Steve frowned, he’d assumed she’d want some kind of hotel booking downtown. But as she spoke, he soon realised that what she was saying made perfect sense, and was more them than any flash place they could hire.

“Think about it.” she said, “No security issues, no press, just us, our friends, family… we can get a marquee by the lake…” Katie paused. As a girl she’d always envisaged a huge, fairy tale wedding with hundreds of guests, in The Rainbow Rooms no less. But now, all she wanted was for those people who meant the world to them to be there to celebrate with them.

“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded. “Never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“Then I’m fine with that.” He smiled, gently kissing her again.

“So you wanna go see this church?”  she asked.

“What now? It’s barely light…” “So?” she sat up “I’ll take you to IHOP on the way…” “Now you’re talking…”he grinned.

By the time they had showered, which Steve had suggested they do together, to save water and time (although by the time they had finished there was a lot more water and time used up than if they showered alone) and finally dressed it was gone eight, meaning they hit IHOP at just after half past. As they both stuffed their faces, excitedly talking about their clandestine wedding planning Katie was struck with just how young Steve looked. He was dressed casually in a Dodgers T-shirt, jeans, trainers and a baseball cap, his blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. He was excited.

The church was in a small neighbourhood in Brooklyn and Katie instantly fell in love with the place. St Augustine’s was an old red stone and brick built church with a tall spire. Very Gothic chic, which caught her attention instantly. As Steve climbed out of the car, a rush of memories hit him, the smells, the noises, the sights, everything. It was like he had stepped back in time as he saw his mother grasping his hand softly as she led him up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors. The last time he had set foot in this church, however, had been his mother’s funeral. But now, it was time for something happier.

Steve slipped his arm round Katie.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” Katie said.

Before Steve had chance to reply, a voice with a faint Irish lilt spoke, causing them both to stand and turn to see the Priest walking towards them.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi…” Steve smiled, shaking the priest’s hand “I’m Steve…”

“Rogers, yes I recognised you.” the Priest smiled “Pleasure to meet you Captain.”

Steve shook his hand before the Priest reached out to Katie

“So this would make you Miss Stark?”

“Hi.” she smiled, shaking his hand.

“Charmed…” The Priest smiled, his eyes twinkled as he looked at Katie and she instantly warmed to the man. He wasn’t as old as she had expected, maybe a few years older than Tony, the hair around his temples was greying and his eyes were lined but he had a kind smile.

“So what can I do for you?”

“Well, we…” Steve smiled at Katie before he looked at the Priest. “We’d like to get married here. As soon as we can.” The dark haired man smiled and beckoning for them to follow him to the back of the church “I’m sure we can manage that, let’s see what date’s we have free…”

After chatting to the priest, and settling on a date, Steve was taken by a wave of nostalgia and convinced Katie to drop into the small cemetery on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Weaving their way through the stones he finally stopped in between two well weathered ones, which contained the names of his parents. Crouching down he gently wiped away decades worth of grime and he bowed his head, his eyes wet.

“Hey ma.” He said softly, “brought someone to meet you.”

Katie felt the tears springing into her eyes as she crouched next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“She’d be so proud of you, Stevie” She said gently, “They both would”

“I hope so.” he said softly and she reached out to turn his head so he was looking at her.

“Baby, how could they not be?”

She gently kissed him before she stood up and made her way to the car, leaving him alone with his thoughts for 10 minutes or so before he came striding out of the yard, and climbed into the driver’s side.

“Could we, maybe update the stones?” he asked after a moments pause “I mean I didn’t have much money back then and I’d like them to have something a bit more, I dunno…” “Of course we can.” she said, tangling her fingers with his, bringing his hand up to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles “Of course we can.”

******

“31st August?” Natasha frowned. She was the first person after Tony who they told they had set a date.

Katie nodded.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s like…well, it’s weeks away!”

“Look, just be grateful it wasn’t sooner. The priest originally offered us a date two weeks off which Steve was all for taking until I persuaded him to give us a bit more time.”

“You know you could have set this date months ago.” Natasha rolled her eyes “Yeah, I know. I mean it’s gonna be a bitch to organise. If only I had a really good almost sister-in-law and a best friend with amazing military like planning skills that could also double up as bridesmaids…” Katie said, eyeing her as they walked. Natasha stopped and turned to face her friend. “You mean…” Katie smiled at her and nodded “If you’re up for the job…”

“I’d be honoured…” she stuttered, before pulling her into a hug, which surprised her slightly but she returned it gladly. “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.” “There is one condition…” Katie said looking at her “Can you get Wanda involved in the organisation too? Help her with something other than training or whatever…”

Nat smiled “Sure I can handle that.” Natasha’s response was nothing to the one she got from Tony when she asked him to give her away. 

“You know you’re my dad in every way other than actually being my dad…” she said, her fingers on one hand playing with those on the other as she felt her eyes misting “There’s no other person I’d want to walk me up the aisle…” He instantly teared over and pulled her into a hug, not finding his voice for a good 30 seconds as he silently shed his tears over her shoulder.

“I’d be honoured…”he whispered softly, kissing her cheek.

Steve, however wasn’t having as much luck. Rhody, Clint and Sam all accepted his invitations to be Groomsmen (he sent one to Thor via Jane, who also accepted gleefully with a loud, booming phone call) but he was struggling really to decide who to ask as his best man.

His initial thought had been Tony, despite the fact the two of them bitched and bickered at one another, they were close, almost brotherly close. However, given that Tony was giving Katie away in his role as Father/Brother of the Bride that was out. The next obvious choice was Sam, but it all just felt wrong. He was struggling, coming to terms with the fact that his lifelong best friend wouldn’t be the one to do the job.

“I always thought it would be Buck by my side.” he said, looking out over the lawn as he was sat on the patio one evening with Katie, the pair of them with a beer in hand. “He was, is, my oldest friend.”

“Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known for the longest Steve.” Katie said, shrugging “It’s about who came into your life and never left your side.”

Those words had resonated within him, and he realised they made perfect sense. So in the end he did ask Sam, who accepted gleefully. Although when he caught him and Natasha huddled in a corner, looking at something on his phone one afternoon, the pair of them sniggering like a couple of naughty kids he started to wonder what on Earth he had started.

***** Katie sat in front of her mirror and did her hair and make-up before she shrugged on the pale pink jumpsuit she’d bought especially for that evening, slipped her feet into her heels and headed to the living room. It was now 6:30, but knowing Steve as she did, he would no doubt barrel through the door in the next 10 minutes, swearing the way he always did when no one else but she could hear him, shower and be ready to go in 15 minutes flat.

She sighed to herself, she’d had the best day today in a long time. It was the first day in ages she’d had off work and she’d managed to buy her wedding dress. Or should that be Tony had bought her wedding dress courtesy of Pepper and a black Amex.  Wanda and Nat had cruised down to Manhatten with he in the Champagne stocked limo, stopping to pick Pepper up on the way. Once in the boutique, it had taken them a while but Katie had finally settled on one, a gorgeous, sweetheart neckline Ivory A-line with lace detailing all-over the bodice which was decorated with crystals. The skirt flared into layer upon layer of tulle decorated with the same lace detailing and beading with the skirt extending into a layered train at the back.

Steve had also had a reasonably productive day. Given that he, Sam and Rhodey were planning on wearing their Military Uniforms for the wedding and that Thor was going to be in his best Asgardian dress gear this only left Clint and Tony to organise for the suits. Katie had already picked them, simple charcoal pinstripes with ivory and gold waistcoats and light blue ties (light blue, pale red and gold were their colours, being a less gaudy variation of red, white and blue which they had agreed on) so this meant all he had to do was sort a fitting for Clint and Tony.

It had been a lot easier than he had imagined, the store already having Tony’s measurements, (because of course he got all his suits from there) and they also had a sister branch about 30 miles from where Clint lived who could sort it for him. So with that done and completed by lunch time his attention had turned to the meetings he had with General Ross and Rhodey about a potential collaboration programme with some of the Armed Forces Specialists. Now he had one final stop to see how the New Recruits for the support team were getting on.

“Hey,“ Steve said as he strode into the training facility before he smirked and nodded over Sam’s shoulder "I’m assuming you told them to take five?”

A confused frown spread over Sam’s face as he turned to look behind him. Every single one of the recruits was standing right staring wide eyed at the Captain.

“Drills!“ Sam shouted “Or you’ll get another 10 laps of the compound!”

“You’ve taken to this training role far too easily.” Steve grinned at him.

“What can I say, I’m a natural born leader.” he grinned “S’up?”

“I’ve been going through the intel on the Cambodia job.” Steve said. “I know the authorities are insisting its some low times arms dealer thinking he can muscle in on someone else’s patch but something smells off.”

“That’s because it is.” Nat said, walking into the gym, tablet in her hand.

“You got something?” Steve asked and she nodded, handing him the item.

“Cross referenced the MO. Matches an attack on an Army Munitions factory in Calcutta. And one in Tayshet, Russia” she said “And this is the culprit.” Steve looked down at the photo up of a man in what looked like a White Hockey Mask.

“He’s calling himself Crossbones.” Nat said as Sam moved to look at the photo.

“Great…another rogue arms dealer.” Steve rolled his eyes.

Sam snorted “What kind of dumbass name is Crossbones?”

Steve sighed and looked at Natasha “We got any info on who he might be?”

“I contacted a few people.” Nat said vaguely. “One of my contacts came through and says he has something but will only speak in person.”

“How soon can we go?” Steve looked at her.

“I’ll talk to them, see what they say.” She said.

Steve nodded “Ok, well I don’t think it needs the full team so me and you will go, Sam you can hold the fort here. We should only be away for a day or two.”

Sam shrugged “You’re the boss.” “I’ll make a few calls, tell them to expect us.” Nat said. Steve nodded and she straightened up. “You talked to Katie?”

“Not since this morning why?” Steve looked at Nat.

“She got a wedding dress today.”

“She did?” Steve’s face softened just the way it did anytime someone referred to their wedding. “Hang on, am I allowed to know that?” “Think it’s pretty safe to know your future wife’s bought a wedding dress, you know, on account of the fact you’ll be getting married soon.” Sam snorted “You’re just not supposed to see it before hand.”

“How long did she take to pick it?” Steve looked at Natasha, a grin on his face. Natasha smirked back at him.

“Not that long, because I’d already rung and told them the type of thing she like so nothing she tried on was hideous to her. We were in there a couple of hours, then went for some lunch and did a bit more shopping.”  

“Good.” Steve nodded. “She’s been working really hard recently so she deserved a day off. I feel like I’ve hardly seen her over the past few weeks with everything that’s been going on.”

Which reminded him, he couldn’t wait to take her out that night for a well overdue evening together. They’d both been so busy with setting up the compound, her business and he was looking forward to them both escaping the hustle and bustle. Which reminded him, he needed to go.

Nodding to the pair of them, smiling as Sam barked another order, he wandered into the corridor. It seemed a lot less busy than usual. Maybe everyone had taken an early finish for some reason, although he couldn’t think why for a Tuesday. He glanced at his watch and gave a start. “Shit…”

They weren’t taking an early dart, he was taking a late finish.

Katie was sat on the couch, shoes long since abandoned along with any hope that they were actually going anywhere, and was half way through a bottle of very expensive Pinot Grigio that she had bought for them to have once they got home by the time Steve blustered into the apartment.

“Shit, shit…baby I am so sorry!” he said, as Katie looked up, not even able to bring herself to be pissed off anymore, she’d been angry about half an hour ago. Now she was just disappointed. “The meeting with Ross and Rhodey took a bit longer and then something came up on the Cambodia thing” he continued, sighing “Time just got away from me.” he stopped as he drew level with the couch “You look gorgeous.” “Shame it was for nothing” She said, rolling her eyes, turning her attention back to the TV and the re-run of Friends she’d been watching but not paying attention to.

“We can still go…”

“There’s no way we’ll make it.” she said, pointing to the clock with her eyes “Its forty minutes into Manhatten and you need to change.” “I’ll call, push it back…” he said after a moment’s pause. “Just forget it.” she sighed “Honey…” he dropped to his knees in front of her “Don’t be like that…we can go for a drink or something.” “I’m not being like anything.” she snapped back. “You’re the one that told me to ready by seven, well I was…you on the other hand-”

“I know and I’m really sorry.” “I know.” she said, standing up “You said. Look, it doesn’t matter. Not like I had anything special to talk to you about or anything…”

“What do you mean?” He frowned, “What-“

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“Katie…” he sighed as he rose to his feet too.

“I’m going to get changed and take a dip in the hot-tub with the rest of this bottle of wine and a manuscript, might as well make the most of my spare time” she said, grabbing the ice bucket as she headed to the hallway “Your presence is not required.”

*****

“Uh oh, what you done?” Natasha asked as she walked into Steve’s office the next morning, finding him browsing delivery sites for flowers.

“Last night was supposed to be Date night.” He muttered with a sigh “I was late, and we missed our reservation. First time I’ve ever done that. Katie was not happy.” “So I suppose now isn’t a good time to as if you’re up for a trip to Russia tomorrow.” Nat said, and he let out a groan. Katie had hardly spoken two words to him all evening and this morning before she had left for her office at the other end of the compound. Today was Wednesday, one of the 2 days out of 5 she worked on SIP stuff during the morning, then trained in the afternoon, a way for her to keep her toes in with the Avengers training.

“You’re right, it’s not.” he said, “But she’s pissed at me anyway so…”

“You sure it’s just about date night?” Nat asked, “Not like her to get so annoyed over something like that, especially if, as you say, you’ve never done it before.” “Well like I said yesterday, this place has been taking up a lot of my time” He shrugged. “She’s probably feeling a bit neglected. It’s my fault completely.” 

“Well instead of wasting money on flowers…” Nat said, nodding to his screen. “Go and find her now, take her somewhere for the afternoon. I’m supposed to be sparring with her in 15 minutes, we can reschedule.”

Steve hesitated. “What about…” “I can handle the arrangements for Russia.” Nat said, “Just go.”

Katie’s bad mood hadn’t got any better by the time she finished her work for the morning and it got even worse when she reached the door of the main gym area and paused as one of the new recruits, a girl called Jenny Allen, was midway through a full on bitch rant.  

“Who the hell does she think she is anyway? I mean…” “She’s a damned good agent.” Evan’s voice cut her off “One of the best I worked with, one of the most outstanding snipers I know so…” “Yeah well she still shouldn’t just be allowed to dip into missions as and when? I mean, we all train our asses off and she just walks around, like she’s hot shit just because she was trained by some SHIELD legend when we all know the real reason she was pulled into SHIELD and the Avengers in the first place is because of her name…” “You’re out of line…” “And let’s face it, she’s only here now because she’s engaged to Cap, and owns half the gaff…”

“I mean, they are two pretty good reasons” Katie said, pushing the doors open and walking into the gym. She had to give Allen credit, she started bit but then recovered and stood tall.

“Katie, I…” Evans started but Katie cut him off. “It’s ok…she has an opinion, she’s entitled to it. Say what’s on your mind Allen.” “I just…” she took a deep breath “I don’t like the way you seemingly get to swan into missions, with little to no training like the rest of us. It’s dangerous.” “Dangerous?” Katie folded her arms over her chest.

“Yes, dangerous. You don’t know how we operate as a team, I mean are you still versed in hand to hand?” Versed? What the fuck?

Katie raised her eyebrow and smirked at Evans who instantly spotted the look on her face. Fuck this, she’d been waiting to give Allen a smack since she had caught her batting her eyelids at Steve, practically trying to climb him when he’d been running over a report with her. What better way was there to fix a bad mood?

“I tell you what.” Katie said “why don’t we find out? I’m due to spar with Widow but you’ll do.” “I err…” Allen hesitated slightly. “Nova I don’t think that’s a good idea?” Evans cut int. “I mean…” “No.” Allen said, straightening up. “It’s fine…I’m game.” Katie turned to drop her water on a bench and started to wrap her hands in the bandages she had.

“Go easy on her…” Evans whispered in Katie’s ear. She looked at him innocently.

The pair of them started to circle and Katie waited, waited like she always did for her opponent to make the first move. She watched, quickly noting that the woman favoured her right, so she was right handed. She was also a bit taller than Katie, and stockier but that wasn’t an issue, she’d floored Sam before and Evans come to think of it.

As Allen came in with a right lead, Katie ducked and aimed a harsh left jab at her mid-section, causing the woman to let out a gasp of air. She recovered fast, coming in again and Katie moved to the right so the blow glanced off her ribs and aimed a kick to her right knee, causing her to stumble slightly. As she straightened Katie was waiting and landed a hard jab straight to her face, causing her to reel as her nose began billowing crimson. There were hisses from the watching recruits and she vaguely registered Evans to tell her to take it easy but she wasn’t listening. Allen wiped at her face and came at Katie, full on, which was what she had wanted, she’d riled her enough to make her want to fight fierce but as she came Katie threw herself to the left and swept both legs from under her. She crashed to the mat and in an instant Katie had her on her front, knee in her back as she yanked her arms back.

“You’re right…” Katie bent over, lips close to her ear as she struggled, making Katie pull even more “I do own half this gaff, and my brother owns the other half. Something you need to remember when shooting your mouth off, and trying to climb my fiancée in his office…” “I wasn’t-.” she protested and Katie cut her off with another yank.

“If you so much as utter another word commenting on my fighting skills again. I will rip your arms out of your sockets, right before I have you escorted out of my compound, you got that?” “Yeah I got it.”

Steve paused at the sight in front of him. Following Natasha’s advice he’d headed to the gym, ready to take his girl out for the afternoon, only to find her pinning Allen to the floor, the woman’s arms yanked behind her back and her nose bleeding on the mat.

“I tried to stop them…” Evans looked up at Steve who made a noise in his throat and strode towards the two women. “Katie that’s enough!” his voice rang out loud across the gym.  “What the hell is going on?” “Allen had some worries I wasn’t field ready.” Katie let go and easily got to her feet, looking at him, a flash of anger in her eyes, the fact he had used his Captain’s voice on her hadn’t gone unnoticed. “So I offered to show her, put her mind at ease.”

“Yeah well I think you’ve made your point.” he said, looking at Allen as she stood up holding tight to her nose, pressing firmly to either side to try and staunch the flow of blood from the single quick right straight Katie had hit her with before the take down.

“Do you need medical Allen?” Steve asked. She shook her head. He turned his attention to Katie, and glared at her “I don’t know what the hell is going on here…” “I just told you.” she shot back. “I was showing how field versed I was…” “By punching her in the face?” he said, his hands falling to his belt. Katie folded her arms and glared back at him.

“We were sparring.” “You were trying to rip her arms out of the sockets…”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Katie rolled her eyes earning herself a glower, a look which would quell anyone else but not her, she wasn’t scared of him. “Maybe now she’ll think twice about making shitty comments.” “If someone punched you every time you made a shitty comment you’d never get up.” he said back, no trace of humour in his voice, because he didn’t find the issue funny at all. He eyed her again before he nodded to the door “Go.” Was he serious? One look in his eyes told Katie he was. 

“Fine.” she shrugged, picking up her water bottle before she left. Natasha, who noticed the tears in her eyes went to stop her but Katie waved her away. Steve watched her back before he turned to Evans, pointing to Allen

“Patch her up and then I’ll see both of you in my office. AND GET BACK TO WORK!” he bellowed round the room.

Evans and Allen both nodded and left.

Steve noticed Natasha was looking at him from the doorway, arms folded.

“Got something to say, Romanoff?” he asked, snappily.

“What could I possibly have say when you handled that so well?” she asked sarcastically. “FYI, you might want to take your shield back home with you later, I can’t expect Nova’s gonna take to being stripped down in front of people so well…” She levelled Steve with another look before she left and he let out a groan of frustration. Could this get any worse?

By the time he got back to his office both Evans and Allen were waiting. And when Evans explained what Allen had been saying, Steve was even more frustrated as he wasn’t surprised Katie had reacted the way she did, not that it made it right, just a little more understandable. He unloaded on the woman, gave her a verbal warning and then dismissed them both. Then, deciding it was time to face the music at home he headed to their apartment.

Katie had made it back to their quarters before she had burst into tears. She knew she was being unreasonable in a lot of ways. The Compound was still finding its feet, so of course it wasn’t going to run like clockwork and obviously Steve was going to be working long hours. She was too, she wasn’t completely innocent in that respect. The issue was him missing date night was something he had never done before and it had surprised her a lot. Was she getting less important to him as the time went on? 

Angrily she stripped off, changed into her bikini top and her denim shorts before she grabbed her book intending on heading out to the patio area to top up her tan in the August sun.

She was in the kitchen, grabbing herself a beer when Steve came back.

“You alright?” He asked.

“No.” Her tone was clipped, “But thanks for asking.”

He rolled his eyes “Katie…”

“Excuse me.” She went towards the door, but he didn’t move.

“Steve, get out of my way.”

He still didn’t move. “No, you’re not going anywhere until we sort this out.”

She groaned and looked up to the ceiling.

“Wanna tell me what your problem is?” he asked

“Right now, you, not letting me out of this fucking room.” she sighed, rubbing at her temples.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me for last night and I get that, but..”

“That is not the problem!”

“Then what is?” He shot back, somewhat exasperatedly. “Honey, I can’t fix anything if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be fixing…”

” That!” she looked at him, her voice loud “That is the problem! That you have no fucking idea what the matter is! You’re so wrapped up in running this place I hardly get a look in. You don’t ask for my input, you don’t involve me in anything…”

“Woah, now hang on.” He stepped forward. “When we moved here you said you didn’t want to run anything…”

“And then you order me out of the fucking room in front of the damned trainees!”

“Yeah well you can’t just kick the crap out of one of my team members like that”

“Yeah well your team member is an asshole.” Katie rolled her eyes. “She deserved it for being a dick…”

She took the opportunity to dodge round him and out of the doorway he had vacated when he stepped into the kitchen and made her way to the doors at the back.

“Right now you’re being a dick”

“I’m not. I just don’t want to play second fiddle to your fucking Army Camp anymore.” “Army Camp?” he let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Yes Army Camp” she said, spinning round.

“You’re being ridiculous.” he shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Absolutely ridiculous.” “And that doesn’t help!” she glowered at him “When I’m pissed off or upset, you telling me I’m being ridiculous…” “Well you are…” A chuckle escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

“Stop fucking laughing at me!” She yelled, the heat rising up her neck and to my ears. He was really, really pissing her off, her could see it on her face he took a deep breath as she continued. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me this whole thing isn’t about reclaiming some of that time and life that was stolen from you?”

“You think…” He stopped and cocked his head to one side, trying to make sense of what she was saying “You think that this, all of this…” he waved his arms around “Is some kind of trip down memory lane?” “Well isn’t it?” He shook his head, snorting, giving her comment the contempt it deserved. “You couldn’t be further off the mark if you tried.”

“Well from what I see it looks like you’re simply trying to re-live your Howling Commando days.” She snapped back “And I have news for you Steve, I’m not Peggy, no matter how much you wish I was.”

The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them and they felt like a slap to his face. But instead of it upsetting him, he found himself boiling over with anger at how fucking ridiculous she was being. They had been through this time and time again, he’d shown her and told her at Clint’s she as the most important thing in his life, hell, they were getting married in less than three weeks for fucks sake, what else did he need to do?

“That’s out of order and you know it.” His voice was low. What do I have to do to make you realise you are what I want? Not Peggy, you…”

Suddenly the shitty nature of her words began to sink in and Katie found herself unable to look at him anymore, so she turned her head to the side. So he crossed the room and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing her to look at him. As she looked back his jaw twitched slightly, a mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes, the furious energy radiating off him and then that ridiculous part of Katie’s brain that controlled her libido piped up, this was fucking hot. Her breathing hitched slightly and he felt it too.

“Fine, if that’s what you want…” he practically growled as his lips crashed onto hers and before she could even think to kiss him back, he pulled away - leaving her wanting and moving toward him to try and catch his lips again. Her hands reached for his face, desperately trying to bring him back to her. At the motion, his hands grabbed her wrists and forced them back to her sides, clearly, but wordlessly telling her who was in charge.

There was a slight pause between them, both trying to catch their breath from the row that had just occurred and from the searing kiss he had just delivered. Then their lips found one another again, his hands moving to her waist to both pull her closer and he began to tug at her clothes. Getting the hint, she acted in tandem, hands falling to the clip on his utility belt, fumbling with it for a second in her rush before successfully releasing it and then going for the flies on his uniform pants. Steve popped the button on her denim shorts and in a quick swoop shoved them and her bikini bottoms down as they both stumbled around the room.

He took hold of her hips again so to manoeuvre her wherever he wanted. They continued to stumble around the room for a moment before he took control and roughly picked her up. Her bare legs immediately wrapped around his still fully uniformed waist and her arms went around his neck as he slammed her up against the wall at the far side of the lounge and, using it as support he shifted his grip from under her ass. One hand went to her hip while the other pried her hands from the back of his neck. He was able to hold both of her wrists together with one of his hands, placing them up above her head and holding them there tightly.

This was angry sex, not make up sex, this was utter ‘I’m so fucking angry at you so I’m gonna show you.’ sex. Well, she was angry too so there was no way he was having this all his own way.

She rolled her hips, hard against him which was enough to get his attention but he simply used his free hand to shove her legs off of him. Katie managed to catch herself on her feet, only slightly bumping against the wall but before she had chance to think his lips found hers again, hungrily kissing her while his hand skated over her bare stomach. She arched into the touch, wanting him to move a bit south, but his hand stopped an inch away from where she wanted it to be.

“Say you’re sorry.” his voice was right by her ear, rougher than she could ever remember it being before. Rough enough to make a shiver go down her spine and for her to try and thrust into his hand, desperate for any sense of relief. But he pulled even further away from her, making her whine a bit. “You’re sorry and you believe me…”

“I’m sorry.” she breathed out, stumbling over her words “And I believe you…”

He surged forward, kissing her desperately and she openly moaned into his mouth as two of his fingers slipped inside of her. His motions were fast and aggressive and he brought her to the brink, and then stopped.

“Do you still believe me?” he breathed out, voice ragged. “Tell me you do and you want this.” The fucker was still making a point but by now Katie really didn’t care.

“Stevie, please.” she thrust her hips out toward him, gasping “I still believe you, I want you.”

It was want, not need. And that didn’t escape his notice. He knew which one he would prefer to hear, to be wanted over needed any day.

He couldn’t help the soft smirk on his face as he braced one hand on the wall beside her head, the other harshly yanked one of her legs up so that it wrapped around his waist. Reaching into his pants he freed his now painfully hard erection from them and didn’t even pause before slamming into her, making her cry out sharply, one hand going to grip his bicep, the other against the wall to steady herself. He slammed into her over and over with such force that she was sure she was about to go through the wall itself and into the hall.

Desperate to be both closer to him and not to actually go through the wall, because that would be awkward to explain, not mention painful, Katie tried to lean in more to him. The motion made him go deeper inside of her, which caused her to moan at the feeling. At that point Steve quickly removed his hand from the wall and lifted her off her feet. Their chests pressed together, the bare skin of her stomach rubbing against the harsh Kevlar of his uniform, both messily kissing each other as Steve stumbled around the main area of the lounge before toppling over the arm of the couch where Katie ended up on top. Even then he continued his aggressive thrusts, his hands on her hips, pulling her down as he drove upwards.

She let out a small groan, the roughness of his pants was grinding against her clit along with the fact he was bottoming out inside her, hitting her spot again and again.

“Shit, Captain…” she hissed and the noise made him slam up even harder, fuck he loved it when she said that when he was being tough. She let out a loud scream and tightened around him and at the feel of her walls clamping down, which was fucking bliss as always, his thrusts upwards became desperate as he chased his own end,  before he gave a loud “fuck…” and he came, hard as she collapsed on top of him.

The pair of them lay, utterly spent and his hands gently ran up her spine as her face pushed into his neck.

“Still pissed at me?” he murmured.

“In a fashion.” she responded as she picked her head from her shoulder and rolled to the side so she was between him and the back of the couch. He moved so they were facing each other, gently nudging her nose with his.

“Can we talk this over like adults now?” his voice was still quite stern. Katie bit her lip as she looked at him and he sighed, his voice becoming softer “I hate rowing with you. But I still don’t know what’s going on. Please talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t have ordered me out.” she said.

“You broke Allen’s nose.” Katie had to fight the smirk crossing her face. Good shot.

“it’s not funny.” “It is.” Katie said “She deserved it.”

After what Evans had told him, Steve kind of agreed to be fair and Katie saw his face soften slightly. “Evans told me what she said.” Steve brushed her hair behind her ears “For what its worth she’s had an official warning.” “Did you go all Cap on her?” Katie raised an eyebrow “Bet she loved that…” “What do you mean?” “Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed…”she snorted before putting on an airy voice “oh Cap…that’s so funny. Hey Cap, can you show me how to do this take down. Oh Cap, you’re such a good teacher… she was practically trying to climb you the other day in your office.” “You’re jealous…” he smirked.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff.” she sighed “Especially not some 28 year old blond bombshell.” “Blond bombshell?” he snorted.

“What? She’s hot.” I shrugged “I’d do her.” His eyes flashed cheekily “Now there’s an image.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed before sighing again.

“Listen to me…” he said, his hand then coming up to caress the side of her face as he looked at her, driving his words home. “You are the most important thing in the world to me and there’s no other girl that comes close, not matter what you think. Not Allen, not Peggy, no one. And as for playing second fiddle…” he gestured with his spare hand around the room. “Say the word and this all goes.”

“Yeah right. You’ll never give up being Captain America…”

“I would for you.” He said simply.

Katie looked at him, he’d shocked her, but he meant every word. If he had to give all this up, he would. He didn’t want to but, he would. The magnitude of what he had just admitted took a while to sink in, but when it did Katie was overcome with emotion, and the tears pricked at her eyes.

“Hey, come on.” Steve let out a soft sigh, as he held her close, rubbing his hands softly up her back. “You wanna tell me why last night was such a big deal, and yeah, I know that I messed up but, well I’m getting the feeling there’s a little more to it.”

With a deep breath she pulled back and licked her lips. “I err, I just wanted to tell you something and I wanted it to be special because I know how much it means to you, but, well, I made a decision on my name. You mean everything to me, Steve, and when we get married I wanna give everything to you, so, I wanna be Mrs Rogers.”

Her words took a moment to sink in and once they did, a huge grin spread across Steve’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, smiling. “We’re tying ourselves together for life and I want everyone to know that I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“I’ll always be yours, Baby.” He whispered, as she leaned in to kiss him, as he wrapped an arm around her waist while one of her legs slithered in between his.

Soft, gentle kisses were shared as Katie gently reached for the zip of his uniform top, undoing it and then guiding his undershirt over his head as he undid his pants fully, shimmying out of them before he guided her onto her back while he shifted so he was caging her in between his legs. This time the mood passion, not anger.

“You have no idea what you do to me…” he whispered gently into her ear as he undid the strings on her bikini top leaving them both completely bare. She let out a groan as she titled her hips up. He closed his eyes as her hand came to rest on his cheek and he leaned into the touch as he shifted so her legs parted and he was inside of her again.

Tilting her head back at the feeling left her neck exposed, which Steve took advantage of in pressing soft kisses up her throat. His hand snaked up her arm so he could intertwine his fingers with hers. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, instead of the frantic rhythm he had prior. The hand that wasn’t entwined with hers went to her hip, pulling her closer as he thrust deeply, gently, slowly, each roll of his hips hitting her spot as he continued over and over again, head dropping to my neck, collar bone and breasts which he had paid no attention to before.

“Stevie, you feel so good…” Katie moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words. When her orgasm rolled over her again, this one not as ferocious as before, but no less pleasurable she melted underneath him, breathless, her hand running through his hair as he came again, collapsing on top of her

The moments after they finished were always their favourite. The quiet bliss that surrounded them like a bubble, keeping them safe from the world.

“I love you.” Katie said softly. He picked his head up from where he had it buried in the crook of her neck so he could meet her eyes.

“I love you too.” he responded, pushing some hair out of her face, thumb circling her cheek. “I can’t wait to make you Mrs Rogers.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over hers.

**** Chapter 26

**Original Posting**

[grimmseye]

Test Flight

Read on Ao3 Here

Rating: Gen

Fandom: She-ra

Relationships: Hordak & Entrapta, Hordak/Entrapta (pre-relationship)

Chapter Characters: Hordak, Entrapta

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Season 2, Time for Entrapta’s thoughts and feelings about Hordak for 3000+ words

Tumblr don’t fuck up my formatting challenge

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As far as Entrapta could tell, Hordak rarely left his lab.

Lord Hordak. Hordak. She was supposed to bow, wasn't she, Catra definitely said a lot about that and she definitely used to but then she’d forgotten so — so maybe it wasn’t an issue. Hordak would have said if he cared, about the bowing or the Lord or anything else, he certainly had no issue huffing and puffing as she fixed the wiring in his lab.

So it was a rare sight, Hordak emerging from his sanctum. Entrapta sat at the edge of the transport they’d ordered, watching as the people of the Fright Zone skittered in a wide berth around them. Hordak stood tall, looming over her. She had to crane her head back just to look at him. When he caught her looking, one of his brow-ridges lifted, and she waved.

It was kind of cute, really, to think about him like this compared to just a few nights before: big, scary Lord Hordak who smiled when he told her about the stars.

This was their first joint project, not getting straight to the portal but testing their compatibility in the lab on something less important. The results so far had been promising. She’d gone as far as to add Hordak to her logs, finding that:

One, he’d quickly surpassed Glimmer, Mermista, Perfuma, and Adora on all levels.

Two, he had an advantage on Catra and Scorpia in common interest.

And three, he’d swiftly surpassed Bow in time spent together. That added up to a grand picture of Hordak being her friend, didn’t it? The data certainly said so.

As for their ability working together? Entrapta felt a warmth welling up in her chest, so strong she had to kick her legs against the edge of the transport until she was bouncing in place.

It was amazing.

Her bots had been the only things that came close to the role Hordak played now, handing her tools and stabilizing loose pieces while she bolted them in place. The first day she’d shown up in his lab, there’d been an apprehension in her chest. How many times now had she thought she’d made a friend, only for the next time around to go all wrong. She’d really thought she’d made friends — three friends, five, six of them.

And then they’d left her. Every one of them.

But walking into the lab that morning, she found Hordak hunched over a desk with her blueprints open on his data pad: another project sent for approval that she actually hadn’t started yet. He’d turned it over to her and said, “We will be building a prototype of this design.”

And then they had. Just like that.

Both of them fumbled at first, she thought. She kept bumping into him, he groped about on a table for tools that were in her hair. And then he said, “Put the tools on the table if you are not using them.” And she had said, “Tell me when you’re behind me so I don’t bump into you.”

And then they had done that. Both of them. And by the end of the working day, they were working smoothly around each other, the silence broken by Hordak’s grunts of “Behind you,” and the shuffling of tools on the workbench.

They built a prototype, criticized and refined its design, her suggestions were met with questions, counters, and proposals, his methods met her awe and her criticism—

“If you wire it that way, it’s going to burn out,” she’d told him, and when he glanced up and growled there’d been a pang, a seizure of anxiety in her chest and a voice that chanted you shouldn’t have done that.

“What would you propose?” He rumbled.

And he’d listened.

They’d done it. Together. And now it was time to test it.

