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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

What we lost in the ashes

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: At her weekly grief counseling groups, the reader finds herself seeking support in strangers. Even the famous Steve Rogers. But is there more to his compassion than meets the eye?

Note: Okay so this is a one shot but it’s hella long (8800+ words). To anyone who has the energy, thank you for reading. I was gonna split it up but it just wasn’t making sense and I like it altogether. But without further ado...

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You walked out of the interview and cringed into your hands. Fuck. You were so worked up you fumbled over nearly every word. Even as you breathed and fought to steady yourself, it all tumbled out like water over the falls.

Two months and only three interviews. More than a dozen rejection emails, too. All of it piled up and left you senseless as you sat across from the interviewer. You already knew you didn't get the job. Another fuck up.

You checked your phone as you dragged your feet across the pavement. Well, the one positive was you might actually make it to your group meeting. You'd have to go straight there but you didn't relish the thought of being alone for the rest of the night.

Most days were spent alone since the snap. Since half of New York and the world disappeared. That was a year ago but the city still felt so empty.

Still, even an apocalyptic event could not lower the cost of living in New York. And without a job for two months, your rent looked even higher.

It was just past the hour when you got off the subway. You took the stairs two at a time and stumbled out onto the street. You held your purse to your hip and your thin folder of resumes to your chest. You jogged past fellow pedestrians and stopped out of breath before the centre.

Every Wednesday and Saturday. Most didn't make both meetings. They found other ways to cope. Other than listening; talking. The bars and strip clubs were the most successful businesses since the snap. Perhaps you should look into those.

You ducked through and your heels clicked on the floor. You rushed up to the second floor and did your best to tiptoe to the door. It was still open for latecomers. At the twenty minute mark, it would close.

As you came up, the stopper was kicked and you barely caught the door before it shut. A single voice filled the large space. Marnie was telling her story again. She was of the few who enjoyed talking.

"Wait," You whispered and dashed through the door. Steve looked down at you as you slipped through and you could see the surprise and disappointment in his eyes. He hated tardiness.

"Nice of you to show up," He kept his voice low.

*Sorry," You said and he waved you ahead of him.

"Grab a seat," He pointed to the folding chairs against the far wall and parted to retake his own among the circle.

You took a chair and carried it to the group. You set your stuff down on the floor and unfolded it over it. You sat and crossed your legs as you ignored the eyes of others and listened to Marni recounting the meal she made for her husband the day he turned to ash.

When she finished, Steve asked a few questions and tried to open the floor up to a discussion. That never really worked. He did most of the talking. The great Captain America was the spearhead of these meetings.

Dozens of these meetings were funded everyday by the Stark corporation as part of the Avengers recovery program. Yours had been the first: informal and arranged via Craigslist. A group of confused mourners left behind.

Then Steve expanded, reached out to others, and as time passed, more were willing to meet. There was a circle almost every night but you kept to your usual group. You knew each other, tolerated each other.

"Well, you guys are a talkative bunch tonight," Steve chided as he crossed his arms. "Dennis?" The man shook his head and Steve sighed. "How about you?" He looked to you, "What had you running behind?"

You pushed your shoulders back and looked around the circle. You were the only one who had never told their story. You tried once. Half a sentence before you walked out. But you liked listening and talking about others' experiences, not your own.

"I had an interview," You answered curtly. "Don't think it went very well though."

Steve nodded and dropped his arms. "How long has it been? A month?"

"Two," You corrected him. "And barely as many prospects."

"It's tough these days. Every day another business closes its door but we have to remember that just as many have a dozen desks empty and waiting. It just takes patience." He smiled. "There might be less of us now but it means that there's more for us too. In a way, the world's gotten so much bigger. Those of us left behind, we gotta make the most of what was left to us."

You swallowed your resent. You didn't need his empty encouragements. The man lived on Stark dollar and even in such a sad state, the corporation was profiting. And this Avenger, this hero, was still playing at saving the world one broken New Yorker at a time.

"So, any other interviews?" He asked.

You shook your head. You were done talking. He pressed his lips together as you dropped your eyes to your lap.

"Alright, then, Sal?" He cleared his throat.

"I went to the pound the other day," Sal began. He lost his dog in the snap. His husband too. "There was this dog there. Name was Lucky. Shepherd mix with floppy ears... I took him home."

"Wow, Sal, that's great." Steve said. "You know, that's real progress. What made you take Lucky home?"

"I'm not sure, I just looked at him and I knew." Sal sniffed and his chair creaked. "I'm tired of being lonely."

You kept your chin down as you listened. You played with the cuff of your brown tweed jacket. Perhaps the night would've been better alone. You looked up as you sensed movement.

Steve watched as you picked at the thick thread hanging from your sleeve. You stopped and uncrossed your legs and straightened in your chair. He smiled as you met his gaze and you turned to focus on Sal as he spoke. You could distract yourself from the negative in your bank account with the woes of others. It was always easier to dwell on problems not your own.

At the end of the meeting, everyone gathered around the table for the usual stale coffee and medley of snacks. You munched on the veggies and dip and took a bottle of water. You didn’t have much to eat at home and these meetings became a chance to fill up. You tossed your plate and waited for the others to filter out.

You decided to help clean up since you were late. You started to fold the chairs and replace them against the wall. The last was scooped up before you could grab it and Steve swiftly folded it and held it at his side.

“So…”

“Sorry I was late. Didn’t think I’d make it after the interview but...figured I’d try.” You shrugged.

“I’m glad you came, at least. That’s better than not.” He smiled. He carried the chair past you and put it with the rest. “Thanks. You don’t have to stay and help.”

“I know, but I should. I know you hate it when we’re late.”

“Oh?” The lines along his forehead deepened.

“That’s how,” You pointed to him. “The look.”

He chuckled and followed you to the table and began to clear the used paper plates and cups. You closed up the uneaten food and stacked the containers. You worked in silence.

“What was the interview for?” He asked suddenly.

“Um, oh, just data entry. But I kinda fucked that up.” You grumbled as he placed the containers on a cart.

“How so?”

“I just...couldn’t think. Or speak. I got three rejections this morning. Three. You think with all these people gone, the employment rate would sky rocket.” You helped him fold the table and set it with the chairs.

“And there’s no one to help? No one left?” He asked carefully.

