basialine

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #18

[astromechs]

dare i ask about 25 👀

LMFAO TUMBLR WENT DOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF MY RANT, WHAT TIMING

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

ok, i'm choosing violence in the star wars fandom this morning, so:

"andor changed cassian's backstory and completely changed him as a character", that's the one.

let me preface this: andor is not a perfect show, and there are plenty of merited criticisms to be made of it that both others and myself have spoken of. tony gilroy's foot in his mouth comments at star wars celebration about how they needed to "explain cassian's accent" are weird and bad. but the cassian "backstory" that the fandom is attached to was never actually definitive canon, was alluded to in a single line in rogue one that could be taken a million other ways, and was really just present in a couple of lines of supplementary material. the backstory didn't "change" because there was no definitive canon backstory to change.

i've been in this side of the fandom off and on since 2016, and i'm fine with cassian not being a soldier in the rebellion since childhood. like, that's whatever to me. i think the backstory as presented in the show has a lot of things you can work with. star wars has worked like this for decades, where things in supplementary material are wishy washy as canon status at best — and sometimes could appear in films/shows, but could also get overruled by films/shows. that's the case here. cassian as a child soldier from fest was only ever, at best, very very vaguely ambiguously canon, and therefore what we got in andor wasn't a true "retcon" for that reason.

furthermore, this did not change cassian as a base character, imo. if you go with what's presented in the film, the character between the series and the film is a consistent character, just at different points in his development. you don't need to be in the rebellion your whole life to have the kind of devotion to the cause that cassian, as portrayed in rogue one, has; in fact, i'd argue that cassian making an active choice to enter the rebellion a little bit later in his life actually primes him to incur that kind of devotion, and to be desperate to not see it/his actions as all some sunk cost. he's still the same guy who's constantly pulled taut like a rubber band ready to snap, being actually very emotionally driven, especially by anger — which is something that we saw shine through by the timeline of rogue one, even under the clear layers of detachment, dissociation, and trauma that he has acquired along the way.

i really love this character, he's been one of my favorites for years, and i just personally really didn't have a problem with his characterization in the show? it made sense to me, and added some interesting depth you could explore while still being consistent with the character we've known. the show has a lot of valid criticisms! but i think some of the complaints about "backstory retcon" and stuff are silly, for the reasons i outlined.

choose violence asks!

[anika-ann]

My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader    Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit? 

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”  

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”  

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.  

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.  

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt. 2

Omg you guys thank you so much for all the support! Part 1 was my first fic and you guys were so sweet. I had to get started on part 2 right away. If you want to be on my taglist, just let me know! This is just leading up to the next few chapters that’s just gonna be FILTHY. I needed a bit of backstory to be satisfied, but now that the boring part is out of the way, I’m gonna go research other names for genitals. Hope you enjoy! -Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT:  2.9k

“Make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.” 

When she was first taken, of course she was scared. She didn’t know why, where she was going, if she’d be rescued. It was a painful adjustment, and some days it was as if the tears would never stop. It’s not like she was worth anything to anyone who mattered, her family wasn’t rich. Just her mom and brother. They lived a happy and normal life. 

She’d guess it didn’t really matter. At the age of 10, y/n was old enough to understand basic concepts, carry a conversation with adults, and she had strict teachers in school, so she knew how to behave. 

What she didn’t know was how to be a wife. Or a ‘life-partner’. None of the Men would ever call her a future ‘wife’. She was training to be a mate. Someone the Soldat could own and connect with so he didn’t fly off the rails if things got out of control. If he got out of their control. Every morning, a watcher would wake her up at 8AM so she could stretch, eat, and meditate. By 10AM, her first trainer of the day would come in and teach her the schooling she was missing. Just basic math and reading, a little German, and a little Russian. Not enough for her to eavesdrop on their plans, but enough to understand her Soldat if he didn’t feel like speaking English. 

At 1PM, another trainer would come and bring her to the small kitchenette down the hall. They had no intention of domesticating the ‘couple’, but she was learning to be a woman- of course the Men would have her start in the kitchen. She would learn very simple meals that could feed a fully grown man, and usually had something light for lunch herself. The men brought her the other 2 meals a day. At 3PM she would have lessons on ‘Womanhood’. At least that’s what she called it. A trainer would come in and teach her a never-ending list of rules that she had to follow in order to be a ‘lady’. It reminded her of an old Barbie movie she would watch when she was little. There was a song called ‘To Be a Princess’, where a poor girl learned how to act proper. Once she started seeing herself as that princess, the days got a little easier. Some days, they would go over how to sit and lie down like a lady. Others, they would walk laps around the halls open to her, reviewing how to walk on the balls of her feet. She learned to talk in short sentences with excellent manners, and how to brush her hair, so she could look more presentable for her Soldat. 

Over the years of compliance, the trainers softened on her just as the watchers had. Of course, they were still horrible people, but they knew she was a kind girl at heart and wouldn’t cause trouble. Some days, she would be made to sit perfectly still with a stack of books on her head, while her trainer would tell her something silly happening outside the walls of the building that became her home. She learned little bits of information about their lives, music, art. But never anything political or having to do with who the Men even worked for. That was strictly forbidden. They would let her color in her free time. Sometimes a watcher would bring a book from his home for her to read, and when she was old enough, she was given a few colors of yarn and started knitting sweaters and scarves on plastic needles. She didn’t have a clock, but she would learn by the rotating shifts of her watchers what time of day it was.

There were children whose lives sucked more than hers. And for that, she was grateful.

When she got older (let’s say 18), the training started to change. She never knew what day it was, or even what year. She had stopped keeping track so long ago, but the changes were made gradually. She would be made to read books on intimacy, and then watch videos of men brutally ravishing ladies about her size. She had to learn what to do to please her Soldat, without being taught physically. This made her happy. The thought of any of the watchers or trainers doing that to her made her sick. And everyone thought it was in her best interest to be completely innocent to the touch of a man when she has her first encounter with the Soldat.

Which turned out exactly as planned. But on the day Steve and Sam plucked her out of her bedroom, she was not expecting the Soldat to be sitting right in front of her. In all his glory.

The quinjet was eerily silent for all of seven seconds before Clint had the audacity to continue the conversation he started.

“You make the soldier happy?” was the best the shocked man could come up with.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I’m ready. They made me ready for him.” y/n said with bright, hopeful eyes. Her words flowed so easily, they sounded rehearsed.

“Do we tell her?” Tony asked Steve, who was getting greener by the second. He couldn’t believe he just got his best friend back, not two weeks ago, and now he has to worry about a girl who’s obsessed with said best friend.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. The whole quinjet looked like they were holding their breath. y/n still didn’t know the names of the three men on the opposite side of the quinjet. Two of them standing together, pausing their conversation, and the brooding man, who everyone keeps looking at.

“y/n, meet Bucky.” Steve said, pointing at the man across from her. But ‘Bucky’ went completely over her head- the name being unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” She said, offering a genuine smile, but clearly not picking up what Steve was putting down. Clint chimed in again, wanting to be out of his confused misery.

“Wait a second. Y/n. You mean the soldier, as in the Winter Soldier?” Y/n immediately nodded at hearing that name. She knew her Soldat went by that name. “As in that guy right there?” 

Her eyes went wide at the realization. He was sitting right in front of her. Staring at her since the minute she stepped onto the plane. And he was gorgeous. Long hair, thick thighs, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could probably cut glass. But he looked upset. Pissed really, and that scared her. She had one job: Make the Soldat happy. And there she was, barely presentable. She hadn’t even addressed him properly, how she was taught. With all the eyes on her, she felt a blush rush through her whole body at the embarrassing thought. But she had to. He wouldn’t like her if she didn’t follow the rules she grew up with.

Y/n daintily stood up and walked until she was right in front of Bucky. He held her eye contact the entire way, still not having said one word during this whole exchange. She gently knelt down until she was on her knees in front of him. 

“I hope I can make you happy, my Soldat. I am a gift from the Men who take care of us, and I am entirely yours.” Bucky’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t said anything this whole time, but his mind was moving at lightning speed. He watched this gorgeous, barely dressed girl sit across from him, and was already in awe. But then that girl got on her knees and declared her loyalty to him? In front of everyone he knows? He couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never been more turned on. But everything about this was wrong. She was just a Stockholm Syndrome’d girl who wanted to follow orders. But her orders were to make him happy. He finally broke eye contact with her to see Tony’s shocked face looking over at Bruce and Thor, to make sure he’s not hallucinating this. 

“Y/n, you should stand up.” He said to her in a hushed tone. Probably harsher than he meant to. He could see her visibly take a breath at the sound of his voice, his eyes followed the gentle slope of her neck down to her breast. She dreamed for years about what his voice would sound like, and it just rolled over her. But she quickly obeyed and stood in front of his seat. He expected her to say something else, but she was silent then. Her previous outburst was one of the few exceptions to her ‘only talk when spoken to’ rule. “What do you want? Where is your family so we can take you home?” He asked her. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. He didn’t want her was all she could assume. She was made for him, so why was he turning her away?

“I want to make you happy, sir. It’s all I want. Please let me be good for you. I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” Begging was familiar to her from her studies. She didn’t expect to be begging for her to be able to please him, but she would do whatever it took to get him to keep her.

“No. Y/n. This isn’t right. You were being kept there, whatever Hydra told you to do is over. You’re free now.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and it broke his heart. She tried to cover her face with her hands. He didn’t want to see her cry, nor did he want to turn her away, but he also couldn’t just let her be his sex slave. It wasn’t right. 

“Please don’t be sad. This is for the best-” He tried to reason with her, but when he took her hand off her face so she would look at him, the contact only made her sob harder. This was all she wanted. 

“Buck, I think we should just let her sit for a minute. Can you grab her some water? Tony and I will try to figure out where she was from.” Steve said to Bucky- trying to end this painful and awkward situation. Bucky stood and walked to another area of the quinjet. He was grateful to be able to use this time to think.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need your help to get you home okay. What’s your last name? How old are you?” 

“Y/L/N” And then she went quiet. It never occurred to her that she didn’t know how old she was. Of course, she remembered her birthday, but she couldn’t tell the weeks and months apart, so she hadn’t celebrated it since she turned 10 in 2006. “What year is it?”

“When did they take you?” Steve asked gently. Being a man from another time, he could remember well the day he woke up in 2011 when it was supposed to be 1944. He knew how jarring it was to discover all the time that’s been lost, and wanted to spare her that grief.

“2006. I was 10.” She looked at him, and she could tell it’s not just 2008 by the look on his face. She knew her body went through changes over her time with the Men, but between the ‘dietary supplements’ they gave her, and the fact that she wasn’t looking in a mirror- much less shopping for clothes- she didn’t realize she had fully completed puberty. 

“Y/n, it’s 2016. You’re 20 now.” And that made the tears come harder. But she wasn’t so upset about the 10 years of her life. She was mad at 20 years of her life wasted. Since Bucky didn’t want her, all of the training was for nothing. She knew living for him made her the definition of a broken person- she wasn’t dumb. The idea of her Soldat was what grounded her all that time. When she was lonely, she’d think about the man the Men always tell her about. They told her how he was their ‘greatest asset’. And she often fantasized about if he would fall in love with her. So by the time she met him, she had already been in love with him for much longer than she’d care to admit- which makes the heartbreak of rejection hurt that much more.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his heart was heavy too. He tucked away into the tiny bed area on the jet after quickly handing Steve the water to give to y/n. It was too much. Being in that room with her, she looked at him like he hung the moon. But he most certainly had not. He was a murderer. Tony’s father was a scientist during the war, and Bucky knew him pretty well through Steve. And he killed him. He had scattered memories of hurting dozens of people, so why would she be so willing to be with someone like him?

Part of him wanted it. After almost a century of not owning anything and not having a choice, he was given the opportunity to have something that belonged only to him. A gift from the men who take care of us. If it wasn’t cruel, he would have laughed in her face. Maybe she was taken care of, but he most certainly wasn’t. She was brought in young enough to still be under the impression that Hydra wasn’t evil, just strict. He imagined for a minute how things could have turned out for the two of them if he hadn’t gotten free. If Hydra really was planning on giving him a gift. He didn’t like the last gift they gave him in the shape of an arm, but y/n was perfect. She was the perfect size for him- although his broad frame could dwarf most women. And her smile pulled at his heart.

He wanted to kiss her the minute he saw her. He knew he wanted to make her his.

And that was bad.

He rubbed his hand over his face and decided to rejoin the group in the middle of their conversation. Thor and Bruce decided to stop being passive members of the conversation and introduced themselves. Y/n was very confused at Thor’s proclamation as ‘God of Thunder’, but with all that was happening, she didn’t feel it was her place to question it.