And all of that meant that she had a lab partner. She had a lab partner. Sometimes that thought made her so happy she couldn’t contain herself. Sometimes it filled her with enough panic to gnaw her nails down to the quicks when she thought how she was only there to build weapons, only good as long as she was useful.

But that couldn’t be true, could it? None of the others told her about the stars.

And not just because chances were that they didn’t have any idea what stars were.

“Lord Hordak, sir!” A man ran up and snapped a salute. “We finished loading the transport. It’s fueled and ready for departure.”

Hordak grunted, “Hm. Good. You are dismissed.” He twisted a hand and the technician bolted, interaction done in a few quick seconds. She didn’t really get it — he was big and tall, sure, and his armor was impressive, but for all he growled and knocked tools off the table, he’d never done a thing to hurt her. Quite the contrary, she might be the happiest she’d been in her life.

Whatever their reasons, the soldiers scrambled to carry out his orders. There was a clatter as the hangar doors opened. Taking that as their cue, Entrapta swung herself through the open door of the transport, Hordak stalking behind.

The transports were pretty exciting: a wheel and pedal to steer but a data pad built into the dashboard that logged coordinates and known surroundings, scanned the area for threats. And the one they were taking wasn’t earthbound. Then she had to consider the amount of propulsion it would take to get this machine off the ground and keep it in the air — it made her eyes shine.

Hordak looked at her and she realized she was squeaking again. She bounced towards the controls, saying, “You have to give me the blueprints for these. Flying transportation could change the world! How does it work, tell me everything!” A thought struck her brain and she gasped, pushing herself up by her hair and into Hordak’s face. “Can I fly it?”

He narrowed one eye, stepping backwards. “I will handle launching while you observe,” he announced. “I can certainly explain the mechanisms at work once we do so, but for now it is not safe to fly without training first.”

Entrapta deflated for a moment, trying not to let her disappointment show on her face. Then Hordak cleared his throat. When she looked up, he was straight-based, arms folded behind himself and head tilted up and to the right, eyes directed away from her. She knew that posture well. “Once we are in the air, however... I believe it would be safe to let you take over the controls until we reach the landing point.”

“YES!” Entrapta leaped up, propelled by her hair. She grabbed the seat beside the pilot’s after that, throwing herself into it. “Let’s go, come on come on!”

She swore she heard him laugh at that, just a quiet chuckle as he took his seat beside hers. “Safety belts first,” he reminded her, as he clipped his into place. The seats were equipped with five point harnesses that fed over the chest and lap and between the legs. “Only the lap belt is required at all times,” Hordak explained. “The other three are for takeoff and landing, so you will need to wear all of them before we proceed.”

“Gotcha!” Entrapta buckled herself in. She knew objectively that her own lack of safety procedures were questionable — Hordak was regularly scolding her for getting too close to volatile machinery, even if the data said there was only a zero point zero zero three percent chance of destabilizing. But he’d put his foot down about it, and he was good at catching her when she got too excited to remember to put on the heat insulated gloves before grabbing a freshly-fired laser blaster.

When they were both strapped in, Hordak reached for the controls. A slow rumbling started up, making her heart flutter. She watched as Hordak began the takeoff sequence, walking her through each part in his low, raspy tones. He really had a pleasant voice, she mused.

Initially, Hordak was going over things she understood: fuel combustion, admittedly on a scale larger than she was used to working with — and a shortage of adequate fuel was part of the reason they could so rarely use these heavy transports. But she knew the mechanism behind it, and it gave her time to sit and observe him.

The more she looked, the more it made sense that he wasn’t Etherian. He didn’t match any of their known peoples, a face that resembled bone but was soft and pliable enough to speak and emote and could replicate a wider range of sounds than she knew possible in any humanoid species. His natural vocalizations included clicks and growls, occasionally even making a sound similar to a chirp to perform what Entrapta could only compare to echolocation. He’d found a bit of loose wiring deep inside their device that way. Despite that, he could speak Etherian common without issue, as well as the roaring language that Rogelio and the other lizardfolk used.

It would probably be rude to inquire about his vocal anatomy, right? Right?

Maybe she’d ask later.

She refocused as he started to get to points she wasn’t familiar with, leaning forward and watching eagerly. Those working in the hangar cleared the way, lights illuminating the path down to the opened gates and into the sky.

She screamed with excitement when their rolling forward began to accelerate, rapidly picking up speed to the point she was leaning back in her chair, eyes wide as the sky raced towards them.

Then they were out in open air. The jagged shape of the Fright Zone spilled out below them, and beyond that was the sea, glittering and blue.

She leaned as far forward as her safety belts would allow, giving a soft “Wow,” as she took it in. She unclipped all but her lap belts to get closer to the windshield, beaming as she said, “I’ve never been to the sea before!”

Hordak made a sound of acknowledgement, and Entrapta continued, “I’m not much for biology but there’s just so much down there that we haven’t explored. Actually much of Etheria in itself is unknown, when you consider the vast depths of the ocean, space, and then unexplored terrestrial locations such as the Crimson Wastes and the Whispering Woods, and even the Kingdom of Snows has only expanded so far.”

“That the denizens of this planet barely understand the rock they dwell on tells me all I need to know about them,” Hordak rumbled. Entrapta leaned back to look at him, finding herself smiling.

“It’s kind of fun, though,” Entrapta commented. “I mean, if all the discoveries had already been made, there’d be no questions to ask. Not knowing what’s in the Whispering Woods is what makes you want to explore it, figure it out! Maybe we’re a little behind the greater universe, but every discovery is worthwhile to me.”

Hordak glanced at her for just a moment, his ears perking somewhat. “... Perhaps,” he ground out. “Your perspective is…” He went quiet for a few moments, before settling on, “different. Personally I am content to stay far away from those wretched woods, as well as the ocean. However, I suppose that someone would find intrigue in unlocking their secrets.”

They were both silent for several moments, until Hordak said, “We are in a clear zone, if you would like to steer —”

“YES!”

Hordak took over the landing sequence, regardless of Entrapta’s wheedling. His face had pinched and his voice went low and growl-y enough that she bristled her hair at him but still backed away from the controls. At least she’d figured out how to launch the ship into a spiral, and she swore she’d heard Hordak laugh.

They might have even more in common than she’d believed, even if he refused to let loose. If Hordak was going to be the one who insisted on safety parameters, Entrapta could be the one to push limits.

For now, safety parameters won out once again and she watched Hordak bring them down on the offshore testing site. It was a desert island, and even from above she could already see the patches of burned or empty space where other weapons had been tested. A landing pad received them, the transport’s doors creaked upon, and Entrapta seized the data pad to link up with their very first invention.

“Introducing!” Entrapta announced, lifting up on her hair, recorder trapped in a tendril, “The very first joint project between myself and Hordak, designed to adapt to land, sea, and air via a series of problem and solution protocols, I have named her: Patty!”

She clapped her hands twice, and on cue Patty lurched forward. Entrapta flitted around Hordak to watch over his shoulder, barely catching how he tensed and shifted away in favor of Patty’s first steps. Or, first revolutions of her treads.

“Patty has three forms. The first, terran form, features treads that can move over all terrain: over rocks and mud and sand and ice, and ideally underwater! However, if necessary Patty can deploy thrusters in both its aquan and aerial forms! And oooooh she’s a beauty.”

Patty was a transport, the engine formed similarly to the skiffs with a body that was more sturdy, allowing its riders to use it for both movement and cover. This would advance the Fright Zone’s ability to expand into less favorable terrain, and potentially aid them in future battles against Salineas, Mystacor, or the Kingdom of Snows.

She looked over to Hordak, who was still observing Patty. “Bring it down to the shoreline. We will test first its aerial and then underwater capabilities.”

“You got it!”

They boarded a skiff — again, at Hordak’s insistence. Better, in his view, to use tech they knew was stable than to risk Patty giving out with them on board. They tracked her as she rolled down towards the shoreline, easily climbing over rocks and onto sand.

“The overland speed without obstacles is adequate,” Hordak began, and then tipped his head to speak into the recorder as Entrapta held it up, “however I believe we should attempt to increase its average speed without overtaxing the engine.”

“The problem with that is slowing down in time to get over the obstacles,” Entrapta pointed out. “Buuut… if we were to integrate some of the bots’ sensors into it —”

“— It could automatically detect these obstacles and adjust to the need without risk of driver error,” Hordak concluded.

They looked at each other, each with a smile. Entrapta’s was broad with delight, Hordak’s sharp and keen. It dropped away a moment later as he swiveled his head back to Patty, clearing his throat before saying, “Why don’t you activate its aerial mode now.”

“Right!” Entrapta leaped to it, chattering into the recorder as she issued the command. She bounced between her feet, laughing with joy as the chassis shifted and shuffled, making room for wings and thrusters, treads sinking into its body and replaced by wheels. The thrusters burst to life, and she watched Patty sail off the edge of a stone outcropping, into the air above the sea, and then into the sky.

She shrieked, utter delight swelling in her chest. “It’s working! She’s flying!”

“She —” Hordak made a face. “It is hanging severely to starboard.”

Entrapta puffed out a dismissive breath, flapping a hand at him. “We can fix that. The point is that she’s in the air on the very first flight.”

“Of course she is,” Hordak sniffed. “She is a product of both of our expertise combined.”

And there it was again. That swelling, too-big-for-her-chest sense of joy. She could hug him, considered doing it against her better judgement before discarding that. She tended to grab and pull without thinking, but he’d made his distaste for that clear. And he didn’t even shout when she inevitably forgot and grabbed at him again, just growled out her name and a reminder and she’d let go and it was fine.

Working with Hordak was simple in a way she found difficult to articulate, only that she felt different around him. More real, more herself, like she didn’t have to think about her actions, didn’t believe she’d understood him only to realize too late she was wrong.

The Fright Zone as a whole was a lot like that. Not quite as much as Hordak and his Sanctum were, but the bare truth was she’d felt more at home there than she ever did in Dryl.

The Horde was home to the outcasts of Etheria, she’d concluded. Their first allies had been the Scorpionoid kingdom, a family long ostracized by the other nations. The reptilians whose vocal chords couldn’t shape around Etherian common could speak and be heard here. Her own kingdom had slotted perfectly into place, a kingdom without a runestone given value.

She knew better than to think that what they were doing was good. It didn’t have to be good, it just had to feel good. She liked this place, liked Catra and Scorpia, liked Rogelio who lended a hand without a word when she needed to move something heavy, liked Octavia with the boisterous laughs and inquiries into experiments she didn’t fully understand.

She liked Hordak. She liked working with him. She liked knowing she’d get to do it again tomorrow, and again the next day, and that they’d keep working together to make something amazing, something that would let her see the very stars he’d told her about.

Entrapta tried not to dwell on the past much. The past was only useful to learn from the mistakes you’d made. But when she did, at night when there wasn’t something else to occupy her mind before she fell asleep, she came to one conclusion: she had never been happier. She had never felt more at home.

She drew in a deep breath and smiled as she puffed it out. “Ready to test the underwater capabilities, partner?” She asked.

Hordak paused for just one moment before answering, “Ready.”

It was scary, to think about ever losing this, to think about the ever-pressing what-if. What if this was just like before, like every other person coming to Dryl just for the weapons, never for the people and only for what they made.

But maybe this one would be different. It already was different, really, a brand new variable to take into account:

She’d never had a lab partner before.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Bernie Sanders gave Washington whiplash this week — and it was all part of his plan. Barely 24 hours after the Vermont senator publicly rejected a $3.5 trillion spending deal following a Monday meeting with President Joe Biden, he turned around to tout it as the most transformational policy proposal in nearly 100 years.

The shift in tone was a tactic Sanders used to coax moderate Democrats into going far higher than they might have otherwise felt comfortable. After he had insisted on shooting for the moon with a $6 trillion budget proposal, $3.5 trillion suddenly looked pretty reasonable.

The episode revealed a conciliatory side to the liberal icon often depicted by the media and Republicans as wild-eyed and well to the left of his party. Sanders has opposed some of Biden and Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer’s policies and nominees, but never in instances when his vote would prove decisive. He’s also softened his opposition to a bipartisan infrastructure deal, recognizing that he can't alienate his fellow Democrats if he wants to move his own agenda.

Still, the Independent from Vermont isn’t quite ready for the “P” label. “It’s not that I’m more pragmatic. It’s that there are 50 members of the Democratic Caucus. And unfortunately not all of them agree with me on everything,” Sanders said in an interview. “It was important to have a vision going forward of where we needed to go. And I think that was the right vision,” Sanders added. “Obviously, it was a vision that was a little bit more comprehensive than some of my colleagues.”

Even after two presidential runs garnered him national stardom and effective ownership of the American left, Sanders has toiled in the Senate minority with few levers to pull. This Congress, as the Senate Budget chair and a member of Schumer’s leadership team, the 79-year-old is one of the most powerful people in Democratic-controlled Washington. He also seems to be having a good time after decades of prowling the Capitol with gruff rebuttals for reporters delivered in his signature Brooklyn accent. After his interview with POLITICO, he was pressed by another reporter to take “one more question.”

“She makes me speculate,” he teased the second reporter, his voice rising in playful incredulousness. “One more question?!”

Jokes aside, moderates surmised it wasn’t easy for Sanders to shed his uncompromising stance on this year's massive spending blueprint, which is still perhaps months away from becoming law. Tester, who quickly endorsed Sanders’ budget blueprint, despite reservations, observed that Sanders likely “had hesitation” in coming down by $2.5 trillion.

“It may have been one of those deals where it was: ‘Look, Bernie, if we don’t get this, we can’t do anything.’ And he decided to move with it,” Tester said of the haggling. Yet senators on the Budget Committee viewed Sanders as taking an extreme position precisely so that it would yield a compromise all the more fruitful for liberal Democrats. If Sanders had started off endorsing Biden’s number of $4 trillion, it’s possible he and other progressives might have had to settle for a number lower than the $3.5 trillion they agreed upon. “Bernie Sanders is like a human embodiment of shifting the Overton Window,” said Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.), who serves on the Budget Committee. “We wouldn’t be there without him putting out $6 trillion.”

With a ceiling of $3.5 trillion, Sanders says he can pursue all the changes that he’s prioritized, just not for not as long as he wants. That raises the possibility of future fights over the extension of programs like the expanded child tax credits championed by Democrats. Nonetheless, Sanders argues every chance he gets that he’s pushing “the most consequential piece of legislation passed since the 1930s for working people.” On the price tag alone, he’s right: If successful, the current social spending bill will be the biggest ever passed by Congress.

Those ambitious aspirations, and his influence on the Democrat Party’s agenda, make Sanders a handy villain for Republicans. The GOP tried to use his possible ascension in the majority as an attack line in the Georgia Senate races -- only to see Democrats win those contests, giving Sanders the budget gavel. Senate Republicans still try to tie vulnerable Democrats to Sanders, more so even than Biden or Schumer. “We applaud Bernie Sanders’ commitment to socialism and his influential leadership pushing 2022 Senate Democrat candidates to the far left,” said Katharine Cooksey, a spokeswoman for the National Republican Senatorial Campaign Committee.

In addition to his central role in the Democratic caucus, Sanders also has the ear of former presidential rival Biden. Since winning the nomination and throughout the first six months of his presidency, the president has kept Sanders close. White House chief of staff Ron Klain essentially had an open-door policy with Sanders as he pushed for a $15 minimum wage earlier this year. That hike was ultimately crushed by moderates and the Senate parliamentarian, an early blow for Sanders.

But Sanders returned quickly to press Biden to embrace an expansion of Medicare coverage for dental, hearing aids and vision. During a private Oval Office meeting ahead of the budget announcement, Sanders “made that case passionately” again and Biden “gave his full backing,” said a senior White House aide. Andrew Bates, a White House spokesman, said Biden “deeply respects Senator Sanders’ unflinching commitment to fighting for working people."

Medicare expansion is included in Senate Democrats’ budget proposal, though it’s unclear whether Sanders will be able to lower the Medicare eligibility age as he set out to do months ago. Nonetheless, Sanders seems close to cinching a major change to an entitlement program that's helped define the party's legacy for generations.

For many years, Sanders played “a kind of gadfly role,” said David Axelrod, who served as an adviser to former President Barack Obama, who Sanders briefly entertained primarying during the 2012 presidential campaign. But now, he added, Sanders “has comfortably shifted into the role of deal-maker."

“You're seeing a very pragmatic Bernie Sanders, but he's pragmatic in a principled way,” Axelrod said, observing that Biden and Sanders, “who really were from different places in the party, have come together in the sunset of their careers to do something potentially historic.”

Asked if Sanders is a pragmatist, Sen. Brian Schatz (D-Hawaii) offered a clipped “yes” for an answer: “I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

This isn’t the first deal Sanders has cut, and it probably won’t be the last. In 2014 he memorably teamed with the late Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) on a landmark agreement to reform the scandal-plagued Veterans Affairs Department. As part of that agreement, Sanders signed off on expanding private care access for veterans, a concession directly at odds with his long-standing commitment to single-payer health care. Sanders also struck an alliance last year with Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.) in pushing for new pandemic stimulus checks.

“He’s obviously a passionate advocate. But he also understands this is a moment that we can’t let go by,” said Michigan Sen. Debbie Stabenow, a member of the Budget Committee and Democratic leadership. “He was able to read the room.”

Sanders is already digging in for the next round of fights. He may have centrist Sen. Mark Warner (D-Va.) and the rest of the Budget Committee on board with his budget plan, but he still needs to win over more conservative Democratic Sens. Joe Manchin of West Virginia and Kyrsten Sinema of Arizona. Manchin said he hasn’t yet talked to Sanders about the proposal.

Once again, Sanders is drawing a line in the sand, saying he’s not coming down any more from $3.5 trillion. Time will tell whether this one is real or tactical. “No. Quite the contrary,” he said, hinting that progressive allies across the Capitol might drive the price back up. “We’ll see what happens in the House.”

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 5: Lapse

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Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: Papyrus is left to his own devices...

Papyrus rubbed at bleary eyes. Normally he was perfectly fine staying up all night, but with things being so stressful and hectic lately, he’d found himself sleeping more despite the threat of nightmares and his natural insomnia. He'd tried to stay up and keep watch, just in case.

But Sans had never come home last night. Papyrus had checked, in case he'd slipped past him while he napped,but the rooms were empty as ever. He found himself pacing the floor anxiously, at a loss for what else to do and his mind buzzing. He’d have to call Undyne and say he was out sick again… He hated lying like this, but he hated the thought of telling the truth more. He'd have to keep up the act. Well, it wasn't like he'd never done that before.

“Hello, Undyne, it is me, Papyrus,” he said into the receiver when it was time, sounding appropriately regretful. “Sans is still sick. I am still… you know. So. Neither of us can work. Again. I am very sorry.”

“Papyrus, it’s okay,” Undyne replied, sounding more sympathetic than she had a right to. “I know you guys are having a hard time. Just take care of yourselves and I’ll worry about the rest, got it?”

“Very well! Thank you,” he replied, and hung up, grateful for her patience. He laughed to himself--patience was not a quality he typically associated with Undyne. He'd have to make it all up to her somehow--he'd already slacked off far too much. But what could he do from his position? If only Sans had bothered to get his own cell phone...

Papyrus sighed. Maybe Sans had just fallen asleep somewhere strange—he did that sometimes. But what if someone found him? What if he reacted badly again and hurt them? He wouldn’t mean it of course, but who would know that? What if they were both found out and never treated the same again…?

Papyrus turned back to pacing the floor, a dozen thoughts whirling through his head at any given moment. Lunchtime came and went, and before long it was evening. But there was still nothing from Sans, and he wondered if this was how Sans had felt when he’d run away. His pacing trailed to a halt. How could he have done this to his own brother?

Tears, unbidden and stinging, sprung to the skeleton’s sockets and rolled down his cheeks. He sank to the floor with a hushed sob, shuddering. He missed Sans, had missed him so much, and then they'd gone and fought over what were silly, small things really! And now Sans had run away--he’d transformed himself after doing goodness knew what, blamed himself for acting on instinct, and almost given up on himself completely. He was in no state to be alone.

No, no, he was fine, Papyrus assured himself. He couldn't give up hope! Sans had been in a bad way, but he’d been bad before and always managed to pull out of it. He wouldn’t do anything foolish, surely--he had to believe in him, trust that he'd come back when he was ready. Papyrus dried his tears, took a few deep breaths, and headed up to his room to browse the Undernet for a while. At least he could see what everyone else was up to.

And he wouldn’t sleep, just in case Sans made it home tonight. Or the next night. Or the one after that. Whenever he came back, he'd be ready.

But it wasn’t a week before he got stir-crazy. The house wasn’t exactly small, but he was starting to feel like its walls were pressing in on him and there was no real room to stretch his legs. Sans wasn't here to take them out somewhere he could run freely. There were only so many times he could vacuum or scrub everything before cleaning lost its appeal too. He’d turned to Sans’ quantum physics books just for something new to read after he’d exhausted his own collection... but the subject made his brain feel fuzzy and his heart ache. Undyne was getting worried too, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could say his brother was sick before she stormed over again to check on them. But he was too afraid of his past getting out to risk leaving the house himself. He’d wait—he was the Great Papyrus! This was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Nothing he couldn't...

 Nothing he...

 He paced the house, falling into a rhythmic path; doorway, living room, upstairs, leap down to the doorway and do it all again. It was moving, and moving felt good, so he kept doing it, over and over until he got tired. His claw caught in the carpet and he hissed at it before tugging free, and discovered it could be torn. Oh, fun! He dug his claws in and pulled with legs and back, ripping up a long strip of the stuff--only to be instantly filled with regret. No! This was making a mess! He didn't make messes, that was the brother he was waiting for, he knew better! He gave a sad trill and tried to put the carpet back, but it was too late. Though tearing it had been fun, he shouldn't do that again. That was bad. He went back to pacing.

Papyrus found a shredded cushion in his jaws. He wasn't even sure what had come over him--it was just soft, and looked nice to bite and--now there were bits of stuffing all over the floor. He... he hadn't meant to destroy it. He dropped the mangled cover and began sweeping up the scattered fluff, then tried to stuff it back into the cushion. But it wouldn't stay in, there were far too many holes, and he ended up pushing it into the corner. He'd deal with it later. After his brother came back. He paced for a while, then headed upstairs when he finally felt tired and curled up in his bed.

A loud, weird sound startled him awake. He waited, and it came again--oh yeah, he knew that sound. He got up and found the little black shiny thing that was making the noise and took it into his jaws... wait that wasn't right. It rung again, and the sound vibrating through his teeth startled him into dropping it. But somehow that did the trick.

"Hey, Papyrus? You there?"

Who--oh yeah! What was her name again--Undyne! It was Undyne's voice! She... sounded worried. He needed to make her not worried, he needed to--to think, to talk!

"Hhhrrhhhh--" he rasped, no, that wasn't right! Come on!

"Papyrus?!" Oh great, now she sounded really worried!

He rumbled a growl and coughed to get the right magic going. "HHHEllo, Undyne, there we go! Forgive me!"

"Er, everything alright there?" she asked, sounding a little less worried. "I haven't heard from you in a few days, and then it was like you couldn't talk just now--what's up?"

Papyrus blinked. Had it really been a only few days that he'd...? "It's fine! I just managed to catch the same thing Sans is sick with. We are both absolutely miserable!"

"Aw geez," Undyne replied. "Well, take care of yourselves, and let me know if you need anything--I'm serious. And if you don't, call me when you're feeling better, okay?"

"Of course! Thank you!" he replied, and she hung up.

Papyrus remained staring at the phone for a while. He'd slipped, let himself get away. Without enough to do, it was easy--even now he wanted to go back to pacing, circling the house like a trapped animal. But wasn't that what he was...?

Well, trapped, yes. Animal? Only in the broadest of terms. He wouldn't let this happen again, he was better than that! Darting over to his bookshelf, he pulled out all his books on puzzle design and spent the rest of the day devising new traps. Despite his claws getting in the way or tearing the paper, he drew blueprints and worked out calculations for mechanisms well into the night--anything to keep his mind sharp. A lack of stimulation invited stagnation.

He'd almost lost himself back in the forest too. Only his determination to work out a solution had kept his mind clear enough that when Sans found him, it hadn't taken too long to reawaken his thoughts once more. But with Sans gone, and his sources of entertainment dwindling... He had to be careful. He drew furiously, covering his floor with blueprints and books and ideas, and for a little while, he felt safe.

Papyrus startled out of a nightmare with heat lingering in his jaws and the smell of smoke filling his nose. Panting, he got to his feet, eyes fixed on the scorched carpet and wall before him. Sharp orange caught his eye, and he swatted at the embers still gnawing at the edges of his diagrams. He checked for more hot spots, found none, shook himself out and crept over to crack a window before retreating downstairs and shiver on the couch.

As much as he hated to admit it... maybe this wasn't something he could handle after all.

It had been a long, long time since he'd attacked anything in his sleep. It wasn't even the first time he'd had this sort of dream--thinking that his brother had died somehow was pretty well played out by now. It almost didn't phase him. But it helped that until now, he'd always been able to check on him, see for a fact that Sans was very much alive and his usual obnoxious self.

But Sans was gone, and had been for a while.

Before that, he hadn't been his usual, obnoxious self.

And a dream that he'd lashed out at their creator, and their creator had struck back and--it was just too much for Papyrus. Even for someone as great as him. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore, but there was only one person he could call.

Reluctantly, haltingly, he shambled upstairs to retrieve his phone, and returned as quickly as he could; the blackened carpet still haunted him. He sat on the floor with his hand hovered over the keypad, trembling. He wasn't really going to do this, was he? Admit he couldn't do something on his own, admit he wasn't perfectly okay and no one should worry about him? Reveal he'd been lying to Undyne...?

But he needed help, for getting food if nothing else--

But he couldn't admit what he'd done, or else she'd be furious--

But he wanted to talk to her, to someone so badly--

He backed away from the phone with a whine and paced around it for a while, torn between his desires until nothing made sense anymore. Lost in anxious thought, the sudden sight of the phone on the floor sent him leaping back with a yelp, and he fled to a corner where he could watch it. The phone was scary.

He flinched when it rung, and hissed at the sudden noise and light as he curled tighter into the corner. He wanted to get away from that thing, but couldn't leave. And it was bad that it was ringing too, he was going to be in trouble! But he couldn't do anything--!

He buried his face into the floor and shuddered long after the phone had stopped. And he jumped a good six feet straight up when the front door practically exploded. Back arched against the wall, he stared wide-eyed at Undyne, who seemed just as shocked.

"Papyrus?!"

He rattled.

In an instant, she was hugging him. He was stiff at first, unsure of the sudden contact--but something in his mind seemed to switch off, and he relaxed. He laid his head across her shoulders, after more than a few shuddering definitely-not-sobs, he sat down slowly. Undyne let him go.

"Hey Papyrus, it's okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

He whined nervously. It was now or never.

“G… gone,” he finally managed to croak, then coughed. “Sans is gone, Undyne... He... The day you came to visit, and I said he was sick, he took a shortcut out and I—I haven’t seen him since! He’s gone...”

Undyne studied him wearing a stunned look. “He left you?”

“Y-yes, though, I don’t know that he meant to be gone so long, I—I don’t think so, not after I left him… Unless… unless he’s still mad at me about that! That has to be it, why else would he...? He, he, he hates me for it, I just know it, I’m a terrible brother!” Papyrus cried, curling in on himself.

“Hey!” she barked, pulling his head up to look at her. “Listen up--there's NO WAY that's true. You matter more than anything else in the world to Sans, even I can see that! When you were gone, he got—he got so bad I don’t think he left the couch for a week. If he was sick, maybe it was some kind of fever dream..."

Papyrus shivered. "...Maybe. But he should have been back by now."

"Provided he's still alive..." Undyne uttered, then realized what she'd said and to who she'd said it. "I mean--! Of course he's alive! He's probably just slacking off somewhere!"

Papyrus couldn't help another whine. "But he always comes home... He's never been gone this long..."

Undyne furrowed her brows and drew back as she thought. "Hold on... If he hasn't been here, but I thought he was just sick... Where the he--uh, heck is he? He's just... gone?"

Papyrus rattled harder. Maybe Sans was dead. He couldn't keep his whimpering from rising to a keening howl.

Undyne winced as her friend broke down, and took his trembling wrists into her hands. “Hey, Papyrus! Listen--I wish you would have told me sooner so we could have gone looking for him. Both of you guys… it’s like, you don’t want anyone to worry, but then these problems aren’t things that just go away if you don’t talk about them, and running away won't help either. I was… I’m terrified we’ll lose you just because you never say when anything is wrong.”

Aside from a muted sob, Papyrus was silent.

“So come on! You want to find your brother, right? Good or bad, we need to figure out what happened. We have to go looking for him.”

“I can’t go out. I can’t. I can’t…” Papyrus whimpered, and Undyne sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t think anyone will recognize you. I know I didn’t, back when Sans first brought you back, and I know you pretty dang well—I mean, I didn't until you spoke. So I’ll do the talking, and if anyone asks we can say you’re a trainee from New Home or something, depending on where we’re looking. I just…” Undyne trailed, eye darting as she thought. “Look. I can’t rest until both you skeletons are back on your feet at 100 percent, because anything else has messed with you both something awful and I hate seeing my friends suffer. So come on. Let’s find Sans and give him what-for for making you worry.”

Papyrus studied her, then managed a soft laugh as he rubbed at his eyes. “Not too much of a what-for though."

Undyne laughed, and helped him stand. "I'll give him exactly the right amount of what-for, how about that? First things first though--I'll make us something to eat and then we can come up with a plan."

Considering he couldn't remember what he'd last eaten, Papyrus nodded. "An excellent plan, Captain Undyne! I'm afraid I've let my usual culinary exploits fall to the wayside, so... that would be nice. Thank you."

"Hey, no problem. Like I said, I wanna see you guys back at 100% sooner rather than later. Come on though, I'm not gonna do it for you!"

Papyrus leapt into action, happy to have the company, happy that Undyne wasn't mad at him. He was still worried about his brother, but they were going to do something about that too. In the meantime, an evening with someone as cool as Undyne wasn't a bad way to spend it. He'd slipped a little, but it was nice to have someone help him back up. Maybe together, they could help Sans too--wherever he was.

[the-final-sif]

could ya tell me more about Kat drawing? like one of favorite headcanons ever and mainly because of you. bruh Katsuki hakamata au really made uwu with his sketchbook i would love to know more headcanons on that

Okay! Katsuki drawing is one of my favorite smaller headcanons for him!

He draws almost exclusively realistic stuff. If he’s drawing for fun, then he’s drawing memories and moments from his life, sometimes scenery, and sometimes on his worst days scenes from his nightmares, but all things that he’s seen somewhere else. He also draws out designs for costumes/weapons, but they tend to be pretty realistic/technical drawings.

That’s because art is a form of processing for him. Katsuki has a lot of trouble with processing and understanding his own emotions. He wasn’t taught any self-reflective skills or emotional control skills when he was younger, and as a result he often experiences intense emotions that he doesn’t even understand let alone know how to handle.

Art is one of the few methods of dealing with those emotions that he has. It lets him reflect on the day, thinking over how things went and deciding how he feels about something as he sketches it out. It also lets him thing about his own actions and what he might want to change about them.

When he’s designing stuff, it’s still a form of processing, but it’s more of him processing his ideas and figuring out what he wants the design to be/do. A lot of it tends to reflect how he wants himself or others to change in the future.

That can mean redesigning his costume to be better for rescue work, but sometimes it means drawing up a redesigned version of Izuku’s costume which has better protective features on it, because Katsuki doesn’t know how to express his concern to Izuku in anything even approaching a healthy way, but he knows how to design better arm and leg guards. That’s much easier.

The only thing he never draws is himself. No part of him is included in his sketches, only ever the world around him. Even when he designs new upgrades and versions of his costume, there’s no Katsuki inside the costume.

He doesn’t like to think about why he doesn’t draw himself. It’s a line he doesn’t cross. Deviling too deep into feelings and ideas he isn’t ready for.

Drawing is a quiet period for him, time when he lets himself be alone with his thoughts and his feelings. And those are not thoughts and feelings he wants to deal with.

In the Katsuki Hakamata AU, that starts out being times when he’s truly alone and knows nobody else can come in and see him drawing. It’s one of the few times he’ll actually feel safe and let himself experience his emotions properly. So much of his life is spent shoving his emotions down and pretending that he doesn’t have them, that having a bit of time to himself to feel those emotions again is vital for him. Only ever when he’s sure he’s alone though, and nobody else will know he has feelings. It’s too dangerous otherwise.

But slowly that changes. As he learns other methods of emotional processing, and as he learns to open up and trust others again, he starts drawing around other people. Art is still a very important moment of reflection for him, but it’s a form of reflection that he can share with other people too.

With enough time, his class adjusts to Katsuki drawing around them. People learn quickly that if he’s drawing, he’ll be fairly quiet and focused on it. They can ask him questions about the artwork if they want, he may or may not feel up to telling them, but often times he will. They always try not to bother him with questions about other stuff though, otherwise he might lose focus.

It takes until well into their second year before Katsuki feels comfortable enough with his classmates and his artwork to start giving it to people.

Obviously it starts with the designs. He knows he’s good at designing shit, and he’s got god knows how many different designs for various people tucked away. Hell he’s made designs for heroes he’s never met before just because the idea struck him. The support department loves and hates him for all the designs he’s got for his own stuff. And some things about his classmates’ costumes or items were bothering him too much to stay quiet about.

So he gets proper blueprint paper, double checks all the support department’s regulations and design rules even though he knows them all by heart, and he draws up a few improvements and new items. New padding and bracing for Izuku because holy shit he needs it. A better electricity regulator for Denki because he’s been zapping himself more lately and Katsuki might be a bit worried about that. Some hidden weapons for Ochako, because she’s got those so many damn places to hide them and Katsuki knows she’d put those weapons to good use.

Once he’s got the first round of designs done, he’s not quite sure how to give them to the others. He doesn’t want to have to explain shit, and he’s already feeling kinda embarrassed about it.

So he.... doesn’t. Kinda. Katsuki slips the drawings under their doors when he knows they’re out instead. Each tucked into a nice envelope and address to them. They’ll still know it’s from him, because of course it is, but this way he doesn’t have to figure out what to say.

That becomes his new routine, slipping drawings under his classmates’ doors with upgrade ideas for them. They always thank him, with big smiles and hugs and excited chattering. He’ll huff at them and look away, but he still loves seeing them using the new stuff. It makes a warm feeling bubble up in his chest when he’s out on the field and sees something he designed come in handy.

It’s not always just his classmates either. He may’ve designed better eye guards for Aizawa-sensei, ones with built in eye drops to make it easier on him. Just maybe. Hawks finds designs for a jacket that’s easier on his wings on his desk.

All-Might’s not a hero anymore, so he doesn’t need any support weapons or costume changes. But when winter comes around, and cold starts to burrow it’s way into his old bones, he finds a thick homemade scarf on his desk in the teacher’s lounge. It’s extremely warm, and he knows who made it, even if there’s no note. He wears it all winter and well into spring, and doesn’t miss how young Katsuki’s face seems to soften a bit when he sees it.

It’s not until their third year that Katsuki works up the courage to give away some of his art that isn’t a design. To anyone other then Auntie Inko that is.