“All the friends that didn’t disappear left the city.”

“And family?” He ventured.

You shook your head and looked away. You cleared your throat and retrieved your purse and folder from where you’d left them.

“Two months, eh? How are you...managing?” He redirected and you were thankful.

“Barely.” You shook your head and hooked your purse over your shoulder. “But I’ll have to figure it out. You...don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do.” He assured you. “This is a support group, right? We support each other here.”

You gripped the folder and stayed silent. He turned and grabbed a container from the cart. The last of the veggie tray. He opened it and added a few sandwiches from the one beneath.

“Here. Take em. Better than them going to the bin.” He held out the tupperware.

“I...can’t.” You shook your head.

“You can and you will.” He asserted and stepped closer. He nudged the folder with the container.

“I--”

“It’s not charity. It’s human decency. Take it.” He insisted. “Just bring the container back on Saturday, okay?”

“Alright,” You relented and accepted the food. “Th-thank you.”

“Not at all,” He reached into his back pocket and opened his wallet. You watched him, confused and mortified. He pulled out a small rectangle and offered the card between two fingers. “You need anything, to talk, or some help, you should give me a call.”

“Steve, I don’t think--”

“Look, you’re the only one who didn’t take a card. Sal’s been sending me pictures of his dog since he got him and Marnie shares recipes twice a day. You wouldn’t guess it but Dennis loves memes and Clara needs a designated driver more often than not. I’m here to help. It’s the least I can do.” He set the card on top of the container.

“Why?” You asked. “Why do you do this?”

“Because I’m selfish.” He said. “I don’t like being alone.”

You stared at the card and sighed. “Fair enough...I should go, I guess.”

“Yeah, uh, you need a ride?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” You assured him. “Besides, you’ve done enough.”

You kept the card in your purse but never took it out. You brought the empty container to Saturday’s meeting. Steve filled it again at the end and forced it into your hands. You protested but he was a hard man to deny. He asked about your job hunt and if you needed anything else. You assured him you were fine.

You left with your tupperware of pity food and returned to your walk-up. It was too big for just you anyway. You should just give notice and downgrade to one of the bachelor’s downtown. That felt wrong though. Like forgetting. Like running away.

You shoved the leftovers in the fridge and slept on the couch. You hadn’t slept upstairs in months. You couldn’t. Your bed was so cold; so unwelcoming. The top floor was empty and full of ghosts. Memories whispering in your ear.

Another meeting on Wednesday. The third of the month and only half the rent paid from the last of your savings. You didn’t listen and as usual, you didn’t talk. You were the first to leave as you resigned to say goodbye to your home.

A notice greeted you. Pay your rent in full by the tenth of the month or eviction proceedings would go forward. You ripped it off the door and retreated inside. It was the first time you were close to crying. The last year had been a numb blur.

You didn’t though. You wouldn’t. Not over a townhouse. That was nothing. You checked your phone and scrolled through your contacts. None of them still in the city, most of them not even on the planet. You stared at your wallpaper and hugged the phone to your chest.

You pulled your purse across the sofa and dug inside. It was just past nine. He’d still be packing up. You should’ve stayed to help. You took the card out from the zippered pocket and tapped it against your screen. Your finger moved slowly and the dial tone scared you. You waited.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice rose from the speaker. You gulped. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve, it’s...me,” You said awkwardly. “Sorry I didn’t stay to help.”

“It’s all good,” He replied after a pause. “I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, I…” You sniffed and swallowed your words.

“You okay?” He filled the silence.

“Yeah...I just...wanted to apologize.” You lied.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asked again.

“...No. I’m getting evicted. I didn’t...I don’t have anyone else to call so...I called you.”

“I’m almost done here. I can stop by if you need company or…?” He offered.

You considered. You chewed your nail. You only wanted to talk but you weren’t so good at that anymore. It wouldn’t hurt to have company...as long as he stayed downstairs. It had only been you.

“Do you like beer?” He asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it. I...Steve, you really don’t have to.” You rubbed your forehead and huffed. “I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re not right now. So let me just make sure you will be, alright?”

“Fine,” You relented. “I’ll...text you the address.”

“Great,” He chimed. “I shouldn’t be long. See ya soon.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You hung up and dropped the phone. Why had you done that?

Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. You were pacing the foyer when it filled the empty space. You stopped short and marched to the door. You took a breath and opened it. Steve smiled as he held up a six pack of cans.

“Hey, kinda worried you might fall asleep on me,” He greeted.

“No, I don’t really--Come in.” You stepped back to let him through. “Just in there.” You pointed to the living room. “Sorry, I don’t have much to offer.”

“That’s fine. There’s leftovers in the car if you’re peckish.” He offered as he stepped through. He shed his jacket and folded it over the arm of the sofa.

“Not very hungry.” You watched him sit on the sofa. The pillow and blanket were neatly stacked on the chair. “Didn’t take you as a beer person. Figured it wouldn’t really...appeal to your sensitivities.”

“Yeah, doesn’t really give me a buzz but it’s more a nostalgic thing, you know?” His eyes glided across the eviction notice on your coffee table and he slipped a can from the six pack. “Here.”

“Uh, thanks,” You took it tentatively and cracked it as he grabbed one of his own. “I...you didn’t have to come. I feel bad.”

“Don’t. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” He assured you. “Well, you gonna sit or hover around me like a bird all night?”

“Sorry,” You neared and sat on the cushion next to him. You took a gulp and winced at the grainy alcohol. You preferred wine.

“You seemed...off at the meeting. I was worried.” He said. “So, how bad is it?”

You stared at him. You set down your beer and swiped the notice off the table. You crumpled it up and tossed it. “Well, I can’t afford my rent which means I can’t afford first and last for even a one-room shithole, so...a couple weeks from homelessness.”

He took a drink and thought. He leaned an elbow on his knee and looked around. “Pity. It’s a nice place.”

“Yeah. A lot of room for one person though.” You grumbled. “Figure I’ll go to the shelter till I can get a job and--”

“How much?” He asked abruptly. You tilted your head and flinched. “What?”

“How much is the rent?”

“Steve, no. I don’t need this place. I should’ve gotten rid of it months ago--”

“The support program offers financial support. I can put your name in. A few of the others have already taken advantage of it. Sal’s getting his first vet visit for Lucky covered and Marnie...Well, if you ever looked at any of the literature I put out, you’d know all this.”