“- a good thing we have spare rooms at the compound. You can stay as long as you like.” Tony finished speaking to y/n just as Bucky was walking into the room. “We’re gonna have a new house guest MC.” He waggled his eyebrows at the man who caught the back half of that conversation.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. This would only make the situation much harder than it needed to be. He looked to Steve for an explanation. The blond stood up and made his way over to Bucky.

“Look, Hydra scrubbed her records off of every database and-” He took a deep sigh, “Her family is dead, Buck. They probably killed them after they took her.” 

Then it was Bucky’s turn to sigh. He knew the right thing to do was to help her, but he also knew how much he wanted to feel her soft skin in his hands. And that made her dangerous to be around. 

What nobody knew was why Hydra took the 10 year old from Georgia. In 2006, the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission to kill a scientist that lived there. Of course the poor guy didn’t have a chance when the Soldier was sitting in his house, waiting for him when he got home, but what the Soldier wasn’t expecting was a little girl to be coming inside with him. The scientist looked sleazy and didn’t have any children, so who knows what would have happened to her if the Soldier didn’t get there in time. She screamed and cried. The comm in his ear commanded him to kill the girl for being a witness. But the part of the Soldier that was still Bucky wanted her to be safe. He shushed the little girl and asked her for her address. When she recited it to him, he rubbed her head and told her she was a good girl, before he dug his metal fingers into the child’s pressure points and she fell limp into his arms. y/n woke up in her bed, crying at the bad dream she must have had- her mother not even home yet. That was the first act of defiance Hydra ever experienced from the Winter Soldier. First sign of humanity and compassion. They knew if the mind control was getting weaker, he would be harder to control next time they unfroze him, but his protective nature of the girl would make her an asset to them.

Her capture was arranged before his heart was fully frozen in the chamber. Neither Bucky nor y/n remembered this- Bucky only remembering parts of his time under their control, and y/n never thinking about that bad dream again, but the connection was still there as strong as it was that day 10 years ago.

Part 3

[marvelstarwarsetc]

I’ll Be Seeing You - B. Barnes

Summary: In which the reader was in WW2 with Steve and Bucky, and she and Steve realize that Bucky is still alive during the fight on the bridge. 

Warnings: Fight scenes, Angst.

A/N: I am absolutely terrible at summaries but this has been floating around in my head for so long and I finally finished writing it. I set it up so that there could be a Part 2 if people like it enough and want me to write one. I could definitely turn this into a series if I was motivated enough to do so lol.

A ghost. That’s how Natasha had described him at the hospital, with a look of fear in her eyes that was rarely ever present on the former assassin.

Ghost was certainly a perfect way to describe him. He came out of nowhere, striking hard and fast, aiming to kill. 

His face was completely concealed under a mask and a pair of black goggles, dark hair hanging loosely around his face. He wore a black tactical suit, the left sleeve missing in order to showcase a metal arm with a red star painted amongst the silver plates. 

It was clear he had some form of the super soldier serum running through his veins, his strength and agility close to if not beating that of mine and Steve’s. He was a skilled fighter, each of his fluid movements calculated and thoroughly thought through. Each blow Steve and I dealt was dodged expertly, the assassin known as The Winter Soldier never missing a beat. Had it not been for the fact he was trying to kill us I would almost be in awe of the way he moved.

As my back collided with yet another parked car I sighed, taking the brief moment Steve had allowed me when he started another assault on the soldier to refill my lungs with the air that was just knocked out of me. Then I was back in it, striking the soldier from behind, in time with Steve’s blows at the front.

But the soldier was good, he was fast, and not nearly enough of my hits were actually landing. If they were ever landing at all. 

It was when he turned to face me that I finally got the upper hand, using the momentum from his turn against him, I slammed my fist into the side of his head. The force was enough to send him stumbling back a few steps, and it caused his goggles to drop to the ground. His eyes met mine with a murderous glare and I felt my body still completely, my own eyes widening in both horror and recognition.  

I knew those eyes. A stormy mixture of blues and greys, colder than I had last seen them. But I knew them. I knew those eyes a lifetime ago, stared into them more times than I could count. Watched various emotions pass through them the longer I knew the person those eyes belonged to. They held little to no emotion now, just pure anger. A pain resting so deeply in his stare that you’d miss it if you didn’t know the person those eyes belonged to. But I did. I knew those eyes, and they held no recognition as they regarded my own covered face. 

I wore the mask to help keep my private life private. To separate the Avenger from the person. It was bad enough when someone recognized me from the exhibit at the Smithsonian and had more questions than I had answers. The tech Tony had installed in the mask was also an added bonus, the assistance of Jarvis more than welcome in a fight. But right now, the mask felt like a mistake. 

It felt like a barrier between me and the man who fell from that train all those years ago.  

He had been dead for about 70 years. Him standing here in front of me was nearly impossible. But then again, Steve and I were both meant to be dead ourselves, and we both were standing here fighting with him now. He regarded me curiously, no doubt wondering why I had stopped fighting back, those familiar eyes taking in my relaxed stance and my arms hanging limply by my sides. He threw another punch and I could hear Jarvis’ voice in my ear reminding me that the fight wasn’t over yet and offering assistance if I needed it. I could hear Steve yelling in the background, voicing his concerns on why I was no longer fighting back. Steve was begging me to continue fighting back. But Steve hadn’t seen his eyes yet. He didn’t know.

The hits kept coming and as hard as Steve tried to fight him off of me, as loud as Steve’s shouts got for me to fight back. I couldn’t. The memories of eyes filled with hope and longing paralyzing me as my body hit the ground. 

I was running late, as usual. The briefing with Captain Rogers and the rest of the Howling Commandos once again running later than expected. We were meant to be going over the schematics of our mission for the next day, but everyone kept getting distracted by the news of the band the army was bringing in for tonight. An effort to raise the troops’ spirits. It was what everyone on the base was discussing, each of the soldiers trying to find a date for the night’s festivities. Peggy and I had already turned down several invitations from various desperate soldiers.

 Every time Steve tried to bring the attention back to the mission, Dum Dum would bring up whether or not Steve planned on asking Peggy to be his date for tonight, and all of the guys would tease the captain as he blushed helplessly. 

It was inevitable that he would ask her, that much was clear. But the guys just loved to ruffle our captain’s feathers, which would have been fine if I wasn’t meant to meet with Peggy and Howard an hour ago about about some new weapons for the mission tomorrow.

Seemingly noticing the annoyance on my face Steve’s turned to a look of recognition and he apologized for keeping me from my meeting with Peg and Stark, and dismissed me from the briefing. 

I was about halfway to my destination when a familiar voice called out after me, stopping me in my tracks and causing me to roll my eyes in mock annoyance at the pet name he refused to stop using.

“Hey, Doll! Wait up!” Turning, I watched as Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes jogged towards me with a leather bound book gripped tightly in his left hand. My journal, I recognized.

“Don’t call me that,” I said softly, for what felt like the millionth time since we had met at that gym in our home town of Brooklyn all those years ago. He smiled at me, a mischievous glint in his eye since we were both more than aware he would only continue to call me that.

“You left this on the table, you were in such a hurry that you must’ve forgotten it.”

I take it from him with a small smile and a quiet thank you, and then continue to walk towards where I knew Peggy was waiting for me. No doubt thinking of all the ways she was about to murder me for being so late. I expected Bucky to go back to hangout with the other guys, but was surprised when he fell into step beside me, his hands resting in his pants pockets as we walked. 

When the building came into view his left hand reached out and gently gripped onto my right arm, causing me to halt and turn to him. 

He looked at me softly, a longing resting in his blue-grey eyes that I had seen numerous times before. A look that was shared between the two of us more times than I could count.  

“Doll-”

“Don’t call me that.”

A laugh left his nose in a huff as the sides of his mouth raised in a smile, his eyes looking towards the winter sky before looking back to me. 

“Y/N, I actually came looking for you because I wanted to ask ya something.” He started, his voice soft as he continued to look at me with those same eyes that I couldn’t help but feel myself get lost in.

“I thought you came to give me my journal?” Another laugh, and then his eyes once again focused on me.

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in going to see the band tonight?” His voice was nervous, his eyes full of hope and something I couldn’t quite place. I knew what he was asking. I was hoping he wouldn’t.

It’s not that I didn’t want to go with him. In any other scenario I would have said yes in a single heartbeat. However, this wasn’t any other scenario. I was the only woman in the Howling Commandos, the only woman on the front lines in the entire U.S army. Getting them to accept me even after Dr. Erskine gave me the serum was almost impossible. Every day that I am here I have to prove myself. I have to be better, stronger, faster. I didn’t need to show my true feelings for another soldier and have everyone use it as a means to try and get rid of me.

And if that wasn’t enough of a reason there was the obvious one. We were in a war. A war where people died constantly and there was nothing to do but keep fighting. I had already lost my father and three brothers to this war, my twin included. I refused to let myself get close to someone and then lose them too. Losing my twin brother almost killed me. And looking into Bucky’s eyes I knew that losing him would be more than I could handle. 

Still, not being able to find the strength in my heart to turn him down directly I did what I always did. Deflected.

“I fully intend on going to the band tonight,” I stated in a matter of fact tone, my eyes betraying me when I had to look away from his stare. 

“You know how I meant it, Doll.” His voice was soft, yet steady, and his gaze never once faltered as his blue orbs bore into mine.

“Don’t call me that,” I said meekly. My eyes cast completely at our boots in the snow now, not being able to find the strength to look at him any longer. All it did was make me falter in my reserve.  

I heard him sigh, and then he said my name so softly I almost didn’t hear him. The softness in his voice cause my eyes to meet his, and his smile was kind, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“At least save me a dance, Doll?” 

I simply nodded my head slowly, words not coming to me in that moment. The way he was looking at me was causing my brain to malfunction, I was sure of it. I couldn’t go as his date, but what was the harm in one dance?

“I’ll see you tonight then, Doll.” 

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts before I turned around to see a smirking Peggy standing behind me, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me knowingly.

“Alright then, since you’ve managed to skip our meeting almost entirely I don’t see the point in trying to start it now. Stark will just have to explain things to you before your mission tomorrow. Now, we have a dance to go get ready for.” 

I smiled at my friend thankfully, before the two of us made our way to our shared tent to try and find something in her closet to wear tonight.

By the time we finally walked into the large tent the band was playing in, the party was in full swing. Men and women were dancing and laughing gleefully, something that had become a rare sight in recent years. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been to something like this, or even had worn a dress. 

Peggy had leant me a sea green number, with long sleeves and had what Peg called a “floaty A-line skirt” that came to just below my knees. It was possibly the most comfortable dress I had ever worn, which is what made me agree to keep it on even though I much rather would have put my trousers and boots back on. Peg had even done a little makeup on me, and it made me realize that I don’t think I’d ever worn makeup in my life. 

“Y/L/N, You might finally give Barnes a heart attack tonight looking like that.” Dum Dum called from behind me, making me shake my head with a light laugh as I turned to my fellow Howling Commandos. They were all regarding me with curious looks, no doubt wondering how Peg got me to agree to wear this. 

“Forget Barnes, I think I’m having one right now!” Morita clutched at his heart with a dreamy look on his face, causing Dum Dum to hit him on the back of his head with a laugh. I only chuckled at my friends’ antics.

Peggy went off to find Steve, and I found myself getting lost in the crowd searching for a familiar pair of blue eyes. 

Dum Dum must have recognized what I was doing, because he only made a sound of disapproval before taking my hand and leading me over to the dance floor, guiding me in the steps to the dance that everyone here seemed to know but me. 

"I thought you turned him down when he asked you to be his date?” Dum Dum asked me in between steps, and I rolled my eyes softly.

“I suppose I should have guessed he’d go back and tell you all of our conversation.”

“When are you gonna stop pushing him away and realize what everyone else already knows?” My friend asked me softly, knowing it was a touchy subject for me. Dum Dum knew full well why I was so reserved about admitting my feelings for a certain blue-eyed soldier. One night with a bottle of bourbon and the man had me confessing all of my greatest fears to him. 

“Timothy, you know why I don’t.” The use of his first name caused the man to let out an additional sound of disapproval as he led me through the next part of the dance. 

“Aren’t dames supposed to know how to dance? You step on my foot again and I might lose it!” He joked, my hand coming out to swat at his arm. 

“Call me a dame again and you’ll lose more than just your foot!”

Over the course of the next few songs I found myself dancing with each one of the Howling Commandos, excluding Steve, who was dancing with Peg happily. Both wore big smiles, and the sight warmed my heart and made me question myself for a moment. 