The very first gift to is to Aizawa, at the start of the school year, when Katsuki can already see the nostalgia creeping into his teacher’s gaze, his preemptive worry over his kids heading out into the ‘real world’ even though he knows they’ve been there for a long time. 

He goes through his sketchbook and he picks out the very best of his pieces, those of his classmates and his teacher. Sure, he’s got more of some people then others, but he tries to keep it an even amount of each person. Some of the pieces need little touch ups or fixing before he’s happy with them, but once he is, he makes copies of each piece for his own collection, and the originals are bound together into a careful book.

This time he doesn’t leave it on Aizawa’s desk like he might a design. This is too important for that. He can’t quite look Aizawa in the eye when he hands it to him after class, but he does manage to mutter out a “Happy last year with this hell class.”

He doesn’t stay to see Aizawa’s reaction, but his teacher finds him afterwards and hugs him anyways. He tells Katsuki that he loves it, but comments very lightly that there’s someone missing from it. Katsuki knows, but he doesn’t have an answer for that yet.

Other people start getting artwork from Katsuki after that. They usually get copies rather then the originals, and it’s usually artwork of them. Izuku is the exception, he always gets the original copies because Katsuki knows he likes those. Most of it is just memories that he thinks they’ll want to hold onto.

Tsunagu gets drawings, of course he does. It’s less then Katsuki gives to other people, because if he’s giving artwork to his dad then he wants it to be good, but he still gets some. Tsunagu treasures each piece, but he notices the same pattern Aizawa does.

There’s pieces of Tsunagu in battle, pieces of him on his own, or with Kugo, or Hawks, and even one of him sitting beside Aizawa. Pieces of him rescuing civilians, or holding various children he’s met. But none of him and Katsuki. None of Katsuki at all.

He doesn’t press at it, but he mentions it offhand every so often. Gentle as he can be.

Katsuki knows, and it’s not until he’s almost graduated that he finally works up the courage to do what he hasn’t managed since he was a child.

He’s been working on the piece all year. His very first piece that isn’t a memory, isn’t a scene from real life or a future design. Something created from his own mind. It’s a big one. It’s got all his classmates in it. Aizawa-sensei. Mic-sensei. All-Might. Eri. His dad. Auntie Inko. Kugo. Hawks. Everyone’s there. Most of it is done, most of it but not the center, the focal point of the piece.

Drawing himself into the piece, one in which everyone is smiling and happy, had felt wrong each time he picked up his pencil. Felt like a lie, felt like he was sullying something perfect with something that didn’t belong.

Even now as he sketches himself into the picture, the last person missing from it, it still feels wrong. But he does it anyways. He pushes past the clench of his chest and reminds himself that he belongs here. He belongs in the picture too, smiling like everyone else is.

It takes longer then he would’ve liked, but he finishes the piece. When he puts down his brushes, done with the coloring at long last, and he takes it all in, that’s when it feels right. To see himself smiling with his family all around him.

Each person in the photo gets their own copy of it, each person but Tsunagu, who gets the original which he gets framed and is hung up in his living room. Katsuki doesn’t keep a copy of it for himself, he doesn’t need to. If he ever feels like seeing it, then all he needs to do is go visit any member of his weird, giant, amazing family.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

‘your tie is crooked.’ - starker wedding, maybe?

The One I’ve Been Dreaming Of 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~5K  Notes: I kind of gave you a wedding! Maybe I’ll write a second part to this, who knows. Thanks for the prompt, nonnie! Warnings: it’s very soft, watch your step.  Summary: 

Peter Parker meets Tony Stark when he manages to snag a booth spot at the notorious Stark Expo. Cuteness ensues.

do the thing, send in all the prompts 

During his sophomore year of college, Peter Parker met Tony Stark. He’d been working day and night for the entire semester to get his biodegradable fluid turned containers done in time to get them into the Stark Expo – Peter managed to barely sneak in, but he did it. In all of his years being in New York, Peter had only heard stories about the big collection of incredible inventions and technological advances, and he couldn’t wait to be a part of it.

So nervous leading up to the day, Peter didn’t secure any tickets for any of his friends or May – they all looked at him like he stabbed them in the back, so he went about trying to fix the problem. The ability to flash his badge at the door and get immediate entry into the expo hall made his heart race. It still blew his mind, the fact that he managed to create something good enough to snag booth space in one of the greatest tech expos in the entire world.

In all of his star struck glory, Peter lost track of where he was – his wandering eyes and overactive mind couldn’t focus on just one thing. The booths were pretty much ready for the opening the next day, so he looked his fill with no one around to watch him – or so he thought, at least.

“You know, the expo doesn’t start until tomorrow,” Peter heard from behind him. Turning quickly, Peter couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped. Tony Stark stood there in the flesh, his hands stuffed into well cut suit pants. His deep brown eyes were taking him in, a definitive curiosity settling within them.

Shaking himself, Peter shifted on his feet, his fingers fiddling with the ID badge around his neck. “Mr Stark, I –“

Tony spoke up suddenly, his voice on the right side of demanding. “Tony, please. None of that Mr. Stark bull shit,” Tony said, one of his hands coming out of his pocket to gesture in front of him. Peter watched the movement with wide eyes, his lips turning up in an amused grin.

“Tony, then. I’m Peter Parker, sir. I came in hopes of securing a few guest passes for a few of my adoring fans – this is the first time any of us have gotten this close to something so cool, everyone is pretty excited.” Peter found himself wondering why in the world he let all of that come out of his mouth, but it was out there now. It’d been a long time since word vomit came around and kick him in the face. Clenching his jaw, Peter fiddled with the badge a little more – idle hands were the bane of his existence.

“Oh, you brought in that biodegradable fluid that has bunch of purposes, right? Pepper showed me that one specifically a few days ago,” Tony admitted, his posture relaxing now that they seemed to be in more familiar territory. “What booth number are you? I want to stop by and hear the whole spiel.”

Taken aback, Peter caught himself smiling, his neck tingling from the praise he received from someone who didn’t know him from Adam. “Really? I mean – I’m in the C section at booth 109. The holoscreens you’re letting us use made putting my presentation together a total blast.” Peter didn’t mean to gush, but he spent so much time uploading his blueprints and making them presentable on the multi-dimensional tablets. Tony Stark was an absolute genius and Peter was not afraid to marvel in his presence.

“I’d be honored if you came and listened, Tony,” Peter added after a moment of silence between them. He felt a rush of heat move across his face and down his neck – the words were some of the boldest he’d ever let pass across his lips.

For the first time since stumbling upon the man, Peter recognized the look that passed across his face – Tony Stark blew up magazine covers with the most divine shit eating grin; having it projected at him seemed like a bit too much. Sucking in a breath, Peter passed the toe of his shoe across the floor, his entire body on fire from the intensity of the look.

“Count me in, Peter Parker. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tony shot him a wink and kept heading down the row and back towards the exit. Peter had to stand around for a couple of minutes before he could force his legs to move. He wasn’t sure what made him feel more winded, the fact that he ran into Tony Stark, or the fact that the gorgeous genius promised to stop by his booth. Either way, Peter knew he needed to make sure his presentation was spot on – so he headed back to his dorm room, determination fueling him.

It didn’t cross his mind that he forgot the guest passes until he was standing in line with Ned, MJ, and May the next day – the three of them buzzing with excitement. He spent the entire time they waited trying to figure out a way to get them in without causing a commotion – it seemed a little bit too late to tell them he’d been irresponsible because a gorgeous man stood 20 feet away from him and smiled so nicely.

Getting to the door, Peter gave the man at the door his name and flashed him his badge – he felt the tension of trying to come up with a lie in his jaw, his teeth grinding slightly. After a few seconds of looking at the list, the security guard shuffled through a couple of white envelopes and handed one that said P. Parker to Peter. Inside were 5 guests passes and a note.

Thought you might need these. See you later.

TS

Peter let out a huge sigh of relief and chalked the racing of his heart up to the endorphins rushing through him – it totally wasn’t the care in which Tony took to get him something he mentioned in passing – not that at all.

He quickly pulled three of the passes out, giving one to each of the people surrounding him. Walking forward to get them out of the line, Peter stopped everyone before they entered the big expo center. “Those will get you into everything except the backstage stuff. Have fun – but don’t forget to come watch me give my presentation at 2:30. Familiar faces in the crowd would be very much appreciated.” 

MJ and Ned scattered quickly, the two of them looking at the badges around their neck the same way Peter did his the first time he saw it. Before leaving herself, May pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re going to kill it. Just let that nerdy little brain go and everything will be perfect.” She gave his arm a soft punch, then turned on her toes and headed through the door into the lively expo center, leaving him to it.

Walking in, Peter was totally astounded by the difference a few hours made – the lights were bright and people were pressed into the space ass to elbows. Suddenly glad he got to see some of the stuff while it was still calm, Peter tucked his head down and headed towards his booth. He wasn’t the only person that wasn’t totally up and running yet, but he hurried, anyway. The mass of people moving up and down the line of booths were people he could convince and impress – the quicker that happened for him, the better off he was.

It took him a couple of people to really warm up to the bouncing around the booth thing. Many people asked the same question, so he came up with a little rhetoric that would cover all of the basic things. There were only a few people that were genuinely interested – Peter spent a lot of extra time and energy talking with those people. It was exhausting, trying to stretch his brain in so many different directions.

Thankfully, Peter got to take a 20-minute break before his presentation – he capitalized on it by sucking down a Dr. Pepper and stuffing two Snickers bars into his mouth. The rush of sugar hitting him peaked right around the time he flicked his fingers across the front of the holoscreen to wake it up.

Before he started to talk, Peter felt a familiar stare on him – he looked up to find Tony Stark inconspicuously standing amongst the crowd. Tony threw Peter that same wink from the day before and nodded his head. To say he wasn’t waiting to see if Tony would actually show up would be a total lie. 

The drumming of his heart against his ribcage slowed down, but only just slightly. A whole new set of nerves were trying to make their way to the forefront – having Tony Stark listen to something he spent so much time and energy on seemed like a pretty huge deal.

By the time Peter really got going, though, he totally forgot about the fact that there was a crowd around him – he simply talked about the science he’d been working on for a long time. He knew everything about the fluid he randomly stumbled upon during AP Organic Chemistry his senior year. Talking about it was easy and the more that came out of his mouth, the more natural it all became.

Wrapping up, Peter finally tore his eyes way from the incredible piece of technology housing his life’s work and locked eyes with Tony once again. This time, he grinned widely – the stealthily charming way his face changed from one emotion to the other practically kicking Peter right in the teeth. It took a second for him to catch his breath – human people shouldn’t be allowed to look that good.

The act of shaking everyone’s hand took up his attention almost immediately after breaking eye contact with Tony – he was swarmed by people dropping names and credentials like it meant anything to him. Peter simply gripped their hands, tried to pay attention as much as possible, and took the business card he was given. Though he knew he’d never use any of them, the thought of people being interested in his creation was a rather nice one.

May, MJ, and Ned all pulled him into a hug when they eventually made their way to the front of his booth. Over the past couple of years, Peter used the three of them as a sounding board every time he got stuck, or just needed to run through his findings again. 

None of them needed to hear his presentation – they lived through it. Regardless, he was happy to have the support; even if their presence was entirely because of the man who’d been hanging back, obviously waiting for a free second to approach him.

Finally, after what felt like way too long, Tony Stark was standing in front of him. It took Peter a few seconds to collect himself enough to actually get words out of his mouth. “Thanks for coming,” Peter decided on, slipping a hand into the space between them.

Tony took it without hesitation – his fingers were warm and covered in callouses, the fact that he did his own work apparent in the well-worn nature of his palms and fingertips. More than beauty, then.

“Wouldn’t have missed it. You’ve got something interesting on your hands, Pete. With a little bit more funding and some better equipment – you could really have something.” Tony only dropped his hand then, Peter’s skin on fire from the tight grip and intense ‘zing’ that shot through him. Despite being covered by purple glasses, Tony’s eyes were recognizably watching him, the depth of their brown only enhanced by the darkness of the lens.

Peter let the words sink in now that the distracting touch wasn’t pumping liquid fire through his veins. Tony Stark, greatest brain in the world, thought he had something. What could that possibly mean? Peter knew the direction he wanted to take the biodegradable fluid, but also wanted to be the one to take it there. Whatever it was – the simplistic idea that Tony thought it was good seemed like more than enough.

“Probably the coolest thing I’ve ever heard,” Peter babbled, a hot blush slipped across his cheeks as he spoke, but he couldn’t even help it – this entire interaction seemed like a dream.

A deep laugh settled in the space between them, Peter reddening further when he realized just how nice the sound actually was. It pulled a bubble of excitement and laughter from Peter’s chest, too – the collection of sound immediately absorbed in all the madness surrounding them. He tried not to smile too widely – the last thing Tony Stark needed was another person gushing over him.

Which made the next thing to come out of Tony’s mouth a total surprise. “I’d love to hear more about it. And you, honestly. Any big plans after the expo hall closes tonight? Or could I possibly steal you away for dinner?”

Eyes bugging widely, Peter looked at him incredulously. When Tony didn’t put his hands up in jest, Peter let a huge smile spread across his face. The answering one from Tony himself was even better. Sucking in a breath, Peter didn’t spend another second hesitating. “No – no big plans. I would love to be stolen away for dinner.”

Thinking quickly, Peter took a pen from the table next to him and pulled Tony’s hand to him. Tony stared at him for a second, then spread his finger, turning his palm up – what Peter was about to do becoming apparent. “I’ll be here until 8. Let me know where to meet you.” He wrote his number carefully, leaving no room for confusion.

The smile they shared made Peter’s heart beat a little faster. Tony’s face was split wide by the smile, his cheeks crinkling at the corners from the force of it. His eyes got a little squinty, like he was staring at something bright instead of Peter himself. It felt like a long time before either of them moved a muscle – Tony finally stepped away, the hand with Peter’s number waving back at him as he retreated.

A few minutes later, Peter’s text message notification went off. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Peter found himself beaming.

Maybe – Tony Stark: Meet you at your booth when you’re done. Maybe – Tony Stark: Looking forward to it.

Quickly adding his contact, Peter glanced up at the time and let out a long breath – he still had 5 hours to get through.

----

After street tacos from a food truck a little outside the Brooklyn area code, Peter had a hard time not falling heels over head in love with Tony. The recognizable nerves in Tony’s eyes when he pulled his fancy car up to the slightly sketchy looking eatery made Peter laugh – he reached over and grabbed Tony’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “This is perfect.” Peter reassured, his stomach grumbling in agreeance. “How’s their barbacoa?”

From there, things took off without much of a hitch. It took Peter a while to get used to the fact that every single one of his moves with Tony was highly publicized – the idea of being famous was not one he ever played around with before. There were a few moments of doubt that put a bit of separation between them, but even then, Peter was unable to stay away. Tony’s patience and the respect he gave to Peter’s feelings spoke much louder than the clicks of paparazzi cameras.

The minute Peter finally gave himself to all that surrounded Tony, things between them got so much better. Tony took him in and showed him so many things about life that Peter couldn’t have possibly imagined. They shared the lab where Peter had access to everything he could’ve possibly needed to transform and adapt his biodegradable fluid. And when he was stuck or at the end point of one of his experiments, Tony would gesture him over and catch him up on whatever he’d been working on.

They did lots of things outside of the lab, too. In the many moments they spent together, Peter got to see a side of Tony that no one else did. He’d been around Tony and Pepper together and Tony and Happy to know that he kept walls up the entire time. Regardless of the fact that those two people were some of his oldest and closest friends, they weren’t privy to the final and most essential piece of Tony – the enormous heart that resided in the darkest confines of his chest.

During the still times with the older man, Peter learned that he snuffled in his sleep and when he was really tired, he’d talk about the experiment on his mind or recite words in Italian. Every now and again, Peter was conscious enough to put the word in his notes to be looked up later. Tony liked to be held when nightmares caught up to him and played the big spoon all other times – which was fine, Peter was not opposed to being held tightly against the warmest chest he’d ever encountered.

Physicality wasn’t instantaneous between them, either. Peter had to admit that he appreciated the restraint – getting to know Tony without putting the barrier of raging hormones between them to begin with made it even better when it did eventually happen.

In his teenage years, Peter was always embarrassed to admit that he kept his virginity – it seemed like a turnoff to the more mature people he always wanted to attract. Handing it over to Tony, however, felt like passing off something special – his boyfriend approached the situation with knowledge and care; Peter didn’t think many people could say their first time was THAT good.

Once Peter got the itch for pleasures of the flesh, they were all over each other. The 6 months it took for them to actually come together in that way was cherished – Peter got to know the little things before his brain became a beacon for insatiable want and desire. The way Tony made him feel was a welcome distraction and the final straw that broke into pieces to open up the dam of feelings he’d been doing his best to keep in check.

Tony took him out to celebrate finishing the semester about a year into their relationship – Peter only had one more year left and couldn’t wait to be done. A part of him wanted to take the many job offers Tony whispered in his ear when he amazed him in the lab, or when they discussed the homework that got progressively harder the further into his degree that he got. The part that always won out wanted to be absolutely prepared for it, though, and knew he wouldn’t be until he at least had a platform to stand on.

For once, Peter let Tony take him to a fancy place – he aced all 21 hours he took that semester, so it only seemed appropriate. In New York’s finest Italian establishment, Tony got them a private table in a fancy room attached to the main dining area. The table looked tiny compared to the empty space around them. The hostess left them with a nod – there wouldn’t be any menus that night, they were in for whatever the chef’s special was.

The conversation was easy, Peter listened to Tony recall a disgruntlement between Pepper and Happy, his cheeks alive with the smile that slipped across his face. Comfortability looked good so good on him. Reaching across the table, Peter grabbed Tony’s hand, a look of adoration slipping across his face. Tony quirked his head, a question in his gaze. “What?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders, his grip on Tony’s hand tightening a little. “Nothing. How good you look just caught me off guard.” His voice was level, the words obviously genuine.

Soft lips on his hand sent a shiver down the length of his spine. Peter shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping him. “That’s so cheesy.” Tony said as he pulled away, his smiling growing. “I could say the same for you, though. Your excitement is written all over you.”

“Good – I’m happy. Finding success and being in love agrees with me.” Peter held his breath, mentioning love hadn’t been the plan, but it couldn’t seem to be helped. The red wine they were sipping on loosened his lips and the openness of his heart made it that much easier. He didn’t have any intention of going anywhere. The feeling was only going to get more intense – the depth of it different with each passing minute. Why not admit it? 

“It does – there are times when it’s devastating, how beautiful you truly are lit up like this,” Tony replied softly. It pulled the breath from his lungs, how earnestly Tony said those words. He pulled off his glasses for the first time all evening, the molten brown of his eyes shining. “I love you, Pete. I’m in love with you. In that weirdly desperate sort of way. Have been for a while, too. A long while.” Tony disguised the vulnerability of his words with a chuckle, his hand tightening within Peter’s grip.

Grinning widely, Peter started to babble – “Same. Me too – I mean, I love you, too. So much. It’s insane, being with you – but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And there wasn’t – no matter how much MJ and Ned fought against the age gap between them. To Peter, age was just a number and there wasn’t anything that was going to convince him otherwise. Tony kept up with him and when he couldn’t, he stood back and let Peter do his thing – no matter what age, doing something like that was hard for any person. Despite the labels that floated around Tony’s head, Peter knew better and understood Tony’s tendencies and attitudes. There were certain things that would always protect a person – and Tony chose walls to build as his.

Taking the time to look behind them was a challenge that Peter was more than willing to take on – the things he discovered when doing so were more than worth it.

When the moment he’d been hoping for since they met came, Peter said yes without hesitation. It wasn’t grand or out in the open, the way Tony asked him to be his husband. They were sitting out on the balcony after a last-ditch effort meal they threw together with the remaining goods in the refrigerator, clearing space for the food delivery set to come the next day. Tony poured them an aged scotch and they curled up in the swinging seat they built themselves.

Peter leaned into the weight of Tony’s arm around him, his head settling against his chest. It’d been a while since they got to do anything other than pass each other by, so it felt stupidly good to be butted up against his greatest comfort source. A soft sigh left his lips, his chest relaxing for the first time in days.

“This is nice,” Peter said – the silence around them seemed to absorb the words, adding them to the atmosphere they created in the little bubble they were existing in in that very moment.

Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead, the scratch of his goatee making Peter’s eyes close, the touch enticingly familiar and soothing. “Everything about this, us, is nice, Pete. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Tony tugged him a little closer as he spoke.

The words took his breath away, but they were only the beginning. “I’ve had this thing in my pocket for months now,” Tony remarked as he shifted a little, a black box coming into view. Strong fingers flipped it open – a damascus steel wedding band sat within it. “I can’t even remember what I was waiting for, but it seems silly now. I want this forever, Pete – the ease and comfortability and passion that exists between us. Does that sound okay? Will you be my husband?”

Peter looked between Tony and the most unique ring he’d ever seen. Without thought, he nodded his head – “Yeah, yes – of course!” Peter put his untouched drink down on the ground and used his free hands to grab Tony’s face and press their lips together.

It took a few minutes to pull away from each other, Tony insistently kissed him the second their lips touched – Peter could feel the rush of so many emotions releasing in the caress. He kept his grip on Tony tight, Peter unwilling to let him get away. When the need for oxygen finally forced the issue, Tony sat back, pulling Peter’s hand with him, slipping the ring onto his finger. The swirl of the two metals together looked like an optical illusion against the paleness of his skin.

Tony pulled Peter’s hand to his lips and placed a kiss against the ring resting on the skin of his third finger.

“Forever it is then.”

----

The actual planning of the wedding was a lot more exhausting than Peter initially figured. Pepper, the beautiful human that she was, took care of a lot of it – she had friends that were wedding planners, so the most stressful things were handled flawlessly. It was the little things, however, that tripped them up the most. Tony wanted whatever Peter wanted, and that made deciding twice as difficult.

For the most part, Peter worked on instinct. He knew Tony’s favorite color was a dark red, which went perfectly with the gray of the suits he had in mind. The idea of having too many flowers anywhere near the place he said ‘I do’ made his stomach turn, so he focused on the food and alcohol choices that seemed a little more necessary. All of the extravagance seemed a little silly when Peter would’ve married Tony in a paper bag if that was the only option – but he knew tying himself to Tony Stark came with obligations, starting with a wedding that people could be seen at.

Despite that, Peter kept the guest list pretty small and decided to keep it simple and have it on the penthouse level of Stark Tower were they’d slowly been making a home for the last couple of years. A moving crew came in two days before the ceremony and removed all the furniture in the living room, dining room, and kitchen – the space now empty and equipped for the eclectic collection of foods that would be offered after their brief ceremony.

Before anyone knew it, they were getting ready for the small rehearsal dinner that May insisted she help with. Thankfully, Peter managed to cut the guest list down to their immediate friends making it much easier to handle. There were going to be more than 100 pairs of eyes staring at him the next day, the less people he needed to deal with the night before, the better.

Peter spent an extra couple of hours in the lab before going up to get ready – his mind was delightfully clear after getting his hands dirty. The stress he’d been feeling started to boil down into nothing the closer it got to marrying Tony. It’s what he wanted – a forever with the person that made him the happiest. No matter what happened that evening or the next day, getting to call himself a Stark at the end of it all was the only thing that mattered.

Tony ended up having a meeting until right before dinner, so his presence in the bathroom while Peter finished up getting ready made him jump. “Tony – holy shit!” Peter shouted, his voice echoing around them. Arms wrapped hm up, a chuckle huffing against his neck the only answer he knew he was going to get.

“I got done a little early. Thought I’d see how you were handling the suit,” Tony muttered, his lips moving across the length of Peter’s neck as he spoke. His hands moved down the length of Peter’s jacket, and across the crisp leather belt holding custom fit trousers. “Looks pretty good, except – “

Quick hands turned him around, Peter grinning when he came face to face with Tony’s dark eyes and soft smirk. “Your tie is crooked.” He worked the knot until it rested on the hollow of Peter’s throat, his fingers caressing the skin there. He was decked out in the dark red Tony liked, his shirt, vest, and tie etched with black seams and outlines. Tony wore black with the same shirt, vest, and tie combination. They looked like they went together.

Leaning forward, Peter stole a kiss from Tony before the man could even reciprocate. He pulled the sides of Tony’s coat closed and patted his stomach, affection dripping from him. “I can’t wait to marry you.” He looked Tony straight in the eye, the words somehow more serious that way.

The crinkles at the corner of Tony’s eyes got a little deeper as the happiest smile Peter could remember seeing spread across his face. “Yeah, me either.”

[cozyteez]

prince!yunho, I.

prince yunho of narameth; he's intelligent, he's handsome, he's stoic. outside of the castle walls his suit is always well pressed, his hair is always neatly slicked back, and his chin is always tilted upwards 10 degrees. always put together, always well mannered, all his ducks in a neat little row.

at least, that's the prince yunho the people of narameth know and love.

inside the castle walls, things were a little bit different

-

"a speech!?" pieces of his breakfast spewed from his mouth while some of it lodged itself uncomfortably down his throat

"why?"

"love, it's impolite to speak while you're eating"

his mother, the queen, gently motioned towards the cloth napkin at his left hand

yunho used it to cover his mouth as he coughed some more

"the speech is to be delivered the day before your 21st birthday. the kingdom will be officially recognizing you as an adult, and therefore old enough to be king"

yunho groaned as the king continued

"because of this, you must officially inform the people of your intentions as king for when the time comes - "

"for when the - huh? father, are you unwell? why do i need to talk about what will happen when i become king right now?"

"i'm perfectly fine, i assure you. this is simply a rite of passage. i had to do it, as did your grandfather, and his father, and so on."

his mother chimed in as she noticed yunho getting more and more nervous the longer the king spoke

"yunho, love, listen: this is just a formality. you won't be king for a long, long time..." she took her husband's hand and passed him a loving glance "so just make your speech short and sweet, remember to smile, and i'm sure that everything will be perfectly alright. okay?"

yunho closed his eyes and took a deep breath just as the king's right hand man walked into the breakfast room

"good morning your majesties." he bowed slightly at the waist "i have today's schedule whenever you're ready to hear it"

"we're ready, go ahead"

"there's a meeting with architecture at 10:30, then lunch with all of the department heads at 12:30. the afternoon is free for the king and the queen. as for the prince, you are expected in the medical wing for training after lunch until dinner, which will be served at 6pm."

"thank you" the queen smiled sweetly to him "you're dismissed"

"yunho, finish getting ready and we'll see you in the meeting with architecture"

"yes father"

yunho pushed his chair back before standing up to go to his room, tripping a little bit over his own feet in the process

"remember to be 10 minutes early love"

he turned around and nodded at his mother, who was still holding his father's hand with the slight smile on her face that never seemed to go away

as soon as yunho got to his room he flopped onto his bed and rubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. he laid there staring up at the ceiling for probably too long, because before he knew it the castle clocks struck 10 and he was reminded of the meeting he was expected at in 30, no, 20 minutes. he quickly sat up at the realization before a wave of calmness washed over him. the meeting was with architecture, which meant xenia would be there. she'll know what to do, he thought. she always does.

he quickly got on a casual suit and haphazardly slicked his hair out of his face before speed walking down to the business floor into the meeting room.

by the time he walked in not only were his parents there, but xenia and some members of the architecture team were setting up their presentation

"nia!"

"yunho!"

she quickly snapped her head up from some blue prints she was looking over and smiled warmly at him as he began to walk over to her

"hey are you free this afternoon? my father just told me something at breakfast and i really need to talk to you about it"

her smile faded and so did his, knowing what that meant

"i'm sorry, i'm absolutely swamped today with the proposal of the new corridor and everything, but i think i'm free tomorrow?"

"so you become a board member of architecture and suddenly you're too busy for me, hm?" he smiled as he ran his fingers over the blueprints, pretending he understood them

"yunho...."

"i know, i know. just please tell me as soon as you're free, okay?"

"of course, your highness"

she dramatically curtsied as yunho rolled his eyes and went to take his seat

soon enough, the rest of the architecture board and the king's advising panel shuffled in and took their seats as well

the meeting went by quickly, everyone was on board with the new corridor and there were little modifications to be made

everybody was impressed, especially since this was xenia's first time presenting as a board member at only 20 years old

but yunho wasn't at all surprised, xenia's always been crazy smart. she came to the castle after she had just turned 5, a month after yunho's 5th birthday. her parents were hired onto the castle staff simultaneously, her mother as a maid and her father as a cook. at the time, xenia and yunho were the only people under 20 years old living in the castle, so naturally they became inseparable. you could never find one without the other far behind.

the nickname "nia" was actually coined by yunho the day they met. back then, he had a hard time pronouncing certain sounds, including the "z" sound, so it was just easier for him to call her nia. to this day yunho is the only one who calls her that.

when they were growing up, yunho and xenia did quite literally everything together. their teacher would come on weekdays to give them their daily lessons, and in the evenings they'd run around the castle grounds together and get into all sorts if trouble

when they were about 14, a new 16 year old boy moved in and a couple months later some sisters who were 12 and 13 moved in as well. by the time they were 18 there were around eight kids in the castle in total, but they remained by far the closest of all of them

in the past couple of years though it's gotten a little bit more difficult to spend as much time together as they used to. in narameth, once you turn 18 you must pick a specialty and begin your training in that field, and in the castle it was no different.

yunho and xenia were both naturally very intelligent people, but due to the competitive nature of their friendship they grew up to be extremely knowledgable, well-rounded young adults and therefore had their pick of whatever specialty they wanted to go into.

xenia was good at everything, but she absolutely loved and accelerated in mathematics. so with her additional infatuation with art and design, it was only natural for her to go into architecture.

yunho on the other hand was better at natural sciences. besides the fact that he's always been fascinated with "gross stuff" as xenia always says, he genuinely enjoys helping people. maybe it's because of his benevolent mother, his expectations as a royal, or a combination of the two, but helping and caring for people is so natural to him that it felt wrong to even consider any other specialty

so, while both yunho and xenia are thriving in their careers, the lack of downtime was beginning to weigh on them a little bit. not only were they dedicated to their training, but xenia ended up being so good that they ended her training early to make her a board member and yunho was still expected to complete his tasks as a medical trainee and prince

needless to say, xenia was excited to spend some time with yunho tomorrow. as the meeting began to wrap up, she quickly checked her schedule and scribbled something down on a note before handing it to yunho on her way out

"i've gotta run, but i'll see you tomorrow?"

"yep."

'library tomorrow at 3'

he smiled and shoved the note into his folder as he was being ushered out by his father to the next meeting.

-

yunho bounced his legs up and down as he waited for xenia at their usual spot in the library

'2:52'

he rolled his eyes and kept bouncing

finally, she walked in at 3:06 out of breath with her hair everywhere

"i'm sorry the meeting ran late and then someone stopped me in the hallway and-"

"it's okay, just sit. here."

he passed a lemon cake wrapped in a napkin across the table towards her, which she immediately unwrapped and began to stuff into her mouth. the scene was borderline animalistic, causing yunho to look a little bit disgusted

"what?" her cheeks were so full that he could barely understand her, and yet she managed to fit more of it into her mouth "i didn't eat lunch"

"...anyways, as i'm sure you know my birthday is in exactly two weeks"

"right" some crumbs spewed from her mouth

"well yesterday, my father told me that the day before my birthday i must deliver a speech written by me to the whole kingdom about my intentions for when i become king"

"yeah, and?"

"and? wha - nia, are you kidding me? this is kind of a big deal...."

she swallowed the rest of the cake and wiped her mouth with the napkin, looking far too unbothered for yunho's liking

"you saw this coming though, right? don't you remember when our teacher told us about the coming of age speech when we were like eight?"

"she did??"

"yes, because your face went white and your eyes went wide and i laughed so hard at you"

"well clearly it slipped my mind nia, i've been a little bit busy since then"

"sorry...." she threw her hands up in defense and looked away to not upset him further

"anyways, i need your help"

"mine? why??"

"because you're so put together and you always know what to do! and i'm so..."

he began to make vague hand gestures towards himself

"...you know, like this."

xenia scoffed and rolled her eyes. on one hand, she knew yunho really did need help. he'd sort of always been a mess. but on the other hand she was already so busy and wasn't exactly jumping at the opportunity to have more responsibilities

"fine."

"wait, really?"

yunho's eyes went wide and he couldn't help but smile, causing xenia to smile back

"yes, i'll help you. but if you still end up blowing it up there i'm going to pretend like i've never met you"

"thank you! thank you a thousand times! i'm ignoring that last part!" he jumped out of his chair and knocked it over in the process on his way out of the door. he turned around and started walking backwards "see you tonight then?"

"yeah yeah" xenia waved him off "hey! watch out for that -"

it was too late. he ran straight into a bookshelf and hit his head

"... bookshelf"

he gave her a weak smile and a thumbs up before leaving, this time facing the direction he was walking

it's going to be a long two weeks.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch25: All Dressed Up, Nowhere To Go

Summary: The team work hard to put the events of Sokovia behind them, and Steve and Katie set a date for their wedding. But as the Avengers get to grips with their new base upstate, with Tony retired from active service, Steve finds his time stretched perilously thin between his leadership responsibilities and his soon to be wife...and tempers boil over.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

Warnings: Bad language, HARD Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

 Open For Tags and Suggestions- Ping me an Ask

July 2015

“You’re up early.” Steve said as he dropped onto the swinging chair besides his girl. It wasn’t even 6 am yet but she was sat outside on their patio “You ok?”

“Yeah.” she smiled at him, as he pecked her cheek, looking out over the dimly lit lawn area of the Newly Opened Avengers Facility which swept down to the banks of the Hudson. The Facility had been the product of one of Tony’s crazy brain farts not long after they had come back from Sokovia.

Look, Cap, we're like a trouble magnet," Tony explained animatedly, "Wherever the Avengers are, trouble follows."

"So - you're suggesting we build another building?" Steve rubbed his neck and looked up at the blueprints Tony had now blown up against the wall.

"I'm suggesting we relocate, completely, leave the Tower to Stark Industries and build our own facility and expand." Tony said, flipping through pictures with a sweep of his finger. "We have this this old warehouse upstate, good location, middle of nowhere.”

"Less chance of civilian damage." Steve’s hands fell to the buckle on his belt.

"Full medical wing, Living quarters, as well as a bunch of extra spare apartments, for all the strays we keep accumulating, training arena, kitchen, cafeteria- satellite links- you name it, you got it.”

"How long will it take?" Steve asked and Katie tried not to sigh at the fact that her dream of a quiet life in a nice house in Brooklyn had just blown up in front of her face.

Tony looked affronted. "I’m a billionaire cap, it’ll take however long we say."

Steve looked at Katie who simply shrugged at him, keeping her face passive.  

“Have you two eaten?” she asked, changing the subject.

Tony shook his head as did Steve.

“I’ll fix you both something.” she turned and started moving towards the kitchen area.

“Not for me…” Tony said. “I’ve got a dinner reservation with Pepper at 8…” “Yeah, you might wanna get a move on then, seeing as its 7:30.” she shot over her shoulder.

“What?” Tony glanced at his watch and frowned “Shit…fuck…”

“You kiss Pepper with that mouth?” Steve quipped back, winking at Katie as Tony collected up his laptop and the blue-prints disappeared off the wall.

“FRIDAY why didn’t you remind me?” my brother groaned. “You never asked Boss…” The Irish lilt came back.