“Really, I...didn’t even think of that. I…” You sat back gripped your head. “Shit. Okay, yeah, put my name in. I...Steve, thank you.”

“No problem. It’s what the group is for. I just need your rent statement and I can fill out all the rest. Real easy process.” He assured.

“Oh yeah,” You stood. “Let me just hunt it down.”

You went to the kitchen and stirred around in your drawer of bills. You looked over as Steve stood and sipped from his beer. He looked around at the empty shelves and vacant walls. He paced the room and sat back down as you found the right statement. You approached as he dug around in the couch and placed the paper on the table in front of him.

“There’s something…” He grunted and pulled out his hand. He gripped a small doll with messy blonde hair. Long lost in the depths of your sofa. He looked at it curiously. It was the type you got in Happy Meals. “Uh, here.”

He handed you the Barbie and you took it shakily. “Statement’s there,” You said quietly and turned away.

You shoved the doll under the counter and sat back down. You took a deep swig from the beer. Your phone vibrated on the table as Steve took the bill and folded it into his jacket pocket. He looked over as your phone buzzed and you scooped it up. You swiped away the notification and locked it quickly. It was too late; he’d seen it.

He nodded and clasped his hands together as he thought. You emptied the can and clinked it back on the table.

“You had a daughter?” He asked. You nodded and took another beer from the pack. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” You opened the beer and drank again. “Not your problem.”

He was quiet for a moment. He finished his beer and sighed. “Why do you come to group if you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Because it makes it easier. It’s a distraction. A reassurance that I’m not the only one.” You shrugged. “I told you, this place is too big for just me.”

His blue eyes clung to you as you avoided looking at him. You sipped from the metal rim and held in a belch. “Thanks for the beer but...you don’t have to stay.” You stood and gathered the empty cans. “Let me know about the financial program. I have till the tenth to figure it out.”

“Will do,” He stood and grabbed his jacket. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I’m good.” You assured him. “Really. You’ve done too much already.”

“Right. Have a good one.” He pulled on his jacket and backed away.

“Don’t forget the beer.” You made to grab it and he shook his head.

“Keep it.” He waved you off. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Yeah, sure.” You followed him to the door. “Thanks again.”

Steve called you on Monday to tell you the good news. You were approved for two months rent. The payment was completed directly and as always your receipt arrived in your inbox. It was a relief. And two interviews in one week! Things were starting to look up.

And then you got another call. You got a job and your training started on Wednesday. You messaged Steve the good news and thanked him for his help. You also broke the news that you wouldn’t me MIA at the meeting that night.

It was a simple job; proofreading. Enough to pay the bills. Training would be for a week and then you’d be in the swing of things. Soon enough, Saturday’s meeting swung by and Steve was all too happy to congratulate you. That night, you talked about your new job. You still didn’t mention her though.

As had become your habit, you stayed to put everything away. Steve offered some leftovers and you assured him you were able to afford your groceries now. You took them anyway; lunch for Monday. You folded the table and looked around the empty room.

“So, you wanna celebrate?” He asked.

“Hmm?” You buttoned your coat. The fall air was growing brisker. Winter was just around the corner. Another Christmas alone.

“The job. A drink? Maybe a proper dinner?”

“Right now?” You wondered.

“Sure, why not? You don’t work tomorrow, right?”

“No,” You admitted. “You don’t have to--”

“I hate it when you say that. You ever think I want to?” He smiled.

“My treat,” You insisted. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Alright. You don’t have to twist my arm,” He accepted. “There’s a place just down the street.”

“Sure.” You smiled. You didn’t do a lot of that.

It was a small place. Homey, even. There were board games on shelves along the wall and the low coffee tables were lined by cushy sofas and chairs. They served cocktails, both hot and cold, and the food was rustic but uptown.

You got a salad and an alcoholic latte. You’d regret the espresso later. Steve got a stout and corned beef sandwich with fries. You played crazy eights until he admitted ultimate defeat. You laughed and ordered a second round.

“So, how’s the job so far?” He asked.

“Training still but it’s nice. Everyone’s friendly.” You replied.

“That’s good. Always good to work with people you like.”

“Uh, yeah. I...can I ask you something?” You ventured.

“Sure. You don’t ask much.” He sipped from his pint and waited.

“I never really thought of it but...you still do the whole Captain thing or is it just the groups now?”

“Well...if they really need me, I’ll pick the shield up again but for now, I guess I’m just trying to live.” He rubbed his temple. “Didn’t do a lot of that before all this.”

You nodded. You rubbed your palm with your thumb as you thought. “How do you start over? Can you? I don’t think...I can.”

“You don’t. You carry on.” He said solemnly. “Not really a choice there.”

“Yeah,” You took a drink and wiped the foam from your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

“Can I ask you something now?” He leaned forward as his fingers tapped along the edge of the coffee table.

“I suppose,” You cupped your mug between your palms.

“Do you think you’ll ever talk about her?” His voice was quiet, gentle. “Cause I think you should.”

“Jesus, Steve, this isn’t a support group.” You hissed. Your hair stood on end and you set your mug down.

“Just a question.” He raised his hand defensively. “That’s all.”

“I’m sorry, I...For once, I wasn’t thinking about her and...I don’t know.” You sat back and folded your hands together on your lap.

“It’s okay. I get it.” He said. “So...if this isn’t a support group, what is it?”

You looked at him. You felt as if you’d been slapped. That was a good question and you had no answer.

“Maybe...it was a mistake,” You stood and grabbed your purse.

“What? Wait.” He rose as you took your jacket from the back of the couch. “No, don’t. It was only a question.”

“Look, Steve, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. You’re great for the group and all but...that’s all this is.” You pulled on the faded tweed and buttoned it clumsily. “This isn’t the world to get attached in. This was a thank you, that’s it. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

You spun and headed to the counter. You paid the bill as Steve hovered behind you. You turned back and he neared.

“I wasn’t trying to push you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, okay? This was just...a mistake.” You gripped your purse and swayed nervously. “Have a good night, Steve. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Will you?” He countered.

“Yeah, I will.” You assured him as you stepped around him. “See ya.”