Peggy and Steve were clearly in love with one another, and it was clear that they would end up spending the rest of their lives together when this was all over. Their love for one another was so clear that everyone who took one look at them knew it, and no one thought of Peg as any less strong because of it. So why would it be any different for me? 

My thought was cut off when the song ended and the male singer took a break, a woman taking the stage in a beautiful dress, the sparkles making her seemingly shine. The band started a new song, something much slower than the last few. I let go of Jim and thanked him for the dance, before excusing myself and heading for the exit. 

We had an early mission in the morning. An important mission at that. We finally got a good lead on where Zola would be heading next, and were going to board the train and stop him before he could get to his next destination. If this mission was successful and we captured the scientist, it would give us a leg up on The Red Skull. A leg up that could possibly mean an end to this war. 

I had just exited the tent when my body collided with another, nearly knocking me off my feet before a large pair of hands grabbed my forearms and stopped my body from colliding with the snow covered ground. 

I went to apologize, but stopped when I looked up to see Bucky standing in front of me in his uniform, his hands still lightly grasping my arms. His smile overcame his entire face when he looked at me, and the sheer happiness in his eyes was enough to make my heart swell. 

“All these years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen ya in a dress, Doll.” His tone was playful, yet warm, and in that moment I couldn’t find it within myself to argue with him about that name.

“You’re late.” I informed him softly, his hands now leaving me and causing a cold feeling to fill my body from the loss of contact. Though he didn’t pull away from me, and was still so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“Had some stuff to do before tomorrow, but I made sure to come down to dance with my best girl.” 

Ignoring the fluttering in my chest I took a step away from him, reminding myself of why I couldn’t get close to him.

“I was just leaving-”

“Just one dance, Doll. You promised.” And before I could say anything Bucky took my hand in his, his right hand moving to my waist to hold me delicately, starting to sway us slightly to the new song that was just beginning to play. 

I recognized the song. It was a soft one, with a pretty melody. I think the original singer’s name was Billie Holiday, but the woman on stage sang it just as beautifully. The words reaching something deep inside of me. 

I'll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through  

I wound my free hand around the back of his neck affectionately, bringing the two of us closer than we ever had been before. From this angle I could see every shade that nestled inside of his blue eyes, the colors swirling as he looked at me with that look in his eyes that I still couldn’t place. The look that set my skin on fire every time he looked at me like that.

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel The chestnut trees The wishin' well

“Doll, there’s something that I’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while now,” He began. A nervousness setting in his eyes and mixing with that unknown feeling. 

“What is it, Buck?” I asked, my voice in a near whisper. The nighttime air was cold, yet comforting as the soldier held me in his embrace, the band’s song wrapping around us as it floated through the air. 

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In everything that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Doll.” He let out in a breath, his nervous eyes still focusing on mine. 

“You’ve been wanting to tell me that I look stunning tonight for a while?” I joked lightly, causing him to laugh. 

“No. Well not no, you do look stunning tonight. So stunning. Absolutely beautiful, not that you’re not beautiful all the time! I think you’re always beautiful, which kind of has to do with what I’ve been trying to tell you-”

I cut him off with a soft whisper of his name, not wanting him to finish his sentence because I didn’t have the strength to hear it and then have to walk away and pretend that I didn’t.

I'll find you In the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you

“Buck, Please don’t.”

“I know that you’re scared, Doll. I know and I understand it, I do. I understand it because every time I look at you, I am so terrified of losing you. I know that things are tricky right now-”

“Things aren’t tricky, Buck! We are in the middle of a war. Either one of us could die at any time. We could die tomorrow, and I can’t lose you. That’s why you can’t finish your sentence, because there’s just too much we could lose if you do.”

“Doll, Y/N. Me not saying it won’t stop either of us from losing the other. Whether I say it now or don’t one of us could still die. And don’t you think it would be so much worse to lose each other without having told each other what we both already know?”

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In everything that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

The song continued to play but we had stopped dancing by now, just desperately holding onto each other as Bucky’s words hung in the air.

“You are everything to me, Y/N. My light, my laughter. The reason I get out of bed every morning to face another day of this war is knowing that I get to do it beside you. I look at you and I forget every bad thing that’s happening. I look at you and I’m not in the middle of Siberia fighting a war that we might not win. I look at you and I’m back in Brooklyn, watching the cluelessly beautiful girl sweep around the gym just waiting until everyone leaves so she can start throwing punches at the bag. I look at you, Doll, and I’m home.”

By the end of his confession tears were lining my face, freezing against my skin as the cold Siberian night air brushed against them. His hands let go of me and instead came up to hold my face delicately, his thumbs reaching up to brush the tears away. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anybody else. More than someone can love another person. It fills me completely. Every ounce of my being is you. And I know that you’re scared. And I know that you probably won’t say it back to me because you’re the most stubborn person I have ever met in my life, and that’s okay. It’s okay if you can’t say it back right now. It’s okay because I know that you love me too, even if you can’t say it.” 

He finally ends his confession with a lingering kiss to my forehead, pouring so much love into that one simple gesture, and then he lets me go. He gives me one last smile before telling me he’ll see me tomorrow, and turns back towards his tent.

I'll find you In the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you

I’m shocked back to reality when this version of Bucky’s fist lands a hit so hard to my face that the metal of my mask cracks, finally making me have to take it off to avoid it slicing into my skin further. 

The second the mask leaves my face his assaults stops coming. When I open my eyes he isn’t the winter soldier anymore. The look in his eyes is a mixture of hurt, anger, confusion, recognition, and that look I haven’t seen in nearly seventy years.

It’s clear that whatever Hydra’s done to him had jumbled his mind. If they hadn’t, he would have recognized Steve right away. 

I lay motionless beneath him, not daring to make a move as his mind tries to process what’s going on. I can see the confrontation going on in his head as every emotion presents itself in his eyes.

Finally, he focuses back on me and removes the mask from where it covered his nose and mouth. Physically, he has barely aged in the last seventy years. But all the innocence that remained on his face then was completely absent now. His features hardened by heartache and death. 

In the background I can hear Steve’s gasp as he finally realizes who we had been fighting and why I had stopped the moment I saw his eyes.

“Bucky?” Steve asks, drawing Bucky’s attention from me as he gets up and turns toward his once best friend.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

[boop-le-snoot]

If life gives you melons...

Ship: Loki x F!alt! reader

Rating: Explicit / word count 5,5k

Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles [youtube link].

During a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.

x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter.

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud.

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation.

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day.

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts.

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting.

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant.

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job.

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return.

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh.

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed.

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused.

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse.

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth.

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace.

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit.

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting.

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He cooed, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him.

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover.

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air.

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him.

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies.

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank.

His friend barely managed to keep the snickering at bay as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body.

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room.

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person.

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.

[crystal-witchiness]

***Okay so I found this in my notes from May 2021 as a reaction to the scenes in the beginning of Endgame when Captain Marvel first brings Tony and Nebula back to Earth, when they first get off the ship, and when Tony yells at Steve a few scenes later when he looks like ‘Death Warmed Over’ in his robe and i thought I’d share -

Every time someone argues with me about my ABSOLUTE 100% belief that Steve and Tony had romantic feelings for each other, I’ll just show them this scene. “And I needed YOU.” He didn’t say “You guys” or “Your help.” Tony looked at Steve with so much pain in his eyes and said, “I needed y o u.” And Steve is just as broken watching Tony. This isn’t the first time this has happened between them. They had MANY scenes like this in Civil War (but I like to pretend that movie didn’t happen cause ‘ow blow a hole in my ship why dontcha?’) I mean technically I could submit that whole movie as evidence of their feelings but there are too many negative emotions wrapped up in it and it hurts. This movie is the first time they’ve seen each other since Civil War and when Tony first gets off the ship he basically falls into Steve’s arms. First of all, Steve fricking S P R I N T S when he sees Tony getting off the ship, then Tony sighs in relief and lets Steve take his weight. AND IMMEDIATELY begins unloading his grief about losing Peter cause he knew Steve would understand and comfort him. You can SEE s e e when Pepper runs up that (Ofc Tony does another sigh of relief that the snap didn’t take her (which I wish it did sorry Pepper your character stopped being interesting in the 2nd Iron Man)) Tony has to pull himself off of Steve and pretend to have it more together than he does because Pepper immediately begins crying and Tony has to comfort her. But Steve doesn’t leave his side. Tony cradling Pepper but he’s turning his body so that Steve can cradle him and ugh. Honestly I would have accepted a polyamorous relationship. Tony NEEDED someone to be the leader. THATS LITERALLY WHAT PEPPER WAS TALKING ABOUT. Tony NEVER rests because he always thinks he has to be the one to do everything, EXCEPT for when Steve’s around. Steve is the Captain and even though they bump heads (a lot, awww couples’ squabbles) Tony ALWAYS defers to Steve when it’s important. And Steve? Steve HAS to be a leader, to be helpful, in a healthy way because he couldn’t be that for most of his life in the past. He was a scrawny defenseless guy who always had to depend on Bucky. So to be able to take care of this group of wonderful people who are so powerful and yet STILL NEED STEVE? It’s who he his. It’s who Tony is too but he doesn’t WANT to be that way, he does it because he has to. He does it when no one else can or he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. This scene right now is Tony feeling helpless and so he lashes out at the easiest person, Steve. Steve is their leader and has saved them many times. Tony saw that picture of Peter and couldn’t handle his own feelings of helplessness so he lashed out to bring down the next ‘leader figure’ of the group. Steve and Tony have always been the parents of the Avengers. Steve is the most dad-est dad ever to dad. Meanwhile, Tony invites everyone to live with him while feeding them, clothing them (armor and civilian clothes) and making sure they have top of the line protection. HE LITERALLY EVEN SAYS THIS IN AGE OF ULTRON. SUCH a mom. So he wanted to make Steve feel his pain because Steve made a promise that they would lose together and Steve wasn’t there on that moon. And OF COURSE Tony knows that Steve was on earth fighting his own battle against Thanos but he wasn’t WITH Tony. And they are always stronger together than apart. (Civil War kinda proved this too) Tony sees Steve’s absence as the reason they lost, because ‘if only they’d been together’ ‘maybe we could have won if we’d only been together.’

ALSO DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TONY LITERALLY GIVING STEVE A REPRESENTATION OF HIS HEART. I know he did it out of anger and to make a point but he took away this piece of him, that he made SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE HE FELT VULNERABLE WITHOUT THE ARC, and gave it to Steve. Once again shedding that responsibility and giving it to Steve. Because even with the residual anger over Civil War, Tony trusts Steve. He says otherwise in this moment out of anger but that “vision” he talks about here? He literally watches Steve die (YEAH THATS RIGHT I SAID STEVE. Not PEPPER, NOT RHODEY, NOT ANY OF THE OTHER AVENGERS.) Wanda showed him his worst fear in Age of Ultron and it was the death of the Avengers, but he didn’t see THEM die. Everyone else, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were already dead. Tony watched STEVE die and it was STEVE saying that Tony could’ve saved them that spurred him into creating Ultron. He was so scared of losing them and letting Steve down (and letting him die) that he wanted to wrap the whole world in armor to protect him. And he tries to do it again in this scene. He means it to be spiteful but he gives Steve his armor and tells him to hide from Thanos. WHICH IS ANOTHER THING UGH. Tony doesn’t know that out of all of the people who fought Thanos in Wakanda that day, Steve was the one who engaged in hand-to-hand combat with him. Everyone else had armor and suits, weapons, etc. Steve has his serum strength and he u s e d it. It didn’t help for very long but he used his BARE HANDS to fight an alien-monster wielding 5/6 of ALL POWERFUL infinity stones, and ofc he was never going to win, but even Thanos looked at Steve in incredulity at his bravery and resolve. A human (a super charged one at that but still a human) fought him with his bare hands and wasn’t going to stop. (Steve proved this again at the end of Endgame when he’s the last one standing against Thanos and his entire army and just tightens the strap on his broken shield, (and most likely broken arm, based on the flinch/hiss) and readies himself to fight alone. Steve also gave Wanda time to destroy the mind stone (unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything in the end)

AND YET Tony doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t know how hard Steve fought, just like Tony did on Titan, to stop Thanos. And I REALLY wish we had seen Tony’s reaction to Steve standing up to Thanos at the end of Endgame OR EVEN WIELDING MJOLNIR, but anyways.