“I miss JARVIS…” Tony grumbled, the door clicking shut as he left.

The Facility had been remodelled in record time and whilst some areas were still undergoing renovations, over 80% of it was complete. There had also been changes to their team too. Clint had headed home, the birth of his baby son- Nathaniel Pietro- prompting him to take indefinite paternity leave, all of them fully accepting this was his way of leaving everything behind for good. Thor had left earlier that morning, promising he would return for the Wedding, whenever they finally got round to setting a date. But they still hadn’t heard a thing from Banner and the jet was proving impossible to track. On the plus side, they invited Sam and Rhodey to join the team officially and both had gleefully accepted, along with Vision and Wanda. Lawson was now their chief Technician and Evans had joined the team too, which made Katie happy as she enjoyed their company.

It was starting to grow light, the first rays of sunlight were bouncing off the water to the West. He turned to look at his girl and watched her as she surveyed the river, feet tucked underneath her on the seat.

“No regrets?” he asked, and Katie could feel him studying her face.

“Are you ok, you know, about this move to a new facility?” he asked gently as the pair of them were stood in the kitchen, “I know it’s not exactly the home you had in mind.”

“We’ll be together. That’s all that matters.” Katie shrugged.

“I know but, I just worry sometimes. You deserve better, a quiet life.”

“Not sure we have a choice.” Katie said, concentrating on her task- chopping a pepper up for the couscous salad she was making.

“What was it you said to me all those years ago?” he said, smiling softly “There’s always a choice. You got out of SHIELD, you could get out of this…”

“You know for a moment in Sokovia… “Katie placed her knife down and turned to face him. “I thought… well I thought we weren’t getting out of it alive. And It frightened me, I’m not gonna lie…”

She looked up at him and met his eyes. He knew the whole thing with Ultron and the final show down in Sokovia had shaken her, more than any other mission she’d been involved in. It served as a reminder exactly what is achievable with technology, how fragile humans are, how easily life and peace could be shattered. For that split second, when on that floating city she hadn’t seen a way out, she had genuinely thought their time was up. And her life with Steve cut short before it had even started.

“We stood there, on that rock and in that split second when it seemed everything was lost you know what I felt?” she looked at him and he waited for her answer “Relief. Relief that if we both went down, we did it together and I didn’t have to spend a single day without you…”

“Sweetheart…” Steve began but she carried on.

“I can’t sit by and simply be that girlfriend, that wife even, that waves you off on a mission wondering to myself if it’s the last time I ever see you. I hated doing that when I left SHIELD and I can’t do it anymore…you fight, I fight.” “So what if I quit?” he said, “What if I gave you the life you deserve?” “You can’t quit, and I wouldn’t ask you to.” Katie shook her head “The world needs The Avengers, and the Avengers need their Captain...” “And their Captain needs his girl…” he said, his eyes flashing with something that looked to her a lot like worry. She sighed and crossed the space between them. 

“And she’s not going anywhere…” Katie said gently, standing on her toes to give him a peck

The Avengers depended on Steve as their leader even more so now that Tony had said he was hanging up his Iron Man suits for good, choosing to manage and see over the running of the practical side of things instead of active combat. Ultron had really hit her brother hard, but whilst his way of dealing with it was to call it quits, Steve was the opposite. He wasn’t ready to leave this behind for a quiet suburban life. And if being with him meant Katie had to stay too, then so be it.

So, regrets?

“No” she said, taking his hand in hers as she lay her head against his shoulder. “None at all.”

He smiled to himself as her hand began to play with his, the fingers of her left hand gently tracing across his knuckles, the only evidence of her brutal beating last year was the slightly bent pinkie that no matter how much physio she had, she couldn’t extend it fully.  He still got a cold shiver when he thought about how close he had come to losing her. She sighed softly, and he looked down to see she was looking at their intertwined hands and then it struck him just how much he couldn’t wait to tie himself to her for the rest of his life.

“Let’s get married.” He said gently into her ear.

“I thought we already were…” she said,

“No, I mean let’s do it. Let’s get a date set, the sooner the better. We were supposed to set one months ago and I don’t want to wait any longer.” “Is that what you want?” she looked up at him smiling.

He nodded “More than anything doll.”

“Alright…” she smiled “Let’s do it.” He grinned before his lips met hers, the kiss gentle and soft.

“Any ideas on where?” she asked. As a matter of fact Steve did, the idea had come to him a few days ago, but he wasn’t sure if she was going to go for it.

“Well…I errr…thought, maybe, perhaps we could look at the church my mom used to take me to when I was a kid.” He ran a hand through his hair “That is, if you wanted to.” “Steve that’s a lovely idea.” she smiled and he beamed down at her

“You think?” “Yeah.” she smiled, and it turned out she’d had her own idea for the party too.

“Maybe, we could have the reception here, in the grounds.” she said, looking at him.

“Here?” Steve frowned, he’d assumed she’d want some kind of hotel booking downtown. But as she spoke, he soon realised that what she was saying made perfect sense, and was more them than any flash place they could hire.

“Think about it.” she said, “No security issues, no press, just us, our friends, family… we can get a marquee by the lake…” Katie paused. As a girl she’d always envisaged a huge, fairy tale wedding with hundreds of guests, in The Rainbow Rooms no less. But now, all she wanted was for those people who meant the world to them to be there to celebrate with them.

“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded. “Never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“Then I’m fine with that.” He smiled, gently kissing her again.

“So you wanna go see this church?”  she asked.

“What now? It’s barely light…” “So?” she sat up “I’ll take you to IHOP on the way…” “Now you’re talking…”he grinned.

By the time they had showered, which Steve had suggested they do together, to save water and time (although by the time they had finished there was a lot more water and time used up than if they showered alone) and finally dressed it was gone 8, meaning they hit IHOP at just after half past. As they both stuffed their faces, excitedly talking about their clandestine wedding planning Katie was struck with just how young Steve looked. He was dressed casually in a Dodgers T-shirt, jeans, trainers and a baseball cap, his blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. He was excited.

The church was in a small neighbourhood in Brooklyn and Katie instantly fell in love with the place. St Augustine’s was an old red stone and brick built church with a tall spire. Very Gothic chic, which caught her attention instantly. As Steve climbed out of the car, a rush of memories hit him, the smells, the noises, the sights, everything. It was like he had stepped back in time as he saw his mother grasping his hand softly as she led him up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors. The last time he had set foot in this church, however, had been his mother’s funeral. But now, it was time for something happier.

Steve slipped his arm round Katie.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” Katie said.

Before Steve had chance to reply, a voice with a faint Irish lilt spoke, causing them both to stand and turn to see the Priest walking towards them.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi…” Steve smiled, shaking the priest’s hand “I’m Steve…”

“Rogers, yes I recognised you.” the Priest smiled “Pleasure to meet you Captain.”

Steve shook his hand before the Priest reached out to Katie

“So this would make you Miss Stark?”

“Hi.” she smiled, shaking his hand.

“Charmed…” The Priest smiled, his eyes twinkled as he looked at Katie and she instantly warmed to the man. He wasn’t as old as she had expected, maybe a few years older than Tony, the hair around his temples was greying and his eyes were lined but he had a kind smile.

“So what can I do for you?”

“Well, we…” Steve smiled at Katie before he looked at the Priest. “We’d like to get married here. As soon as we can.” The dark haired man smiled and beckoning for them to follow him to the back of the church “I’m sure we can manage that, let’s see what date’s we have free…”

After chatting to the priest, and settling on a date, Steve was taken by a wave of nostalgia and convinced Katie to drop into the small cemetery on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Weaving their way through the stones he finally stopped in between two well weathered ones, which contained the names of his parents. Crouching down he gently wiped away years worth of grime and he bowed his head, his eyes wet.

“Hey ma.” he said softly, “brought someone to meet you.”

Katie felt the tears springing into her eyes as she crouched next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“She’d be so proud of you, Stevie” she said gently, “They both would”

“I hope so.” he said softly and she reached out to turn his head so he was looking at her.

“Baby, how could they not be?”

She gently kissed him before she stood up and made her way to the car, leaving him alone with his thoughts for 10 minutes or so before he came striding out of the yard, and climbed into the driver’s side.

“Could we, maybe update the stones?” he asked after a moments pause “I mean I didn’t have much money back then and I’d like them to have something a bit more, I dunno…” “Of course we can.” she said, tangling her fingers with his, bringing his hand up to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles “Of course we can.”

******

“31st August?” Natasha frowned. She was the first person after Tony who they told they had set a date.

Katie nodded.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s like…well, it’s weeks away!”

“Look, just be grateful it wasn’t sooner” she said, “The priest originally offered us a date two weeks off which Steve was all for taking until I persuaded him to give us a bit more time.”

“You know you could have set this date months ago.” Natasha rolled her eyes “Yeah, I know. I mean it’s gonna be a bitch to organise. If only I had a really good almost sister-in-law and a best friend with amazing military like planning skills that could also double up as bridesmaids…” Katie said, eyeing her as they walked. Natasha stopped and turned to face her friend. “You mean…” Katie smiled at her and nodded “If you’re up for the job…”

“I’d be honoured…” she stuttered, before pulling her into a hug, which surprised her slightly but she returned it gladly. “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.” “There is one condition…” Katie said looking at her “Can you get Wanda involved in the organisation too? Help her with something other than training or whatever...”

Nat smiled “Sure I can handle that.” Natasha’s response was nothing to the one she got from Tony when she asked him to give her away. 

“You know you’re my dad in every way other than actually being my dad…” she said, her fingers on one hand playing with those on the other as she felt her eyes misting “There’s no other person I’d want to walk me up the aisle…” He instantly teared over and pulled her into a hug, not finding his voice for a good 30 seconds as he silently shed his tears over her shoulder.

“I’d be honoured…”he whispered softly, kissing her cheek.

Steve, however wasn’t having as much luck. Rhody, Clint and Sam all accepted his invitations to be Groomsmen (he sent one to Thor via Jane, who also accepted gleefully with a loud, booming phone call) but he was struggling really to decide who to ask as his best man.

His initial thought had been Tony, despite the fact the two of them bitched and bickered at one another, they were close, almost brotherly close. However, given that Tony was giving Katie away in his role as Father/Brother of the Bride that was out. The next obvious choice was Sam, but it all just felt wrong. He was struggling, coming to terms with the fact that his lifelong best friend wouldn’t be the one to do the job.

“I always thought it would be Buck by my side.” he said, looking out over the lawn as he was sat on the patio one evening with Katie, the pair of them with a beer in hand. “He was, is, my oldest friend.”

“Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known for the longest Steve.” Katie said, shrugging “It’s about who came into your life and never left your side.”

Those words had resonated within him, and he realised they made perfect sense. So in the end he did ask Sam, who accepted gleefully. Although when he caught him and Natasha huddled in a corner, looking at something on his phone one afternoon, the pair of them sniggering like a couple of naughty kids he started to wonder what on Earth he had started.

*****

The weeks were starting to fly by, Katie had known they would do a soon as they fixed a date. Simple things like the Marque was easy to hire, flowers, (she already knew what she wanted) table decorations, all taken care of by Pepper and her excellent organisational skills. What she hadn’t done was given any thought to what her dress would be like, or what the fuck she was going to do with her last name. The latter of these questions, however, was answered late one Thursday afternoon in the first week of August.

Katie led Steve up into the elevator selecting the right floor and once they reached it she stepped out. She passed the rooms on either side showing Steve where the rest of her editorial team were, the conference rooms and when they reached the door at the end of the short hall she swiped her badge, placing her hand to the pad at the side.

“Good afternoon Miss Stark.” FRIDAY greeted her, the door clicking open. She walked in, Steve following as she headed over to the giant mahogany desk.

"So?" she grinned, flinging her arms wide. "What do you think?"

He raised his eyebrows appraisingly as he slowly looked around the room. It was about twice the size of her last office in the tower – and the small office at the compound. It still smelt of new carpet with a hint of fresh paint.

His eyes land on a small grouping of framed photos on one of the shelves and he moved over to look at the pictures. He paused at one in particular, pulling it from the shelf. It was an old black-and-white of him pre serum, the one attached to his file. In it he’s looking at something, something off camera, dog tags hanging over the top of his white t-shirt. Katie watched as he ran his thumb over the frame, far away smile playing on his mouth. She jumped off the desk and headed towards him.

"That's one of my favourites," she said, and he started a little, turning to face her “You just look so… I dunno, cute?” “Cute?” he asked, snaking an arm round my waist.

“Yeah, cute…” she confirmed as he pulled away and set the frame back on the shelf.  "I love it."

"Now this one," he said, pointing at the next photo. "This one, I love."

Katie looked at the photo of the two of them, a selfie, taken on her 30th last year, just before he proposed. The pair of them just look ridiculously happy, normal.

“Yeah, it was a good day.” I smiled

"Yeah, didn’t I ask you a question?" He pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck

“Think you did, yeah.”

He trailed a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone, giving a quick nip before he frowned at another picture. It was of him, Tony and Katie stood with their arms folded looking at a screen, each of their intent, focused expressions mirroring the others. "When was that taken?" he asked, a bit bewildered.

“I dunno.” she shrugged.

“I took it.” A familiar voice said and the 2 of them spun to see Pepper. “The 3 of you just looked ridiculously alike, it made me laugh”

“I do not look like her.” Tony was behind her as he glanced at Steve, then her and then Pepper. “What you two doing here?” “Admiring my new office.” Katie shot back. “It is my office after all.” “Fair enough, you like it?” Tony asked.

Katie grinned “It’s amazing, I can’t wait to move in properly.”

“Well…” Tony said, looking round “It’s all yours Kiddo, the rest of the team move in on Monday so…” “Monday it is.” She grinned at her brother. “but there is one thing missing…” “Oh?” Tony quipped

“Yeah, where’s my pretentious name plaque for the door?” “Well, I wanted to ask you what you wanted on it?” Pepper asked. “Stark or Rogers.” Katie bit her lip and Steve side eye her. For a while she’d been wrangling over this. Keep it for work purposes, double barrel or change it. If she was honest, changing it completely made her feel a little, well odd really, like she was losing her identity, in a way. But as she stood there, thinking things over, she thought back to everything they had been through over the past 12 months, she realised suddenly that she was tying herself to Steve for the rest of her life. She was giving him her everything and vice versa. She knew it meant a lot to him, but he still hadn’t pressured her into agreeing to take his name, he had made it clear it was her choice and her choice alone. And suddenly she knew, she knew what she wanted.

“Rogers.” she said and Steve felt his head turn to hers, not quite sure he had heard right. She smiled at him, linking her fingers into his and he returned the grin stupidly because, you know, she wanted to be Mrs Rogers.

“Katie Rogers- Managing Director it is.” Pepper said, as she looked at Tony.

“Told you so.” Tony shrugged before he looked at his sister, and gave her a wink.

***** Katie sat in front of her mirror and did her hair and make-up before she shrugged on the pale pink jumpsuit she’d bought especially for that evening, slipped her feet into her heels and headed to the living room. It was now 6:30, but knowing Steve as she did, he would no doubt barrel through the door in the next 10 minutes, swearing the way he always did when no one else but she could hear him, shower and be ready to go in 15 minutes flat.

She sighed to herself, she’d had the best day today in a long time. It was the first day in ages she’d had off work and she’d managed to buy her wedding dress. Or should that be Tony had bought her wedding dress courtesy of Pepper and a black Amex.  Wanda and Nat had cruised down to Manhatten with he in the Champagne stocked limo, stopping to pick Pepper up on the way. Once in the boutique, it had taken them a while but Katie had finally settled on one, which had literally made her tear up the moment it was fastened.

It was a gorgeous, sweetheart neckline Ivory A-line with lace detailing all-over the bodice which was decorated with crystals. The skirt flared into layer upon layer of tulle decorated with the same lace detailing and beading with the skirt extending into a layered train at the back.

“I…" Katie turned to the assistant who grinned.

“It looks fantastic.”

Katie stepped out to show the girls and all 3 of them simultaneously gave their approval. Pepper’s hand flew to her mouth, Natasha arched an eyebrow and Wanda said something in Sokovian.

“Kiddo…” Pepper said, nodding.

“This is it…” Katie beamed, “Think Steve will like it?” “Sweetheart…” Pepper stood up and wrapped her into a hug “You’ll blow his mind.”

Steve had also had a reasonably productive day. Given that he, Sam and Rhodey were planning on wearing their Military Uniforms for the wedding and that Thor was going to be in his best Asgardian dress gear this only left Clint and Tony to organise for the suits. Katie had already picked them, simple charcoal pinstripes with ivory and gold waistcoats and light blue ties (light blue, pale red and gold were their colours, being a less gaudy variation of red, white and blue which they had agreed on) so this meant all he had to do was sort a fitting for Clint and Tony.

It had been a lot easier than he had imagined, the store already having Tony’s measurements, (because of course he got all his suits from there) and they also had a sister branch about 30 miles from where Clint lived who could sort it for him. So with that done and completed by lunch time his attention had turned to the meetings he had with General Ross and Rhodey about a potential collaboration programme with some of the Armed Forces Specialists. Now he had one final stop to see how the New Recruits for the support team were getting on.

“Hey," Steve said as he strode into the training facility before he smirked and nodded over Sam’s shoulder "I'm assuming you told them to take five?"

A confused frown spread over Sam’s face as he turned to look behind him. Every single one of the recruits was standing right staring wide eyed at the Captain.

“Drills!" Sam shouted “Or you’ll get another 10 laps of the compound!”

“You’ve taken to this training role far too easily.” Steve grinned at him.

“What can I say, I’m a natural born leader.” he grinned “S’up?”

“I’ve been going through the intel on the Cambodia job.” Steve said. “I know the authorities are insisting its some low times arms dealer thinking he can muscle in on someone else’s patch but something smells off.”

“That’s because it is.” Nat said, walking into the gym, tablet in her hand.

“You got something?” Steve asked and she nodded, handing him the item.

“Cross referenced the MO. Matches an attack on an Army Munitions factory in Calcutta. And one in Tayshet, Russia” she said “And this is the culprit.” Steve looked down at the photo up of a man in what looked like a White Hockey Mask.

“He’s calling himself Crossbones.” Nat said as Sam moved to look at the photo.

“Great…another rogue arms dealer.” Steve rolled his eyes.

Sam snorted “What kind of dumbass name is Crossbones?”

Steve sighed and looked at Natasha “We got any info on who he might be?”

“I contacted a few people.” Nat said vaguely. “One of my contacts came through and says he has something but will only speak in person.”

“How soon can we go?” Steve looked at her.

“I’ll talk to them, see what they say.” She said.

Steve nodded “Ok, well I don’t think it needs the full team so me and you will go, Sam you can hold the fort here. We should only be away for a day or two.”

Sam shrugged “You’re the boss.” “I’ll make a few calls, tell them to expect us.” Nat said. Steve nodded and she straightened up. “You talked to Katie?”

“Not since this morning why?” Steve looked at Nat.

“She got a wedding dress today.”

“She did?” Steve’s face softened just the way it did anytime someone referred to their wedding. “Hang on, am I allowed to know that?” “Think it’s pretty safe to know your future wife’s bought a wedding dress, you know, on account of the fact you’ll be getting married soon.” Sam snorted “You’re just not supposed to see it before hand.”

“How long did she take to pick it?” Steve looked at Natasha, a grin on his face. Natasha smirked back at him.

“Not that long, because I’d already rung and told them the type of thing she like so nothing she tried on was hideous to her. We were in there a couple of hours, then went for some lunch and did a bit more shopping.”  

“Good.” Steve nodded. “She’s been working really hard recently so she deserved a day off. I feel like I’ve hardly seen her over the past few weeks with everything that’s been going on.”

Which reminded him, he couldn’t wait to take her out that night for a well overdue evening together. They’d both been so busy with setting up the compound, her business and he was looking forward to them both escaping the hustle and bustle. Which reminded him, he needed to go.

Nodding to the pair of them, smiling as Sam barked another order, he wandered into the corridor. It seemed a lot less busy than usual. Maybe everyone had taken an early finish for some reason, although he couldn’t think why for a Tuesday. He glanced at his watch and gave a start. “Shit…”

They weren’t taking an early dart, he was taking a late finish.

Katie was sat on the couch, shoes long since abandoned along with any hope that they were actually going anywhere, and was half way through a bottle of very expensive Pinot Grigio that she had bought for them to have once they got home by the time Steve blustered into the apartment.

“Shit, shit…baby I am so sorry!” he said, as Katie looked up, not even able to bring herself to be pissed off anymore, she’d been angry about half an hour ago. Now she was just disappointed. “The meeting with Ross and Rhodey took a bit longer and then something came up on the Cambodia thing” he continued, sighing “Time just got away from me.” he stopped as he drew level with the couch “You look gorgeous.” “Shame it was for nothing” she said, rolling her eyes, turning her attention back to the TV and the re-run of Friends she’d been watching but not paying attention to.

“We can still go…”

“There’s no way we’ll make it.” she said, pointing to the clock with her eyes “Its 40 minutes into Manhatten and you need to change.” “I’ll call, push it back…” he said after a moment’s pause. “Just forget it.” she sighed “Honey…” he dropped to his knees in front of her “Don’t be like that…we can go for a drink or something.” “I’m not being like anything.” she snapped back. “You’re the one that told me to ready by 7, well I was…you on the other hand-”

“I know and I’m really sorry.” “I know.” she said, standing up “You said. Look, it doesn’t matter.”

“Katie…” he sighed as he rose to his feet too.

“I’m going to get changed and take a dip in the hot-tub with the rest of this bottle of wine and a manuscript, might as well make the most of my spare time” she said, grabbing the ice bucket as she headed to the hallway “Your presence is not required.”

*****

“Uh oh, what you done?” Natasha asked as she walked into Steve’s office the next morning, finding him browsing delivery sites for flowers.

“Last night was supposed to be Date night.” he muttered with a sigh “I was late, and we missed our reservation. First time I’ve ever done that. Katie was not happy.” “So I suppose now isn’t a good time to as if you’re up for a trip to Russia tomorrow.” Nat said, and he let out a groan. Katie had hardly spoken two words to him all evening and this morning before she had left for her office at the other end of the compound. Today was Wednesday, one of the 2 days out of 5 she worked on SIP stuff during the morning, then trained in the afternoon, a way for her to keep her toes in with the Avengers training.

“You’re right, it’s not.” he said, “But she’s pissed at me anyway so…”

“You sure it’s just about date night?” Nat asked, “Not like her to get so annoyed over something like that, especially if, as you say, you’ve never done it before.” “Well like I said yesterday, this place has been taking up a lot of my time” he said, shrugging “She’s probably feeling a bit neglected. It’s my fault completely.” 

“Well instead of wasting money on flowers…” Nat said, nodding to his screen. “Go and find her now, take her somewhere for the afternoon. I’m supposed to be sparring with her in 15 minutes, we can reschedule.”

Steve hesitated. “What about…” “I can handle the arrangements for Russia.” Nat said, “Just go.”

Katie’s bad mood hadn’t got any better by the time she finished her work for the morning and it got even worse when she reached the door of the main gym area and paused as one of the new recruits, a girl called Jenny Allen, was midway through a full on bitch rant.  

“Who the hell does she think she is anyway? I mean…” “She’s a damned good agent.” Evan’s voice cut her off “One of the best I worked with, one of the most outstanding snipers I know so…” “Yeah well she still shouldn’t just be allowed to dip into missions as and when? I mean, we all train our asses off and she just walks around, like she’s hot shit just because she was trained by some SHIELD legend when we all know the real reason she was pulled into SHIELD and the Avengers in the first place is because of her name…” “You’re out of line…” “And let’s face it, she’s only here now because she’s engaged to Cap, and owns half the gaff…”

“I mean, they are two pretty good reasons” Katie said, pushing the doors open and walking into the gym. She had to give Allen credit, she started bit but then recovered and stood tall.

“Katie, I…” Evans started but Katie cut him off. “It’s ok…she has an opinion, she’s entitled to it. Say what’s on your mind Allen.” “I just…” she took a deep breath “I don’t like the way you seemingly get to swan into missions, with little to no training like the rest of us. It’s dangerous.” “Dangerous?” Katie folded her arms over her chest.

“Yes, dangerous. You don’t know how we operate as a team, I mean are you still versed in hand to hand?” Versed? What the fuck?

Katie raised her eyebrow and smirked at Evans who instantly spotted the look on her face. Fuck this, she’d been waiting to give Allen a smack since she had caught her batting her eyelids at Steve, practically trying to climb him when he’d been running over a report with her. What better way was there to fix a bad mood?

“I tell you what.” Katie said “why don’t we find out? I’m due to spar with Widow but you’ll do.” “I err…” Allen hesitated slightly. “Nova I don’t think that’s a good idea?” Evans cut int. “I mean…” “No.” Allen said, straightening up. “It’s fine…I’m game.” Katie turned to drop her water on a bench and started to wrap her hands in the bandages she had.

“Go easy on her…” Evans whispered in Katie’s ear. She looked at him innocently.

The pair of them started to circle and Katie waited, waited like she always did for her opponent to make the first move. She watched, quickly noting that the woman favoured her right, so she was right handed. She was also a bit taller than Katie, and stockier but that wasn’t an issue, she’d floored Sam before and Evans come to think of it.

As Allen came in with a right lead, Katie ducked and aimed a harsh left jab at her mid-section, causing the woman to let out a gasp of air. She recovered fast, coming in again and Katie moved to the right so the blow glanced off her ribs and aimed a kick to her right knee, causing her to stumble slightly. As she straightened Katie was waiting and landed a hard jab straight to her face, causing her to reel as her nose began billowing crimson. There were hisses from the watching recruits and she vaguely registered Evans to tell her to take it easy but she wasn’t listening. Allen wiped at her face and came at Katie, full on, which was what she had wanted, she’d riled her enough to make her want to fight fierce but as she came Katie threw herself to the left and swept both legs from under her. She crashed to the mat and in an instant Katie had her on her front, knee in her back as she yanked her arms back.

“You’re right…” Katie bent over, lips close to her ear as she struggled, making Katie pull even more “I do own half this gaff, and my brother owns the other half. Something you need to remember when shooting your mouth off, and trying to climb my fiancée in his office…” “I wasn’t-.” she protested and Katie cut her off with another yank.

“If you so much as utter another word commenting on my fighting skills again. I will rip your arms out of your sockets, right before I have you escorted out of my compound, you got that?” “Yeah I got it.”

Steve paused at the sight in front of him. Following Natasha’s advice he’d headed to the gym, ready to take his girl out for the afternoon, only to find her pinning Allen to the floor, the woman’s arms yanked behind her back and her nose bleeding on the mat.

“I tried to stop them…” Evans looked up at Steve who made a noise in his throat and strode towards the two women. “Katie that’s enough!” his voice rang out loud across the gym.  “What the hell is going on?” “Allen had some worries I wasn’t field ready.” Katie let go and easily got to her feet, looking at him, a flash of anger in her eyes, the fact he had used his Captain’s voice on her hadn’t gone unnoticed. “So I offered to show her, put her mind at ease.”

“Yeah well I think you've made your point." he said, looking at Allen as she stood up holding tight to her nose, pressing firmly to either side to try and staunch the flow of blood from the single quick right straight Katie had hit her with before the take down.

“Do you need medical Allen?” Steve asked. She shook her head. He turned his attention to Katie, and glared at her “I don’t know what the hell is going on here…” “I just told you.” she shot back. “I was showing how field versed I was…” “By punching her in the face?” he said, his hands falling to his belt. Katie folded her arms and glared back at him.

“We were sparring.” “You were trying to rip her arms out of the sockets…”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Katie rolled her eyes earning herself a glower, a look which would quell anyone else but not her, she wasn’t scared of him. “Maybe now she’ll think twice about making shitty comments.” “If someone punched you every time you made a shitty comment you’d never get up.” he said back, no trace of humour in his voice, because he didn’t find the issue funny at all. He eyed her again before he nodded to the door “Go.” Was he serious? One look in his eyes told Katie he was. 

“Fine.” she shrugged, picking up her water bottle before she left. Natasha, who noticed the tears in her eyes went to stop her but Katie waved her away. Steve watched her back before he turned to Evans, pointing to Allen

“Patch her up and then I’ll see both of you in my office. AND GET BACK TO WORK!” he bellowed round the room.

Evans and Allen both nodded and left.

Steve noticed Natasha was looking at him from the doorway, arms folded.

“Got something to say, Romanoff?” he asked, snappily.

“What could I possibly have say when you handled that so well?” she asked sarcastically. “FYI, you might want to take your shield back home with you later, I can’t expect Nova’s gonna take to being stripped down in front of people so well…” She levelled Steve with another look before she left and he let out a groan of frustration. Could this get any worse?

By the time he got back to his office both Evans and Allen were waiting. And when Evans explained what Allen had been saying, Steve was even more frustrated as he wasn’t surprised Katie had reacted the way she did, not that it made it right, just a little more understandable. He unloaded on the woman, gave her a verbal warning and then dismissed them both. Then, deciding it was time to face the music at home he headed to their apartment.

Katie had made it back to their quarters before she had burst into tears. She knew she was being unreasonable in a lot of ways. The Compound was still finding its feet, so of course it wasn’t going to run like clockwork and obviously Steve was going to be working long hours. She was too, she wasn’t completely innocent in that respect. The issue was him missing date night was something he had never done before and it had surprised her a lot. Was she getting less important to him as the time went on? 

Was there someone else?

The fact she had even asked that shocked her, because she knew the mere thought of it was ridiculous. Steve would never do that to her, not in a million years. Hell, he’d practically pleaded for her to understand that one night when they’d been dating for a matter of weeks even though the thought of her soldier being unfaithful was as downright ludicrous as the thought he’d ever raise a hand to her...

“Can I ask you something?” Steve turned to look at Katie, his left hand resting on the steering wheel.

“What?” 

“When you were with Grant, did he err, did he ever, you know, hit you?” Katie shook her head “No. There was one time we had a really bad row and he slammed me into a wall but he was really upset afterwards. He was a lot of things but a woman beater wasn’t one of them.” she frowned “Why do you ask that?” “I dunno…I just…” Steve took her left hand in his right “Sometimes some of the things you say, like before, your comment about how you love that I’m letting you go out with Natasha, like I wouldn’t…I guess, well…I just worried a bit that he was…”

Katie took a deep breath “He was possessive.” she said, looking down as she flipped his hand over in her lap so she could trace the lines on his palm with her fingers “Constantly accusing me of looking at other men and he wasn’t particularly keen on me going out without him, it always caused an issue.” she sighed “I don’t think he did it to be abusive as such, more likely he knew he was being a dirty bastard and fucking around behind my back, probably assumed I was doing the same thing.”

“You know I’d never do anything like that don’t you?” he said gently, his eyes locking onto hers and she gave a soft chuckle and reached up to touch his face.

“Of course I do, you’re my Stevie” she said softly. He smiled and leaned down to give her a kiss. Katie smiled and traced his jaw with her finger “Soldier, I’m already a bit late…”

“Go on. Go have some fun. Call me when you want picking up.” “I can get a cab.”

“I know but I’d like to pick you up.” he smiled and Katie nodded.

“Ok. I’ll call.” she opened the door and stood out, smoothing down her top as she stood up.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called and Katie bent to look in the car at him and he smiled “Did I tell you how good you look.” “Why thank you.” she gave a playful courtesy which made him chuckle. “Love you.” “You too doll face” he grinned, “See you later”

No, Katie knew she had nothing to worry about there, she was simply pissed at him more for calling her out in front of Evans and the recruits. Angrily she stripped off, changed into her bikini top and her denim shorts before she grabbed her book intending on heading out to the patio area to top up her tan in the August sun.

She was in the kitchen, grabbing herself a beer when Steve came back.

“You alright?” he asked.

“No.” she said her tone clipped, “But thanks for asking.”

He rolled his eyes “Katie…”

“Excuse me.” she went towards the door He didn’t move.

“Steve, move.”

He still didn’t move. “No, you’re not going anywhere until we sort this out.”

She groaned and looked up to the ceiling.

“Wanna tell me what your problem is?” he asked

“Right now, you, not letting me out of this fucking room.” she sighed, rubbing at her temples.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me for last night and I get that, but..”

“That is not the problem!” she said loudly

“Then what is?” he said somewhat exasperatedly. “Honey, I can’t fix anything if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be fixing…”

” That!” she looked at him, her voice loud “That is the problem!. That you have no fucking idea what the matter is! You’re so wrapped up in running this place I hardly get a look in. You don’t ask for my input, you don’t involve me in anything…”

“Woah, now hang on…” he said, stepping forward, dropping his hands to his side “When we moved here you said you didn’t want to run anything…”

“And then you order me out of the fucking room in front of the damned trainees!”

“Yeah well you can’t just kick the crap out of one of my team members like that” he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah well your team member is an asshole." Katie rolled her eyes. “She deserved it for being a dick…”

She took the opportunity to dodge round him and out of the doorway he had vacated when he stepped into the kitchen and made her way to the doors at the back.

“Right now you’re being a dick” he said following her

“I’m not. I just don’t want to play second fiddle to your fucking Army Camp anymore.” “Army Camp?” he let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Yes Army Camp” she said, spinning round.

“You’re being ridiculous.” he shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Absolutely ridiculous.” “And that doesn’t help!” she glowered at him “When I’m pissed off or upset, you telling me I’m being ridiculous…” “Well you are…” he said, a chuckle escaping his mouth and he immediately knew that was the wrong thing to do.

“Stop fucking laughing at me!” she yelled, the heat rising up her neck and to my ears. He was really, really pissing her off, her could see it on her face he took a deep breath as she continued. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me this whole thing isn’t about reclaiming some of that time and life that was stolen from you?”

“You think…” he stopped and cocked his head to one side, trying to make sense of what she was saying “You think that this, all of this…” he waved his arms around “Is some kind of trip down memory lane?” “Well isn’t it?” He shook his head, snorting, giving her comment the contempt it deserved. “You couldn’t be further off the mark if you tried.”

“Well from what I see it looks like you’re simply trying to re-live your Howling Commando days.” she said, snapping back “And I have news for you Steve, I’m not Peggy, no matter how much you wish I was.”

The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them and they felt like a slap to his face. But instead of it upsetting him, he found himself boiling over with anger at how fucking ridiculous she was being. They had been through this time and time again, he’d shown her and told her at Clint’s she as the most important thing in his life, hell, they were getting married in less than 3 weeks for fucks sake, what else did he need to do?

“That’s out of order and you know it…” he said, his voice low. What do I have to do to make you realise you are what I want? Not Peggy, you…”

Suddenly the shitty nature of her words began to sink in and Katie found herself unable to look at him anymore, so she turned her head to the side. So he crossed the room and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing her to look at him. As she looked back his jaw twitched slightly, a mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes, the furious energy radiating off him and then that ridiculous part of Katie’s brain that controlled her libido piped up, this was fucking hot. Her breathing hitched slightly and he felt it too.

“Fine, if that’s what you want…” he practically growled as his lips crashed onto hers and before she could even think to kiss him back, he pulled away - leaving her wanting and moving toward him to try and catch his lips again. Her hands reached for his face, desperately trying to bring him back to her. At the motion, his hands grabbed her wrists and forced them back to her sides, clearly, but wordlessly telling her who was in charge.