“See ya,” He said quietly and you felt him watching you as the door rang to signal your exit. Maybe you could switch for Wednesday night and avoid the inevitable awkwardness.

Sunday morning. You woke tired from a restless night. You stretched and made your way to the kitchen. Every day you drank your coffee at the counter and scrolled through the news. As you sipped, your phone buzzed. You picked up as your work number flashed in your face.

“Hello?” You greeted in confusion.

“Hey, it’s Mark.” The cheery manager sang from the other end.

“Oh, um hi?” You gripped your mug in your other hand.

“Yeah, I was just calling because...I have some bad news. We uh, had our quarterly this morning and well, our new hires are unfortunately...no longer hires.”

“What?” Your heart dropped. “Are you--Am I fired?”

“I’m sorry,” He said. “I’d really love to keep you on but it’s just not fiscal for the company.”

“Well, thank you? I guess.” You hit end and slammed the phone down. How in the fuck did you get fired mid-training? Only you.

Back to the job boards. The endless applications and pointless competency quizzes. Not even a whole week. Not one. You were fucking useless. In another month, you wouldn’t even be able to answer the emails or calls for interviews. All your eggs had been in one basket and they’d just been dumped all over the floor.

Wednesday came around and you didn’t bother getting off the couch. Saturday too. You waited for any response from potential employers and sank further into self-pity. Steve called both nights. You deleted his messages without listening to them.

On Monday, you were having your post-nap nap as a knock came at the door. It couldn’t be the landlord, it wasn’t the first and you hadn’t betrayed your lack of funds just yet. It sounded again and you dragged yourself from the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

You opened the door a crack and sighed at Steve. He had a large paper bag in his arms and his usual smile on his face. You should’ve known you couldn’t run.

“Hey,” You muttered.

“You’ve been hiding.” He said. “Figured I’d come find you.”

“You really can’t take a hint, can you?”

“Never been good at subtlety. So…?” He tilted his head. “Kinda chilly out here.”

“Fine,” You let the door fall open and backed away as he entered. You closed the door behind him and he set the bag down on the table beneath the line of hooks. “So...you too good for us now that you’ve got a job?”

“Hah,” You scoffed. “I got fired. So no. Not good enough.”

“Shit,” He frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“What’s all this? Why are you here?” You pointed to the bag. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Are you?” He retorted. “It’s an apology, okay? A nice gesture. I know those are foreign to you but hey, we missed you at the meetings. Even Dennis asked about you.”

“Dennis?” You rolled your eyes.

“You’re not invisible. You didn’t disappear that day.” He slipped out of his jacket and hung it on a hook as he kicked off his boots. “You’re still here.”

“Unfortunately.” You mumbled.

“Look, it’s my job to support you. And if you won’t come to the meeting, then I’ll just bring it to you.” He grabbed the bag and walked through to your kitchen. You followed with a sneer. “So, take a seat because we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

After that night, you went to the meetings again. Anything to keep Steve off your back. You were not one to spurn kindness but you didn’t need his pity. Plus he insisted on driving you once you protested that the subway was not worth the change. He had a counter to everything you said.

The job hunt ran dry a month after flopping at the proofreading gig. Your phone was ready to go off grid and your internet would be shut down soon enough. You still had a half month left until rent was due, the last being covered by Stark Industries. You’d have to ask Steve if you could apply again.

It was embarrassing. Especially at the meetings. Everyone else was doing just fine. Dennis seemed more content now that he had stopped drinking, Marnie started teaching foods classes down at the youth centre, and Sal and Lucky were as happy as any owner and pet could be. And there you were, hopeless.

It was a Saturday. You helped Steve tidy up. You were as quiet as you were in the meeting. You cleared the table, folded chair, and he packed up the usual tupperware for you. You were at a blockade. You felt stuck. Helpless.

“What’s up?” Steve asked as he zipped up his coat. The city was bracing for its first snowfall as the air turned bitter.

“Nothing,” You tucked the container under your arm. “Tired.”

“I think I know a good cure for that.” He joked.

You grumbled and headed for the door. He followed. He locked the door behind him and pushed the cart to the small office at the end of the hall. He’d leave the rest of the food in the fridge their for the centre’s employees to pick at. You weren’t the only one living off of grief crackers.

“I can’t afford to sleep,” You huffed.

“You know, I’m always here to help. Offer stands regardless of how many times you ignore me.” He chided.

“You’ve done too much already.” He really had. It was starting to irritate you how much he was around. How helpful he was. Even through the bullshit of this world, he was the golden saviour.

The tension rose between you. You were quiet throughout the ride. You just wanted to lay on your couch and ignore the world. You were so close to done.

Steve pulled up and you lazily grabbed your purse. You grabbed the door and he shifted the car into park.

“Hey, before you go…” He reached into his jacket. “I want you to have this.”

He pulled out the envelope and handed it over. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Early? Like a month early?” You eyed it suspiciously.

“Tis the season,” He slapped it against your hand. “Go on.”

You sniffed and took the envelope. You opened it slowly and pulled out the card with a snowman on the front. Inside was a cheque. Enough to cover you for another month. Rent and bills.

“No,” You closed the card and shoved it back in the envelope. “I can’t. This isn’t a gift. It’s too much.”

“Come on. I’m just tryna help you out,” He said. “You can’t just run from everyone.”

“I can, I can.” You snapped. “Because everyone left me. Do you understand? This...I don’t have anything for you, Steve. And I’ll never be able to pay you back, so stop.”

“It’s a present.” He insisted.

“You’ve given me enough. Really.”

“Then it’s a loan. I’m a patient lender, but I won’t just watch you give up. I know you wouldn’t be at group if I didn’t drag you there. You’d already be in a shelter. Don’t let go of what you have left just because it isn’t everything you wanted.”

You sighed. You bent the envelope and stared at it. You looked up at your townhouse and shook your head. “A loan. I will find a way to pay you back. I promise.”

“Alright. A loan.” He agreed. “Low interest, yeah?”

You raised a brow.

“A smile?” He chanced. You rolled your eyes and leaned back in the seat. You cracked a cheesy smile and he laughed. “Alright. You’re free for the night.” You opened the door and stepped out. “Wednesday. It’s our Thanksgiving meeting. Marnie’s making the turkey.”

“Wednesday,” You assured him. “I’ll bring a pie.”