Back to the basics. Boss level stuff most people don’t remember or think about- Tony’s dad very unhealthily IDOLIZED Steve. He canonically compared everything Tony did to Steve. So Tony grew up idolizing this man that he also despised because it fueled his father’s abuse of him. Tony shows this anger in the first Avengers. When they have their argument on the quinjet. “Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” He even says something about how Steve didn’t live up to his father’s hype (I don’t remember Tony’s exact words but that’s the gist) And ofc Steve says Tony’s nothing without his armor. But then they go on the prove each other wrong multiple times, but mainly in their last moments in the MCU. Steve proves it by standing alone against an ENTIRE alien army and later by picking up mjolnir. And Tony? Tony is that ONE factor in a million that Stephen sees. Tony, a beautifully pure human-being, with no powers or serums to help, takes on the powers of the stones. KNOWING it would kill him. He had proof. It nearly killed Thanos and Bruce and they were hulking (pun intended) beings with super strength and all that.

Tony and Steve were always set up to be spoils to one another and that makes them perfect together. They balance each other out. Pepper was a boss b****, no doubt, and I loved their relationship in the first two Iron Man movies, but as their characters grew and Tony’s personality was intrinsically changed through trauma- Pepper was no longer right for him. She was good for him, no doubt, but Tony couldn’t relax with her as he did with Steve. Tony could trust Steve to take over and everything could be fine. Pepper was like that for Stark Industries but not in other ways. Tony always saw himself as Pepper’s protector. I will 100% give her props for telling Tony that he’d never rest until he tried Scott’s time travel theory, but other than that she wasn’t particularly supportive of Iron. Man. What Pepper never seemed to understand, and what Steve didn’t understand when he FIRST met Tony, is that Tony and Iron Man are synonymous. Their is no ‘man outside the suit.’ Tony Stark is Iron Man and Iron Man is Tony Stark. Steve was placed into an already created persona of Captain America. Steve didn’t create Captain America even though that’s who he was. He was literally MADE for the role. Tony on the other hand, MADE Iron Man. He was the one who built the first suit - dying in a cave in Afghanistan. He was the one who took responsibility for Obadiah and his father’s actions and became a superhero to save the countries that were affected by Stark tech. Steve may have volunteered to be a superhero because he felt like he had no one other choice but Tony DIDN’T HAVE TO. He had fame, money, power, ALL OF IT. He could’ve EASILY hidden his company’s dark underside once he found out. But instead, Tony was like “Hey um so my company has done some bad things and instead of delegating aid through my money and power, I’m going to personally handle this with a titanium alloy suit and technology that I helped create in a cave while being held captive by a terrorist cell.”

Where was I going with this? OH YEAH.

I will believe in TonyxSteve (Stony) for the rest of my life and I will use fanfiction to fill the void of their deaths. Basically, if I lost anyone in the word vomit above, what I’m trying to say is that- Steve and Tony completed each other. They provided something the other needed. Tony needed stability and protection. He needed to feel like he could let go. Steve needed an anchor in the present. Someone lively and opinionated, SOMEONE ADVENTUROUS AND FUNNY, who Steve could smile with and protect. But also. Steve trusted Tony to be a leader as much as Tony trusted him. They had their ups and downs. Trauma and the Accords didn’t help their relationship at all, but should’ve been it for each other. And I honestly believe they would have t h r i v e d.

.

.

.

Honestly I applaud anyone who made it this far. I don’t know where this all came from but I will not apologize✌🏻

I rest my case your honor.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch35: Not A Perfect Soldier, But A Good Man.

Summary: Almost twelve moths post the vents in Siberia, the four friends are reunited with two familiar faces. Presented with an opportunity that they find too good to turn down, they find themselves back running missions off radar, one of which takes Steve to a dark place within himself, where he finds himself compromising his moral code. 

And then his phone rings…

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words. Mentions of rape/sexual assault.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Wonderful edit again from @angrybirdcr. And make sure you check out the related one shot- Vanilla, which takes place during this timeframe.

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

Chapter 34

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

June 2017

“Well as far as birthdays on the run go guys, this one’s been the best one I’ve ever had!” Katie grinned as they climbed out of their 4x4 at the Safe house.

Steve and Sam exchanged a look over the roof of the car.

“What?” Katie asked, innocently.

“I can’t tell if that was sarcasm or…” Sam looked at Steve before he turned back to Katie pushing his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. “No, honestly guys I’ve had a great morning.” She smiled at them. “Breakfast was amazing, it was a nice walk round the castle, the sun is out and now we have a BBQ to get fired up!”

It was almost a year now since they’d been on the run. After a brief few months apart where Katie and Steve had been in Wakanda, Sam had been flitting round a few old friends and Wanda had been travelling with Vision, they had all reunited at the end of May, Wanda bringing with her some rather interesting news.

“I did find some stuff out.

Apparently Tony hasn’t spoken to Ross properly in months. When you guys broke out the raft, Ross called him for help and he put him on hold for hours.” Katie looked at Steve, both of them sharing a grin.

“It didn’t go down well. They had a huge bust up and apparently Tony told him to err, and I quote ‘go fuck himself’.” Wanda said, smiling slightly. Steve snorted as she continued. “Said he didn’t answer to SHIELD, the Government or anyone else.”

A pang of affection and guilt hit Katie’s chest. Even after everything her brother was still watching her back. She looked down at her food and blinked, the tears threatening to fall out of her eyes.

“He’s err, he and Pepper, they’re getting married.” Wanda hesitated and Katie took a deep breath.

“Wow, he finally did it.” She whispered, not looking up as she pushed a piece of carrot round her plate, swallowing thickly. “That’s…”

“How’s Rhodes?” Sam asked, changing the subject swiftly and Steve gave him a look of thanks across the table, as he gently reached over and wrapped his hand around the back of Katie’ s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze of affection before his thumb gently began to trace shapes on the soft skin just beneath her hair line. She looked at him and smiled. 

“I’m okay.” She assured him “Honestly.”

Steve kept his hand were it was nonetheless as Wanda continued talking.

“Rhodey is good, the braces he has mean he can walk.” At that Sam looked down, Steve glanced at him. He knew he felt guilty about what had happened.

“And that’s it really.” Wanda shrugged. “Nothing else to report.”

“Glad to hear everyone’s doing good.” Katie nodded. “So you want to see Vision again?”

“I know it might seem odd, or even dangerous.” Wanda mused, “And we’re still at odds over the Sokovia Accords, but yeah, I do.” “Odds?” Steve asked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he still seems to think that the Accords were right. So, we’ve kind of just agreed not to talk about them. But, even with that, well I just can’t be without him.”

“We love who we love.” Steve said wisely, “If we’re lucky they share our feelings as well as our lives.”

“Like you two you mean?” Sam snorted looking at Steve and Katie “You two are so in tune, sometimes I think you’re actually reading each, others minds.” “How do you know we’re not?” Katie grinned and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Like I said, lucky.” Steve shrugged, pressing a kiss to the side of Katie’s head as he moved his arm from around the back of her and carried on with his food.

“No one should keep you from him if that’s how you feel.” Katie looked at Wanda. “That’s the last thing we would ever want.”

“Yeah you go ahead.” Sam snarked, pulling Katie’s attention back to the here and now. “We’ll grab the bags, don’t worry about it.” “Thanks Sam, you’re a darling.” Katie grinned over her shoulder.

Sam sighed and shook his head. “A fucking liberty, that’s what this is! You wanna remind her of those ground rules, Steve.”

“You remind her.” Steve shot back as they watched the two women head unlock the door to the house.

“You scared of your Missus, Pal?”

“Yes.” Steve said simply and Sam laughed, before he turned and opened the trunk of the car. 

In the house, Katie walked through the small porch and into the living room and immediately stilled. There was something wrong, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Holding an arm out to Wanda she stopped the younger girl and looked at her. Understanding straight away, Wanda’s familiar red tendrils began glowing from her hands. As Katie looked around, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something was there, her eyes fell on a bottle on the coffee table, a bottle that hadn’t been there when they left this morning.

Beluga gold line vodka.

Katie felt her lips curve into a smile “You can come out now.” She stated simply, not bothering to turn round. “You know, I thought spies were supposed to be subtle.”

“Who says I was trying to be?” A familiar voice drawled, causing Wanda to spin round, her mouth falling open in surprise as Natasha stepped out of the smaller living room at the far side of the house.  

Katie turned and looked her friend over. “That why you cut all your hair off and dyed it blonde?”

“Changes is as good as the next.” Nat smirked.

“Good to see you Widow.” Katie beamed, striding over to her and pulling her into a hug.

“You too.” Natasha smiled, squeezing her back. “Happy birthday, Nova.”

Katie released her and Nat turned to Wanda, wrapping her up in a hug too. “I’m telling you man.” Sam’s voice filled the room as he and Steve walked into the house each carrying bags of groceries and snacks for their BBQ “She was putty in my hands. If he hadn’t turned up I’d have-MOTHER FUCKER!” He yelled, dropping the bags he was carrying as he spotted Natasha.

“Nice to see you too, Birdbrain.” She smiled before her face turned to Steve “Rogers.” “Nat?” He blinked in surprise, setting the bags he was carrying down a little more gently than Sam. “Dare I ask how you knew where to find us?” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, amused smile “Fury.” She shrugged. “Finished the loose ends I needed to tie up and had to make a swift exit, so he told me where you were. Thought I’d come and see how you were all getting along.” “We’re just peachy.” Sam smiled as he stepped forward opening his arms, “Come on not-so-red-anymore, bring it in.” She gave a huff and then stepped into his arms before she turned to Steve who smiled at her as he pulled her into a huge bear hug.

“I like this.” She leaned back, pulling at his beard and he jerked his head way out of her reach, arching an eyebrow at her. What was it with people and thinking they could just touch his face now he had a beard? That was something reserved for his wife and his wife only. Katie laughed, noticing his irritation as Natasha continued. “Hardly recognised you.” “Well that is the point.” He rolled his eyes.

“Are you sticking around?” Sam asked.

“Well I got nothing else to do.” Nat shrugged. Katie and Steve exchanged a grin, her blasé tone didn’t fool them. She looked tired and slightly shaken, so whatever mission she’d been working on had clearly been tough.

“Well in that case…” Katie picked up the bottle of vodka that was on the table. “How about we crack this open whilst the boys get the grill going?”

A couple of hours later they were full of BBQ meat, salads, potatoes, vodka, beer and juicy information. Whilst Natasha didn’t tell them much about what she had been up to in Russia, she did fill them in on what SHIELD was doing. 

“They’re calling themselves the ‘In-Human Resistance’.” Natasha explained as she showed them a few photos of the growing Vigilante group on a tablet, a group that seemed to be fast gaining traction in America. “They staged an attack in LA and Miami recently. Both at the same time, co-ordinated.”

“They’re fighting registration with the Sokovia Accords?” Steve asked, taking a pull from his bottle of beer.

Natasha nodded.

“Those damned accords have already caused more trouble than they’re ever gonna solve.” Sam said shaking his head. “First the ‘Watchdogs’ emerge to fight In-Humans, now this group emerge to fight them back.”

“This was always going to happen. SHIELD monitored Enhanced beings and In-humans.”  Katie shrugged. “And it worked without the need for any stupid laws.”

”Yeah, so now the plan is that SHIELD are going to go legit. Come out into the open again.”

At that Katie raised her eyebrows. “And Coulson?” “No.” Natasha said, “Coulson will be in the shadows, the public director is going to be a bloke called Jeffrey Mace. He seems a decent guy.” “You know him?” Katie asked.

“Met him briefly. He was at the Accord signings in Vienna as a journalist would you believe it?” “Well he will know how to work the PR angle.” Wanda spoke for the first time in a while and Katie looked at her. She was pushing a piece of potato round on her plate, absentmindedly, no doubt wondering what would happen to her if she ever was caught with all the new rules and hatred being pushed out towards Enhanced or In-humans.

“They’re calling him Patriot.” Natasha said, and she looked at Steve, smirking slightly “Brooklyn boy, just like you Cap. Volunteered for some experiment that would give him super human strength in the wake of the Vienna bombing.” Steve let out a groan “Have SHIELD not learnt anything?”

“You had a lucky escape.” Nat quipped “If you hadn’t been on the run, they’d have been asking you to lead them from the front. Coulson wanted an enhanced person to run in the public eye, drum up support, show the world that they’re not to be feared.” “Nothing more than bullshit, political games.” Sam scoffed, and Natasha raised her eyebrows in agreement.

“Which we, thankfully, are well out of.” Steve leaned back, although Katie could see the nerve ticking in his jaw.

“Are you? Thankful, I mean?” Nat asked and Steve looked at her, frowning. “You not missing being in the thick of it at all?” He didn’t answer. If truth be told he couldn’t, not really. Some days he missed the action, missed having a job to do as such. Whilst he’d helped out occasionally for a bit for cash at the harbour, casual labour and muscle when they needed it, it wasn’t nearly challenging enough.

“What are you saying Nat?” Katie asked. Natasha sighed and leaned back.