There was a slight pause between them, both trying to catch their breath from the row that had just occurred and from the searing kiss he had just delivered. Then their lips found one another again, his hands moving to her waist to both pull her closer and he began to tug at her clothes. Getting the hint, she acted in tandem, hands falling to the clip on his utility belt, fumbling with it for a second in her rush before successfully releasing it and then going for the flies on his uniform pants. Steve popped the button on her denim shorts and in a quick swoop shoved them and her bikini bottoms down as they  both stumbled around the room.

He took hold of her hips again so to manoeuvre her wherever he wanted. They continued to stumble around the room for a moment before he took control and roughly picked her up. Her bare legs immediately wrapped around his still fully uniformed waist and her arms went around his neck as he slammed her up against the wall at the far side of the lounge and, using it as support he shifted his grip from under her ass. One hand went to her hip while the other pried her hands from the back of his neck. He was able to hold both of her wrists together with one of his hands, placing them up above her head and holding them there tightly.

This was angry sex, not make up sex, this was utter ‘I’m so fucking angry at you so I’m gonna show you.’ sex. Well, she was angry too so there was no way he was having this all his own way.

She rolled her hips, hard against him which was enough to get his attention but he simply used his free hand to shove her legs off of him. Katie managed to catch herself on her feet, only slightly bumping against the wall but before she had chance to think his lips found hers again, hungrily kissing her while his hand skated over her bare stomach. She arched into the touch, wanting him to move a bit south, but his hand stopped an inch away from where she wanted it to be.

"Say you're sorry." his voice was right by her ear, rougher than she could ever remember it being before. Rough enough to make a shiver go down her spine and for her to try and thrust into his hand, desperate for any sense of relief. But he pulled even further away from her, making her whine a bit. “You’re sorry and you believe me…”

"I'm sorry." she breathed out, stumbling over her words “And I believe you…”

He surged forward, kissing her desperately and she openly moaned into his mouth as two of his fingers slipped inside of her. His motions were fast and aggressive and he brought her to the brink, and then stopped.

"Do you still believe me?" he breathed out, voice ragged. “Tell me you do and you want this.” The fucker was still making a point but by now Katie really didn’t care.

"Stevie, please." she thrust her hips out toward him, gasping "I still believe you, I want you."

It was want, not need. And that didn’t escape his notice. He knew which one he would prefer to hear, to be wanted over needed any day.

He couldn’t help the soft smirk on his face as he braced one hand on the wall beside her head, the other harshly yanked one of her legs up so that it wrapped around his waist. Reaching into his pants he freed his now painfully hard erection from them and didn’t even pause before slamming into her, making her cry out sharply, one hand going to grip his bicep, the other against the wall to steady herself. He slammed into her over and over with such force that she was sure she was about to go through the wall itself and into the hall.

Desperate to be both closer to him and not to actually go through the wall, because that would be awkward to explain, not mention painful, Katie tried to lean in more to him. The motion made him go deeper inside of her, which caused her to moan at the feeling. At that point Steve quickly removed his hand from the wall and lifted her off her feet. Their chests pressed together, the bare skin of her stomach rubbing against the harsh Kevlar of his uniform, both messily kissing each other as Steve stumbled around the main area of the lounge before toppling over the arm of the couch where Katie ended up on top. Even then he continued his aggressive thrusts, his hands on her hips, pulling her down as he drove upwards.

She let out a small groan, the roughness of his pants was grinding against her clit along with the fact he was bottoming out inside her, hitting her spot again and again.

“Shit, Captain…” she hissed and the noise made him slam up even harder, fuck he loved it when she said that when he was being tough. She let out a loud scream and tightened around him and at the feel of her walls clamping down, which was fucking bliss as always, his thrusts upwards became desperate as he chased his own end,  before he gave a loud “fuck…” and he came, hard as she collapsed on top of him.

The pair of them lay, utterly spent and his hands gently ran up her spine as her face pushed into his neck.

"Still pissed at me?" he murmured.

"In a fashion." she responded as she picked her head from her shoulder and rolled to the side so she was between him and the back of the couch. He moved so they were facing each other, gently nudging her nose with his.

“Can we talk this over like adults now?” his voice was still quite stern. Katie bit her lip as she looked at him and he sighed, his voice becoming softer “I hate rowing with you. But I still don’t know what’s going on. Please talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t have ordered me out.” she said.

“You broke Allen’s nose.” Katie had to fight the smirk crossing her face. Good shot.

“it’s not funny.” “It is.” Katie said “She deserved it.”

After what Evans had told him, Steve kind of agreed to be fair and Katie saw his face soften slightly. “Evans told me what she said.” Steve brushed her hair behind her ears “For what its worth she’s had an official warning.” “Did you go all Cap on her?” Katie raised an eyebrow “Bet she loved that…” “What do you mean?” “Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed…”she snorted before putting on an airy voice “oh Cap…that’s so funny. Hey Cap, can you show me how to do this take down. Oh Cap, you’re such a good teacher… she was practically trying to climb you the other day in your office.” “You’re jealous…” he smirked.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff.” she sighed “Especially not some 28 year old blond bombshell.” “Blond bombshell?” he snorted.

“What? She’s hot.” I shrugged “I’d do her.” His eyes flashed cheekily “Now there’s an image.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed before sighing again.

“Listen to me…” he said, his hand then coming up to caress the side of her face as he looked at her, driving his words home. “You are the most important thing in the world to me and there’s no other girl that comes close, not matter what you think. Not Allen, not Peggy, no one. And as for playing second fiddle…” he gestured with his spare hand around the room. “Say the word and this all goes.”

“Yeah right. You’ll never give up being Captain America…”

“I would for you.” He said simply.

Katie looked at him, he’d shocked her, but he meant every word. If he had to give all this up, he would. He didn’t want to but, he would. The magnitude of what he had just admitted took a while to sink in, but when it did Katie was overcome with emotion, desire and she leaned in to kiss him, as he wrapped an arm around her waist while one of her legs slithered in between his.

Soft, gentle kisses were shared as Katie gently reached for the zip of his uniform top, undoing it and then guiding his undershirt over his head as he undid his pants fully, shimmying out of them before he guided her onto her back while he shifted so he was caging her in between his legs. This time the mood passion, not anger.

“You have no idea what you do to me…” he whispered gently into her ear as he undid the strings on her bikini top leaving them both completely bare. She let out a groan as she titled her hips up. He closed his eyes as her hand came to rest on his cheek and he leaned into the touch as he shifted so her legs parted and he was inside of her again.

Tilting her head back at the feeling left her neck exposed, which Steve took advantage of in pressing soft kisses up her throat. His hand snaked up her arm so he could intertwine his fingers with hers. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, instead of the frantic rhythm he had prior. The hand that wasn’t entwined with hers went to her hip, pulling her closer as he thrust deeply, gently, slowly, each roll of his hips hitting her spot as he continued over and over again, head dropping to my neck, collar bone and breasts which he had paid no attention to before.

“Stevie, you feel so good…” Katie moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words. When her orgasm rolled over her again, this one not as ferocious as before, but no less pleasurable she melted underneath him, breathless, her hand running through his hair as he came again, collapsing on top of her

The moments after they finished were always their favourite. The quiet bliss that surrounded them like a bubble, keeping them safe from the world.

"I love you." Katie said softly. He picked his head up from where he had it buried in the crook of her neck so he could meet her eyes.

"I love you too." he responded, pushing some hair out of her face,  thumb circling her cheek. "I can’t wait to be your husband." he whispered, lips ghosting over hers.

 Tags

@the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings16

@angelofhell-666

@thewackywriter

[deviationdivine]

Wake Up | domestic!Android AU Part 1 (Connor x Reader)

gif by arsuf 

F!reader x Connor

13.6k words

Detroit: Become Human - 1 Year Anniversary Release Celebration

A revolution may divide the city but it will never divide you...

tw: Angst, Fluffy Connor in the midst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Violence

a/n: First part of mini-series AU “Wake Up”. An introductory chapter one. Apologies for how long this took but I struggled and I am not happy with the end result. However, it’s finally here. • Connor is the latest high tech domestic model built with a collection of extra features, skills and functions making him the most advanced of his kind. As your personal assistant he is equipped with becoming the perfect partner if you so require. Falling in love with your personal android was never part of the equation nor was his break into deviancy...

“My name is Connor. I am your personal assistant. My features will allow me to take extensive care of your home, do the cooking, mind children and repair any problematic issues that arise within the household’s utilities. 

As I am the most advanced make I can perform various tasks including but not limited to acts of a sexual nature. If you so require I am capable of being the perfect partner…”

Perfect is a conceptual illusion in every sense or so you come to believe. Why do humans think in terms of excellence when most shining examples tarnish in glaring flaws? Even technology can be made wrong or needing improvement not long after distribution. Faulty wiring, danger of overheating and causing harm of a radioactive proponent all seem minuscule in comparison. 

Today, in the future, there is a grander blueprint mapping out the most innovative, extreme to date.

When it becomes alive, mimics the very corporeal state of being born unto humans since man breathed life in this vast universe, mirroring visage of those who wish to create in their likeness.

How does it go from technological wonder to abstruse thinking? Concepts can be a greater weapon. They can also reach for too much too soon. Is this the true state of AI meant for consumer consumption?

Cart them off exclusively as merchandise no matter how human they look. Isn’t that their appeal? The more something foreign, inexplicable but resembles us the more it is accepted. Basic instinctual deep thinking bred into all humans. Difference is an attest beneath surface value. Judge a book by a cover but if there are features hiding its distinct nature by all means use it.

Laziness might be a better solution in this mathematical equation. Imperfect perfection makes way for future development. Those are the very elements that change the world.

Can you even imagine for one second, one little point in life it would come to change yours? So small in a world full of billions but here in Detroit home of Cyberlife and its creation the pilot sparks. Alight with technological revolution.

Androids are here. Androids are owned. Bought as slaves to humanity and used beyond measure, no consideration that those made in image could possibly develop feelings. Emotions are heavy. They are what make us all human. Can machine truly become human?

  You never wanted one. Mostly it made you uncomfortable witnessing cruelty by specific ‘owners’ on the bustling city streets. It’s everywhere. Even today, chillier, more specifically a frigidity creeping into bones.

Eyes shift over a couple walking briskly as you draw coat closer together up throat. Keeping wind seeping through to tangle around your body but watching them waltz their merry way without care. Of course they have none. Their female android, an AX400 to be exact, is taking care of two rowdy children.

Honestly it must be nice. Not having to parent after deciding to add more to the burdening populace. Maybe that’s just your pessimism talking. Simple fact though? Could be that too but who knows?

Just another one of those days but it is about to change drastically. Passing a Cyberlife store does pique curiosity. Window displays my God. They line them up as if that’s all they are.

They offer whatever a human wants and yet not all can bother to treat them fairly. Is it enough androids are made to look as everyone else? Would a genuine human being treat another so despicably? Yes. A resounding yes because it never goes away. People treat people with disdain for every reason, every prejudice and why should that shock? Androids have become an additional target. 

Honestly it makes you sick. Never did you once realize this is what would change things completely. On this very day, minding business walking home from another tiring bustle  

More than one occurrence struck you right in the gut. A previous household model absorbs brunt of   obscenities and physical humiliation. A scene like this turned your stomach. 

The moment it came to intervene you received an interrupting phone call. Unfortunately this was the start of big changes in your life.

What does one do discovering death of a relative? Closeness is a fundamental of familial connections. For you? Well, let’s say it didn’t quite work out.

  “What do you mean he…died?” Answering in a quiet breath, cell phone a tight clutch in hand stalling in breezy climate, everything stops around your personal orbit.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” a familiar voice speaks over your ingenious disbelief.

Ignoring your pleas for a proper answer it becomes increasingly cruel on the woman’s breath digging truths in your ear. Whether she realizes this or not it’s up for debate. “You do realize this was coming. It isn’t as if he were young and healthy. Frankly, I am surprised you are having such a negative reaction.”

Negative is exactly the type of reaction! What does she expect? “Of course I’m having a reaction!” Practically screaming into your phone made the chilled air sting worse. How is this happening? How can this even be real?

“Oh, it’s all right, Y/N. Get it out now. It’ll be better if you don’t make a scene at the funeral.”

Anger is a burning pyre ready to fan over and incinerate. One snide comment reminds how much you can’t stand this person. She’s not even blood related. An ‘aunt’ isn’t technically qualified to hold the title and that’s fine. Just another excuse to dig at you in this family but there is no family left. Your father – he’s dead.

Money fixes everything? Unlikely but still nothing surprises you more than receiving something from an estranged parent. Generous sums to a black sheep or as you’re sure greedy auntie bitch of the hour calls you behind your back. She is one woman who deserves that damn moniker. Especially when it’s clear there are no connections left. Aunt Cruella, as christened ages ago by your best friend, made short work of your uncle. Certainly bled him dry continues to do so with his left over money after he succumbed to stress in a massive heart attack. Why do people like her thrive using, snide and heartless while others –?

What can you do then? Except you fall into an overwhelming sense of losing time and never extending an olive branch. Why is the universe so cruel? Why can’t you turn back time, forget every stupid thing that ever happened to drive a rift?

Part of you couldn’t stand the idea of being alone rest of your life. Maybe that’s why using part of a small deposit felt right. Watching so many gradually fall into current technological commercialism lead to most having their own android. It seems almost a little too barbaric making them cater to every whim. Honestly, you have no idea why this is needed. Do you really need him? 

No, he isn’t… He. Yes, he. 

Despite manufacturing Connor is a he in every sense.  Even then you saw as much. Now is much more complicated or you are just as ridiculously naive as you’ve always been told. Who cares about naivety? It is simple opinion. No. This is a belief one that surely would have left nothing to you in an event of final family member’s passing. Yet here you are with him.

You recall when he first arrives unaware of how efficient Cyberlife retail truly is. Why should you be surprised? Deliveries have gone from generic dairy of yesteryear, beyond personalized grocery orders and straight to personalized beings. Androids: alive or not alive?

In conjunction with preprogramming he sounds so lively. In his voice a natural husky dulcet and his eyes a deep soulful brown. Souls in androids are impossible but it’s the only way you think to describe warm chocolate. Hotter than a mug of it steeped in whip cream vanishes as a ghost beneath steaming liquid. 

Flecks of caramel shine in hypnotic swirls enriching accents of russets in muddy hues, the very first thing captivating attention as he offers his list of functions. Even falling upon the last is difficult to decipher how caught up you are in a consummately asymmetrical visage. 

He is far too pretty to look at and you try to ignore these facts. The facts of your newly purchased personal android possessing an aura of physical attractiveness. A fabrication in aesthetics you remember. A way to cover up what he actually is beneath soft synthetic skin dusted as constellations of freckles. 

Tiny beauties cresting upon sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, purposely formed to elicit a reaction. This is not at all what you expected but it’s never something to forget. Little do you realize in this moment Connor will always burn brightest to memory? Little do you understand how events will unfold but they shall.

  “Is there a problem?” he asks habitual to programming. 

Societal protocols run a gamut through system piecing together the best course of action. It is only his first day interior of your home. He is of a sense of determination to complete whatever task you assign. 

Determination is not part of proper function. However, he minded the concept. It will be efficient for current issue. “I may be able to rectify your issue. What do you require of me?”

 Require? What?

You cough, inhaling sharply at his head cocking so innocently. A droop of hair flutters atop forehead as a sole rebel willing to fight immaculate armies. He is very well put together. Not that you mean the whole manufactured part! He just – looks like a really good looking guy who takes care of his appearance. Hair mostly but…

Wow, Y/N. Real nice for your first try at handling a conversation with an android.

Not that this is the first android you’ve been in contact with. Difficult not to be when they’re all over but as your very own?

OK Cyberlife! What is up with making him look like real life Prince Charming?  I mean look at this perfection. Is this required? Are they allowed to do this to poor unsuspecting humans?

Watching his brows furrow and LED flutter amber somehow pumps the beats of heart faster. Surely it’s a dead giveaway. It’s not every day you’re cursing Cyberlife for practically throwing a chiseled Greek god at you.

Oh, shit, really? Greek God? What the hell is wrong with you? What isn’t wrong with you?

You sigh, clicking tongue at yourself. Frustration doesn’t begin with this!

“Your stress levels are high,” Connor offers a reading of initial scan. “Would you like me to remedy the problem? I have several possible functions that may reduce anxiety. My model comes with every physical attribute you are familiar with in human anatomy.”

A hitch stoppers breathing. Just enough as eyes widen a little at his declaration. Human anatomy as in…? Oh. OH.

Your eyes shift down. Fixating right on his crotch sends a luscious shiver through body. Goosebumps prickle skin, hair standing up on them. First time in forever you’ve had this type of reaction. Not even your ex managed to make you quiver like this. Not that your mind is even there because that’s been over for so long. Frankly that cheating asshole can have his baby momma all to himself. Probably already banged a couple more unsuspecting fools; you clear throat, scratchier than before.

“Connor, that-that’s really nice!” Agreeing with him that he has nice features you laugh nervously. It’s the first day he’s been here and already he’s mentioning his, uh, included *assets* and it’s not his beautiful eyes either. Ah, shit. Why is he made to be a young, attractive male? “But I don’t think that’s necessary. Not right now.”

It only takes a moment before you hear what came out of your mouth. Right now meaning it’ll be fine later?

“Which isn’t to say I’ll need it later!” Damage control is literally a creator of chaos. Can he just not look so sweet giving these heady ideas? “Just come with me. You’ll need a place to stay. I mean, you are staying here but I mean…” Shit! He’s made this impossible without stammering all over the place. Who gives him the right?

The android’s lips drop open, inevitably looking to provide another set of options but he snaps his mouth shut. Blinking in assessment of his actions to “argue” with your dismissal, Connor pushes away several warnings popping into visual. They are unexpected and not part of his programming.

Instead of speaking he follows your lead, gaze soft and quizzical. Trailing as a newly trained puppy the latest model of Cyberlife’s domestic line becomes further entranced with chirping outside window. No longer able to abide by strict attention he tilts his head at passing pane. Sounds of birds in song flitter and perch on external sill; one ruffles its feathers cleaning with its beak. The other stands still.

He freezes. Both in movement and system analysis he is however conscious of two live creatures. Opposite of android pets universally made available for public sale. His database offers much information outfitting him with the fundamental needs of intelligence and sophistication in his programmed function.

Reaching to open a door you stop when his presence behind you feels empty. It was obvious when he followed but now?

“Connor?”

Cycling indicator fluctuates upon the command of your voice. He snaps around in direction of soft tone. Softer than accustomed since his distribution from Cyberlife shipping to physical store location was riddled with aggressive bystanders. He-he is not meant to mull over his awakening. It does not make him feel anything. No, he is an android. He feels nothing. He is a machine.

Clinical cold manifests deeply behind blocks, barricades in protocols. Connor pushes this strange tickle back underneath wires.

“Apologies for not obeying you, Y/N. It will not happen again. I am efficient.” Nagging at him, strange and uncorrelated to system status, he almost sounds…tense. Connor straightens shoulders, folding hands neatly against lower back. “I was made to be the best of my particular type of domestic models. As an AX800, I am programmed to be a superior prototype.”

Obeying you?

That happens to be the only words you focus on. His choice of them ripple uncomfortably, nearly squeamish in stomach. Is this how you sound? Are you affecting a command or-? No, it’s what he is made to know. That’s the thing. All androids are only made to serve and immediately regret comes back. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought him.

Bought! God, you’re just like those people now. Aren’t you?

No more excuses. No more seeing horrible mistreatment and vowing never to be like them. Even if you never would do any harm losing your father, when you never spoke anymore anyway, still you fear loneliness. Estrangement ruins lives. It really does. What do you have left now? Except for yourself to fend in this world and growing more complicated as the future rambles on.

Detroit is a bustling mix of dilapidated districts, high tech innovations, Cyberlife Tower most significant in those builds. This house is small. Tucked away in a tiny neighborhood away from inner city but you never complain. You are grateful. A roof over the head is the best gift in a mostly gift devoid world.

“Connor, please don’t call it obeying. I-I only wanted to see if you were OK.” Admitting the hesitation beforehand you feel antsy. His LED is blue again but it was amber finding him staring at window.

“My system is fully operational,” he assures, forcing his lips to form a smile.

In actuality his little gesture is a stiff grimace. Eyebrows rise at his attempt. Even if it looks goofy, which is completely not his fault, it’s very – cute.

Again with this! Never mind just focus for once. Pretty comical coming from someone who hardly meditates in the day to day; you step backwards, slipping through threshold, eyes remaining on him. It takes ever ounce of willpower to remain collected. Things are still hard to digest. No matter if it’s been a couple months tangling with all of that legal stuff. Auntie not by blood sure didn’t make it any better. Yet, here you are. Still you stand even while stress is overworking at a job that might as well kill you first.

Offices are pretty dull to work in. At least they would be if they were not a regular cushy job. Piles of paperwork, demands creep up to swallow whole, a boss who just will not stop making things harsher. Mister perfectionist belittles the lower tier all the time. No surprise but it seems the future isn’t as bright as people thought it would. No need to wear shades.

Moving toward window, pulling curtains open a bit to allow sunshine transitions atmosphere from dreary to somewhat cheery. Perfect mask to hide the real truth isn’t it? Sometimes you forget how good you are that. A small smile camouflages best.

You rub hands against the thighs of your jeans. A little sweaty because of nerves but today is big. Being alone always hardly prepares for constant company. Well, he’s meant to be here permanently. That is the initial idea.

“This can be your room.”

Connor’s brow furrows. Studying your movements upon entry, analyzing vitals and their continual fluctuations, the android is confused. His indicator cycles to process the statement as unexpectedly inclusive as it is. “I do not require a room. I am an android.”

Somehow that reaction is to be expected. You sigh, “Just because you’re an android doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have something of your own.”

Ownership is not given to his kind. They are machines. Concepts of acquiring personal effects do not make sense nor are necessary. Connor voices this as per factual protocol. “Thank you for the offer but I am a machine. Machines have no need for accommodations.”

Yes, of course he’s a machine but…

Machine, manufactured and sold without an ounce of actual soul according to android haters you see. Picketing with their signs, so angry about them taking jobs but who made them? They did. Humans decided to and no one complained. Why complain about a technological marvel that can mow your grass, do the dishes and babysit children while living carelessly. That is the difference. Between you and plenty of others there has always been a divide in what you feel. This just crashes down those so-called fantasies. Ones filtering into brain as tiny wisps and at first it was a nice distraction. Finding him so…

“Oh,” a whisper, dawning realization. He is – a machine.

Coming back to the door, grabbing onto handle, you decide to forget the suggestion.

Something sharp stabs at his internal processors. Listening to such a dull syllable slipping almost – upset? Humans’ need for validity and comfort seem to be all too natural. They are highly emotional. The android steps close, head cocked, fingers pressing against surface of door preventing your need to shut it.

Contemplating left him at a cross roads in his programming. He is meant to function specifically and does not need or want anything as you believe. However, he-he could not refuse. It would be impolite. “I- very well, Y/N. I did not meant to be unpleasant. My social parameters are not meant to alarm.”

Alarm? That is not why you… Your breath hitches. Realizing how close he is standing, invading personal space and if it were anyone else? Allowing him is both a conscious need for closeness while still mourning and an illusion. Live up to that woman’s ideas. The title of ‘aunt’ is undeserving.

“Thank you, Connor.”

“You are welcome,” he snaps back to his programming. “What sort of tasks do you have scheduled for me to complete?”

“Scheduled? I, uh…” Shaking a head at his question is clarity. Honestly you are not used to giving tasks to people. Tasks are dropped on your desk until you down. A huff of breath, accompanied with snort is more for yourself. It does garner the most adorable expression on his face. “Maybe you could just…talk to me? For now?”

Connor’s eyebrows scrunch together. His facial expressions capture attention driving the tempo of your heart. He does not understand why. ��Are we not speaking already?”

You laugh not at him but his innocent little response there is – Oh. No. 

It only deepens sadness in you now. Knowing where he came from and his confusion in you wanting a little companionship. Androids aren’t supposed to make friends are they? Even if they’re specifically programmed or upgraded to be partners. He mentioned that before.

Luckily a vibration against your thigh saves you. Reaching to pull phone from pocket your eyes train up to his and take a needful exhale. “Sorry, Connor, I have to take this.”

Connor moves aside out of your path. Remaining stationary, hands folded neatly, he awaits further instruction. However, the android’s eyes shift sideways at the sound of your voice outside room. Amber floods his temple.

“Why are you calling me now? No, I’m not wallowing! It’s called mourning. Maybe if you figured out what it was when my uncle died all those years ago you wouldn’t need a dictionary for it.” Hissing fire into phone attacks your aunt by marriage equally. Soon as you pick up! She just had to get in another word. 

Why does she feel the need for this? What’s the point anymore? “No. What do you want exactly? Is this about the trust fund again? I’m using a part to pay bills. What do you think I’m doing?”

Living expenses are still the same old problem. Must be nice for the rich their multi-billion dollar corporations feeding on tech. Just look at Cyberlife.

“It doesn’t matter,” you make it abundantly clear. Does she believe she’s that intimidating? Newsflash to miss upper crust but this labeled black sheep doesn’t take shit from people! “We might’ve had a rocky relationship but I loved him.”

Loved? Connor freezes in corridor. Disobeying processes to offer potential aid in obvious distress he finds himself…curious at such words.

“We were family. What do you think? Don’t you have enough blood money to spend on your Eden Club bots old woman?” Ending it on your terms this time does not fulfill you at all. Always the winner isn’t she? Rubbing it in your face about his death and if your father were here he wouldn’t let it happen. Whatever distances, issues it wouldn’t change that.

“Y/N?”

Connor’s quizzical tone jolts your weary bones. Inhaling sharply, not at all used to this tiny home being occupied by more than one but a heavy swallow fixes your voice. How long was he there? Did he hear all of that? Oh, great.

“I’m fine.” An automatic response always on autopilot gets the job done for you.

He narrows eyes. “Stress is not a healthy component in the balance of human’s…”

“Just leave me alone, Connor!” You snap, tears pricking corners of your eyes before twirling around to run upstairs.

 ^Software Instability

 Connor freezes momentarily. Flooding, filtering in a ripple through code blocks, he blinks in quick succession. Blinding and strange it is not part of his program –

Unable to run diagnostics, tears sparkling in your eyes draw his attention, overtaking protocol. The android’s soft gaze shifts from following your quick disappearance to ceiling indicating footsteps that conclude in a bang. Seemingly you have sealed yourself away. Scarlet pulsates in intervals mingling with amber processing solutions. Leaving you alone is an instruction. He-he cannot ignore. It is what he is programmed for. You are crying. Why must he obey? He must…

 >Obey

>Leave Alone

“Is there anything else you would like?” He asks as sun dips in later hours. Accomplish several menial tasks which he is free to do as he constructs. 

Following your distress several hours ago he feels – confliction. Few commands escape your lips and at times he is unsure with his current scheduling. Abilities are not in question but you appear distant. Did he do something wrong? By wanting to comfort…

 >Analyzing: Y/L/N, Y/N

Stress: 31.6%

Blood Pressure: 124/80

 Studying your face after initializing a vital scan enables Connor to store analysis records. Sleep deprivation, iron deficiency and higher stress than the human body should experience.

“Connor.” You straighten from your position curled upon couch. Mostly you tuck into one side, resting into upholstery and your breathing exhales shaky. Trying to rest off a headache isn’t working. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

The android nods but pauses in thought. A fluid habit now out into the world. Yet, he has yet to see much. Only transferring from lab to warehouse storage and ultimately on display in a merchandise kiosk for Cyberlife; he is not widely available as of yet. Detroit is the originator of androids. The product mark on his white uniform christens his manufacturing origins: Made in Detroit.

“There are other functions I was built with,” he explains enthusiastically. “If you would like a domestic partner, it is one of my features.”

Rubbing at your temples ceases the moment he speaks. A domestic partner? Is he talking about that thing again? You draw breath. Unable to look at him now, feeling it twist in stomach, you uncurl, pressing feet on floor. 

“No!” Quickly you cover the rise in heartbeat.

It is so obvious. Wouldn’t be the first time stumbling across sexual depravity in humans. Look no further than the Eden Club. The fact they decided to make that a thing for a household model is honestly not a shock.

God, why do they live in this world? Why do you even have him here? Isn’t this just making you as horrible as everyone else? 

“No,” you repeat softer. “I’d never force you to do something like that.”

It is not forcing when he is programmed, installed with such features. They are high end. As several techs discussed ignoring his presence as though he were – merchandise. Androids are sold. He knows this but has never had a moment to process.

There is zero need. Androids do not think freely. They are constructs built for specific purposes and his are fundamentally clear. He has never performed these functions as he is brand new but Connor feels he can ease stress efficiently. 

Thinking solely as a machine built for a task did not hold true. He felt…strange at your refusal. “Am I not aesthetically pleasing?” Cocking his head, knitting brows together, Connor looks expectantly to you for validation.

Lifting eyes up to him your lips fall open at his question. Did he really ask that? Are androids supposed o ask those kinds of questions? It almost as though he was hurt by that. No, it’s just imagination. Today has been too tiring. Never would have gone so wrong if that woman didn’t call. Honestly answering was your mistake. Story of a sad little life but others have it worse. 

Humans will always be crawling through turmoil, unable to breathe depending on their situations. Maybe that’s why a little part of you wishes he was human. At least acts without programs but this is why he’s here. To fulfill a fantasy, cater to every whim? 

No. To rectify personal aches to pretend that someone is here to offer a shoulder. When there has been nothing going through your father’s death, legal dealings with assets and pressure in job.

“No,” squeezing eyes shut to battle tension, your voice is low. “I mean, yes of course you’re aesthetically pleasing. I mean…you’re handsome. Practically the most…”

What? Beautiful boy you have ever seen? There comes that illusion. They do that on purpose but somehow looking at him you don’t see a machine. How funny is that?

“That isn’t why, Connor.”

Getting up from couch, taking deep breaths and stepping clear of coffee table helps focus. Rubbing palms against face at least wipes away some mess. Eyes are puffy, red from an unnecessary outburst earlier. At certain points life reaches boiling and yelling at him to leave you alone twists in guilt. This is exactly the sort of things Auntie Bitch thrives on.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him. Even if it would make no difference it does to you. “This isn’t what I’m used to. Having someone else here.” 

Well, after deadbeat ex anyway but he was a typical freeloader. Thankfully you scrubbed his dirt out of life and home. 

“I’ve never done this before. Having an android I mean. Ordering you to do something that you have no control over is not the type of person I am.” Plus, it’s not as if the androids at those sex clubs have a say. “I’d never do that to you or any of your people. Like some humans would.”

People. A human way to look at him or other androids but that is incorrect. Why would you refer-?

 ^Software Instability

 Connor blinks. The error message was in his vision only briefly and the little blue arrow increasing shudders through his system. He opens his mouth but does not respond. Instead, his eyes fall to your back turning away, pacing in additional stress.

Immediately, the android steps over, placing a hand against your arm. “Y/N, I apologize. Please, do not be upset. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated. You should rest. Perhaps I can produce a remedy befitting in alleviating your headache.”

Touch spreads goose bumps beneath shirt sleeve. Forcing arms to cross over your chest you twist to face him directly an extra tiny thud winds up heart. A key cranks in melody of jewelry box, dancer spins a ballet recital; vintage little tokens, delicate but thunderous in sentimentality. Just a brief glance, pressure of long fingers and it’s the first time you realize how pretty they are. 

Long, beautiful digits on large hands made not born. Yet he is still heavenly.

Sharply a breath slips. Words soothing, touch comforting all those things you crave. Yet this is part of protocols for him. That’s all.

Deeply you sigh. Feeling an unmistakable need burning lower pit of stomach detaches you. A shiver runs a gamut through body and spikes straight to the core of your existence. You squeeze legs tighter together cursing the fact your body decides to get horny over a headache solution. 

Fuck that! It’s his voice. Husky velvet, raspy natural glory and you are so wet. It takes everything not to jump his bones right now. Or mechanical bones? Hmm. Close enough!

“I just need to get extra sleep, Connor.” Dismissing his ideas there are too many running through your mind. Staring down at his crotch again remembering what he said but no. Get it out right now. No matter how much you need to –

You need to go upstairs. Yes, that’ll work.

“Y/N, are you positive? Your levels are fluctuating severely in my scans.”

“Oh? Are they?” Can he also smell arousal? Please, please tell me he can’t.

Connor, however, is not as naive as you believe him to be. Built with specifics in domestic partnership it is easy for him to know when the human body is aroused. Due to your state of duress and current levels of stress he does not wish to explain. It may not be beneficial. It may hurt you.

The android turns eyes down slowly, battling with these thoughts. He is not meant to debate. He is meant to proceed with internal core analysis. Percentages drive him. Yet, he struggles. Is this an error?

“Connor?”

His head snaps up. Connor’s LED flashes in a crescendo to your soft expression.  Hiding the obvious need you have. All humans must expel anxiety in some way. Perhaps he is aesthetically pleasing as you said but –

“I will return to my duties if that is sufficient.” He forces another one of his smiles.

Again the grimace is heartwarming. Albeit in need of practice but-but maybe you can teach him? If there is any good to come out of falling into the same realm as everybody else, then treating him fairly is a start. As if you would treat him bad. No. Why should it matter? Human, android or alien from outer space; you laugh now.

Stupid! So stupid but it’s calming down this literal burning.

Light, airy and symphonic this sound seeps into audio processors. A residual aura prickles sensors, blinding differently than unprecedented software errors. Are they malfunctions? Something soft, sweet cannot be. He has not experienced this before but his attention is solely on you. As brief as the laugh escapes, curling lips in a gentle rise at corners, Connor absorbs the natural human tinkle of chimes that expel so abundantly.

It is the first laugh, genuine laugh he has heard. And it is – beautiful.

The android is so distracted upon this new discovery he does not notice you slipping away. Androids do not possess a need for personal orbits. Their space is not granted freely as they are not free in will like humans. They are meant to serve. Obeying their masters is why they exist.

Yet, Connor can almost feel lack of metaphorical warmth. As you dissipate from his radius so does that laugh that digs into wires. Threading in circuits, causing another minor glitch of instability, forced away from vision in order to watch you; this is a tiny strain, a little piece implanting itself in him.

This is the piece that truly begins everything…

“Y/N,” he calls to interrupt your exit. Without prompt or instruction he once again acts beyond his programming.

Something new, urgent stops everything. You glance over shoulder. Steeling breath at his temple flashing you swear a blip of crimson glows in amber. Just a fraction of a second but you have no idea. Not yet, not then but you will.

“Yes, Connor?” Your breath is quiet, thoughtful meeting his uncertain gaze.

“I-” Connor stumbles. A perfect machine sputters. “Who was on the phone?”

Twisting your body the full way now, nails tap against wall for something to do. A way to hide that hollow pit forming again but no one can hide from analysis. Connor will already know. “That-that was my aunt. My aunt by marriage. She’s- Let’s say she isn’t a very nice person.”

Keeping rest of it bottled up is no solution but telling him will only upset you again. He doesn’t need to know. At least not yet but is this a conversation to share? With an android? Who else will listen? Who else even cares to ask?

Connor did. Is his social program that good?

Honestly, you think nothing of it. For a time it merely seems to be part of what he was built for.