Wednesday came quickly. There was a warmth to the meeting that harkened the season. Last year, none of your group celebrated Thanksgiving. This year, you all had a hand in the modest dinner held at the rec centre. Your pumpkin pie would make a good dessert after Marnie’s main course. Dennis brought the sprouts, Sal potatoes, Clara a casserole, and the rest added several other dishes to the spread.

Steve was beaming. You all sat around the table for your meeting. Your usual tense discussion dissipated to casual chatter. Almost as if nothing had changed. As if nothing was gone. You listened, content to enjoy the food, and caught yourself smiling at the scene. She would’ve like this.

You frowned and chewed slowly. You’d have to clear out her room soon. The walk-up was too much. You had held onto it for far too long. You took another bite and caught Steve peeking over at you. You tried to smile and looked away.

“Lucky would love to be here but I won’t have him flipping his stomach again. We had chicken last week and well, he’s a sneaky bugger.” Sal boomed to Marnie. “He’s doing well. The incision’s healing up nicely but this Christmas is gonna be a bit...cheap.”

“Oh yes, vet’s are not easy on the wallet,” Marnie added. “I remember when I said goodbye to Rosie. Such a sweet cat. Even got her cremated.”

“So, Sal,” Steve leaned around Marnie and you thought. You considered Sal’s harmless story but something caught in the back of your mind. It was nothing. You were paranoid. “Christmas, you said? You’re celebrating this year?”

“Well...I thought maybe. My sister and I, we’re the only ones, a cousin too. My sister...she had a baby. She was pregnant when it happened. I’ve been too afraid to see the baby but...I’m tired of thinking about death.” Sal said. His eyes sparkled. “Yeah, it’ll be nice.”

“You know, the last time I made a meal for someone else was that day.” Marnie began. “For my husband. I only cook for me now so...thank you all for letting me cook for you.”

A hubbub of thanks went up from the table. Marnie dabbed her eyes and so did Clara. Dennis sniffed into his cuff. You leaned back and looked along the table. Despite taking so much, the snap had brought you all together. Your little clan of strangers.

You wiped your face and stood. “Excuse me.” The others gave you a short glance but Steve didn’t look away as you retreated. You slipped down the hall and into the bathrooms. You locked the door and leaned against the sink.

You took out your phone and swiped through your contacts. You hit your mother’s number and waited for it to dial. After a dozen rings, it went to her voicemail. You listened to her pre-recorded greeting. She never answered. She couldn’t. It was all you had left of her. You looked in the mirror and hung up.

You tucked away your phone and pushed yourself from the counter. Your eyes burned but you sniffed back the tears. You hoped wherever they were, they were together. You took one last look in the mirror and braced yourself for your return.

You weren’t surprised to find Steve in the hall.

“You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You shrugged. “Nature calls, you know.”

“Mmm,” He grumbled, “Just making sure.”

“Yeah, fine.” You said. “Better get back before they eat all the pie.”

Christmas Eve. Instead of wrapped boxes, there were moving boxes. Your holiday was spent packing. You couldn’t put it off any longer. The only bite you had got was a three-week pop up shop in the mall selling candles. That ended a couple days ago, right after you’d given notice. There was a smaller place, just downtown. Louder, grimier, lonelier.

The only room left was hers. You avoided it as you enjoyed your discount bottle of wine on the couch. A single lamp lit up the space as you listened to the empty street and the soft fall of snow. She would’ve loved that. A white Christmas.

At the last meeting, Steve arranged a secret Santa and another feast. You kept up your attendance only for the fact that he was your ride. He insisted on it. The few days you had tried to deny him, he threatened to sit on your stoop and miss is as well.

Despite his good intentions, his presence was turning to a nuisance. He was the ghost of Christmas past, haunting you, reminding you of what was lost.

But how could you deny him. You owed him everything you had. His cheque had kept you off the street and fed. And you had nothing in return. That was what the wine was for. To forget. To erase the ledger in your head.

You were on your second glass and halfway into your book when the knock came. It was already dark out. Just after seven. It could only be one person. You weren’t prepared for him. You thought he’d be nestled in the compound with his little family of heroes. At least, that’s what he told you.

You dragged yourself to the door. You could see his outline through the frosted slats of glass. You sighed and unlocked it. He smiled as you greeted him with a mutter. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, a beanie over his golden hair, and a fleece lined collar as his chin. He held a large black bag and a bottle of wine.

“Steve, I told you, I wanted to be alone.” You huffed.

“Not on Christmas Eve,” He asserted, “Have you eaten?”

You squinted. He knew you hadn’t. He knew you too well.

“Liquid dinner,” You assured him.

“Oh, so you started without me,” He smirked. “I kinda smuggled this out of Tony’s stash.”

“You really shouldn’t be here,” You said and leaned on the door. “Go back to your friends and enjoy your holiday.”

“You know, they’re not a very festive group,” He remarked. “It’s just dinner.”

He knew you couldn’t say no. Not after all he had done. You stepped back and waved him inside wordlessly.

“Just dinner. Then you go.” You closed the door.

“Well, I brought dessert, too.” He countered.

“Steve,” You warned.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckled as he set the bag down and untied his boots. “Merry Christmas, I guess.”

You ate in silence and finished off the bottle of wine. Without your dining table, you sat on the couch and used the coffee table instead. It was a lousy excuse for a dinner.

Steve opened the second and you rubbed your temples as your head turned fuzzy. Your tongue was thick and sour from the alcohol. You were tired. Annoyed. You wanted to be alone.

“So, you’re moving?” He asked as he poured you a fourth glass. “You didn’t say.”

“You didn’t ask.” You crossed your arms. “I can’t afford this place.”

“But you will be able to. The fund--”

“The fund.” You spat. “Steve, come on. I’m not an idiot.”

“What do you--”

“I can connect the dots, you know? Sal didn’t get any help to pay for Lucky’s shots or his surgery. He said as much at Thanksgiving.” You shook your head. “I thought I could pretend to but I don’t want any more of your help.”

He was silent. He nodded to himself and drank from his glass. “How long have you known?”

“Long enough.” You hung your head. “I guess I didn’t want to accept that I was that pathetic, but I still took the money, didn’t I?”

“I just wanted to help. To do the right thing,” He set his wine down and turned to you.