“Fury isn’t working as part of SHIELD at the moment, not directly anyway.” She looked at her. “He’s running a few jobs off radar. At the moment he’s currently tracking a few old arms dealers that seem to be back trading old SHIELD and Chitauri stuff. Turns out in the wake of the Avengers being disbanded they all started getting brave again.” “Who’d have thought it?” Katie snorted sarcastically as she chewed at her lip. Steve and her had held this very conversation in Wakanda, wondering how long it would be before the groups they had all but eradicated emerged again in the wake of their split.

“So is that why you’re here?” Steve eyed her suspiciously “Fury wants you to recruit us?” “No.” Nat shook her head, before she smiled at Steve. “He’s going to do that himself when he drops by tomorrow.”

*****

"Why don’t you ask one of the ‘registered heroes’ for help?” Steve raised his eyebrows at Fury as the man finished explaining what he wanted the group to work on.

Fury scoffed. “Whilst SHIELD is of course, in full cooperation with the Accords, this case isn’t exactly on their radar right now.”

“What you mean is, that if it becomes public knowledge that more Chitauri and SHIELD weapons are emerging it will damage what little reputation SHIELD have managed to claw back.” Katie folded her arms. “Because they shouldn’t have ever let it get to this because you should have gotten rid of it all in the first place.”

“Look, Nova.” Fury was quick to reply. "I don’t like this any more than you do, and yes, in hindsight there are a lot of things that SHIELD should have destroyed or shut down back in the day, but I wasn’t the only one making those calls. Pierce had a lot of sway.”

“So effectively you want us to protect SHIELD’s reputation?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Why should we do that?” Wanda asked, looking at Fury “Where were you when we needed you?”

“She has a point.” Sam looked at Fury “I mean, I don’t remember SHIELD jumping to our defence after we risked everything to get to Siberia.”

Fury looked at Steve who simply raised his eyebrows. Both he and Katie agreed with Sam, they had expected at least some help from the Director but it never came. 

Or so they thought.

“Just who do you think it was that leaked to the press exactly what went down between you all?” Fury asked, leaning back in his chair. Katie felt her mouth curl up in a smile.

“That was you? Huh, I assumed it was Murdock.” “Well to assume makes an ass of you and me.” Fury quipped, looking at her. “Furthermore, thanks to me there’s currently a group of bounty-hunters sweating their asses off looking for you all in Cairo.”

Steve and Katie exchanged glances before they looked at Sam then Wanda.

“And I’ll continue to help leave false trails as I still believe in you all.” Fury looked at them each in turn “The Accords, this entire situation, yes, it’s a mess but I’m still hoping you guys care enough to want to keep fighting the good fight.”

Katie glanced at Natasha who had remained quiet through the entire discussion. She simply raised an eyebrow and gave a small smile.

“Think about it.” Fury stood up. “Romanoff knows how to contact me. When you’ve made your decision, let me know.”

He headed for the door before he turned back and looked at Katie.

“Oh, and Nova, that final trick you pulled, hacking into the CTU. It worked.”

Katie smiled and gave a small ‘huh’ of laughter and watched the man depart through the same door he’d arrived little over an hour previously.

“Okay, colour me intrigued, what did you hack the UN for?” Natasha looked at Katie and Steve tilted his head as his wife gave a coy smile.

“Technically it was Lawson. When he was digging up the information on the illegal arrests I had him wipe all the records of who accessed their evidence vault when all our gear got broken so Sharron didn’t get into trouble.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up into a small smile as he looked at his wife, once again unable to believe how downright clever she was.

“Wait.” Wanda said, frowning “Why did you do that?” “She’s a Carter.” Katie shrugged as if that was supposed to make sense. And it did to Steve and Natasha but as Sam and Wanda looked at her blankly she took a deep breath and explained “After everything Peggy did in the SSR, founding SHIELD, working with my dad, she deserves for her name and legacy to remain unsullied.”

She locked eyes with Steve who could do nothing but simply look at her, his face soft before he smiled “You really are amazing you know that?”

After an afternoon spent deliberating over Fury’s proposal, Steve told them all to sleep on it and they would make their final decision in the morning, but as he found out at three am, sleep was doing it’s very best to evade him completely.    

“Something on your mind, Soldier?” Katie murmured sleepily as he turned over in bed for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. With a sigh he reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to wake you.” he said. “I just can’t get what Fury said outta my head.” “And even after I tried my best to make you forget as well.” she quipped and he smiled, leaning over to give her a soft kiss. She gave a soft hmmm of contentment before he pulled away and propped himself up on his elbow

"What do you think we should do?”

“Well, we could ignore it, keep laying low.” she elaborated, with a small yawn “But I know you. And whilst you’ve managed it for a year it hasn’t been easy, and don’t try and pretend you’ve been okay because I know you Steven.” He gave a small snort and looked at her as she continued “And now you know that there’s still stuff to mop up, you’re gonna find it even harder to walk away.”

"I would for you. You know that.”

“But is that what you really want?” she sighed. “Not particularly, no.” he answered honestly. “I want to help but, well, I’m no longer Captain America.”

"Meh, he was an asshole anyway.” she grinned and he gave a snort. “But you ARE Steve Rogers, the, and I quote your best friend here ‘dumbass little blonde punk that couldn’t run away from a fight.” Steve felt himself smile at Bucky’s words. “Long before the serum and the shield, you were standing up for the little guys, for what you thought was right. Okay, you were getting your ass kicked doing it, but still.”

She shrugged and Steve looked down at the silhouette of her face, and he knew she was right. He brought his hand up and with the back of his fingers gently brushed down her right cheek. 

“And you’d be okay with it?” he asked.

“Well, neither of us left the Avengers because we wanted to. So until this blows over…” “If it blows over.” “Steven.” she spoke sternly, and he could tell by the tone of her voice she was glaring at him, even if he couldn’t see her face fully. She was still clinging to some hope that the entire situation would go away, whereas Steve was much more a realist about it all.  “Until this blows over, then, maybe we could, or should keep fighting the good fight. Because that’s what we do best.”

“A band of vigilantes, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Or if we’re getting paid are we mercenaries?”

“Pretty sure mercenaries don’t have ethics behind what they’re doing.” Katie snorted “No, we’ll be, erm, the ‘Nomad Law Enforcers’, NLE for short” she shrugged and he let out a laugh.

As his chuckles died down she gently reached up to stroke his face, his bearded cheek leaning into her touch.

“So, does that mean my new code name is Captain Badass?” He asked, his hand straying down to brush across her bare stomach. “No” She smiled, twitching at the touch “That’s a name only I get to say. Along with Stevie.” “Hate to break it to you, Darlin’ but Buck was calling me Stevie way before you were a twinkle in your pa’s eyes.” he said, his fingers now trailing the inside of her thigh. “Maybe so,” she snaked her arms round his neck and pulling his face down to hers, “but did he ever say it to you like I do, you know, in your ear as I’m about to c-”

“Err no.” he grinned, kissing her on the lips “That one’s all yours, doll.”

“Think you should make me say it now.” she quipped.

“As you wish, ma’am.” he smirked, rolling over on top of her, making her giggle before he cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a fevered kiss.

The next morning around breakfast they informed the rest of the team what their decision was. Natasha shrugged and said she was in already anyway. Wanda agreed as she had nothing else to do but in the same breath Katie could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea, so Steve told her that she could dip in and out and didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t happy about. When the only decision left was Sam’s, the man leaned back in his chair with a smirk and nodded. And whilst Steve thought the name Katie had come up with last night for their band of rag-tag heroes was ridiculous, it was ten times better than the offering Sam made.

“The Avengers Secret Society. ASS.” He grinned, draining his coffee mug. “Hell, I’m in. Where do I sign?”

******

Running the missions meant a lot of stealth and covert work, which in turn meant they had to leave the safe house they had called home for over a year for long periods, often months at a time. During those weeks they stayed either in motels or other safe houses which Fury or Natasha had access to in various places across the world as they intercepted various arms trades and took down both buyers and dealers alike. The rest of 2017 past them by in a blur now they were busy. Wanda dipped in and out, choosing sometimes to remain in the safe-house and others she would disappear to meet Vision but always kept them up to date on where she was so they could keep tracks on her. Katie was glad she was getting out and seeing the world, even if she did worry about her from time to time.

As far as lifestyles went, it was tough, hard going, but Katie could see Steve’s sparkle and drive was back in abundance. For the most the missions went without a hitch. Yes, they took knocks, broken noses, cut lips, bust ribs…but it came with the territory, and they all felt good to be back feeling like they were making a difference even if they were doing it unofficially from the shadows. And given that they were indeed vigilantes, they all removed any Avengers symbols from their suits to avoid Tony or the guys back at the compound being dragged into any further political row.

Katie and Natasha ditched their Avenger cat suits entirely, opting for leather cargo pants, jackets and combat vests whilst Sam acquired a new upper body suit for his now battered but sill functional wings. Steve had ripped the star on his uniform from his chest, which was down to a combination of wanting to stay off radar but also because of the fact that he simply wasn’t Captain America anymore, and therefore wasn’t comfortable bearing his insignia. It just didn’t feel right to be operating wearing the symbols once used when they were part of their old team. They were a painful reminder of just what it was that had brought them to this moment, how much they had lost and given up because they were not the Avengers anymore. And this also reflected in the way they operated. They were a lot less sympathetic with their fighting style and they did what they needed to do to get the job done, no more, no less- “Whatever it takes…” as Steve put it. And whilst the Captain still did his best to keep the casualties and fatalities to the minimum, that went completely out of the window one February morning in Jordan. 

They were tracking a suspected group of ex- Hydra stragglers that were, according to Fury’s intelligence, operating a lab with the aim of using a piece of SHIELD technology to manufacture weapons. They’d staked the place out over the last three days or so, and from what they could gather it was a pretty amateur operation all in all, so they didn’t meet much resistance when they stormed the place. Sam and Natasha took one side of the building, Steve and Katie the other. It didn’t take them long to clear out and restrain the hostiles and they set about sweeping the place for any devices they needed to recover before Natasha made her way down to the lab to lay the bombs that would destroy it once everyone was clear.

Steve and Katie made their way down a smaller corridor of the back of the main room whilst Sam and Natasha started to pack up the items they had come for and they reached a fork at the end. Katie went left, Steve went right. He hit a dead end pretty quickly, there only being one more room and that was completely empty. Katie, however had three rooms to look in. The first two were empty, and the third one led off to another smaller room at the back. Scanning round, she assumed the room was clear and headed through into the smaller one, kicking the door open. There was nothing in there bar filing cabinets. Seeing as she was there, she started to pull them open to see if there was anything useful, but it was all older paper work, nothing of interest. Slamming the drawer shut she heard a noise behind her, the cock of a gun and then a voice which made her freeze.

“Back for more you little SHIELD slut?”

That voice took her right back to that painfully bright cell with the hard bed, and the even harder floor.

“You like that don’t you, yeah?” His face was contorted as he grunted whilst he pounded painfully, mercilessly into her over and over again, her wrists painfully held above her head, his weight pressing onto her battered and bruised body which he had played a major part in beating before having joined in the kicking and stamping with glee. “God, she’s so fuckin’ tight…”

She spun round to look at the man who had violated her numerous times, his face exactly the same, wearing the same predatory sneer. Her fists clenched at her side as she weighed up her options, she could probably take him now, even with the gun.

But she hesitated too long.

Her rapist smirked as he raised the gun, keeping it trained on her as he took half a step forward and automatically she moved backwards, her body pressing against the metal of the filing cabinet.

“What? Still no scream?” He chuckled. “You know, we used to have a competition, see which one of us would be the one that made you finally break. But, I gotta hand it to you, you never made a sound. Frankly, it kind of became a bit boring. I’ve had better lays from my palm.” It was then that Katie noticed a movement behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Steve stood in the doorway with a look on his face that Katie had never seen before. Unadulterated anger, rage and fury radiated from every single bit of his body as he stared at the back of the man’s head, his lips curling up into an ugly sneer, a flash of white teeth glinting in the dim white from beneath his beard. “Whatever happens tomorrow you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.”

Steve remembered those words like Dr Erskine had spoken them just yesterday. And for the most part he had lived by them, trying every day to be a man that people could look up to. Years of loss and grief and fighting had made it hard but he had never killed in cold blood and, if possible he always went for the non-fatal take downs. But now, as he heard the words the man in front of him said to his wife as she stood, pressed against the cabinet at the far wall, her chest heaving, eyes wide with a hatred so fierce but yet an unmistakable glimmer of fear underneath it all, he knew exactly who this guy was.

This was one of the animals that had violated her. 

And he wanted to kill the fucker.