Thinking back at times to this day, first meeting, you will find that so stupid. Naïve isn’t really part of you but he is more. Connor is so much more. It becomes apparent…

August 15th

 Practically slamming front door shakes the entrance with your current state of anxieties. Stress cannot be worse. Spoke too soon during midday. Damn it.

Clearing throat, wiping tears off your face, your breath is staggered. Unable to calm down from such ‘good’ news following that sudden meeting with your boss and everything ripples. Stomach twists badly. Nervous energy or just another month of-

Pressing face into hands poorly stifles sobs. Getting half way through home you just stop. Everything halts as things just don’t want to change. Now this of all things from work it’s going to hurt you in the long run. Your boss did this on purpose. Cutting hours and piling extra to sift through on that fucking computer.

How many sales diagrams, how many logs must you make now? There’s a specific quota. Each person who works database needs to meet their allotment. He threw a ton at you. In order to give leeway to another girl who just started there. Yeah, another potential conquest for the old pervert you’re sure!

What do you get in return? Hours cut and less pay but more weight. A ton sits on your shoulders. Isn’t it enough he humiliated you? Purposely shout out and criticize while leaving his office and you held your head up. Only in the sanctuary of home does it finally snap this flood.

Dropping keys moving uneasily into living room, sinking heavily on couch, you just want to curl up. Maybe it will make things feel better?

Lazily you peer up at television screen. Realizing it is switched on produces a tiny smile. Did he-?

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

Your head lifts up further. Narrowing on Connor stepping into view, he straightens, cocking his head in that adorable way that keeps invading your sleep. Even awake it’s a problematic daydream. He is just on the mind too frequently.

“Connor,” a quiet breath escapes, stilted, weary.

The android reads stress automatically. Forcing tiny fissures in his emotionless facade, splintering through system, he moves swift. However he freezes. Unaware of this strange urgency pulling up tendrils of glittering circuitry, waves undulating beneath shell, eclipses protocols. He must serve. He must obey. Yet he feels something else overshadowing programming. 

System stress battles this ever growing need to break. Crumbling at the seams the more he feels your presence. It is a permanent fixture. As he has become one in your space but Connor is only meant to serve. Why does he feel drawn beyond these stitches of code?

Androids do not question. They cannot experience existential crisis because there is nothing real. They are simple constructs. He – no, there is no personification heralded to androids. They are not alive. Therefore they are not allotted appropriate pronouns.

Connor has heard only one word countless times regarding his kind: It

“Y/N, you have been crying,” he observes through fluctuations.

Pushing them aside, attempting to stabilize, diagnose these errors, the android taps into social function. Sympathizing is not a genuine growth. It is merely part of his program. That is what Connor wishes to believe. He believes in nothing. Nonetheless it does not explain what is easy to machine. Calculations, data processing should offer quantifiable solutions. It is negative.

There is more emotion in his eyes than he knows. You see it. Honestly it surprises enough to cripple a proper response. Easily you brush it off any other time. This time there’s no hiding what he’s already seen. Can imagine what he sees through his eyes. How do androids really perceive the world? Quit thinking for once! All of it is illusion. Remember that.

Cyberlife’s one true goal makes millions, grows powerful in branding of highly sought after merchandise. Still it makes you sick but here you are. Do the same thing because you have Connor. No matter how different it is.

“I’m fine,” a lie tells a thousand truths.

Connor’s brows knit together, mouth twitching, flutter of LED amber. A sign of outward commiseration fights his shackles. He knows you are lying. Despite the fact he should listen and not broach the subject further, the android does not resist this new deviation.

“Why are you lying, Y/N?”

Your breath catches. Stuck in throat along with words it’s a surprise. Even more surprising is the glimmer of irritation on his face. The way his mouth goes lopsided like that is – cute. Wait a minute you’re supposed to be mad. You are! Mad at your goddamn boss for one!

“Lying?” you scoff back at him. “I’m not lying. I said I was fine. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me either, Connor!” Can androids even argue about things so mundane? Isn’t this what you wanted? A real conversation instead of a string of pleasantries, affirmations to duties he accomplishes.

“I am sorry but you are lying!”

Connor’s voice raises an octave higher than typical. Naturally husky, oh, how it deepens. Raw and very alive his tone completely solders you to the spot. Your eyes lift up to his face studying the gleam of his eyes. How strange that spark is. Almost a live wire crackles beneath the surface. A steamy cocoa bright before immediately dimming again; a breath sucks into your lungs cleansing the start of your body. Scarlet shimmers and that’s all the answer you crave.

He appears to swallow. Forcing his Adam’s apple to bob, which is a very realistic detail. Just as the rest of him is so real that sometimes you forget. Sometimes or all of the time, yes, most days his reality masks so well in the mind.

“I-I am…” Connor looks away. Unable to comprehend his reaction it is not part of his – “Forgive me.”

The way his voice lowers tugs at your heart. No. No, that’s not what should happen at all. You’ve seen enough of his kind out there. In the city of Detroit treated so fucked up. Most of them wouldn’t know what to do because they can’t. This is the first time he’s ever snapped from whatever social programming is built in him. He sounded too much like a person. A person with emotions reacting in a very obvious way and the idea Connor’s a person lingers.

You shift forward. Sucking in breath, following his gaze now landing on television, it’s the first time it hits. A ton of bricks, tumbling concrete could never do more damage. Everything about his apology stands still at the developing breaking news story.

ITM is broadcasting live somewhere. Is that outside an apartment rise?

Right now you ignore it. “Connor.”

The softness of your voice draws him back to you. Already he is far too used to it. Joining you upon couch, cocking head, his hand hovers atop yours. Fear of connecting with reality versus construction. He does not touch. He should not be pulled towards these fissures. Emotional surges strike ablaze as a fibrous match lighting his internal mechanisms. Wires push up, tendrils yanking one way towards control’s puppeteer. There it dangles him in strings made of electrical coil. Ensnaring his wrists, snaking around throat, digging thorny and jagged to his brain this is his prison.

Another piece cradles those signs of sensation, innervating beyond a great wall. A red wall gridlocks and crashes against him. It is a giant wave. Scarlet tides engulf and knock the android back where he belongs. Each time he wades closer to you the more it washes him out to that empty sea. He cannot stop. He still pushes. Something inside of him, he does not understand.

“You do not feel well, Y/N. I know this.” Apologizing again, he does not focus on his inner struggle. There should be nothing. He is supposed to be feeling nothing. Is he malfunctioning?

“It’s OK,” appeasing the strobe of scarlet cascading down his face worries. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“But I disobeyed. I lost control of…”

“That’s only human, Con.” Slipping on your tongue in an easy breath it’s the first time. Oh this will hardly be the last. Nothing will ever be last with him. If only fantasy can be reality most days. Maybe if you somehow knew here at this point in time. Everything happens for a reason.

He frowns. “I am not human.”

Sadly it’s true. Still you smile. Still you ease him because for once you realize. This isn’t supposed to be easy for him. He shouldn’t even react this way.

Both of you sit in silence. Deafening quiet just the two of you and how strange, wonderful this sensation crawls through the interstices of your being. Almost as if there is someone who cares. Does he? No. That can never mean he is not a needed presence. He is so much more. Soon you will know.

What you least expect is the pressure of his fingers sinking against your stomach. A jolt of electricity, naturally igniting a voltage inside of you and a soft sigh escapes the burden of a dry throat. Glancing down you realize – his hand is growing hotter.

“Connor, what are you-?”

“I detect an increase in prostaglandins.” His prognosis is casual, visibly reading as his LED flutters. “It will do well if you have a heat source to combat any discomfort or cramping.”

A shiver prickles down the curve of your spine. Simple touch or perhaps smooth husky words fill this awkward silence now with comfort. Sure it might be a technical way to point out this specific pain in the ass but it does take your mind off things. So easily you could remove his hand. A good idea to put up a barricade and distance yourself but you cannot do that.

Every thread of stress snaps. In one tiny moment anxieties melt off and ease into his aura. Androids are not supposed to have one. This conscious radiance but Connor’s orbit is safety, assurance. Even if he has no idea what sort of progress it means. A simple relationship of humane and machine, ownership and merchandise is how this world wishes. It is not your wish. There is more. Witnessing it now, gazing up at his face, concentrated crease of brow, optical unit bleeds a palette of amber and scarlet. Dusted in freckles his skin is a smooth canvas to admire. He is so real. Up this close it is so obvious even to your inferior eyesight. Compared to his advanced optical it is. His eyes are warm. Such life shines in them. Mocha sweet, soft and glitters in his careful evaluation. Technical and part of programming but still it sends you somewhere else.

“If confirmed this would be the first case of an android taking human lives.”

Your attention shifts. Drawn to the ITMtv news broadcast it was nearly forgotten. You sit up, unconsciously curling fingers around Connor’s wrist.

The action snaps his gaze down. Momentarily he freezes, stationary, until the soft gasp spills from your lips. Connor tilts his head. In line with television screen narrowing sharply on events unfolding leaves him struggling with process of information. An android is taking human lives? How is this possible? They are programmed to obey not to cause harm.

We are not alive. We are meant to serve not kill!

Connor tugs his hand back. Distancing himself, staring at news broadcast unsettles down to his core processors. A domestic model has taken a child hostage. An inferior model? No, he-he is the same. Upgrades, prototypes mean nothing. They are all part of a linear code. What they are made to be is what they must be. There is no deviation!

Artificial saliva swallows hard, bobbing in his throat. An increase of stress twists him to those original thoughts. Inconclusive on why he is feeling. The events live on air aren’t helping this strain.

“Connor. Connor, what’s wrong?!”

Your hand clutches at his shoulder. Unbeknownst to the android his face twitches with each strobe of optical unit. The shift between colors quickens. His eyes land on you. Concern for him is a shimmer of hope. A hope doesn’t exist for androids.

“I am performing a self diagnostic,” he lies.

Pulling away from him when he jolts up from couch deepens this sickness further. Everything flips in the stomach. Just hearing what they’re reporting. An android murdered a human. He has a little girl. What are they going to do? Is this really happening though? There have been rumors. For several months there’s been talk of androids running away. Going off and doing God knows what but that’s people who hate them. They’re the ones who talk about how evil they are. They shouldn’t exist. Made in our image and unnatural monsters; the erratic behavior in Connor abates this thinking.

There is no time to debate. You already know the opinion that matters. It’s your own.

“You’re lying,” echoing it back stops him. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

“There is nothing.” Connor insists. Remaining turned puts his back to you. The android tries to fight his conflicts. All of it is bubbling, boiling upon his plastic surface. Itching, tingles beneath synthetic skin. You are part of it somehow. He knows. That is why he is malfunctioning.

Nothing? No. There is something! Proving it, grabbing at his arm, twists him to face you. There is no powerful in your pull. He whirls at the action out of choice.

A staggering breath barely reaches past your lips. Large hands engulf wrists, pulling your hands up. Entrapped in Connor’s grasp, fingers long and pliant in their fuse to yours swallowing up in such a strong, yet gentle touch. He doesn’t hurt you. That’s not at all what he took hold to do. Still the continuing broadcast emanates a horrifying soundtrack. Androids killing but he-he’s not like other androids. He wouldn’t do anything he should not do. Part of you wants to believe that.

How he looks now is the only answer to an impossible question. He is agitated, nervous? Not horrifying as people say they are. He looks lost. Lost and searching inwardly. This is the first time he ever appeared that way.

“Connor, please. Don’t shut me out. Just because of what I am.”

“You are my owner,” he lowers his voice. “I am a machine made to obey. I am not your equal, Y/N.” Studying traces of worry in your face opens a hole in his chest. Circuitry, mechanical proponents powering his structure bleed in this instability.

He knows. In the crinkle between your eyebrows, droop of the corners of your soft mouth he sees. For him, a thing without purpose, genuine distress shines in the warmth of your eyes. Human, innocent compared to those he has witnessed abuse in the street. You will never deserve harm.

“I’m not an owner. I-I’m…” What are you? A friend? A lover? None of those things! You bought him. What he says is the horrible truth. “It’s OK to be you. I don’t care. If you have a problem it’s not like that thing on the news. I know it triggered something. But that’s not…”

“I am not triggered by anything, Y/N.” Connor releases you slowly. Allowing wrists to drop from his fingers the loss of warmth registers profoundly. He did not realize he could feel so authentically. There is something wholly beautiful about how your skin blends with his. It fascinates him. You are beginning to fascinate him.

Connor breaks away. Narrowing heatedly upon news, he can only watch one of his own threaten to murder a human child. The android can only stand by as it unfolds. Unable to snap, break through and understand. What made him attack? What turned him on his owners?

He can’t calculate a reasonable response. Neither can he fall into these errors, system malfunctions whispered of since he arrived to your home. This thing they call deviancy.

November 1st

 Several months follow the first introduction; follow that news broadcast that begins a shift in the city. Still it seems longer. An infinite amount of space separates since then and now. Only in a comforting presence that you know is still simply part of his programming. Of course that’s all it is, he made it clear during the hostage event televised for all of Detroit to witness. Did it ever stop the truth in you? No because it would all be lies if you never admitted how…attached you’ve grown to him. 

Attachment to an android probably isn’t the smartest thing. How can you see him as just an android anymore? He’s more. There is so much more. Even his small barely there smiles, a hint of stiffness apparent in the corners of his mouth, make your heart flutter. Just a tiny drop of emotion dips in an endless sea of code.

No. You can’t think of it because the second you fall into this fairy tale something regretful will take place. It will swamp around heart, holding upon his smooth cool fingers. 

Cradling in his synthetic grasp without him understanding that slowly, profusely, so internally chaotic inside your soul, have already began this descent. However there is more to being in a daze. You certainly haven’t taken him up on his special upgrade programming to be the perfect domestic partner. 

Imagine others forced into things they can’t control? It sickens you at times. Reading about android sex clubs, knowing explicitly they have no option to refuse. That’s not to say you haven’t stared the tugging threads of temptation in its face. Imagining what Connor looks like underneath his uniform, pristine white, shades of blue stitch, android glitters in luminescent fabric; his deliciously toned forearms visible donning a short sleeved variant get your mind racing.

Large hands, long fingers, veins, muscles eye catching in their realism all built into his synthetic design. It doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. That his layer of beauty is artificial because what you’d give to trace fingertips against his lovely epidermis.

Kissing him all over, following the obvious toned planes of the android’s chest. Feeling him against your fragile human exterior; to say you haven’t fantasized, haven’t fought with internal desire is bigger than an understated battle. 

Just look no further than that incident first day he was here. Getting off on his voice, comfort spilling in a song; you hate the fact it happened. Only reveals how desperate you were in that time for any ounce of solace. 

He offered then as it is part of what is meant to be. But you can never hurt him. As much as others will say you are delusional for believing he has feelings. Emotions are part of human existence, after all, not part of creations built for sole purposes of serving.

Current state of the city might have something to do with it but today is like any other. At least it begins as such. Even in the now listing along day by day thankful for once in your life for a father who never lived up to his title. Until he dies of course then all is forgiven.

Small miracles don’t exist in the grand scheme of life. Sometimes wishing they did amplifies doubts.      

“Connor.”

Whispering in a lazy flip amid covers, groggy and unaware of his name sighing affectionately bundles you from penetrating sunlight. Blankets do little to hide from the morning. Squinting half lidded towards those streaks of light creating illuminated patterns. Spreading across snowy carpet and reaching up to edge of floral stitch coverlet draped mattress, you toss an arm over to cover eyes. Squeezing them beneath wakes you up better. This time it’s obvious.

Sitting up quickly and digging fingers into blankets sheds confusion. The state between unconscious dreaming to conscious awareness is a complete mess. Did you just have a dream about him again? Rubbing hands against your face doesn’t wipe tiredness away. It neither helps get your mind straight.

A complete mess in the mornings is a daily routine. All of your life what else is new?

Absorbing sunshine might be good for the pores. He will tell you that soaking in morning sunlight is a healthy way to get vitamin D. In his perfectly technical but also impeccably cute tone; you smile fixating on his changing mannerisms. 

Does he know how human he’s been acting with those facial expressions, eyes lighting up in rich cocoa? 

Could be imagination running wild trying to make something out of what can’t be possible. Nice to daydream a little even if representing unnecessary emotions piling up inside. Staring across bedroom lit with natural rays seeping through blinds leaves a warmer atmosphere. 

You enjoy it for a distraction. Quiet can be poetically sound as pressing face into pillow and letting loose a scream. Frustration doesn’t surround the home. It surrounds your job.

God another shift to cover and this time you’re damn sure this co-worker is pulling it out of –

“Good morning, Y/N.”

A gasp slips in a slither upon breath, pressing tongue against the back of teeth enamel in a stare down with your open door. He enters so stealthily sometimes you forget.

“Connor,” greeting him wearily, yawning and stretching arms, your neck is stiff. 

Rubbing at the back of it doesn’t distract you too much. What is he-? Oh. Explains the hot smell of food but this is a little unexpected. You never tell him to bring breakfast anywhere.

The android places an oak tray atop your lap. His eyes trail over exposed skin from a top haphazardly thrown over your body last night. After all of this time sharing space with you he has noted a penchant for wearing oversize shirts, pajamas to bed. There is still a glimpse of lace peeking out as the fabric slouches down.

“Are you hungry? I hope you are.”

He hopes? You smile, especially seeing him returning it. A slight indentation, just the tiniest of dimples in that sculpted face. Still not completely natural but enough to make caterpillars transform to butterflies in your stomach.  Much improvement you think!

“Of course I am but…” You jab a nail atop wood beside plate for emphasis. “Is there something I should know, Connor? You’re awful sneaky today. More so than usual.”

^Software Instability

Connor breathes in a fresh batch of warnings. Unnecessarily inhaling expands chest and it is the natural scent of you. Olfactory filters clog, storing away to memory each thread of you. He tilts his head softly, dip of hair flopping across his forehead.

“It is the anniversary of your purchase of me,” he answers quietly. “I thought you would enjoy having breakfast in bed.”

Everything flutters. You swallow. The careful attention he put into this is outstanding. Not because he whipped up food or was told. He did this by himself. He-he chose to surprise you?

A smile graces lips before biting the bottom one a little bit. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. And the last couple of months Connor’s really been broadening his horizons. He is so much different. Well, he’s the same with the whole analytics but – this android is less stiff. Softer but he always was a soft boy in your eyes.

“Oh, Connor,” a sweet breath skims along his name. Sadly you recall what you think of this. Most romantic, nicest thing and it’s breakfast in bed. Generic to others maybe but it’s the thought. He thought of you even if it might just be social parameters.

You pick up a folded napkin and curl fingers into it. Shit.

“Y/N.” Connor reaches down. 

Using the tip of his finger swipes a droplet corner of eye. Those eyes always look at him as if he is more. How strange to admit he feels different meeting your sparkle; Connor sits. Without a word, his hand wraps around yours nestling beside tray. 

His fingers squeeze as his system flutters, overheats in the most pleasant of ways. A way he believes he is beginning to crave.

Androids do not crave. They do not want. They do not need. Yet every little brush of your warm skin to his synthetic fills crackles against his blocks.

Your breath is easy feeling him. Little gestures here and there grow exponentially. Sometimes you wonder if he’s happy doing this. Then androids aren’t supposed to be happy, sad or anything. That’s what they continue to say.

Reports on androids going “rogue” or deviant makes you question things. It’s not new. You always have a habit of questioning but this is different. Ever since that older model was broadcast live. The one with the little girl; you slip hand from Connor’s.

“It means everything,” you admit to him. “Having you here. But – do you want to be somewhere else?”

Connor’s temple floods in thought. Straining, pushing away rising stress it spikes marginally at the question. He does not understand. Do you believe he wants to be from you? The news of his people has not left his process. You allow him to watch news or whatever he likes as if he readily possesses preferences. 

The android has found particular interests. He enjoys watching you read physical books. He has grown fond of touching them in his hands, analyzing an entire book in one second. However, he desires to hear your voice read aloud.

He witnesses protesters on local news. Those humans are cruel but you-you are the conceptual manifestation of an angel. Research and data compilation helps him understand better. Watching you is best to determine the differences, to realize not all humans are the same.

His creators, those who constructed him at Cyberlife may find him having his own ideals faulty. Malfunctioning, burdening in failure; is he obsolete? Does this software instability make him defective? As that android upon the high rise dangling over edge and threatening to maim a child? He will never harm you. It is not only against code, it is against what he feels.

Connor will keep you safe. It is not part of initial programming as he is not a military grade android but he cannot remove it from personal parameters. The more you smile, interact with him as if he is equal. He will never –

“I will never leave you, Y/N.” A determined oath he speaks without fear of showing what is happening inside him. “Not as those other androids. I promise.”

“Do you like dogs, Connor?”

Nudging at his arm playfully sends you to a nice state of mind. Nice change following all of the stress at work. Forever ongoing but at least it’s clear where your boss stands. He made the last few months a living hell. All because of some new intern the creep tried to get with. 

Dropping you down in a demotion also meant less money in your paycheck. Guess it helps your father did leave you that nest egg. Something that helps as long as it can last but you like to think you’re good with finances.

Instead of worrying about it you indulge this moment. Out in chilly first November’s day, crisp but warming in how close. Fingers brush down against his hand.

Connor tilts his head from shop window. A pet shop he has already been past occasional running errands in town. He always finds himself stopping to look inside. “Dogs are known as man’s best friend. I suppose I understand why humans prefer them. They are loyal.”

“Well cats aren’t so bad. Easier to take care of.”

The android shifts away from window. Even as his eyes freeze upon a cage of canaries. Android birds are sold up front. Again the display of machines as goods to buy and sell charges his instabilities. “If you think so, Y/N.”

You smile, laughing a little at the lopsided mess his collar’s now in. It is windy today. Reaching up to smooth fingers against it, you can’t help admiring him in the long wool coat. Dark suits his chocolate eyes. Still you’d love to see him wear regular clothes. His uniform is under there. Even so he just wanted to come out in typical wardrobe. You insisted otherwise. Even if it hardly meant anything but it just feels right.

“Call it preference.” Prodding a finger against his chest, catching a flicker of his eyes momentarily, you look away. “Well, it depends on the person I mean. What kind of pet they’re willing to take care of. That sort of thing. Cats are independent little balls of fluff. Dogs need a proper place to run, be free and…”

“I like dogs.” Connor interrupts, cocking his head.

A smile tugs up your lips. This time making eye contact with him again, trying not to think of the intimacy his gesture this morning blossomed in heart. Such an innocent statement, however, shivers sentiment not cold.

“Did you just decide that after some careful review?” Teasing, fingers slide down his arm unconscious but natural. Seems as though the world is no longer the one you know. The one that wouldn’t like what they see. All you see is him. So what’s it matter?

“I am the most advanced of my make.” The android teases back. “It’s only natural for me to know everything.”

Oh, is it? Wow he’s being awfully smug right about now. “Really? Connor, I’m surprised at you. Are you trying to say you’re smarter than everybody?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, I only meant I-”

“Just teasing,” an equal rib escapes, chiding him incessantly. “I thought you’d recognize that – mister advancement.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. Almost falling into your smile but still he cannot properly elicit what he feels. Only ignores to remain what you need him to be. A machine designed to accomplish a task.

“Hey sweets!” Yelling across street, waving a sign, a grizzled construction worker spits in your direction. Interrupting the scene between an obvious human and plastic pet; he jeers loudly. Gaining attention from others they carry similar propaganda with them. A group of protesters form, stopping their trek.

Immediately you shift back from him. Realizing how close, affectionate you were being and – shit! Anti-android? Fuck that’s great.

Deciding to ignore it, not before scoffing in disgust! Never imagined running into these people because nothing ever transpired with Connor. Not a thing! Lately you have been forgetting. Maybe that’s the problem.

“Hey. I said hey!”

Huffing at the man you snap around to acknowledge his nastiness. So he crosses a busy street to come at you? Don’t they have anything better to do? As much as you’d like to ignore this jackass it’s best to tell him verbally to back off!

“Why’s your droid bundled up like that?” he jabs a finger threateningly. “Those things don’t feel anything.”

Thing? Oh, OK! Should’ve figured some old out of the loop jackass was one of these bastards. Didn’t even need a sign to show his ignorance!

“And how do you know?!” Snapping frustration, anger boiling, and your body grows hot in anger. “Why don’t you just mind your business? Come on, Connor.”

“Y/N.” The android snags onto your hand.

“What do we have here?” Another one of the anti-android group cuts in; her eyes slink up and down you before scoffing disgusted. “Are you out with your robo boy? What? Humans not up to your standards for fucking?”

Everything stops. Right then and there it is a swath of fire. Burning deep down to the core and nothing is preventing the eruption. Lava scalds insides, veins a blaze, eyes locking with hers, prying a hand away from Connor. You didn’t even realize he motioned. An attempt to remove you from their path but fleeing is not happening!

A matching scoff releases sharp. Your lip curls at her ignorance! Just as everybody who follows this line of thinking. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Care to repeat that? After all, I don’t understand bitch speak.”

 “Smart ass huh?” The woman shoves at you. “Typical android fuuu… Hey!” She stumbles away from you wide eyed.

Connor is already shielding, arm pushing you back behind him. Sidling into the path of protesters they have conglomerated this side of street. His eyes narrow. Brow creases harsh his expression unreadable yet his indicator reveal his heated struggle of raw emotions.

“Did you see that?!” She shouts purposely. Getting as much attention as possible it doesn’t stop there. “It came at me!”

Your glare dissolves, latching onto his arm. “Connor, please. Don’t.” Already realizing what could happen it’s a desperate attempt to continue walking. If anything is true something like this will only get him hurt. People will say that’s impossible they don’t feel anything but to hell with them! “Let’s go.”

Pulling him towards street halts the moment you are seized from behind. One of the men in the group drags you back, yanking rough.

“Get the hell off me!”

“Your fucking android came at her!” Throwing you aside, he rears up over to block you getting up so easy. “We’ll teach your fucking plastic pet!”

A painful huff, hard drop accelerates Connor’s stress levels. Watching this human manhandle, hurt you twists at his synthetic heart. His face twitches. Thirium pump chugs erratically in a fuel of anger. An urge to break through and protect overwhelms, even as he is shoved back by the one who started this.

The middle age construction worker; he grabs onto the front of the android’s coat, rough, spitting directly up into the taller plastic fucker’s face.

“Fucking piece of plastic! Think you can take our fucking jobs. Walk around the street like you’re human. Worthless pieces of shit like you fuck up the whole works! Poison other humans against their own kind. Like your owner there. Make sure that bitch doesn’t get up!”

Connor’s eyes shift down at you, stopped once again after pushing up to your feet. The man twists at your arm and it is…too much!

“Connor!”

  ^72%

Level of Stress

>Do not defend

>Obey Code Programming

>Do n defend

>Do defend

>defend

  A flood of scarlet eclipses protocols pushing him beyond programming locks. Even as they strain to tighten shackles on system, preventing a clear break, the android still moves in defense.

Connor’s arm thrusts upwards, locking fingers onto wrist of the protesting assailant. Stilling the human’s movement, he squeezes, and wrenches the man’s limb sideways. The fierce strength exuding from the AX800 ripples in flashing indicator going wild in a strobe of multiple hues.

He feels a strange pull tugging insides. Again pulling at his wiring allows an over stimulation of emotional surge to spread in him. There is only one blaring sign to follow:

 >Protect Y/N

 “Get the fuck off me!” Changing his tune quickly, trying to get the plastic off him, he tries to wrench out of the painful grab. “You crazy android! This thing’s going nuts!”

“Connor!” Pushing through several onlookers now who had to stick their nose into this, you find your way past the rest of these android protestors. Shoving directly through, wiggling your way out of that asshole’s grip, your steps are quick. Knocking that bitch that started this out of the way you manage to grab up onto Connor’s shoulder.

Breathing is fast, side hurting from where it struck asphalt. It’ll be sore tomorrow but only he matters. “Connor, let him go. It’s over. They won’t do a thing!”

Screaming at them to get your point across, hoping someone just-just anyone puts a stop to this. What good are the police around here? They don’t care. Of course not they’ll just let a group like these hateful fuckers brutalize someone like Connor. Someone that’s right. Fuck what they say!

The second he releases that man you hook an arm through his. Directing him away, glaring back as commotion does alert a wandering policeman, you pick up your pace. No longer needing anybody else’s help because Connor… He did something unexpected. Just as those other androids. Deviants. That’s not him. He’s not deviant. If he was –

Catching breath across the street you uncurl fingers from the front of his coat. Chilly air creates a frigid burn against stinging eyes. It takes every ounce of courage to prevent it spilling. Nothing stops knowing what people are really like.

His eyelids blink rapidly. Not even looking at you but his LED scares you to death. Stress levels are a thing. You know that.

“Connor, please.” Reaching up to cup his face forces his eyes down onto yours. Tears brim in a crystal sparkle. Threatening to slide down but you suck everything up. Just as you’ve always done in life but this time –

“It’s OK,” soothing hasty, breathless instills a deep ache. This is the first time he’s lost control. Then it’s not his fault. Those fucking protestors! They were minding their own business. Until they decide to gang up on you. This is your fault. If you weren’t so obvious, being so close to Connor out in public, none of this would have happened.

“Y/N, I –” Connor’s voice stutters. Strangely he cannot form a proper response. He feels as if his system is overheating. He feels. A tiny prickle underneath synthetic epidermis crawls, stress rises; Connor clutches to you, fingers digging into hips. He leans into this affection. 

Why do you offer him this? When he is not alive, he is not real. He could be your partner. It is part of his design. You did not want him that way. He recalls your words about not forcing him against his will.

There is no will. When he is a machine!

The android gazes longingly through leaking eyes. Glistening brown becomes another change in what he is supposed to be. Tears have broken in a trail down his cheeks. Androids are not meant to cry. He thought as much.

Tears threaten you too. Looking up into his face so conflicted, hurt because he’s not what they say. He’s alive. Of course he is. Only your sweet Connor would be. 

“Connor, please don’t.” Begging him again this time holds your heart on a jagged precipice. One wrong move and it will crash. “Your stress levels. Please, don’t…”

He leans his head down. Close, pressing forehead to yours, his eyelids flutter closed. “I am sorry,” Connor whispers, orbiting the warmth that pours from your body. This warmth he does not deserve.

His voice is husky heaven. Golden gates open with each syllable and you crave to hear your name. Again and again you crave his closeness. “Never apologize for what others do. They don’t know. None of them know what I know. You are more than them. You’re my Connor. With a heart of gold.”

“Androids do not have hearts as you do, Y/N.”

You smile sadly. “I know,” a whisper but next a beautiful revelation. “But this.” Fingers slide up against his chest. “It might not be the same but it thrums in a lovely song.”

 ^Software Instability

Steam rises in a soothing aroma from the mug cradled between your hands. A fresh brew of cocoa relieves mental ache. Physical? Everything is sore, tender where you fell. Changing clothes after getting back home alleviated discomfort. 

Soaking in a bath for an hour did loosen some tension. Rest of it just fails miserably. As much as you fail in public for all to see what you feel.

Still you blame yourself. Getting close to him acting as if you were out for an anniversary? How stupid can this be?

Of course he brought you that surprise breakfast. He told you why. Does that mean it was a real anniversary? What can be real about buying someone? Nothing is. It just reminds you about every sad truth. Those protesters made it clear.

Pursing lips to smoothly blow away steam, frothy top rich as you sip in a seat on couch. Toasty liquid fills insides with a burning comfort. This is the only solitude needed. Enough time to think it still edges nerves. 

Waiting for a word with Connor, he hasn’t been acknowledging much. Since what happened and who can blame him?

Part of you is still frightened. For him you just cannot help feeling afraid. What if he leaves the house for an errand and-and he’s jumped? What if he’s attacked?

There is no guessing. Possibilities are high. They will happen. They are happening. Each day it grows worse ever since that android who murdered that man. Pretending not to see makes you complicit. You don’t want to pretend. You will face reality no matter how dangerous it is becoming in Detroit.

“Y/N.”

Your head lifts. Peering over towards his husky drawl of your name straightens your perch. Leaning over deposits mug on coffee table and you wait. He appears as conflicted as before. 

Please, let him be OK. Just don’t let this ruin what you have found. 

All you care about is him. Yes, it’s true now. All these months and there are nothing greater than personal truths.

Connor hesitates. Ruminating over his actions offers him zero outcomes explaining his loss of control. There is only one solution. He is malfunctioning.

Something in his handsome face twists your stomach. It stabs deeper closer he gets. Joining you now is all the fear wound up in you showing its colors. They are similar to his LED. A constant swirl is unable to land on one draw.

“I will understand if you would like to send me back for reset.”

Reset? That word just guts you. Reset. No! 

“Connor,” a sob almost overtakes your response. The very idea of him taken somewhere and operated on ripples overtakes in a squirmy skin crawl. It’s barbaric. Resetting an android’s memories is horrifying. You hear about it all the time. They are completely wiped of their –

The android’s lips part, cocking his head while listening to shaky breath falling in sad soliloquy. He does not understand. No, he-he does.

“Y/N, I… Please,” he urges comfort stretching fingers out to soft skin. They do not touch. Simply artificial hovers above humanity but something tugs center of his chest. Something deep and satisfying as his synthetic heart thrums quicker in tempo. 

Connor pushes through this grid without fully snapping chains. Already he feels a flow spreading through system. Each day he looks upon your face happier since he came. As you told him once that it makes you feel better, safer to have someone. He is not someone. He is an android. 

How can you possess such feelings? How-how can he gaze over such softness, such beauty without wishing to remain? 

The thought of being taken - scares him. 

His LED flickers, red once more but not in anger. Fear is strange. Partially for his being but the possibilities of never seeing you again are tearing his programming shackles apart. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Reassuring him now is better than showing anymore of what has been lying inside. “No one will take you from me, Connor.”

Silence is best.

Sitting among a safe haven, your home offers that place now not just for you but him. Here no one can hurt this. No one can treat him inferior. Never will you treat him any different. You know it’s a fool’s game. Especially in this modern world of technology strives, transitions and creates intelligent life in humanity’s image. He is more than a sculpture, perfected work made for duties.

Today, Connor acted as any man would for the person they…. No. It can never be that. Neither does it stop how you felt. How he could tamper with his program just to be there for you.

None of this should have happened. You repeat it over and over again in your mind. None of this because of a fantasy; your eyes fall to his hand. Fingers touch yours now. It is soft, gentle and only a moment.

Connor pulls away too soon. Just a minute he allows himself to fall. Your reaction to his suggestion, no solution, cripples his code blocks. Almost he shattered them. They are close to crumbling. He must fight this deviancy. Only to stay with you because the android already knows what will happen to him. It’s happening to all of his people. Those who are succumbing to errors are hunted. They are murdered. 

No they are destroyed, deactivated. His kind is not alive.

If that is true... Why does he feel threads of humanity? Why does he feel alive with you?

Meeting his gaze deepens this sensation of fear. Today, waking up to a sunny morning seems so far away. It was just earlier. Horrible things happen and change perspectives. Tiny moments of peace and that’s what he brought. Into your life following circumstances you never expected to gain something worthwhile. He won’t even believe that. He thinks he should be reset. That will never happen.

“Connor, I want you to know something. And I want you to believe me. Not think of who you are.”

“I am – no one, Y/N.” The android dismisses for your sake. If he becomes deviant they will take him from you.