“Yeah, well I can’t pay you back. I got nothing. I spent my last ten dollars on the wine.” You hissed. “I don’t want anymore charity...and I want you to go.”

You stood, unsteadily. You clung to the arm of the sofa as you tried to shrug off the head rush.

“You’ll find something. It’s fine. I’m patient.” He assured you. He didn’t move as he watched you round the coffee table. “And…”

His voice trailed off and he leaned back. His blue eyes sparked as he thought. You stopped and faced him across the coffee table. “What?”

“You don’t have to pay me back in kind. There are...other options.” He leaned forward with his arms on his knees. “I have enough money.”

You stared at him. Your mind was tainted from the wine. You weren’t understanding him.

“The candle shop might get a permanent space in the mall, I could re-apply. I’ll figure it out.” You said.

“No, I don’t want your money,” He insisted. He slid forward on the couch as he looked up at you.

“What do you want?” You whispered.

“You know what I want,” His voice was low, chilling.

“Get out.” You snarled. “Now.”

He laughed but didn’t move. “Funny. Shouldn’t I be the one telling you to get out? Seeing as I paid the rent and all.”

“Fuck you.” You snapped. “And fuck your money. Fuck you’re stupid group. I want you gone. For good.”

“It’s too late for that. And I know you don’t have my money so...I mean, I don’t really see the issue here. I’m really just doing you another favour.” He grinned. “You’re lonely, I’m lonely, it only seems natural.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How many times can I tell you no?”

“And how many times did you say yes? Hmm? You took the money, you took the food, take, take, take, and no give.” He leaned back and rubbed his thighs. “I’m really not asking for much and I doubt your landlord or the next will settle for anything less than a dollar sign so…”

Your stomach sank and your legs trembled beneath you. You looked around at the bare walls and stacks of boxes. This place was a ghost of what it once was, like the rest of the world. Like you. Like this man in front of you. Captain America no more. Just another man.

“Did you know this place already has a new tenant?” He asked. “Quite a steal in this market. Nice place, nice location…” Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him. “And that little shit hole you got above the pizza joint...it’ll be a pity if they have a grease fire and it spreads. Shit, it might even get that little bookshop next door.”

“I--you’re fucking crazy.” You slurred.

“I’m a nice fucking guy.” He countered. “You don’t even have to sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t…” You were dizzy. The wine blurred your vision and your gripped your head. “No, you can’t.”

“It’s done. Place is mine, I’ve got eyes on the pizza joint, and most of all,” He inhaled as he puffed himself up, “You’re mine.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re the ones left behind.” He said. “So...you need more wine or can we get started?”

You were numb. Tingling with doom. The walls slanted around you and flames licked along your flesh. You wiped your sweaty palms on your flannel pajama pants and shivered. Your vision narrowed to a tunnel and all you could see was Steve. His victorious smirk. His blatant arrogance.

You found your strength at last. Rather, weakness. Fear. You edge around the coffee table as he watched. When you neared, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you between his knees. He gripped your hips and played with the hem of your loose tee.

He drew you closer until you were forced onto his lap, legs bent around him as he leaned back. His hands ran along your sides and he pulled you to him. His hand snaked up around your neck and urged you against him. He tilted his head up to press his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and bided his touch.

He held you to him, his other hand slipped beneath your shirt. His fingers tickled as they brushed against your stomach. He covered your breast with his hand and purred into your lips. He shoved his hand beneath your bra and played with you. He rolled your nipple between his finger and opened his mouth, his tongue begging for entrance.

You parted your lips and his hand fell from the back of head. He gripped your hip and guided you. He moved your pelvis against his until you carried the motion. You felt his excitement as it was restrained against his jeans. You hated the thrill it inspired in you. The glimmer you had not felt in so long. The base and carnal need.

He pulled away and gasped. He untangled his hand from your bra and pushed your shirt up your torso. You looked to the ceiling and lifted your arms. The bitter taste of surrender mixed with his spit. Just as quickly, he unclasped your bra and it joined your tee on the floor. You dared to look at him as his eyes drank in the sight of your nudity.

You held back the shudder and he touched you again. He pushed your tits up and together. He leaned forward and took your nipple between his lips. Nibbled softly with his teeth as you felt the pluck deepen. He groaned and hummed as he buried his face in your chest.

“God,” He fell back. He was flush and his eyes were dark. He reached between your legs and unbuttoned his fly. His fingers grazed along your pajamas and tickled your vee as he did. “On your knees.”

He nudged your leg and you slowly backed off of him. Your hands shook as you watched him unzip his jeans and he lifted his pelvis as he rolled both denim and briefs down his ass. His cock sprang out and he sat back with a sigh. You blinked and lowered yourself to your knees.

You got closer and gripped his leg as you tried not to tip. You were suddenly very sober but still unsteady. Your body moved clumsily of its own accord. Your hand slid along his thigh, past the top of his jeans and shyly touched his cock. You pressed your palm to the soft skin and wrapped your fingers around him. He groaned and shivered.

You stroked him and he spread his arms across the back of the couch. He sank into it. Your couch. As easily as he embedded himself into your life. This man had taken hold of everything you had. Of you. And here you were, paying him your keep.

You kept your hand moving as you gathered the saliva in your dry mouth. You leaned in and opened your lips along the head of his cock. You closed your eyes. His breathing hitched as you took him in your mouth. You pushed your tongue against his shaft as you let him deeper, still holding his shaft tightly.

As you lips met your hand, you began to bob your head. The task was easier as your spit dribbled down his shaft and you worked his length. His thick fingers ensnared your wrist and tugged it away. He slipped deeper and prodded at your throat. You struggled to breath as you let him further and you took as much as you could before pulling back. You kept your motion steady. You wanted it over.

He held your hand to his thigh. His purred as you sucked him, the sounds of slick flesh against flesh filled your ears. You gulped and gagged on him as he urged you on with whispered words. You sped up as you sensed his peak rising.

His hand left yours and he grasped the back of your head. He held you down as he twitched and you struggled to breath as he emptied himself down your throat. His cum was warm and salty. You swallowed it and he let go.

You sat back and wiped your mouth. You couldn’t look at him. He reached out to move your hand and dragged his thumb along your bottom lip, still wet with his cum. You flinched away and he grabbed your wrist. He pulled you up as he stood. He was strong.