At the sight of her husband Katie instantly relaxed, she was safe. There was nothing the bastard in front of her could do to her, not whilst Steve was there. The man saw her change in posture, and frowned as she looked back at him and smirked slightly.

“You want a fight, it’s your lucky day, although I don’t fancy your chances much.” 

She nodded behind her and the man wheeled round fast but he didn’t’ even get chance to point his gun at Steve before the Super Soldier’s fist connected hard with his face, knocking out his front teeth. He staggered backwards and Katie was waiting with a well- aimed leg swipe which sent him crashing to the floor. As he went to push himself up Steve brought his large, boot clad foot down and stomped with all his might on his left hand.

”They broke my fingers and took my rings…” Katie’s voice echoed around his mind as he stamped again, and again before he picked the HYDRA agent up by the collar and smashed his head straight onto the desk.

The man lay groaning in pain on the floor, spitting out blood as he pitifully begged for mercy and Steve allowed him to crawl a few feet away before he kicked him hard in the ribs, stalking him, toying with him, as a cat does with its prey. But like all cats, eventually Steve got bored and hauled him back up again. He spun the snivelling piece of shit round so his back was clamped to his chest, one large forearm over the guy’s throat, palm of the other hand clamped his forehead, pinning him in place and forcing him to look at Katie for no reason other than the fact he wanted her face to be the last thing the bastard’s shitty, Hydra supporting eyes ever looked at.

All the anger Steve felt at how they had abused his wife, his beautiful girl, speared red hot inside him as he remembered the state she’d been in when they’d picked her up. How long it had taken her to heal physically. And all those nights he had held her close after she woke from a nightmare. He’d sworn to himself he would die before he let anyone hurt her again. 

“She told me you did to her.” Steve’s voice was steely, as he spoke into the man’s ear. “You abused her, tortured her, beat her and laughed about it. But now who’s laughing? Look how alive she is, how beautiful and strong she is. How she survived, which is more than you’re gonna do.”

At those words the man, who was groaning to himself began to struggle again, begging for his life. Steve merely tightened his grip.

“I want you to know that you dying is simply because of what you did to my wife. So fuck HYDRA and fuck you.” He snarled, and with a quick, savage twist of his arms, Katie heard the snap and the man grew limp, his neck broken in one, easy movement.

Steve tossed the dead man unceremoniously to the floor, his chest heaving as he looked down at the body on the floor. He’d just killed someone in cold blood. And he didn’t care one single bit.

Katie watched her husband as he looked down at the dead man, utter disgust on his face and she felt a ridiculous surge of affection for her soldier. She knew he’d grappled with the fact he had, in his opinion, failed to keep her safe and, no matter how many times she told him he was ridiculous, she would never convince him otherwise. He’d just abandoned all moral code he had, killing someone out of no reason but the desire for revenge because he loved her. 

He loved her enough to kill someone that had hurt her. As she watched, Steve raised his head to look at her. "You okay?” He asked, his voice full of concern, not a shred of the anger or hatred it had been filled with before was left. She nodded.

“Come on.”  He held out his hand. She stepped over the body on the floor, laced her fingers into his, but they hadn’t even reached the door of the outer room they’d walked through when she pulled on his arm and as he turned to face her, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, furiously kissing him, teeth clashing, beard scratching-fuck she loved the feel of that- as she emptied every single emotion she was feeling into his mouth. She pulled away and rest her head against his, desire flooding her system, some dark inner part of her had awoken at his merciless persona and he spotted it, a curious tilt of his head to the side told her so much. “Steve, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m filing for divorce.” He arched an eyebrow “Divorces are messy, we can’t have that.” and the words were barely out of his mouth before he had spun her round, slamming her against the wall, kissing her hard again, groaning as she grasped his growing erection through his combat trousers.

“Right here?” He growled and she nodded eagerly, already fumbling with his utility belt. The clanging of buckles, zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric filled the air as they both shed the minimum amount of clothing they needed to so that Katie could wrap her legs around Steve’s waist as he lifted her up by the back of her thighs, pressing her against the wall whilst he continued to kiss her neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to. He didn’t waste any time before he thrust up into her hard, making her cry out.

It was almost depraved, them fucking with a dead body in the room next to them, but neither of them cared, they were too caught up in a whirlwind of lust and emotions that enveloped them completely. Steve’s hips snapped back and forth with a pace and a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of her again and again. Her palms were scrabbling at the wall behind her trying to gain some traction and Steve quickly pushed further against her to give her more support so she could move her hands round his shoulders, where she clawed desperately at the material of his uniform as her head fell forward and her teeth nipped at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Her hands moved into his long hair, where she pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up her and the pupils of her eyes were blown wide with a desire he would never tire of seeing.  She pushed her hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and she let out an almost primal cry he had never, in their almost five years of being together, heard her make before. It simply revved him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck, Stevie,” she moaned, her head rolling back against the wall as her hands clamped onto his shoulders as she started to feel that snake in her belly moving. He felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him and he continued his voracious pace until she cried out, a loud scream before she dropped her head to his shoulder, as she moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through her orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Katie! I’m…fuck!” his words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate and he came with such a force that he felt his knees buckling underneath him and even his super strength wasn’t enough to keep him upright, the absolute gratification he felt was just too much. He caught her as the pair of them collapsed to the dirty concrete floor, her on top of him, a tangle of clothing and limbs, chests heaving, sweat on both their brows as he held her to him, panting and shaking. Neither of them had any idea how long they stayed like that, but eventually Steve managed to gain enough control to sit them both upright, his wife on his lap has he gently brushed the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face back, and looked at her, his lips gently greeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before. She smiled at him, unadulterated love in her eyes as she moved her hands to brush his hair back before she leaned down and kissed him again, before her nose slide against his.

“I adore you.” She whispered softly, and he pulled her to him, nuzzling into her neck as he sighed.

“Feeling is mutual, Doll” He murmured, causing her to chuckle before they heard a noise in both their ears.

“Yeah, erm, you do realise your coms were on. That whole time.” Sam’s tone was laced with dismay.  “Erm yep, so we errr, we heard everything.”

Steve felt himself grow cold and he let out a soft groan of utter embarrassment into Katie’s neck

“Most excitement Sammy’s had in years.” Natasha quipped

Katie on the other hand, instead of shrinking with humiliation, threw back her head and laughed, and when Steve looked up at her, unsure exactly what she found so funny about it all, he saw her just fucked pink flush, her eyes which were practically crinkled shut in mirth, her perfect teeth surrounding by those plump lips he could kiss all day, and that freckle spattered nose which was wrinkled as she continued to howl with amusement.

And right then he didn’t care what Sam and Natasha had heard, because frankly, seeing her like that was worth whatever digs and snarky comments that were going to get their way. 

******

April 2018

“Huh…” Nat mused as they entered the dilapidated house, her and Katie pulling off their hoods and masks “Guess my old KGB contacts can pull through in a pinch.”

“We should move fast.” Steve looked at the door to the small, market stall lined street outside “Won’t take long for them to notice something is wrong.”

“I’ll keep watch.” Katie nodded, peering out through the crack in the door into the dusty, desert air as Natasha examined the gun she was holding.

“Definitely Chitauri. Although they’ve been heavily modified.”

Natasha effortlessly deactivated the weapons and they worked quickly and efficiently packing them into the crates ready to take them to the outskirts of the city to the drop point.

“You reckon we’ve earned a break after these ones?” Sam asked, as they began to load the heavy crates onto the back of the truck. Steve smiled as he looked at Sam. They’d been on back to back missions pretty much since New Year so far, the latest of which had brought Steve back to a very familiar market place in Yemen, one he had swore he would never come back to after the last time he’d run an op here. It was hot, dusty, and he had to admit to himself (because he would never admit it to anyone else) he was ready for a break.

“Yeah I think Wanda had the right idea.” Katie mumbled. She wasn’t feeling all that great if truth be told. She’d woken up a few days ago with a dodgy stomach after what she suspected was bad chicken, and it was taking her a while to shake it off. 

They made the drop and headed back to the jet where Katie grabbed another bottle of water and sank into one of the chairs, almost draining it in one. After a few breaths, the queasiness she had been feeling all the drive back to the jet dissipated somewhat and she lay her head back, closing her eyes.

Steve passed his wife, his hand gently running over her hair as she leaned back to take a nap. He knew she wasn’t feeling great but she’d assured him it was nothing serious. Steve was pleased to note that she looked better than she had done a few days ago, there was more colour in her cheeks, so hopefully she was over the worst of it.

Sam got them airborne and set the coordinates for the Safe House, and Steve found himself looking forward to getting back after almost five weeks away. The jet was pretty much silent for a few hours, Steve at one point switching out with Sam to allow him to get some rest too. That last mission had been a hard one, but worth it.

“Have either of you heard from Wanda?” Natasha asked a little while later, as she looked up from the tablet she was poking about on.

Steve shook his head as did Sam. Natasha let out a growl. “She’s deactivated the tracker on her phone. I warned her about that last time.”  

“She isn’t a prisoner Nat.” Steve raised his eyebrows, looking over at Katie who was still sleeping.  “She knows the risks. She’s been doing it on and off for the last two years.”

“I get that, but we don’t know where she is.”

“Look, we should be back at the safe house in what, an hour or so? Let’s wait and see if she’s there.” Steve suggested. “If we don’t hear from her by the morning, then we’ll worry.”

Nat opened her mouth to argue back but Steve shot her his infamous captain glare, signalling the debate was over. She shrugged.

“On your head be it.” She said, nonchalantly before completely changing the subject. “Fury’s patched through a new target- another Terrorist Sect grouping for an attack he suspects.”

“Where is it this time?” Sam called from the cockpit.

“Columbia” Natasha answered.

“Alright,” Steve nodded. “We’ll take a proper look at it once we’re back at the Safe House”

At that point. Katie gave a soft murmur as she stretched out her limbs, opening one eye blearily, then the other. She blinked and Steve stood up, heading over to her.

“Hey, sleepy.” He smiled, dropping a soft kiss to her temple as he crouched down in front of her. “You sure you’re okay?”

Katie at her husband, his handsome face sported a few more lines than it had done this time two years ago, and the spectacular beard he had sported hid his jawline, but his eyes never changed, and here they were so full of concern and love over something so minor as an upset stomach that it almost made her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled. “I feel much better now.” Which she did. The funny feeling in her stomach and fuzziness in her head was well gone.

Before Steve could say anything else, Sam called his name and he glanced round as he straightened up and looked at the screen on the cockpit.

“Cap, I’m getting a report, some kind of ship”

“Where?” Steve asked as the pair of us turned to face him.

“Seems to be over the mainland UK of all places.” Sam frowned “It’s not much, but it’s big for sure. We’re not far out, fancy a slight detour on the way home, see what it is?”

Before he could answer, Nat strode to the middle of the jet, tablet in her hand.

“You need to see this.”

She swiped at the screen and the footage she was referring to appeared on the hologram display. Katie watched a familiar red and gold figure speeding through the air over the familiar back drop of down-town New York, tangling with, well, she wasn’t sure what the hell they were.

“Oh my God.” she muttered, as she read the tag line playing across the bottom of the news report- New York attacked.

The four of them paused as more footage showed the kid known as Spider-Man swinging through the air, and two other men, one with a long, crimson cloak, all facing off against two foes.  

“When did this happen?” Steve asked eventually, looking at Nat

“15 minutes or so ago.”

Steve didn’t say anything, instead he moved to the locker at the back of the jet, and taking a deep breath, he pulled out his half of the pair of burner phones he had gotten from T’Challa almost two years ago. Stark’s technology still, after all these years, amazed him. An amplified booster on all the jets he owned made it possible to for a mobile phone to continue working whilst in the air. He glanced up at Katie, before flipping open the phone and then all four of them stopped dead as it began to ring before Steve had the chance to even dial. 

“Stark?” His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he asked the question, even though there was no one else with that number…

“Steve, hi, it’s Bruce. It’s err, been a while.”

Steve paused his eyes widening at the surprise at hearing his onetime team mate. “Yeah, yeah it has,” was all he could say. “Listen, there’s not a lot of time to explain but something big, someone big to be exact, is coming, and they’re after Vision.” “Vision?” Steve paused, standing still where he had been pacing unknowingly.

“For the Stone.” Bruce continued. “He’s turned off his transponder so we can’t track him, but Tony…” Bruce took a deep voice and Steve glanced up at Katie who was watching him intently. “Tony went after the ship, Cap, he’s on the ship, heading out to space, but before it all started he was about to call you. He said that you might be able to find Vision. And we need to, we need to before they do. You got any idea where he is?”