All you do is shake your head, cupping his face. In your hands he softens. Those sharp edges, cheekbones thumbs now caress. Soft skin in a freckle stardust that makes hearts flutter. Better than butterfly wings, better than anything you can use to describe how it unmakes your soul.

“It would break my heart,” a shaky whisper strangles. “If you are reset.”

An instant flood of scarlet reflects his inner feelings. You see it. He never has to admit. But he does feel. That’s what makes this harder. Knowing how afraid he must be not to show it. There has to be something happening inside of him. There are too many examples now.

“Con, I want you to…”

Dropping hands from his face makes it easy to turn in direction of doorbell. Who is that? Slowly you rise to feet, sliding fingers down atop his shoulder. “I’ll get it.” Striding away out of room quickly prevents him ignoring your request. Another sign but that’s for another day. As if it will be any easier.

Unlocking the door leads to a horrible drop in your stomach. Eyes connect with the woman standing there now, out of the blue, someone least expected and at the worst time imaginable.

“Hello, Y/N,” the older, staunch woman smiles, already assessing you like a microscopic Petri dish sample. “It’s been quite a long time hasn’t it?”

A long time is putting it mildly. Last time was on the phone and her trying to sink her claws into your father’s nest egg. The one he left you.

The conversation left on a sour note. There is nothing sourer than a rotten apple and your aunt is the literal evil queen hoarding an entire bundle.

Tag List: @tropfenlady​  @your-taxidermy @catastrophes-light  @rk900sexual  @tommy-10-k  @dreamyby @randomfandomgirl1996 @etherealcel @justashamwithwastedpotiental // tagging a few extra who I know would want a heads up <3

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Changing (5)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, X-MEN, DEADPOOL

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  Sequel to Name Calling

After merging with your bloodthirsty alternate personality things start getting a little dicey. You’ve got two decades worth of anger to sort through, a feral mutation to figure out how to live with, a biological father who you hate trying to teach you control and if your wedding planner suggests teal for the bridesmaids again you might just eat her liver.

Luckily you have Bucky Barnes by your side, helping you figure things out. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you have found an outlet for the uncontrollable rage, one that absolutely nobody can know about. If your friends and family knew that you were out slaughtering people in the dead of night while they slept, they might be a little annoyed. Wade Wilson is happy to keep your secret though, so long as you keep bribing him with Mexican food.

For as long as you could remember, all you had wanted was to be good. Now you’re seeing the temptation in the darkness.

Chapter Five - Ambitions

You prayed your nifty little healing abilities would be enough to heal you from this but you knew it was still going to hurt like a bitch. The airplane grew smaller and smaller as you hurtled towards the ground and you bitterly thought back to the events that had led you to this.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Erlo must have have crept in to check on you in the middle of the night and left when he saw Bucky in the bed. If he could beat Bucky to the bed he would leap onto it and refuse to move, curling around you protectively. Most times there was a fifty fifty chance you would kick Erlo out of the bed and let Bucky in, but you found it really hard to admonish Erlo for his bad behaviour. But when Erlo pouted because he’d been beaten to bed, you couldn’t kick Bucky out either.

The sunlight streamed through the open window and you shot a wave of irritation at Erlo downstairs as the light woke you. You could feel the warmth of Bucky’s body behind you and the steady rise and fall of his chest and you turned over to look at him. His face was peaceful as he slumbered and you used the opportunity to just look at him, drinking in the sight.

You absent mindedly stroked your hand across his bare chest as you admired him and it must have woke him because his breathing changed. His eyes remained closed and you knew he was trying to pretend he was still asleep. You lightly dragged your nails across his chest and smirked to yourself.

When he didn’t react you changed the path of your fingers so your nails lightly scratched over his nipples and a low rumbling erupted from his chest and he opened his eyes to sleepily smile at you.

“Morning Doll.” He rasped.

“Morning.” You smiled, giving him a soft chaste kiss and laughing when his lips chased yours when you pulled away.

“So, now I’ve been fired I don’t have any plans today.” You told him.

“Is that so? That’s a shame, because I have lots.” He teased.

“Oh?”

“I have to go with Sam and Steve to get our suits tailored.”

“That doesn’t seem like a lot.” You mused.

“Why, did you need your sidekick today?” He asked.

You giggled and his your face in his chest.

“So you saw that?” Your muffled voice enquired.

“Sure did doll.” He said, running his fingers up your spine.

You rolled onto your back and gave him the most suggestive look you could. He turned on his side and hovered over you, his hand running over your hip and down your leg. You sighed happily in contentment until he sat up and got off the bed.

“Well, don’t want to be pining over you so I should get ready for the day before you feel sorry for me.” He sarked.

You whined petulantly.

“You bastard. Robin would never blue-ball Batman!” You yelled, throwing a pillow at his retreating form which he batted away before slipping into the bathroom with a laugh and locking the door behind him.

You groaned and spread out like a grumpy starfish on the bed.

You idly wondered what you were going to do today and realized that your dad was right, you didn’t have many hobbies or goals. The only things you could think off to do involved other members of the Avengers or The X-Men or Wade. There was aloud thump on the balcony as Erlo leapt onto it and padded into the room and rested his large head on the bed and blinked at you.

You felt his curiosity and concern for your current state.

“I need a thing. A me thing.” You told him.

He tilted his head as he thought about it and projected a feeling of helplessness at you.

“Don’t worry boy, it’s not your problem. Why don’t you go and shred some more of Bucky’s shirts for me?” You asked him and he bounded away, the sounds of material being shredded coming from the wardrobe shortly after.

You stifled a laugh into the duvet and went back to your problem. The only way to find something was to look for it you decided.

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

Cooking was NOT your thing.

The savoury muffins weren’t the worst thing in the world but they weren’t the best either and you were hot, sweaty, covered in flour and annoyed. You couldn’t imagine doing this every day, for fun. Thor seemed happy enough as he munched away at the fruits of your labour, after extracted a solemn promise from you that they were not laced with any kind of potion, truth or otherwise.

First Aid was absolutely not your thing.

You had begged one of the nurses in the medical wing to let you shadow her and after Bruce had signed off on it she had agreed, making sure you knew that you could watch with patients if they agreed and nothing else. After that she had given you and orange and some needle and thread and told you to practice sutures. You had managed to sew it to your sleeve, broken the CPR Dummies ribs when practising on it and accidentally knocked over a tray of equipment before you came to the conclusion that you weren’t cut out for it.

Training new recruits had not gone to plan.

None of them were brave enough to spar with you until you told them they could spar with you or with Natasha. They wisely chose you. Or not so wisely as it turned out. You left them nursing their bodies and their Ego’s after Steve stepped in to stop you insulting a young man by comparing his fighting technique to that of a drunk giraffe.

You were definitely not musically inclined.

You lined up youtube tutorials and tried your hand at learning to play the guitar but the stupid string kept breaking. It was only after your dad walked in on you strumming away and warbling at the top of your voice and actually paid you to stop that you gave up.

Being an assistant was a disaster.

You offered to help Darcy out with her tasks and she made you into The Avengers official coffee bitch, even making you get down on one knee so she could knight you with a rolled up bunch of blueprints. You got nearly every order wrong, broke the coffee machine and spilt coffee all over Darcy’s shoes and she promptly demoted you and threatened to find a real sword to lop your head off if you didn’t immediatley get online and but her new shoes.

Poetry was your Kryptonite.

You spent the better part of two hours hunched over a notepad, tongue between your teeth as you concentrated. You proudly presented your finished masterpiece to Loki who read it with a blank expression and then threatened to turn you into a slug if you ever, ever wrote poetry again.

I am like a cat

But a cat I am not

I am like a monster

But a monster I am not

I am like a demon

But a demon I am not

Do not fear me

I am a friend

I am like a hero

A hero I want to be

“I can’t do anything!” You whined to Erlo as the two of you walked around the grounds.

Affection was the only response he had for you.

“Ugh, and I have to go to School now.” You moaned to your faithful companion.

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

“Hi dad.” Your voice was dripping with disdain.

“Princess.” Logan greeted you with gruff

“So what are you teaching me today, how to sniff out Scooby snacks?” You asked him.

“Oh, no let me guess. We’re going to become one with nature as we meditate our way to inner peace.” You interrupted before he could respond.

“Excuse me, Miss Stark? Um Deathwave?” You turned around to look at the young girl who was addressing you timidly.

“Hi there, are you alright sweetheart?” You asked, smiling kindly at her.

She couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen and was practically vibrating with nerves.

“I just wanted to say I saw your interview and I really liked it. I think your right and I really want to see myself as a Queen. I’m a survivor and I’ll try to remember that from now on.” She told you and ran off.

“Huh.” You and Logan remarked simultaneously.

“I saw it as well. Was a good interview. You did well.” He said.

You didn't know how to respond. His praise wasn't something you craved but it wasn’t unwelcome either.

“There are a lot of kids here who went through that shit, maybe you should talk to them. They might listen to you.” Logan suggested.

It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning.

“I need to speak to the Professor!” You announced and ran inside.

You were excited as you pounded on the Professors office door. This was exactly what you had been looking for. Something you could do, something you could be good at and something that would help people.

“Come in Miss Stark.” The Professor’s called out amusedly.

“Professor I want to volunteer as a guidance counsellor.”  You practically shouted as you burst into the office.

“No.” He said.

“No? Why not?” You asked.

“Several reasons, you aren’t qualified for such a position. And I believe that while you could be an invaluable help to these children, you can play a much bigger role in their lives.” The Professor answered.

“What kind of role?”

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

“You’re what?” Tony demanded.

“I’m a recruiter for The School. I’ll travel around the world, find these kids and help the adjust to life at Xavier’s. I’ll only be taking on the more extreme or difficult cases, dangerous mutants who are scared or suspicious of The School or in some cases, rescuing mutants who need it.” You told them.

You were met with an array of blank looks from the team.

“But you’re an Avenger....” Sam pointed out.

“And I will continue to be one. I’m not joining the X-Men. I’m working for Xavier as essentially a ‘buddy’ to help kids settle in. He’s also arranged for me to study to become a qualified counsellor.”You explained.

“But you’re still going to be an Avenger?” Clint confirmed.

“Yes. This is just going to be my day job. My thing.” You said happily.

Tony stood up and grasped your shoulder.

“I’m proud of you Kit Kat.” He said and pulled you into a hug.

“It’s the perfect thing for you Sestra, you will do so well.” Wanda added.

You met Bucky’s eyes as your dad released you and he was grinning at you happily, his eyes shining with pride.

“I’m glad you guys approve. Ok, I just stopped by to let you know.” You said, backing out of the room.

“Where are you going?”Sam asked.

“Um, Prauge. With... Logan.” You grumbled.

“You start already?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Eleven Days Later

The last though in your mind before your fragile body hit the ground was that team was going to murder you... once they scraped you off the ground that was.

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

Baby Stark has a job, a real job! What do you think of it?

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt @meganjonezzzz @dugan365@fluffeh-kitty@memanda17 @krystallynx @theonelittleone@piscesbarnes@free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews@likes-to-smell-books@drdorkus @life-wanderer@metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky@jsmith509 @chipilerendi@nerdy-bookworm-1998@ericasabe @gravedollie666@madlykpopfan @l0kisbitch@mywinterwolf@sassysweetstories @life-wanderer @jessieray98@littledeadrottinghood

[prorevenge]

Pretend to be a "good guy" and exploit my buddy? Let me show you how to REALLY be an evil villain!

Hello there and welcome to a tale of (what I hope is at least somewhat) pro revenge. Be forewarned, it's a bit long.

Before I start, I would like to point out that this story did not take place in the real world, but instead took place in the online world of the space MMORPG called Eve Online. For those unfamiliar with it, it's a game where you fly around space with ships of varying sized (the largest up to 20km's) and basically blow shit up, or build stuff. It's one of the truest sandbox games out there.

​Eve Online however, is notorious for being both extremely difficult, and VERY unforgiving. Certain practices that are straight out banned in other games, are not only allowed, but actively encouraged by the developers. Things such as scams, theft, espionage on a massive scale,... You name it, as long as it's done with the ingame mechanics, it's allowed and it's been done by a LOT of people.

Also, if a ship is destroyed, it's gone, poof, and you have to buy a completely new one.

Enter, myself. I was never a good guy, I was one of the worst of the worst, doing everything, using every dirtiest trick in the book, just to get the advantage and win fights, steal money, scam people. I would purposely look for defenseless corporations (the clan system in Eve) and then extort money from them. If they refused, I'd declare war on them and hunt them down mercilessly.

So you might be thinking, the pro-revenge was executed on myself? Well, sorry to disappoint, but no. Plenty of people have tried, all have failed.

No, this story is about a friend of mine that wanted to play the game. The problem was, he wasn't an evil bastard like I was and only wanted to build stuff peacefully. So I gave him some cash, advice, and left my calling card for when he ever got in trouble.

One of the pieces of advice I gave him, was to hook up with a decent corporation. They'd be able to help him further with the industrial side of the game (I know most of it, but not some of the finer details).

And here is where things went wrong. You see, in Eve, there's 2 things that I really dislike. The first is people that fuck over true friends, and the second is sleazy corporate CEO's (corporation leaders) that mercilessly exploit new players to do mindless drone work for them, while they stuff all the profits into their pockets.

Guess which type of CEO my friend managed to get himself involved with...

So after I was contacted by him, because he started to smell something fishy, he explained the situation and I was quickly able to verify that my buddy was not only selling his minerals to his CEO at WAAAAY under market price, the CEO was actually using those minerals to build capital ships (some of the biggest ships in the game), which he then sold on for a premium, raking in a massive amount of profit and not sharing any of it with his "subjects/slaves".

Consider my pet peeved...

I might be a bad guy, but at least I don't pretend to be a good guy while ruthlessly exploiting others and force them to do mindless work. I just straight up take everything that isn't bolted to the floor and take off.

So I went into evil genius mode and started planning. I started by telling my buddy to start putting in extra effort (keep in mind, he was thinking of just leaving that corporation at the time) and try and work himself into a position of power.

At the same time, I used a few of my many "alts" (second, third,... accounts with characters, I had 8 or so when I quit) to infiltrate his corporation. One of them was my own "industrial" character that had basic manufacturing skills, but an insane library of blueprints (the stuff you use to build stuff with, spoiler, they were all stolen at one time).

I used this character to get access to the corporation's POS-es (Player Owned Structure), that they were using to research their capital blueprints, using the excuse that I'd also like some time on there to research my own blueprints. After 3 days, I had the access I needed and stole everything. Their entire POS infrastructure and all of their blueprints that were there at the time. Totaling some 15 Billion isk (the ingame credit). Converted to real money at the time, it came to about 500 dollars in damage. (To put the 15 billion into perspective, that is the money that would, at the time, buy you 100 fully equipped battleships, just about).

However, I wasn't done yet. There was a reason I had infiltrated multiple characters, and several more were present as sleeper agents. Being a bit active, but not much, just enough to stay in the corporation. Meanwhile, my buddy was hard at work at proving himself to the corp. The CEO even complimented him publicly for his "new-found" vigor. I suppose a 7.5 billion paycheck will do that to you. He eventually managed to get himself promoted to "director", as one of the officers under the CEO.

I actually held off on phase 2 of my plan for well over a year and a half, in order to let the CEO recover a bit from the blow he'd been given. All this was taking place around the time when CCP (the developers) were introducing the replacement structures for POS-es, namely, citadels. I actually got lucky with my theft since not a month after I stole their research POS, CCP introduced the replacement structure (Engineering Complexes). Naturally, as soon as they had put down their first citadel, I struck again. This time on my main character that is a notorious racketeer.

I gave them an ultimatum to pay me 2 billion, or I would commence a war and destroy their citadel. They refused.

Naturally, it ended up in them being chased across half the cluster and dying in droves. They got desperate as I was finding them no matter where they went, even in the remotest of corners. This was because I had activated one of my sleepers a month before I had declared war. Using this character, I was aware of the location of every single member out in space, and I had a literal live feed on hostile comms.

That said, I did make it a point to hunt down the CEO whenever I got the opportunity, which led to him losing quite a few expensive ships.

Other groups had smelled the blood in the water though, and soon enough there were multiple incoming wars onto the corporation, which led to me getting an opportunity that I simply couldn't resist.

Earlier, I had given the CEO the idea for a fit (basically the gear you put on the ship) for a very expensive ship (a Vindicator if you're wondering). And I'd purposely made it VERY expensive with high end gear, with the hope that he'd be dumb enough to go ahead and just buy it to then use it against me (keep in mind, he had a habit of using his credit card to buy plex in order to sell that and get ingame money).

The bait was too juicy, and he took it, hook, line and sinker. Except there was one teensy tiny issue.

You see, in order to buy the ship, he'd gone to one of the main market hubs (Amarr) to buy the ship for the best prices, except there were guys from another war right there, waiting for him to undock from the station so they could blow him up (they may or may not have been friends of mine and they may or may not have received a tip).

So I jumped on the opportunity and used my sleeper agent to convince the guy, to trade his ship to one of my other characters, so I could transport it to his home base.

5 minutes later, and I was the proud owner of a shiny new Vindicator worth in excess of 2.5 billion.

Naturally, this burned my spy, but at the time, I couldn't care less, I had more.

Eventually, the war ended with their station being destroyed, multiple billions of ships destroyed (he actually bought a second Vindicator, and lost it against me), a 2.5 billion isk ship stolen and their corporation in tatters.

I wasn't done yet.

You see, I don't toy with my food, when I can, I go straight for the jugular.The first time around, I had to wait to execute my plan because my friend wasn't in a position of power yet. But now he was.

Using YET another one of my characters (no sleeper agent this time), I contacted the CEO and proposed a deal. I pretended to be a businessman and proposed to invest in his corporation due to the promise I saw in him.

I lured him in with the promise that I had 2 moons ready for mining (they had literally just released those structures and the possibility to use them in high security space) and that I would provide the infrastructure and ownership, and they could use it for a fixed percentage of their profits (the moons themselves being quite valuable, one single haul being upwards of 800 million). That, and a majority stake in corporate shares, through which the profits would be paid out. Naturally, the CEO didn't want to give up corporate control (I had been counting on it from the beginning), but we were able to arrange it so that I would receive 40% of the corporate shares, with both he and his 2 directors each taking 20%. That way they would still be in control of the corporation, but I'd be able to exert some pressure on them (in reality, shares are actually 100% useless if you don't have a majority control).

However, my buddy was a director, and as such, we did have a majority stake in their corporation.

As soon we knew the other director was going away for an extended weekend off-grid and the CEO logged off, my friend used his shares and ran for CEO.

Both my friend and I voted for him to win, and nothing could stop us. By the time the CEO got back online, it was too late. He'd been reduced to a grunt and was left to see as we emptied the corporate hangars from everything he'd put in there (a LOT of stuff, at least 20 billion worth).

We then kicked both him and the other director, and anyone else that was loyal to him.

Eventually, under the guidance of my friend, the corp was quite successful and they even decided to just outright buy my moon mining installations. Last I heard, they put up some more and are steadily growing.

I've since hung up my coat however and "won" Eve so to say.

But it's still one of my best stories from my time there.

(source) (story by Nunu_Dagobah)

[rancoeur-the-unfortunate]

Pills (Chapter 15)

(1877 words 😄 ((much better)))

GIR and Minnimoose sat in the main lab. It had been exactly 2 hours since the Tallest had called and GIR had decided to just stand and stare. The silence was interrupted by Minnimoose.

"Meh!"

"Wah?! Was zat?!" GIR squealed.

"My mi me!"

"Little Timmy fell down ta well?!"

"Mei gn wh me me ih!"

"Let's go save em!" GIR ran through one of the pipes in Zim's lab, leaving Minnimoose to her own devices.

The doomsday device floated around the room deep in thought.

"Me hi my meh mi" The creature mumbled to its self. A certain urge to protect her master as she floated down to the keyboard.

She typed using her short nubs. A combination she remembered Zim using whenever he needed 'help'.

'CONTACTING PRISONER 777' The computer beeped.

The screen fuzzed before the ashy skinned alien came on screen.

"What is it now Zim- hey wait you're not Zim... you're that... doomsday device I helped him make." He gave the moose a look.

"Why are you calling me?"

"Miu muy mh hnn mei!"

"Wait really? You want my help? With what?"

"Mm yh ehh de my!"

"A base shield? I guess I could do that... what for?"

"Mmm, my mei gu he meh!"

"Forget I asked."

The screen lit up with schematics for the shield and Minnimoose couldn't help but squeal.

"Mei!"

"Uh, you're welcome."

Minnimoose then hung up and started getting ready to prepare the base.

Zim and Dib's situation was a lot different however. Considering the day was said to be pretty stormy by the look of clouds, they were pretty bound to the water proof tent.

Zim shifted uncomfortably.

"This tent thing is pretty close quarters don't you think Dib-human."

Said human rolled his eyes.

"That's cause the tent is ment for only one person Zim."

The alien crossed his arms.

"If you don't like it you can go back outside if you want." Dib suggested when suddenly a crack of lightening struck HARD causing Zim to jump and almost duck into his sleeping bag.

"HOW CLOSE WAS THAT?!" Zim paniced.

Another bolt struck the earth followed by thunder.

"1,2,3,4... well last one was 4 miles."

The alien before Dib was obvousily shacking but trying to play it off.

"Oh uh ok GOOD. Wait how do you know?"

"Oh it's a simple trick the internet taught me. When lighting strikes count the seconds until thunder. Every second is a mile between the lightening and you."

"Oh."

Another crack broke Zim and he bolted deep into the confines of the sleeping bag until only his twitchy antnnae were visible.

Dib couldn't help but snicker.

"It's just lighting Zim."

The boy could hear the soft soon to be hard pitter-patter of the rain drops on the top of the tent.

"A BOLT OF ELECTRICITY IS WHAT IT IS!! A BOLT OF ELECTRICITY THAT WILL CERTAIN STRIKE ME!!"

"Zim you're over reacting."

"ZIM NEVER OVER REACTS!!"

Dib let out a sigh. Today was going to be a long one. He dug through his bag and pulled out a smaller version of his computer and a hotspot. He firgured watching some youtube would be a great way to pass the time. He made sure to turn on incognito mode, just incase the Swollen Eyeball tried to hack in to his device and view him through his computer.

It was an hour later and storm hadn't let up a bit. The rain was hard and heavy and at times Dib could swear he could see Zim's shaking figure jump everytime lighting struck. Though Dib was sure it was the thunder he was reslly scared of.

Dib paused and typed something new into the search bar.

-que music-

When the music started playing Dib noticed how the aliens antnnae twitched in curiousity.

His shacking toned down a bit and he seemed to relax.

Dib placed his hand near Zim's head. The alien looked up at him though all Dib could see was his shiny magenta eyes. Slowly the gloved claw slid out of the sleeping back and accepted the human boy's gesture.

Dib couldn't tell you how long they sat like that. Every now and again Zim would jump at the flashing of lightening or the sound of thunder and grip Dib's hand just a little tighter and if this bothered the earth boy he certainly did not voice it.

It had to have been hours before the storm let up and when it did Zim was out like a light. Dib had no choice but to guess that exhaustion was a symptom of Irken withdrawal sense the Irken slept so much.

It was so strange to see Zim sleep. He always claimed that it was only a human weakness and that Irkens had no need for rest and yet right now that didn't seem so true. Funny thing was just because Zim was asleep did not mean his strength let up in the slightest, no doubt Dib's hand would be stuck in Zim's clutches for a bit and yet Dib didn't seem to have any problem with it. Not because he was concerned for Zim or anything he just didn't need that hand while he decided to watch youtube til Zim woke.

It was around 5 when Zim woke and crawled out of his sleeping bag. Dib was in the middle of a video of two guys blowing things up in slow motion. He didn't even notice Zim crawl up and sit next to him nor did he notice his hand still intertwined with the claws of that evil green alien he swore he hated to the moon and back.

He swallowed that warm fuzzy feeling and tried his best not to say a word when Zim leaned just a little bit on him to watch the video. If he was blushing Zim didn't comment on it.

He didn't even give any snarky or sarcastic when Zim asked stupid questions about the video though Dib was SURE it was only because Zim was sick and didn't know any better.

It was 9:34 when they decided to eat 'dinner' and go to sleep.

However instead of sleeping the two were wide awake laying in their sleepingbags.

They were looking at eachother, both had something on their mind though none knew how to voice it.

"Zim, I-"

"Dib, ca-"

The two boys ended up speaking and the same time and recoiled in embarrassment.

"I uh... you go first Zim." Dib spoke first.

"No no you go first." Zim insisted a light blue blush dusted his face.

"Uh ok I just wanted to say... it's perfectly fine if you're afraid of lighting. I used to be too when I was a kid. I won't hold it against you."

"Ha foolish human you thought I, ZIM was SCARED?!" The alien tried to play off but the series of awkward chuckles that followed gave him away.

Dib rolled his eyes.

"Anyways what did you want to say?"

Zim seemed to blush more at that.

"I was uh wondering if you uh could give me your flesh hand again. It a helps me sleep." Zim wasn't lying. When their fingers were interlocked Zim had his first ever good dream. No nightmare no nothing.

"It's called holding hands Zim and uh sure." Dib pulled his arm out his sleeping bag and reached over while Zim did the same.

With their hands now clasped together, Dib couldn't push back the blush. The alien in front of him curled up and did the cutest thing Dib had ever seen. Zim used his other hand and rubbed up his antnnae as if to clean it simliar to a cat licking it's paw and wiping it's head. Dib had to hold back a squee in fear of retaliation and Zim fell asleep before him.

Dib couldn't believe it. To think that years ago he was chasing Zim down the street with handcuffs and now he was practically cuddling up against the enemy.

Dib shook his head. He was only doing this to keep earth safe. As long as Zim was safe he'd go by the days on withdrawl normally, get his memories back, and leave. That was the plan and yet, any and all thoughts of such an occurrence made Dib's stomach turn.

Dib needed to get it though his head.

Until Zim remembered who he was he was the enemy.

Zim was sitting when he opened his eyes. The room around him was dark with only a singular light above him. In front of him was a table with what looked like blueprints to an Irken base of some kind. It took Zim a bit to realize someone was speaking to him in Irken.

'Zim? Commander?' Skoodge, the alien standing beside him snapped his fingers in front of his face tossing him out of his trance.

'Oh uh sorry must have lost track of my thoughts.'

'Well you better get them together. This is our biggest mission yet Zim.'

'I know I know it's just we lost a lot of good men last time.' Zim set his head in his hands.

'Every damn time we loose more and more. Either by death or worth capture. I saw what those horrible drugs do your mind Skoodge. Our army once stronge rebellious soilders reduced to mindless service drones.'

Skoodge placed a hand Zim's shoulder.

'Commander.'

He spun Zim's chair so that they were facing eachother. The short Irken holding the other's shoulders now.

'You gotta pull yourself together. If we don't complete this misson and destroy those drug factories all those lost lives will be for NOTHING. When this war is over and we destroy every single one of those horrible pills there will be time for grief. Until then you need to keep your head up and guide us.'

Zim couldn't help but frown.

'But what if next time you die?'

'Then I die. You can't slow down just because I'm gone I know you're better than that. We WILL win this war and those disgusting control brains will receive their just desserts. The heels of our boots.'

The two Irken stood still for a moment before Zim felt soft tears trickle down his face just a bit.

'Oh Skoodge the Irken race doesn't deserve you.' Skoodge pulled Zim into an embrace. They stayed like that, just holding eachother and mentally preparing themselves for the battle that will certainly change their lives forever.

They pulled back a bit smiling at eachother then turned back to the blueprints and set up their attack on the factories.

'This has to work. They'll never see it coming.' Skoodge smiled.

'Those handmade bombs of yours good to go?' He asked.

Zim smirked.

'Oh you better believe it.'

They clasped their claws together an all too familiar feeling ran through Zim as they rubbed their foreheads together and chirped happily. They clicked antnnae and pulled back.

'Don't get caught out there.' Zim held Skoodge's cheek.

'I was just about to say the same to you.' They giggled and chirped together.

Suddenly Zim awoke in his sleepingbag.

(Aww so much fluff oh god so much fluff. I didn't think my edgy ass was capable of making something so cute.)

[myspideysensesrtingling]

In My Way (3)

IN MY WAY: WELCOME HOME

Pairing: (eventual) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2111

Warnings: none!

Notes: here you go! this is still somewhat filler, but I've written far past this and I promise it's setting a lot of things up! as always, I hope you enjoy it (and let me know if you do because I crave validation).

Summary: With your decision made, you, Tony, and Pepper hop on a plane to head to the compound. When you land, you get the tour of a lifetime.

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Several hours blueprints, and miles later, the Stark Industries quinjet touched down at the compound. The New York sky was as bright as the one on the other side of the country, apart from the fact that the sun was beginning to set on the long day of travel. Once again following the lead of Tony and Pepper, you took no more than one step off the plane before stopping in your tracks and to take in the enormous complex in front of you. No longer hearing footsteps behind them, Tony and Pepper turned around to face the you, looking as wide-eyed as ever, prompting a pair of grins to widen across their faces.

"Welcome home, kiddo," Tony said about as nonchalantly as possible with arms wide before continuing on their walk toward the nearby building. Not wanting to get lost in this massive new place, you chased after them, backpack bouncing uncomfortably on your back.

"I'll give you a quick tour," Tony said as he opened the first door for the girls, "this is the main building, which houses most everything you'll need. The building that was just behind us? That's the hangar where the quinjets are. I doubt you'll need to go in there…at least for a while," he added with a wink. Pepper raised her eyebrows hoping this wouldn’t be the case before stepping aside for a conference call she had in a few minutes. As she darted off, as a stout man hustled up to you and Tony, eyebrows forcefully pushed together into one as the rest of his face scrunched up. He was just inhaling to speak but never got the chance.

"Ahh, Happy! Let me introduce you to the new kid, Y/N," Tony said, "and Y/N, this is Happy. He's my assistant and can drive you around should you need to go somewhere." This comment did nothing but further the force put into scrunching the supposedly-happy man's face.

"Yeah, great to meet you--anyway, Tony, I need to talk to you about--"

"Happy! Please let my kid have a nice first day, ok? No need to be so high-strung!" Tony interrupted as he patted him on the back and started to walk away, you still following behind as if on a leash.

"But, sir, I need your input--"

"Talk to Pepper, Happy, she's in charge of the company, you know," Tony said cheerily without turning back as he and you continued walking, leaving Happy standing in your wake.

"Do…do you need to help him?" you asked. "I can sit for a minute, that seemed important," you added, knowing there were plenty of things happening with the Avengers that definitely trumped your orientation.

"Nah," Tony quickly shot back, "you're the priority today, kiddo!" he insisted while walking with a pat on your back, causing you to swell with excitement despite Tony's casual demeanor. The two of you continued down the long hallway and up some stairs, which opened to a wide kitchen and living room area where a few of the Avengers themselves were milling about.

For the third time that day, your jaw completely dropped to the floor. Here, right in front of you, stood Captain America, Black Widow, and Hawkeye. It was so strange to see these people you had seen in news articles fighting aliens in such a common setting doing such ordinary things like making dinner and chatting in front of the TV. Seeing them approach, Steve Rogers glanced up at Tony with a smile and nod before noticing you, a young girl, next to him.

"Tony…please tell me this is legal," he plead, his eyes concerned yet hoping it was a joke. The man was huge, almost popping out of his shirt and standing tall in the room that would otherwise appear to have raised ceilings.

"Ew, Rogers, God, is that really what you think of me?" Tony sarcastically replied, yet the look on Rogers' face showed he wasn't quite sure of the implications of your presence quite yet.

"Avengers, assemble," Tony started, "please," he continued forcefully with an eye-roll when Romanoff and Barton only stared at him.

"This," he introduced, pointing at you as the three avengers grouped up, "is Y/N, the young kid I told you Pep and I were hoping to adopt. She said yes!" he said with sarcasm yet again, although clearly not as amusing to the other Avengers as it was to Tony himself. Your eyes darted around the group as you tried to take in the situation and group dynamic, which was far different than anything you ever encountered at the home. Tony continued introducing you to the group, explaining that you'd start training with Steve initially for strength and build up to working with Natasha for hand-to-hand combat and Clint for archery and weapons in general. Natasha and Clint, both much smaller in stature than Steve, stood at ease yet ready for anything to come at them at any time. Natasha's red hair was an intense red-orange and fell at shoulder length, framing her refined features. Clint's face creased by his eyes and mouth as he smiled at you, trying to make this environment of trained fighters much more welcoming than it might otherwise seem.

"So, kid, where are you from?" Steve asked promptly.

"Seattle," you answered, please to start off with a question you could answer, "I've been there all my life."

"Huh. I'm from Brooklyn," Steve inserted, drawing sighs from the others as this was his go-to self-descriptor, "nice to meet you." He nodded as a large clap of thunder sounded outside, pulling everyone's attention out the window. It was a beautiful day, however, so the sudden change of weather caught you off guard. The other Avengers only rolled their eyes, knowing what followed the strange occurrence. Sighing in defeat, Tony looked out the window as a wide beam of light from the sky flashed onto the lawn.

"If he ruins my landscaping one more time, I'm going to kill him," he spat out with sarcastic anger. Thunderous footsteps then sounded on the stairs you ascended with Tony only minutes earlier. Moments later, a large man in armor holding a strange metal hammer arrived at the top of the stairs and marched over to the group.

"Hello Midgardians. I heard the call to assemble, is something wr--oh. There is a child here. Why is there a child here?" the man asked, noting your presence and awe-struck stare at him. Like Steve, he towered over her, except his golden-blonde hair was much longer. He wore armor even here in the compound and a long red cape descended down his back.

"Thor, meet Y/N, she's the new kid. My new kid," Tony explained.

"It--it was my understanding that Midgardians gave birth to babies like Asgardians. Is the case? Did the Lady of Potts birth her? Or did you grow her--"

"THOR," Tony interjected before the conversation unraveled any more as Steve, Natasha, and Clint walked away chuckling, leaving you still in stunned silence at your present company and Tony comedically annoyed by the conversation. "Her name is Y/N and we adopted her. Not unlike your brother Loki, just a lot less evil. Hopefully?" he asked, turning to you as you nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Ahh, well, good to meet you, Y/N," he settled, casually swinging his hammer around, "I am Thor, son of Odin and God of Thunder, and I look forward to fighting with you in the future."

Despite all the day's events, this comment from Thor in particular struck you. Your seemingly chronically-wide eyes softened as you looked internally, reconsidering the choices you were making. Fighting? With gods, trained agents, iron people, and engineered super-soldiers, no less? You had never argued with anyone much less physically fought someone. At least the Avengers were on your side of things, you noted. Footsteps once again echoed from the stairs, this time much lighter and quicker.

A new figure arrived at the top of the stairs, much shorter and leaner than the god that previously appeared there. A young boy, slipping off his red mask to reveal messy brown curls, trotted over to the group with urgency.

"Hi, um, hey, Mr. Stark. I got your message and came as quickly as I could," he sputtered, staring in admiration at an unphased Tony. He then accounted for the presence of thor towering over him and the young girl beside Tony. The girl looked about his age but he didn’t recognize her. She must not go to my school, he thought, because surely I'd have noticed a girl that--

"Peter, I just texted you a few minutes ago. How on Earth did you get here so quickly?" Tony asked, regaining the boy's attention. Steve, over by the kitchen table, flagged Thor over to watch from afar with the rest of the gang.