He released you and shoved your pajamas down your waist. You were almost bowled over by the force of it. Your panties followed and freed them from your ankles as you wobbled around him. He ran his hands along your legs as he stood and snaked around to squeeze your ass.

“Turn around,” He leaned down as he spoke and nuzzled your hair. He pinched and backed away.

You did as he said and his hands settled on your shoulders. He turned you and guided you to the couch. You lifted your knees onto the cushions as your legs hit the edge and he led you til you were against the back of it. He traced the lines of your back and his fingers left you tingling.

You heard him move behind you. You peeked over your shoulder as he pulled his shirt over his head. You turned back and braced yourself. You pushed your thighs together and cringed at the wetness you felt between them. You waited, the rustle of his clothing the only noise aside from his heady breaths. Eager. Excited. Enthralled.

He touched you again. His hands warm along your shoulders and back. He explored the curve of your waist and hips. Edge along your ass and thighs before pressing closer. His cock prodded you and you tried to inch away from him. You were trapped.

He brought his knees up beside yours on the couch and you felt the heat radiating from him. His hand moved between you as he guided his cock along your ass. You gripped the back of the couch and tensed as the tip of his dick glided along your folds and back to your entrance. He dipped his head down next to yours. He kissed your neck as his other hand fondled your chest.

You gasped as he pushed inside. Just a little and you were stunned. He was thick and enough to make you wince. Yet, it felt good to be touched. Even by him. He went deeper and you groaned. He pulled out and thrust back in. Just a little. He took it a little at a time. Another inch and he thrust. Testing you. Your body. Your limits.

When he bottomed out, you whined. He nibbled at your neck and his hand stretched across your throat. He ran his nose up along your jaw and cheek and his hot breath singed your skin. He thrust slowly, your entire body rocked by his motion. His little moans filled your ears you bit down to keep your own from escaping.

His pace mounted steadily. His breaths were ragged as the sound of your pussy clinging to him mingled with the clap of flesh. His other hand covered your vee and he dipped two fingers between your legs. He swirled along your clit and you flinched. You squeaked and he repeated the motion. He kept on til you were mewling and your thighs shook around him.

“It’s okay to enjoy it,” He rasped. “You should. You don’t have to be alone.”

You shook your head and squeezed your neck tighter. Your back arched deeper as he slammed into you over and over. Your ass stung and you felt the spring winding tighter. You grunted as you tried to fight the sudden whirlwind.

Your drunkenness loosened your tongue and you cried out as you came. You quivered and dug your nails into the couch.

Steve’s hand slid from your neck and around your waist. He lifted you and turned in a single motion. He sat on the couch as he kept you atop him. His hands went to your hips and he guided you up and down his cock. Your back ached as he used your body easily.

His voice grew louder and louder as he kept you moving. Faster and faster. You were dizzy and out of breath. He roared and pulled you down on him completely. A warmth bloomed inside you as he came and he rocked into you from below; small, spasmic thrusts.

He stopped you as he panted and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you back to rest against him. Still inside you.

“You can start again,” He said as his fingers crawled along your stomach. “We can start again. Here. A new life…” He stretched his hand over your skin as your blood ran cold. “A new family.”

#dark!steve rogers #Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!fic #fic #dark fic #darkverse #dark!verse #au #mcu #marvel #one shot #captain america

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hereidinathoreauwrites · 7 years

Text

Fiona Felicity Frizzle (or: Frizzle, the younger)

Magic School Bus Rides Again one-shot drabble: the adventures of Fiona Felicity Frizzle (travels through science and time with the new teacher)

No one ever could keep me tied down. Not that anyone had ever really tried.

If there was one thing the Frizzle family was, we were proud of our eccentricity and desire to learn. We were also special. Mom used to say we all had a little touch of magic. Nothing world-shaking or time-altering but just a sparkle that let us be extraordinary. And my sister and I seemed to have more than just your average sparkle.

Of the two of us, Val had always been the golden child. She excelled in both school and the extraordinary specialties of our name. She was smart, curious, charming, and talented, even among our family. That’s why no one raised any stink when she was gifted the keys at the tender age of 16. She was ready for them; everyone could see it.

And while I wasn’t far behind her in most things, in this, she indisputably won.

I never wanted to follow in Valerie’s footsteps. No one even expected it of me. We were free to pursue whatever we wished. She was just the perfect embodiment of a Frizzle. Everyone in our extended family looked up to her and I was just Frizzle: the younger.

All the same though, when Val was handed those keys, it awoke a deep hunger in me. Hunger for the kind of adventure only having the keys could provide. But the keys were out of reach. So I’d just have to find adventure on my own.

With that spirit, one day I just grabbed up my knapsack and took off. What can I say? I was 16, it was 1993 and I had waited long enough. The world was my oyster and I intended to know everything about it that I could. Keys or no keys, I wasn’t going to let my education suffer. Maybe I should have apologized for taking Dad’s Time-Winder but the thing was just collecting dust. Wasn’t it better if it was in use?

So my curious tinkering may have set the thing off and I ended up spending quite a long time on ancient Lesbos Island helping a wonderful young woman write some very beautiful poetry. In return, she let me study her father’s books on medicine and biology. It all worked out in the end. After a while, I was able to un-tinker what I had tinkered and the Time-Winder shot me forward to the year 2016. Deciding I should maybe leave exploring time for later, I instead set off to explore space.

After a few hitch-hikes and a brief stint as a stand-up comedian in Lithuania, my lucky break got me all the way to a place I’d always wanted to go — the steppes of Mongolia in the Altai Mountains. So in a way, it was lucky my plane crashed there. I met a fascinating young girl who taught me about how her culture has hunted with golden eagles for generations. I nearly got frostbite cantering after her on her hunt. In return, I taught her everything I knew about medicine and human biology. When I was ready, I left her family to join a caravan heading east.

From Mongolia came a rather trying time in Japan, where I struggled to master calligraphy and the lost art of the sword. After that, I crossed the Pacific in a one-woman kayak and nearly drowned just off the coast of Guam. A passing freighter offered me a ride and I happily bounced from Guam to Hawai’i to the Gulf of California.