Steve listened to Bruce’s rambles, a million and one questions were whirring round his head, but there was no time for that. If this was as big an issue as he said, they had to find Vision. And right now, he would hazard a guess that he was wherever that huge ship over the UK was.

“I don’t know for sure, but I have a pretty good idea.” He sighed.

“You need to get him before they do Steve, and I mean it. This is the biggest threat we’ve ever faced. This guy, well even Thor couldn’t stop him.”

Now that really did worry him, but again there was time to think about that later. “Leave it with us.” he said gently, before he closed the phone and stuck it into his pocket.

“What is it?” Katie asked, “Was that Tony?”

Ignoring her, Steve strode to the front of the jet and spoke to Sam. “That reading. Can you get a lock on it?”

“Piece of cake”

“Get us there, fast.” Steve instructed. Sam nodded to show he had understood.

Steve looked back at Natasha and Katie as his wife crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation, not impressed with being ignored.

“Whatever is on that Ship, chances are they’re looking for Vision.” Steve said simply “They want the stone in his head.”

“Wanda…” Nat muttered gently, as she hurried to the front of the jet.

Katie’s eyes however went back on the footage of the spinning space ship above the city they once called home.

“Steve.” She said eventually “Tell me please, how was he?”

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t Tony.” Steve replied, his voice low as he looked up at the cockpit. Natasha and Sam were busy flicking switches. “It was Banner”

“Banner?” she frowned “But what? I mean how?” “I don’t know but he said that Tony had go-…”

“We got it, Cap.” Sam interrupted. “Just over Edinburgh, I’ve locked in the route, we should be wheels down in ten.”

Steve nodded and then turned back to Katie as she carried on speaking.

“What about Tony?” she pressed.

Steve opened his mouth to answer but he stopped, his eyes falling onto the footage, still playing on the hollovision. Katie followed his gaze, the next line across the bottom answered her question.

Billionaire Tony Stark missing.

Katie couldn’t find any words to say. Instead she felt her breathing deepen and she swallowed thickly staring at the footage. Missing? Like, kidnapped? Missing in Action, missing presumed dead…a thousand and one thoughts  began running through her head, all of them coming back to the last time they had seen one another, the harsh exchange of words and him telling her he was ashamed of her before she left him in that cold bunker in Siberia.

Steve’s hand dropped onto his wife’s shoulder as he noticed her lip was beginning to wobble. 

“We get Vision and then we work on finding him.” He assured her gently, looking at Katie who looked up at him.

“We best hope we find him.” She swallowed again before she looked down at her hands. “Because if worst comes to worst and the last time we spoke to each other was when we parted on such bad terms, I’ll never forgive myself Steve.”

**** O/S: Vanilla

Chapter 36 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[wrenhyperfixates]

Birthday Wish

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s your birthday and all you want to do is spend a quiet day with Loki. Unfortunately, he’s decided to plan you a crazy party. Can you get your wish by the end of the night? Warnings: none A/N: It’s my birthday today (10/6), so I whipped up this quick little fic 🥳 I’ve been reflecting on everything like I usually do at this time of the year, and I just wanted to take a quick minute and say thank you to all the people who support me and read my stories. All the love I’ve been getting from you guys has made these past few months some of the best in my life! Please enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​ @lunarmoon8​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The blaring of your alarm clock woke you up for the third time that morning. You rolled over and hit the stop button this time, rather than the snooze, determined to get up. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you decided that you really ought to start going to bed at a reasonable hour. As your vision focused, you noticed a small box wrapped in white paper with multicolored happy birthday text printed on it. The neat green bow on top clued you in to who had left it before you even read the gift tag. You tore into the wrapping paper and opened the golden box inside, expecting a bracelet or some other piece of jewelry. Instead, you were greeted with a silver key.

“What are you up to, Loki,” you muttered, pinching the key between your thumb and forefinger.

Finding no clues on how to use your mysterious present, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. You eyed the shower for a minute, contemplating just splashing some water on yourself instead and calling it a day, before turning it on. You let the cold spray wake you up, turning your face towards the shower head. Once you felt alert enough, you changed the water to a more comfortable temperature. A part of you wanted to stay in here forever, or at least for the rest of the day, but that damned key had captured your interest. As you toweled off, you caught a whiff of your favorite shampoo, which you’d just lathered in your hair. Incidentally, it was Loki’s favorite too, and with any luck, he’d be smelling it later during some birthday snuggles.

After slipping on your coziest outfit, you walked out of your room and towards the kitchen. You could already smell the bacon sizzling and waffles being made. It caused an embarrassing grumble to sound from your stomach as you rounded the corner, but it was drowned out by your teammates shouting “happy birthday” in a boisterous cacophony.

“Happy Birthday, dove,” Loki whispered in your ear as he scooped you up in a hug, his godly strength making it easy to pick you up and spin you around.

“Thank you, Loki,” you giggled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

You received hugs from the rest of the Avengers as someone slid a plate piled high with breakfast foods in front of you. This time last year you’d still just been an intern at SHIELD. It hadn’t taken long for Tony to notice your skills and offer you a job at Stark Industries, a position you’ve been glad to have gotten more and more every day. Now here you were, who knows how many field missions later, a part of the team and surrounded by a beautiful chosen family. Not to mention a very caring, raven-haired boyfriend who treated you like royalty.

“This is perfect, guys. Thank you,” you said, beaming at the group.

“This is nothing,” Tony responded. “Wait until your party later.”

“A party, huh?” you parroted, stuffing a forkful of fruit in your mouth so no one could see your frown. “Just us, right?”

“Nope,” Tony informed. “A bunch of your old coworkers from SHIELD, all the people who work in the Tower, owners of businesses we outsource to, and probably some other groups I’m missing. Don’t look so down, it’ll be fun. And the best part is Loki planned it,” he finished with a wink at the god.

“Oh?” you questioned, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be great then.”

You changed the topic before someone could comment on how shocked and disingenuous you sounded. Not only did that not seem like something Loki would do, it also meant he didn’t know you as well as you thought he did. You didn’t want to be ungrateful, but large parties just weren’t really your thing. You much preferred a quiet day with your friends. But if your boyfriend planned it, you were sure you would enjoy it. Maybe it was like a reverse surprise party or something, and they told you it would be a crazy party when it would actually just be a fun little movie night. Loki always has a trick up his sleeve, you knew, and you were sure that whatever it was, you’d enjoy it.

Sadly, your certainty was gone as you pulled on your jeans that evening. Giving yourself a once-over in the mirror, you decided that you looked ready for a party, though on the inside you were anything but. A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and you went to open it, expecting Loki to be there to escort you. Instead, you were greeted with Wanda, Bucky, and Peter holding a plastic bag filled to the brim with neon props.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked your best friends, letting them into your room.

“Your accessories for the evening,” Wanda replied, placing a neon pink feather boa around your neck.

“You pick first!” Peter added, holding up two pairs of light-up shutter shades.

At least this part of your evening was fun. You’d been reduced to nothing but a laughing mess on the floor multiple times as you all figured out which accessories to wear. Finally, you ended up with the pink boa from Wanda, blue sunglasses Peter picked, a green fedora of your own choosing, and a bunch of glow stick bracelets that Bucky was amazed and obsessed with.

“We should probably get going,” you ventured, glancing at the clock. “Don’t want to be late.”

“Or we could just stay here,” Bucky offered. “I mean, do any of us really want to go?”

You all shifted your weight, seriously considering hiding in your room for the rest of the night. Deep down, you knew you would never actually do that, not after Loki put effort into planning it for you. Something about that still didn’t sit right with you, though.

“No. We should go.”

“Why? I mean, they invited so many random people that no one will notice if we’re not there.”

“Bucky,” Wanda hissed, throwing a pillow at his head. Sadly for her, his reflexes were too quick, and he caught it with a shrug of his shoulders. “People will notice if the guest of honor isn’t there.”

Before anyone could argue the point further, there was another knock, and this time it was Loki. He pecked your lips before taking in your goofy outfit.

“There you are, dove. I’ve been looking for you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry, we were just on our way,” you told him, noticing a few glow bracelets on his wrist. You added it to your mental list of odd things to happen on your birthday. “Come on, guys.”

“Actually, if you do not want-”

“There you are,” Tony greeted as he appeared around the corner. “You’re missing the party of the century.”

“You didn’t need to send a whole committee,” Wanda said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out into the hall. “See, we’re halfway there already.”

Everyone crammed into the elevator, looking rather glum. Except for Tony, that is. He was blowing on a noisemaker as soon as the door opened. Not that you could hear it very well over the pounding music of the DJ.

“Uh, great party Mr. Loki,” Peter shouted over the noise, flashing a thumbs up before exiting the elevator with Wanda and Bucky.

“Yes, thank you spiderling,” Loki distractedly said, putting an arm out to stop you from leaving, too. “Dove, I’ve been trying to tell you all day-”

He was cut off once again by Tony, who was now at the front of the room and pointing towards you. There was a round of applause as he announced you as the special guest, and you awkwardly waved, feeling unsure of yourself in front of so many people. You were not exactly a social butterfly, and Loki knew that. You still couldn’t figure out why he had thrown you this party. And then there was the matter of that key from this morning. You patted the front pocket of your jeans to ensure it was still there. It was, but you had no idea how to use it. Maybe that’s what Loki’s been trying to tell you.

About half an hour later, he pulled you away, clearly too impatient to wait any longer to get his words out. You hadn’t even finished making the rounds, but then again you barely knew half the people there, anyway. They probably wouldn’t miss you, in that case. After all, it was more Tony’s party than yours. And that’s when it hit you.

“You didn’t actually plan that, did you?” you asked Loki as the elevator doors closed behind you.

“Took you long enough to figure it out, dove,” Loki said with a smirk. “But you are correct. It was Stark, not me.”

“But why did he give you the credit then?”

“He thought I did not know Midgardian birthday customs well enough,” Loki answered as his nose scrunched up in distaste. “ I suppose he thought he was doing me a favor. The one thing he forgot, though, is that I know you quite well.”

You exited onto the floor of the library and your boyfriend pulled you off to some hidden nook, proudly gesturing to a small key hole in the wall. You pulled out his present and looked at him inquisitively. One eager nod from Loki later, you were turning the key and greeted by a small clicking sound. A hidden door slid open and revealed a cozy room complete with your favorite foods, a couch laden with pillows and blankets, and a fire crackling in an ornate hearth.

“Loki!” you gasped, “It’s perfect, my love.”

“Only the best for you, dove.”

Then he brought you over to the cushions and, after making sure you were comfortable, began to hand feed you your favorite sweets. Once he was done with that, you snuggled into his side as he stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your temple. It was what you’d been longing for since you got out bed that morning.

“Happy Birthday,” he said to you later that evening after reading your favorite poems in that deep, melodic baritone of his voice.

“Thank you. This truly is everything I’ve ever wished for.”

“That is too bad. I have one more gift to give you, but if you are perfectly happy right now, perhaps you do not want it.”

“No,” you said, eyes wide with interest. “Now I have to know. Can I please have it, Loki?”

“Your wish is my command.”

Then he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, filled with passion and love that words would never be able to truly express. You melted in to him and reciprocated with just as much feeling. Now this, you thought, is one hell of a birthday gift. I really do have everything.

[petersasteria]

The Forces of Nature || Ch.13

Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.”

SERIES MASTERLIST  ||  PP MASTERLIST

Peter angrily laid in bed as he thought about what happened earlier that day. It reminded him of the movie 'Dreamgirls'. He wasn't into films like that, but May wanted to watch it on tv and he had no choice. He ended up liking the movie musical and there was one scene there that totally paralleled what went down at the compound earlier. Although instead of just six people being there, all of the Avengers were there to watch which made Peter humiliated and angry.

What happened earlier, you ask? Well, it started as a normal day.

Peter arrived at the compound at around one o'clock in the afternoon which made him really late for training. When Peter got there, everyone was already busy training. The Avengers felt the young lad's presence and immediately stopped what they were doing. Peter was oblivious to this as he set his bag on the ground and stretched to get ready.

"Hey, spider dude!" Sam called out. Peter looked at him and Peter approached him. Everyone watched as Peter approached Sam. They didn't know why Peter was there. He wasn't supposed to be there.

"What're you doing here?" Sam asked with his arms crossed.

Peter looked confused, "What? What do you mean? It's training day, that's why I'm here."

Sam looked at everyone before he looked at Peter. The spiderling was waiting for an answer while Sam was trying to think of how he was going to respond. After all, how do you tell a kid that he was temporarily banned from the compound? Besides, Tony was supposed to tell Peter. Sam figured that Tony forgot to tell Peter about it. Hence, the confusion on Peter's face.

"Look, Queens, we're so sorry." Steve filled in. "It was for your own good."