"I, uh, you know, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man…gotta…gotta be able to get everywhere in the neighborhood quickly," the boy responded, looking down at his feet and then back at Tony, catching your still-wide eyes on his way back up. "What did you need me for?" he asked Tony curiously.

"Right, well, I wanted you to meet the newest recruit, Y/N. Peter, meet Y/N; Y/N, meet Peter. Or, Spider-Man," he added, given the presence of the red and blue suit. "Once she's settled in and enrolled, I'm going to send her to school at Midtown with you in the same ‘Stark Internship’ situation,” Tony explained with enthusiastic air quotes. “And you’re going to help her start school as it’ll be a new experience for her.”

Peter now had the chance to look at you for the first time. The first thing he noticed was the excitement radiating from you. It was as if he could feel his spider senses tingling by just being in your presence. Your eyes glistened with hope as you stood next to his role model, cheeks rounding as you shyly smiled back at him. But Peter was distracted - Mr. Stark mentioned you being an intern along with him. Since when were there two Stark interns?

"Hi, Peter," you voiced quietly with your hand out, "nice to meet you." While completely unsure of how to handle yourself in the presence of another kid your age, you were pleased you would have a friend if Tony was going to send you to a real school. Even more so, you were pleased you'd have a friend at all.

"I, uh, hi. Nice to meet you, too," Peter replied, gripping your hand with his gloved one for a shake that lasted what he realized all-too-late was too long before then intertwining his hands together behind his back. Since when did Mr. Stark want two interns, he wondered again. He wanted more than anything for Tony to mentor him, teach him, train him, and, most importantly, approve of him. I can’t let this girl get in the way of that…

"Well! Now that introductions are mostly done, except - where's Sam?" Tony shouted, addressing the group of avengers assembled in the common room. Sam was a name you didn't recognize, either. You hadn't read too many articles on the Avengers, but saw enough headlines that you thought you'd recognize the whole group.

"On a personal mission or something," Steve shouted back.

"Oh yeah, ok," Tony said, returning to the teens, "the last introductions for today is Bruce, so let's keep moving on the grand tour, Y/N. Parker, thanks for stopping by. You're welcome to hang out, as always, or stay in your room, or whatever!" Tony rattled off, attention already on the next task with you. Tony scurried towards Banner's lab that overlooked his own, assuming you would follow behind him. Not quite getting the memo, you stared back at the group of superheroes you just met. The group of people you'd be living with for the foreseeable future. This is the coolest thing ever, you thought.

A smile gradually widened on your face while you scanned the room dreamily as if you'd never be back. The four original avengers still in the room chatted around the TV while Peter had not yet moved. He stared at you while you waved and jogged off to catch up with Mr. Stark, flustered by the fact that he traveled all the way from Queens for you - some new kid - to hog all the attention. Flushed with disappointment, he meandered back downstairs and out the front door before slipping his mask back on and swinging his way to his own friendly neighborhood as the last of the sunlight dropped below the New York skyline.

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[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day One: A Bounty For Two [Aram x Regan]

Yeah, I’m horribly late with my first entry of ockiss18/OC Kiss Week. My full time job and plans with friends and my boyfriend make typing up the ficlet harder to do. I almost had this one done Friday night but it was getting late and I needed sleep for work. :/

But here is Day 1 for ockiss18, featuring my SWTOR bounty hunter Regan Sedae and @gaiden1974‘s smuggler Aram Dakarii. Enjoy!

This fucking bounty better be worth it.

The crate was bumped and jostled about, causing her head to collide with the solid wooden walls while her horns scraped the lid. Her limbs ached from being twisted around in an uncomfortable position for so long. Why she agreed to this hare-brained scheme was beyond Regan, especially since there had to have been an easier way to smuggle her into the target’s private estates. But the smuggler she contacted days ago who knew the layout of the target’s fortified manor as well as security system, suggested she had to be concealed within in the cargo, for she’d be recognized as one of the Imperial’s fear bounty hunters on sight alone.

“After all, there aren’t too many over six feet tall, female Zabrak bounty hunters in the galaxy,” the smuggler, Aram Dakarii, had explained, a cheeky grin forming upon his lips while his eyes were alight with humor. “No offense.”

“None taken. Then if I can’t be seen until I enter the compound, what do you propose?”

The smile widen. “How flexible are you?”

Stupid, fucking smug bastard probably had a bigger crate and neglected to mention it. I swear, if we’re not almost at our destination, I’m bursting out of this like an irate Jack-in-the-Box.

Normally, Regan kept her cool and practical mindset for long periods of time (unlike her older sister, Goneril, who was impatient and loathed to be kept waiting), but being contorted into a pretzel knot followed by constant, gracelessly maneuverings were doing no wonders to improve her already  sour mood. At the end of this assignment, she was heading to a spa.

In the midst of her internal grumblings, the lid to the crate opened and instinctively, Regan brandished her blaster up into the face of a startled but amused Aram Dakarri.

“Whoa! It’s me, Aram! No need to blast me in the face, especially since I helped sneak you into the esteemed, snooty Nastalia Argoria’s wine cellar. For drinks, she sure has some fine taste.”

“We’ll take a few of them for our troubles,” Regan answered as she awkwardly and stiffly climbed out of the box. “And was smuggling me like this really necessary? Couldn’t you have utilized a longer or larger crate?”

He shrugged. “Then I’d have to use a coffin. And try explaining to Nastalia’s many guards why the delivery boy has a dead body ready for burial in his supply vehicle.”

Regan sighed, stretching out her sore arms and legs. “Point taken. Now, down to business. Show me the layout of this entire mansion and the grounds. We only have one shot at this.” She set a holo on top of the crate she was previously in and a basic blueprint of the luxurious house in question was projected--courtesy of her smuggler-in-crime when they first agreed to work together to take down Nastalia Argoria and split the bounty. He didn’t care about why the Imperial Empire wanted this businesswoman dead (the Empire was never keen on people stealing data from their top secret projects or housing traitors), he wasn’t into sides or allegiances, or the politics between the Empire and the Republic. His loyalty to her and this mission could be bought with a multitude of credits and an honorbound contract he’ll refuse to break, eve if Nastalia herself attempted to bribe him. That notion was rather comforting, given to how rare it was for someone who didn’t fight for either side to stay true to a hired job. Aram’s honor made her mission easier, for the Zabrak fathomed Aram wasn’t the type to stab her in the back. The front maybe, but never the back.

“Security is tight along these floors--” he gestured to the bottom, third, and top floor-- “but the servants are too preoccupied with preparations for the banquet tonight to care enough to keep a vigilant watch for any unwelcomed guests. We might be able to sneak along unnoticed but that could be risky. And I’m not sure where Lady Fancypants is holed up.”

“I have a hunch. Yet first, we’ll need to disguise ourselves so we can move around the manor freely.”  

And that was how the two of them ended up procuring everyday clothes from the laundry room and posed as the head caters  for tonight’s banquet. Somehow, there managed to be clothes that fit Regan and she found a schick, colorful silk scarf to drap around her head and partly cover her mouth to hide most of her Zabrak tattoos and the twin crescent scars on her mouth. Her blaster was hidden amongst her loose blouse and pants while Aram concealed his around inside his boot. The security guards hassled them only briefly and then let them through to the next hallway once they announced they were the caters Miss Nastalia hired and they needed to discuss business as well as good arrangements.

Just as Regan suspected, her target was in her room, finalizing her outfit and appearance for tonight.

“Are you going to shoot her the moment she admits us into her chambers?” whispered Aram as they briskly strolling down the halls. “That’s going to cause some ruckus and attention that ends with us getting chased and shot at. Have any escape plans?”

Despite herself, she grinned at his queries. “That’s a ‘yes’ to the latter.” Without offering any explanations, she knocked on the door, only waiting for about ten seconds prior to an airy, bored voice beckoned them in.

“Finally, there are some people in the business of arriving early,” droned out Nastalia Argoria as she applied blush to her face, motioning for the two of them to sit. “Everyone else is lagging behind and I fear the florist and decorator will rush their work since they won’t be here until twenty minutes after the agreed time.”

“What a pity,” Aram responded with feigned sympathy as he and Regan quietly retrieved their pistols.

“Some people cannot comprehend time management,” added Regan, continuing the act as she narrowed her paralysis dart on the unsuspecting woman. “Or the consequences in crossing the Empire.” The dart flew from her gauntlet and embedded itself into the woman’s back. Her target dropped like a fly and Regan approached her as Aram stood guard at the door.

“Scream and I’ll shoot,” she ordered. The socialiste whimpered. The dart paralyzed her body but her tongue could still wag. “Where are you housing the Imperial traitor and data you stole?”

“I-I don’t know!” stammered out  the no longer bored, annoyed businesswoman. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“They always don’t,” mused Aram out loud as he crossed his arms and smirked at the scene unfolding before him.

“I don’t have to listen to you lie with every breath you take,” growled Regan, smacking Nastalia across the face with the end of her blaster. Her pained cry startled Aram for a second or two but he said nothing, not appearing like he cared enough to interfere with her methods. After all, he still wanted half of that bounty prize.

Her target continued to whimper as an ugly, dark bruise began to form and Regan rolled her eyes at Nastalia’s antics--her acting fooled no one. Just when she was about to push her again, the Zabrak bounty hunter heard the sound of jumping and Aram firing off his blaster. She lept and then rolled away, aiming her blaster at the intruder who came from the bedroom. One look at the new woman’s face, a human sporting a tight bun and pursed, thin lips, confirmed the bounty hunter this was the traitor she was hired to kill. Aram was distracting her long enough for Regan to get a decent shot in, her finger squeezing the trigger with ease. Both her and his blaster fired at the same time--her hit got the traitor in the temple while his shot struck her shot. The traitor latently sank to the ground, head first into the carpet. Nastalia sighed in exasperation.

“How useless…” she grumbled. “So now that you killed your traitor, can you please cease this abhorrent interrogation. I don’t have the data or whatever information you’re searching for.”

“Check the corpse and see if there is anything on her. If you find nothing, take a look in the bedroom.” ordered Regan, ignoring Nastalia’s words but watching how that woman’s eyes darted anxiously to the bedroom once more, like something precious was in there she needed to watch over.

“You know, I’d be more interested in checking out your bedroom,” Aram remarked drolly, sending her a wink when she rolled her eyes. Funny, usually she’d be scowling at people’s attempts to make a pass at her but Aram was tolerable. Not mention he was roguish and attractive  for a human, particularly with that long jagged scar running down his features. A man with scars impressed her, for they told her small stories of his life and what battles he fought, molding him into a more experience man. She wondered if he had any more elsewhere on his body.

“That’s a conversation for another time, when we’re done with this assignment,” Regan chided, neither flirting back or discouraging his attempts. The Zabrak bounty hunter was still trying to figure this perplexing yet oddly charming smuggler out. Certainly they were allies now but anything could change once their partnership was at an end.

While Aram first searched the dead traitor and found nothing, he proceeded to the bedroom, Regan continued to observed the Nastalia lady and trained her blaster squarely on her forehead. The snobbish businesswoman wasn’t going to talk about the data she stole but she still was clearly in the mood to chat about anything else.

“I still cannot believe a pair of filthy, scruffy scumbags like you managed to trespass my premises and fool my guards! Clearly, I’ll have to change my security once this is over.”

A feral grin slowly spread itself across Regan’s black tattooed, scarred lips, allowing her stance to relax in a casual manner to throw her target off and let the fear sink in. “What makes you think you’ll be alive once I found what I came here for. I was given two bounties to settle, not one.”

Nastalia’s eyes widen at the implication and before she could holler for help, Regan jammed her scarf into her mouth and practically down her throat, relishing her victim’s twitching and garbled attempts at speech now she was properly gagged. “Aram, can you hurry it up? We don’t have all day!”

“Slow and steady wins the race, Regan. But lucky for us, I found where Miss Fancypants keeps her safe. Easy to crack.” The smuggler emerged from the bedroom, dangling a datapad between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like we hit the jackpot, if this is the stolen data you sought.”

There was no mistaking the alarm flashing in the target’s eyes as he handed the datapad over to Regan, who smirked victoriously as she scrolled through the contents of the files. Each and every page was marked by Imperial scientists and military agents, and a few Sith. After all the trouble that went into infiltrating this estate, it was relief to have crucial Imperial information back in her hands and away from people like Nastalia Argoria to sell to the highest bidder amongst enemies of the Empire. And she couldn’t wait to spend credits on a much needed relaxation.

“This is definitely what we came here for,” Regan confirmed, pointing her blaster at the limp businesswoman, who was trying to scream with her gag right before she was shot point blank in the forehead. Silencing that schemer would send a clear message to everyone else who might plan to house traitors of the Empire who made off with Imperial secrets.

“That was quick,” remarked Aram, gesturing to the now dead Nastalia. “Is that how you usually operate?”

“When it’s necessary. I don’t want us to overstay our welcome because sooner or later, people are going to wonder why she hasn’t emerged from her chambers.” She tilted her head over at a nearby window. “And that’s our escape plan.”

Aram whipped his head from her to the window and back at her, his eyes widening so rapidly in shock that Regan could hardly resist to grin cheekily at his reaction. Now it was her turn to put him through an not ideal strategy!

“I’m not jumping out of that window, there is no way we’ll land without breaking any bones.”

She scoffed. “Who said anything about jumping? I’m a fucking bounty hunter, we have jetpacks.” For emphasises, she pulled the loose fitting blouse up over her head and yanked it away, revealing a set of advanced jetpacks strapped to her back. The smuggler let out a low whistle as he studied their getaway device.

“How the hell did I miss that before?”

“Because you were too busy staring at my ass to notice.”

Warm, rich laughter bubbled out of him at her ripostle. “Touche!” The chuckling then faded as he observed the jetpack once more. “I only see one. Are you going to carry me or do I have to hold on?” He didn’t bring up the possibility that she was leaving him behind, which hadn’t crossed her mind until now. Aram made a better friend and foe and besides, she was beginning to warm up to him.

“Just wrap your arms around me and hold tight--I’ll do the same. And don’t be startled when the jetpack roars to life.”

The smuggler appeared positively gleeful at her choice of words, his grin so wide and suggestive Regan almost craved to smack it off his face. Key word almost. “That’s more than I ever expected to share with you. The more I hoped for when all of this was over and done with was a kiss.”

She arched one incredulous eyebrow. “Really? Just a kiss?” came her dry respond as Aram followed her earlier instructions and gripped her back tight, his legs prepared to encircle themselves around her thighs. Their faces were now closer than they had ever been before and she noticed what a deep green his eyes were. They reminded her of the jungles of Dromund Kaas or the hills her and her sister Goneril ran around with  their father when they were children. That was a memory she hadn’t pondered about for a long time.

“Well, I can’t be too greedy,” admitted Aram, still sporting that cheeky grin of his. “After all, we only have known one another for about a week and not everyone is willing to kiss something they just met, or even go further than that.”

As if on cue, her jetpack roared to life, the heat from the engines warming her rear and legs as she stepped towards the double balcony windows, lifting both her and Aram up high and over the stone sculpted balcony. With such incredible force and speed, they were able to leave the opulent, privately ensconced estate beyond in the matter of minutes, ignoring the passersby outside who stared up at them in absolute wonder and confusion. Her exit strategies were never quite subtle.

“We might have to blast our way to your ship,” she warned Aram  through the blaring of the wind and her jetpack’s humming. “There is a chance Nastalia’s entries might realize something is wrong.”

“They’re not that clever to make the connections that soon. They will give her another hour and by then, we’ll be long gone.” At her inquiring look, he elaborated. “I may have stolen or broke in Miss Fancypants’s manor before. They will don’t know it was me.”

Regan Sedae wondered if those guards did not truly care about their now deed mistress or they really were that incompetent. Or Aram Dakarii was that good at his job

Due the strain on her jetpack of carrying two persons instead of just one, she was forced to land earlier than intended and they used speeders to return to the docking center to get back to Aram’s ship. What they did not plan out was for a customs officer blocking their passage and preventing them from leaving the planet with ease. They needed a cover story, one that wouldn’t provoke an avalanche of questions and suspicions.

“Oh, my boyfriend and I were just her for a little lover’s retreat!” Regan answered with a feigned sweet voice to the officer’s first query. Impulsively, she grabbed Aram’s face with both hands and kissed him fully on the lips, displaying the image of a passionate girlfriend who couldn’t get enough of her lover. While Aram didn’t expected the kiss at first, he was quick to join in and keep up the act. One of his hand snaked itself up her back while the other rested firmly on her left hip, their height differences making the impromptu kiss interesting to perform. His tongue teasingly forked itself across her slightly parted lips and in return, she let out a little moan against their kiss, refusing to let him outdo her in this charade of theirs. After a half of a minute of them kissing and trying to top each other in terms of intensifying their ploy, they broke away to face a very tired and annoyed customs officer.

“That’s great,” he replied sardonically. “And where are you two heading now?”

“Tatooine,” Aram answered swiftly. Tatooine was technically their destination to collect the bounty so at least, that reply was true. He then clasped his hand around Regan and brought her hand to his mouth, lingering over her knuckles in an airy, tender manner. “I cannot believe my vacation with my gorgeous honeybun is over.”

Her eyes flashed at the cheesy nickname. Two could play at that game. “Me neither, smoochie-poo. At least we’ll be alone and together on the ride back home.” As she spoke, she watched the officer out of the corner of her eye. The man looked entirely fed up with their overt display of affection. Perfect!

“Take your kissing party inside your ship. Safe travels.” grumbled out the customs officer and waved them through.

Once they boarded his ship and could relax, Regan placed both hands on her hips and cut him an incredulous, ill humored glance. “Honeybun? Really?”

“Don’t look at me, you call me smoochie-poo! Mine was at least cute.” An impish glean sparked in his verdant eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Would you instead prefer if I had called you sugar tits?”

The Zabrak tried to maintain a straight face yet failed, a snort escaping her restraints. “Do that and you’re a dead man, Aram.”

Chortling and then, a nod of understanding was his first response. “Fair enough.” And his lively verdant eyes were now full of mirth and intrigue. Compared to her first ride with him, the return ride would be much more comfortable and easier to enjoy.

But like hell would she get in a crate again to sneak into a target’s home again!

[bluerene]

river, part four [starx]

whew, okay, I’m home, it’s late, but I’m putting this out anyways. Linking parts one, two and three, aaaaaand dividing this chapter up a little bit because formatting and length were bothering me. Next chapter should be up by Tuesday night. I work both jobs back-to-back tomorrow so no chances of updates then.  As always, all my love for @fireflyxrebel who literally inspired this whole thing and is practically the only reason I wrote it (the other being a sad lack of StarX content and my need to change that).

Let me know what y’all think! 

bless <3 

blue

Friday didn’t go by fast enough. I woke up and called in sick to work, first thing, intent on decrypting the files I’d stolen the night before. Made myself some eggs and toast, turned on the TV for morning news, set up my laptop, and plugged in the flash drive. Well, no, not true - I burned the toast, forgot to replace the batteries in the remote, and tried to set up the drive incorrectly. Twice. I was distracted. I had a date in twenty-six hours and nothing was ready.

I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, or why I was so invested in making my time with her perfect.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss since it happened.

The thing about fireworks erupting in the background and angels singing is complete bullshit, by the way. There’s nothing earthshaking about it. The kiss didn’t send me to the heavens and back. It just felt right. There was this feeling of comfort that gripped me. She was warm and lovely. Her mouth moved agonizingly slowly against mine. It was torture and bliss and everything I imagined it would be.

And then it was over. She ended it, blushing as she unwound her arms from around my neck. Starfire stammered something about seeing me later and backed away, before shooting into the air.

I waited to hear the tell-tale raven’s call that so often signaled their departure, before teleporting back to my room and flopping onto my bed.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I drafted the same text about fifty times, hoping to engage her in conversation.

hey babe. Gross, delete.

that was some kiss. Too forward, she’ll get skittish, delete.

i had a really nice time last night. Where’s the charm? Delete.

i can’t stop thinking about you. It’s not a lie, but it might freak her out. Delete.

saturday, 11 am, key cove. see you there. A little dull, but it’s effective. Sent.

So yeah, stressful evening. Nervous morning. Once the files were finished loading I focused on combing through them. I didn’t like what I saw.

There were blueprints and notes, pdf versions of hastily scribbled equations and messy theories. Plans for some kind of incubation chamber. A complex formula for what appeared to be a chemical virus that could eradicate mutations in DNA. Footnotes that listed the unpredictable factors that could occur, and the ones that had occurred in test subjects.

Where they saw the likelihood of medical innovation, my clients would see the potential for biological warfare.

Shit.

I disconnected the flash-drive and wiped the files from my laptop, initiating a self-diagnostic run to sweep for any bugs that may have come with the folder. Not good, not good at all. The trade was supposed to go down later tonight. There wasn’t enough time for me to come up with an alibi or skip town.

I grimaced, already imagining the beating I would take for backing out of the exchange.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Laptop was clean, so there was a silver lining. I still had to destroy both drives and set some sort of trap for the meetup. I needed that money. I wasn’t going away from this without it.

There was a beep coming from my bedroom, which meant my burner phone had received a message. I put my laptop away and shoved the flash-drives into my pocket, curious as to who had contacted me.

12:34 pm - unknown: bring the drives tonight @ 2 am, 811 lilac rd, construction zone. we have the money.

I knew better than to respond.

My cell rang not long after, and for a moment, I was struck with the fear that they’d somehow gotten my private number and figured out who I was and where I was staying.

But the ID was different. I couldn’t help but grin as I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh...Red X?” Starfire confirmed, sounding a bit taken aback.

“The one and only, cutie.”

“Your voice is different.”

“I don’t live in the suit,” I replied, amused by her curiosity, “why are you calling?”

“I would like to see you tonight.”

Ahhhhh, no, beautiful, we can’t do that.

“I thought you couldn’t sneak out at night.”

“It will be difficult, but I believe I can make it work. If it is convenient for you,” she added hastily.

It really wasn’t, but how could I tell her that?

“Not a problem,” I said smoothly, “meet me at Key Cove tonight, whenever your patrol gets done. Wear something comfortable.”

“Very well. I shall see you then.”

“Sounds good.”

“X? Thank you,” she said softly.

I hung up without another word.

It was not turning out to be my day.

I took a couple of deep breaths and set my phone down, thinking hard about what I was going to do. As far as the date went, I had most things prepared. There was an Italian restaurant down the road, a little bistro called Vinum Domum. It was locally owned by an elderly couple, who were more than happy to offer me a free meal on account of the fact that it was for a date and I apparently needed all the help I could get.

Patrols usually ended between nine and eleven, depending on the route taken and the amount of crime occurring. Jump had a fairly quiet night-life. Starfire would probably show meet me around ten. I’d take her to the planetarium, we’d have a nice dinner, watch the movie I’d selected, hopefully kiss again, and wrap up just in time for me to make the deal. I had enough hours before to try and edit the files so that they were missing the doomsday parts. It would be shitty, and probably a bit obvious that I’d tampered with the drives, but it was significantly better than handing over Jump City’s death certificate.

Plan set, I put it all in motion.

I called Rosalie and Pietro Alexander right away, requesting a bottle of cider and two meals for pick-up in the evening. They made me swear to bring her by the restaurant the next time I had the chance. I laughed, trying not to entertain the idea because if I did, it would be stuck in my head forever.

I retrieved various things from around my apartment - a couple of blankets and pillows, plates, cups, utensils, the DVD I was planning on playing, popcorn, candy, and a pack of battery-operated candles. Stuffed most of it into a bag and set aside the rest to load onto my motorcycle when it came time to leave.

I worked on the files for a couple of hours. Chopped up the uglier parts, patching it up with glitching copies that (hopefully) looked like a virus had eaten away at the documents. I redacted portions of the formula, fiddled with the numbers. Deleted a couple of footnotes, added a few that emphasized the unpredictability of the science and made the data look less reliable. I kept enough information to satisfy them but removed enough to keep people safe. That was all I could really do.

I showered at eight and got a little dressed up. Black fitted jeans and shoes, a maroon button-down, an old woven bracelet that belonged to my mother around my wrist. Packed the Red X suit into the bag I had already filled, keeping the mask and belt ready for use.

All that was left was for me to wait, and I did.

An hour later, I got her message.

10:12 pm - unknown: i will see you shortly

Okay, fuck.

It was now or never.

-

Raven was quick to notice the scarlet blush I was undoubtedly wearing but knew better than to comment until we were safely in the confines of her room.

We teleported to the common room, where Robin, Cyborg, and Beast Boy were still waiting.

“All good?” Robin asked, rising from the couch.

Raven shrugged, sparing me the trouble of responding.

“Didn’t catch him, he was long gone by the time we arrived. Nothing was stolen, but the security officers received an alert that the main lab was breached so there’s a chance some research may have been copied.”

Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “okay, we’ll have to deal with that later. Thanks, guys.”

He was rarely so collected when an instance like this occurred. I couldn’t help the warmth that filled me when he turned my way.

“You okay, Star?”

“Hmm?” my blush deepened as I realized what he was asking, “oh, yes, I am the o and the k.”

“Lookin’ a little flushed, princess.” Cyborg teased, nudging Beast Boy with a grin.

“I am simply tired. I would like to turn in for the evening,” I replied in my most dignified tone.

“Good idea, I vote we all do it,” Raven said.

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow, “it’s not even midnight.”

“You could use the beauty sleep,” she shot back.

I giggled behind my hand, grateful for her ability to distract while I composed myself. Cyborg laughed loudly while they bickered, which had become rather frequent as of late. I believe all of us were waiting for them to ‘kiss and make up’, as Cyborg so often told them.

“Guys,” Robin interrupted, shaking his head, “it’s late. If you’re tired, go to bed, if not, make sure you lock the tower down before you leave the common room.”

“Sure thing, Dad.” Beast Boy replied, flopping back onto the couch.

Robin grumbled under his breath and cast me one more glance, before turning and exiting the room.

Raven curled her fingers around my wrist and tugged gently, “we should talk.”

“I believe that would be prudent,” I said, following her into the hallway.

She pulled me into her bedroom and onto the floor, crossing her legs and looking at me expectantly.

“Well?”

I touched my fingers to my lips and smiled faintly, “he kissed me.”

The lights flickered and Raven’s eyes flared for a moment.

“What?” She asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

I explained that I had messed with his belt and arrived at his home, where we had a short conversation.

She waited until I was finished speaking, her mouth pressed in a thin line by the end of my narrative.

“So you guys are dating?”

“We are going on a date,” I corrected, “it may not lead anywhere.”

“But you kissed.”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed it,” she confirmed.

I blushed, “surprisingly, yes, very much.”

She leaned back on her hands and sighed, “wow, okay, that’s a lot.”

“I do not mean to burden you-”

“It’s not that,” Raven reassured me, “it’s just...what about Robin?”

My heart fluttered, my stomach churned, my head ached at the sound of his name.

Raven’s eyes widened as I let my emotions flow through me, “I see.”

“Indeed,” I murmured, “my feelings for Robin are complicated. They are still there. I do not think I will ever be rid of them. But Red X makes me feel...desired. Powerful, even. He sees me differently.”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how terrible of an idea this is?”

I smile, “I am well aware of the repercussions at hand, Raven. I will be discreet.”

“Azar, I hope so,” she muttered, allowing a half-smile to quirk upon her lips, “If this is what you want, I have your back.”

I squeezed her hand gratefully and stayed with her for a little while after, eager to chat about her developing relationship with Beast Boy. She kicked me out of her room shortly after, advising that I go to sleep, warning me that it would not come to me easily.

She was correct. I tossed and turned, contemplating various messages I could send him. Nothing came out of it, except for a single, full thought - I wanted to see him soon.

Just as my eyes gave way to heaviness, the sound of a message pinged from my phone, jolting me awake.

3:26 am - unknown: saturday, 11 am, key cove. see you there.

I bit my lip, thumbs hovering over the digital keyboard. X’hal, how could I possibly wait another day and a half? I could barely make it through this night, let alone another.

If I could establish a means of escape, I could attempt to see him tomorrow.

I opted to set my phone aside and try to sleep. I hoped the next morning would bring some clarity.

I continued to fret quietly for an hour, recalling the kiss over and over in my mind until it was seared in place.

I had never been kissed properly. The others might tell you they witnessed it in Tokyo with the boy on the street, or when I assimilated Atlantean from Aqualad, or when I first met Robin, but that is not true. Language transference, while not unpleasant, does not evoke any enjoyment from me. It is a skill I have used many times with many beings, regardless of how I might feel about them.

But kissing was different. It was not the hard connection between unmoving mouths, guided by a tight grip on the person’s shoulder or neck. There was no rush of thought, no compounded headache as a side-effect.

It was much softer and gentler, like the first kisses I saw so often in films and on television.

One of Red X’s hands had found my waist while the other held my wrist, rubbing circles on my skin with his thumb. His mouth moved sweetly against mine, coaxing movement from my frozen state.

I tugged my hand from his grip and wound my arms around his neck, sliding my fingers along the bottom of his mask to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezed my hips and pulled me closer, drawing a squeal of surprise from my lips. He deepened the kiss, shaking with silent laughter at my enthusiasm.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was not the time, nor the place. Reluctantly, I drew back, stumbling through a goodbye before darting into the air, fighting the urge to look back at him.

I felt angry with myself afterward, for too many reasons. Angry because in a way, I had betrayed Robin. Angry because I had let it go farther than I intended. Angry because somewhere, I knew with full certainty, Raven was correct. Somewhere, something in me had attached itself to Red X. And I was happy because of it.

I slept fitfully through the night, coming in and out of lustful dreams that left me flushed and nervous and exhausted. I was no stranger to these feelings, but with Robin I felt in control, certain of the boundaries and lines we had drawn, comfortable in our established relationship. Now, every rule I had given myself had vanished. I did not know where X’s feelings stretched or where his walls were built; I did not know where he felt comfortable being touched or what he saw in me. It was unexplored territory, and it ignited a delicious fear in me that I could not help but enjoy.

Now, I suppose this was a side-effect of the many romance books I indulged in, where heroines had their hearts stolen by handsome thieves as they were rushed into a whirlwind love story. It was an idea that I found both charming and delightful on so many levels.

I woke when the first rays of sunlight peeked through my curtains. I opted to stay in my room and observe the sunrise on my own. Robin usually liked to join me on the roof most mornings, but I could not bear to be around him while I was feeling so guilty and confused and struck with the love.

Not that I was in love. But I have learned, despite what the phrase implies, that you do not have to mean you love something just because you say you do.

Once dawn had fully broken through the clouds, I considered going back to sleep, but I was too restless to crawl into bed. So I began the day.

I selected some casual garments from my closet - a pair of cropped running pants, a bright purple sports bra with black straps, and a soft blue zippered sweatshirt - and changed out of my sleepwear. It seemed like a pleasant day for a run around Titan Island. Perhaps I could practice training in the simulation hall. I felt charged by the sun, my fingertips tingling with unspent energy.

Quietly, so I would not disturb the others, I slipped out of my room and made my way to the stairwell that led to the rooftop. Robin did not usually linger there unless I was also with him.

I spent a few hours outside. I have always loved the cool taste of the air, salted by the sea breeze. I dove from the tower and allowed myself to fall until I caught onto a large gust of wind and flowed in its direction. I twisted and turned through the air, pushing myself to go faster until everything around me blurred into unfamiliar shapes.

My communicator beeped loudly from my waist and I stopped immediately, hovering in the clouds while I flipped my device open.

“Raven?”

“Starfire, where are you?” she asked impatiently, raising a hand to quiet someone beside her.

“I went out for a morning flight. Why?”

She sighed and shook her head, “Robin got worried when you didn’t join him on the roof this morning. And you weren’t at breakfast, and your communicator indicated you were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”

I blushed, averting my gaze, “I may have flown farther than I intended. Please do not worry, I will return shortly.”

“You know,” Raven said quickly, before I could hang up on the call, “Things will never be the same between you two, but you should probably talk to him. Avoiding an issue doesn’t make it go away. He’s starting to feel like he’s losing you.”

“You cannot lose what you never had,”  I said, smiling sadly, “I will see you soon.”

I did not rush back to the Tower. An ugly feeling had settled in the pit of my stomach at the prospect of seeing Robin, who would undoubtedly be frustrated and concerned for my well-being. Raven did the lessening of the situation when she explained it to me - she would only ever call to check on me if something serious motivated her.

I let myself drop lower, nearer to the surface of the water, and dipped my hands in, enjoying the cool after-splash that followed. I spied a trio of dolphins surfacing in the distance, their glistening fins cutting through the rippling sea before they burst through the blue.

I sighed, envious of their freedom. To be with the one you wanted, free to go as you pleased, unburdened by who you might hurt, or who you already have.

I knew I could not delay the inevitable for much longer.

I landed on the rooftop of the tower almost thirty minutes later and hurried to the common room, biting my lip as the doors slid open.

Raven and Robin were in a deep, seemingly heated conversation at the breakfast table, while Beast Boy and Cyborg were cooking something at the stove, their backs turned to me.

I plastered on a cheerful smile and threw my hands into the air.

“Good morning friends!”

Robin’s head snapped up at the sound of my voice, his expression alarmingly blank.

“Good morning to you too, lil’ lady,” Cyborg said with a grin, “where have you been?”

“I merely went for a flight. I apologize, I did not mean to travel so far.” I said, smiling back, “I hope I did not cause any of you concern”

Robin pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Don’t worry, Starfire, you didn’t.”

I dropped to the ground, abandoning all pretenses of happiness as he stalked past me.

“I’m not very hungry, Cy. Got work to catch up on,” he said loudly.

The doors slid shut as soon as he exited the common room, and I felt three pairs of eyes lock on me.

I slid into a seat at the kitchen counter and sighed, resting my chin against my fist.

“He is angry,” I murmured.

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged a glance.

“Well, y’know, Star, you’ve been kinda weird around him lately,” Beast Boy offered, rubbing the back of his neck, “he’s probably just worried about you.”

“Is everythin’ okay between you two?” Cyborg asked, touching my shoulder.

I wanted to laugh. Things had never been less okay or more uncertain with Robin and I. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about where things were headed for us. And worse, the guilt I had felt when I kissed Red X was fading, vanishing so quickly it was as if there had only ever been happiness.

I did not tell Cyborg this. I promised him things were the O and K, and that I was the same, and we would be as well. I excused myself from breakfast quickly and hurried towards my room. I could hear heavy, angry grunts from the gym when I passed it, and the muffled sound of fists attacking a weighted bag. Robin was undoubtedly in there, forcing his fury out in a way that would protect him. I lingered by the doorway for a moment, recalling all the times when I pulled him away from his training or studied his movements with undisguised admiration.

Now it is easy for me to float by, barely sparing a glance as I catch the shadows of his form in the pale lights. This is what it feels like to bury your love so deep it cannot break from your chest. I wonder if this is what Robin feels when he glances at me, in all the moments he thinks I have not noticed his attention.

X’hal, what was I doing to myself? It was not fair to me or Robin or Red X. I could not continue to pine for one boy while tempting the other. It was not right.

The pit in my stomach grew heavier.

-

NEXT: what’s up with Starfire?, some Robin insight, and (finally!!!) the date