Sometime later, I found myself wandering through the Brazilian jungle and somehow ended up being adopted by a family of golden lion tamarin monkeys. I think they wanted my necklace but didn’t know how to ask. They were a lot of fun, especially when they tried to comb my hair for me. I learned a lot about climbing from them. When I left, one of them followed me. Before long, she was sitting on my shoulder, comfortably jumping from adventure to adventure with me. I called her Goldie.

Goldie made my adventures more interesting by far. She was curious and sneaky, often getting her fingers into things people didn’t want them in. One time, I’d had to pry her away from a bakery in Germany after she’d discovered banana crème filling. I don’t think we’re welcome in that bakery anymore…

She’d also once pilfered the Hope Diamond. I don’t think anyone noticed though; I had recently perfected my espionage skills in study with the KGB and CIA (independently, of course) and those transferred rather well to breaking into the Smithsonian to restore the jewel.

Goldie eventually learned though that some times were better than others for sticking her fingers into things. It took a few years (and a lot of stern reprimands and banana crème pastries) but I eventually taught her.

If there was one thing I never did, it was settle down. There was just too much to see and learn. I had barely cracked into world languages, let alone the dead ones! My pack was always home to half a dozen books or so that I swapped out as I finished them. Reading a chapter or two of a classic before falling asleep at night was the best way to finish off a day of adventure. And long flights between new adventures were perfect for picking up phrases in other languages.

Goldie and I traversed the world, never once looking back in our endless thirst for knowledge and adventure.

At some point while rocketing down the Alps on stolen skis, I realized I had turned 33 somewhere in my wanderlust.

And for some reason, that made me more homesick than anything else. I debated going home but never made a move to. For one, I had effectively vanished for twenty-three years when I’d used the Time-Winder the first time. I’d be the wrong age if I went home. Val would be nearly twice my age now. It just seemed wrong. And I hadn’t even told my parents when I left.

I didn’t belong at home.

After that, I stopped counting my numerical age. I measured my life in adventures and I had more of those than I had years on this Earth. Besides, it was harder to keep track of one’s age when one was leaping through time constantly.

Despite the inherent danger I’d found in using the Time-Winder, it was irresistible to have that power and not use it. What was an adventure without a little risk after all?

And use it I did.

It was finicky but functional. I couldn’t choose the destination precisely but it always seemed to take Goldie and me where we needed to go.

1567 was an incredible year. Yes, I may have romanced both the captain’s wife and the captain himself aboard a trading vessel and then accidentally won a sword duel to become captain of a passing pirate schooner but life was so dull without conflict. So I may have picked those fights deliberately. Elizabeth was an incredible woman though…she didn’t even care that I was a woman.

Shame the pirates learned I was a woman as well and chased me halfway across the Caribbean before I managed to slip into Costa Rica and vanish.

Nikola Tesla was a surprising ally in my quest to explore time. He was fascinated by my Time-Winder, even though I’m not sure he completely understood what it was. I spent many months at his side, studying engineering, chemistry, and electricity alongside him. Leaving was difficult but I had to. Edison was getting suspicious and I wasn’t looking to end up in any history books.

I picked up guitar somewhere between Han dynasty China and 1980’s New York, which surprisingly opened up more doors for me than my newly-cultivated ability to speak 14 different languages (2 of which were dead languages!) fluently. Seems throughout most of history, people have had more use for music performers than they have for reliable translators. Goldie and I played our way across America and Russia during two different centuries on the pennies cast by passersby and the tips of the tipsy.

Splashing along the tide lines with Rachel Carson was a truly illuminating experience. Was there nothing that woman didn’t know about the ocean? She was an incredible friend and companion to me in the 1950s when I’d stopped to study the early days of space exploration and the rise of the environmental movement. And who better to apprentice myself to than Rachel herself? We took a great many tidepool specimens back to her study and spent many weeks identifying each one and making small sketches. I even offered my critiques on some of her writings.

But when she mentioned Val, I knew it was time to leave her. Coming so close to my sister while she was chasing her own adventure was jarring and it brought back feelings I hadn’t realized I’d buried so long ago.

I could pretend all I wanted but what I knew I craved, I couldn’t have. Without the keys, I was imprisoned in this life of wandering. The most I could hope for was a surface look at whatever phenomenon or historical event caught my eye. I was doomed to see everything through unbreakable glass.

But still, it was all I had. Val had inherited the keys. That left me with whatever I could take and whatever I could explore on my own. So I got even more daring.

Maybe Alcatraz was a step too far though...

Goldie and I were sailing down the Colorado River on a raft I’d constructed on my own sometime in 1842 when my real adventure finally began.

As I struggled to both man the tiller and the sail (Goldie scouting ahead from our mast), an anachronistic ringing sound came from my pack.

Strange…I wouldn’t have thought my phone would work in a time before it was invented…

Risking letting go of the tiller, I dug into the pocket and pulled out the ringing device. Wow, cell reception was surprisingly strong out here.

I answered the phone with one hand. “Hello? What’s up?” The sail rope slackened and I leaned on it to rig my sail back up.

“Hello Fi!” It had been years since I’d heard that voice.

“Val!” Goldie shrieked, drawing my attention back to the river. “Can you hold on one second?” I tucked the phone between my teeth so I could hold the sail with one hand and adjust the rudder with the other. Goldie and I shot down the river, dodging nimbly between the rapids. The rope burned into my hands and I smiled around the phone in my mouth. This was just as incredible as I had imagined!

We burst out into some steady water a few seconds later and I finally released my grip on the sail.

“Sorry about that, rapids.” I continued, holding the phone to my ear again. “What can I do you for, Val?”

“I’ve got a proposition for you, dearest sister of mine.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“How do you feel about teaching?”

“Teaching…?”

“Yes. You’d have to give up your lonely quest to explore all of time though. How does 2017 sound?”

“Does this mean…!”

“Yes Fiona. The keys are being passed. It’s your turn to inherit the Bus.”

I didn’t wait a second. Barely giving Goldie time to jump onto my shoulder, I scooped up my bag and tinkered the Time-Winder one last time.

At last, I was stepping right through that glass door.

#Fiona frizzle #fanfiction #drabble #magic school bus #magic school bus rides again #adventure #humor #short story #prequel #fiona is bi #this is my headcannon #kate mckinnon #ms frizzle #history #time travel #i'm not saying kate has to be gay in everything #but its cool if she is

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