"What are you talking about?" Peter was beyond confused now. "What was for my own good?"

"Tony was supposed to tell you." Natasha said.

"Tell me what?" Peter asked.

After he asked that, Tony entered the training room and was surprised to see Peter there. Tony looked at the Avengers who were waiting for him to explain as to why Peter was present. Peter wasn't supposed to be there. Tony looked at Peter and cleared his throat.

"Kid, there you are! I've been trying to get a hold of you." Tony said and approached the young man. "Listen, there's no easy way to say this, but you're temporarily banned here."

"WHAT?"

"One to two weeks tops. So, grab your things and go. You're not needed here until after your temporary ban." Tony gave Peter a tight lipped smile and a pat on the shoulder.

"Geez, I was only a little late and now you're temporarily banning me? The least you could've done was warn me, but that would've been too kind." Peter said. He was getting annoyed.

"Me and the rest have been waiting for you to clean up your act. Like, what's gotten into you lately? You're always late, always mean, and you always have some snarky reply. It's so unlike you!" Tony explained.

"Just because my attitude changed a bit, doesn't mean that I completely changed. I'm still me!" Peter argued. "I'm just not feeling good, that's all."

"Kid, please. We're so done with your excuses. Just accept your faults already! Accept that you've been late, mean, and rude." Tony crossed his arms.

Peter scoffed, "You're mad because I'm not perfect like Y/N? Let's not forget that she wouldn't be here without me! You're praising her all the time as if she's better than everyone here. NEWSFLASH: she's not better than anyone here. She's just common."

The Avengers' jaws dropped and some even whistled because of what Peter said. That comment struck a nerve in Y/N. She was usually so calm and collected, but that crossed the line. She's never been angry before, but hey, there's a first time for everything.

"Who're you calling 'common', you self-centered, arrogant, unprofessional?"  Y/N stepped in front to directly talk to Peter in front of everyone. The Avengers were watching their two youngest members; none of them made an effort to leave the room. After all, if shit got interesting, would you leave?

"You." Peter said with smugly. "I'm calling you common."

"Listen to me, Mr. Everyone-Is-At-Fault-But-Me, I've had enough of your fucking attitude. I've put up with you for too long and I'm sick of it! I've put up with your bitching, your nagging, your screaming, your complaining, your everything!" Y/N spat.

"Now, now. When are both of you going to stop fighting?" Wanda interrupted.

"With all due respect, please stay out of this, Wanda. This is between Y/N and me. She clearly has a lot of shit to say about me and I'm fucking ready to hear it." Peter said bitterly.

"Yeah? Well, this is between me too. I'm as much a part of this team as anybody else and Peter, I'm tired of everything that you're doing to the team! You've only been causing trouble lately and it's not doing us any good." Wanda ranted.

"You know what? You're right. This is also between you." Peter nodded. "You know why? Because I knew from the start that you and Y/N were ganging up on me together!"

"What?!" Wanda shrieked.

"Oh, wow. Not only is he self-centered, arrogant, and unprofessional. He's also delusional and a story maker! Well done, Pete!" Y/N rolled her eyes and clapped for effect. "And just so you know, Wanda had nothing to do with this- this change! It was you! You're responsible for this because you're so selfish!"

"I knew this was going to happen." Tony spoke up. "I felt something off with Peter when I first gave him the assignment and you know what? I should've given it to someone else instead."

"What?" Peter said.

"But you know what? Let's face it; whether Peter or someone else recruited Y/N, Peter would've reacted the same way." Tony shrugged.

"I have every right to react the way I'm reacting right now." Peter defended.

"I didn't ask you to recruit Y/N only to make her feel like shit when training came along. That's not her purpose here, Peter. She's just like you when you first started. If you're so worried about her taking your job, then I'll give you another one!" Tony raised his voice.

"You know, whatever her powers are, she can't replace Spider-Man." Peter sassed. "Keep that in mind, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, kid, cut it out. Just take your bag and go home; cool down for a few weeks." Natasha said as she approached Peter.

"You're in this too?" Peter asked.

"Cool down, Parker. You knew what you were doing the moment you started treating Y/N like shit, so don't go around acting clueless." Natasha said sternly.

"Oh, wow. You're in this too. And I thought you were really nice." Peter shook his head.

"I said cool down! You've gone too far, Peter. You have to pay the consequences." Natasha sighed and crossed her arms.

Scott cleared his throat, "Um, I don't want to be involved in this drama, but can I just say something? I think this is between all of you."

"What?" Tony asked.

"Yeah." Scott shrugged. "I mean, if you knew that Peter would react this way why didn't you just give the task to someone else? And Y/N, if you've been experiencing bad shit with Peter, why didn't you confront him or tell any of us? Peter, why do you hate Y/N so much? Wanda, why didn't you tell Peter what you thought about him?"

"See? It's all coming together, don't you think? It's between all of you aaaand I have absolutely nothing to do with it." Scott finished.

"And for that, it's between you too now, Scott." Peter said. "How'd you even become part of this team to begin with?"

Scott's face changed into a stern one and said, "Watch your mouth, Peter Parker. I don't take that tone and attitude from no second-rate diva who can't accept his faults."

"I'm not feeling too good, alright? I've got pain!" Peter exclaimed. 'Emotional pain.' He thought.

"Dude, we've all got pain." Bucky shook his head.

"I've stuck with you guys for years and this is how you treat me?! We were like family here and now you're banning me for two weeks all because I failed to be on time and all that shit?!" Peter shrieked.

"Pretty much, yeah." Clint said.

"Wow. And to think that I treated you all as family." Peter shook his head and walked away to grab his bag and left.

When Peter got home, he immediately tried to cool down. He didn't want to snap at May, so he cooled down by binge eating unhealthy snacks and by binge watching his favorite shows.

Just as Peter was about to drift off to sleep, he got a text from Tony. He read the message and chose not to reply. Instead, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag​ @harryismysunflower​ @buckys-little-hoe​ @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay​ @slytherin-chaser​ @quaksonhehe​ @yaya4302​ @lil-mellow-bunbun​ @starlight-starks​ @swiftmind​​ @alexx-stancati​​ @sovereignparker​​ @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​​ @pearce14​​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​​ @cherthegoddess​​ @chewymoustachio​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​ @parkerlovebot​​ @supred12​ 

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​ @rubberducky-jrr​ @allyz​ @osterfieldnholland​ @miraclesoflove​ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @drie-the-derp​ @hollands-weasley​ @itstaskeen​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @the-panwitch​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @geminiparkers​ @holland-styles​ @halfblood-princess-505​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual​​ @justanothermarvelmaniac​​ @unsaidholland​​ @musicalkeys​​ @lost-in-the-stars03​​ @hufflepuffprincess24​​ @hollanddolanfangirl​​ @parkerpeter24​​ @bellelittleoff​ @agentnataliahofferson​ @aqiise​

[warrocketpodcast]

Is the "professor x just made a bunch of child soldiers" argument as tired as the "If Batman donated all the money it took to become Batman he'd do more good" line?

.No, but I think there’s an interesting reason why it’s not, and it has a lot to do with textual intent. 

In Batman comics, Batman IS the solution to the problems with Gotham City, which we know because WE ARE READING BATMAN COMICS AND THAT IS THE PREMISE, AND IF YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND FICTION. Billionaires in the real world? Terrible, inherently immoral. Billionaires in the fictional universe that has shit like Green Lantern rings and x-ray eyes? Literally the only thing keeping a crocodile man from eating your face. Bruce Wayne is a philanthropist on the side, but, as I’ve written before, writing a check to the local school district or offering comprehensive health insurance to employees of Wayne Industries does not solve the problem of A Murder Clown Is Poisoning The Water Supply Right Now. I do not understand why people claim they want to see fucking Batman meet with his accountant and figure out if construction of the Thomas and Martha Wayne Memorial Humanities Building at Hudson University is a good tax write-off for 20 God damned pages every week, which I assure you they do not actually want, but that’s not the point, really. The point is disingenuous refusal to engage with the text. The actual text of Batman comics is that Batman is a good idea.

The actual text of X-Men comics is that Professor X gathered teenagers and, in the guise of a school, turned them into a secretive paramilitary strike force that went on missions where they were sometimes killed. The argument is whether that’s the best way to go about things, which is an argument that people have within those comics. The text tends to come down on the side that he was right to do so because the alternative is getting murdered by giant purple robots made of racism, but there’s still an exploration. It’s why Cyclops is an interesting character, because he’s The Most X-Man — the guy who found out at 15 that he had to learn how to be really good at aiming the uncontrollable laser beams concussive force blasts that shoot out of his eyes because the alternative was that he and everyone he cared about was going to die. Like, that’s something that’s gonna fuck you up pretty bad, but according to the past 50 years of X-Men comics, it’s also 100% true. 

With Batman, the question is not “why doesn’t Batman provide real solutions to to the real-world root causes of crime” — because that’s an astoundingly stupid question to ask — it’s “how is Batman going to solve the problems that are presented to him in this fictional universe that is uniquely built around him?” 

With the X-Men, the question is usually “how are the X-Men going to survive this experience?” The idea of questioning whether Professor X was wrong all this time is a core component of that. 

The former is refusing to engage with the premise. The latter is asking the questions the premise invites. If you don’t like the premise, you don’t have to engage with the media. There’s a lot of stuff out there and if you don’t like Batman because that idea doesn’t make sense to you, I’m not going to hold it against you. I will, however, hold it against you if you try to break the premise to make it worse. 

Here’s a huge tangent where I just know I’m gonna get lost in the woods: 

I actually feel a similar way to opinions I’ve seen about the MCU, and how it’s built around a very militaristic idea of superheroes, which makes some people uncomfortable. And, you know, that’s fair! Those movies are built around that idea, because they were built on the foundation of a movie that was the absolute embodiment of transitioning from traditional action movies (ie, stories about loose cannon cops, spies, space marines, Kurt Thomas, and other heroes who usually have the backing of a larger organization) and superhero stories (which are almost always about heroes acting independently of, and occasionally in opposition to, those same larger forces). Those movies never really get away from the idea that Tony Stark, the guy who sets the tone for the entire roster of films to follow, is fundamentally a dude whose primary character trait and fatal flaw are that he always believes he can solve his problems by building a bigger gun. The militarized aspect of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers spins out of this as both a structural result of the action to superhero genre transition, and as a convenience to get Iron Man (former defense contractor), Captain America (literal soldier), Black Widow (spy), the Hulk (military scientist) and Hawkeye (for some reason a spy like in The Ultimates and not a redneck carny like he should’ve been). The odd man out is Thor, which, for all the problems with those first two Avengers movies, is why he first shows up as an antagonist in the first one and then completely bails on the whole thing to go deal with his own stuff on the second one. The military structure is literal plot structure.

So yeah, that gets kind of weird when it filters down to Spider-Man. A lot of that weirdness has to do with things that are beyond the control of the universe, in that Marvel’s most beloved character, the second big success the company ever had whose popularity has endured much stronger than the first one, the flagship superhero who was literally on their paychecks and has never not been popular, had to be a late addition to a universe that already had, like, the Vision in it. 

But because they had to work within those constraints, they had to work within the premise they were already given. It makes perfect sense that in that universe, Peter Parker would look up to the world’s most famous superhero nerd, and it makes sense that Iron Man would see Peter as this blank slate that he could stop from making the mistakes that had defined his life. That, to me, is a really interesting dynamic, but it’s also one that requires Spider-Man to take a lot of cues from Iron Man, which is not a dynamic that those two characters ever had in the source material. It winds up giving them different consequences.

And like, if that’s not your thing, I get it. Spider-Man being recruited by the superhero military and having a high-tech suit that talks to him is a jarring shift, even if they do a good job of bringing in most of the core tenets of the character — something about responsibility and... I wanna say... muscles? Is it muscles? — which I think they did. But, if you don’t like that setup, which is a product of the larger universe, then you don’t have to buy into the premise. Like, yeah, it sucks that you’re fundamentally not going to dig this Spider-Man movie, but how do you think I feel? I’m a Batman guy and I literally have to see these movies with their endless terrible premises for my job.

Back when Far From Home came out, I remember seeing someone talk about how the MCU Peter Parker was fundamentally flawed because he didn’t have Uncle Ben, and I don’t think that’s correct. For one thing, Spidey pretty clearly has an Uncle Ben in that movie, it’s just that the reference to him in Civil War is a little less explicit than it usually is, presumably because we’ve seen Uncle Ben die on screen like five times since 2002. Second, it actually makes it make more sense that he’d latch onto the next influential father figure who walked through his front door. Third, even if we got way more Uncle Ben in those movies, it wouldn’t change the fact that the Peter/Tony Stark relationship and the way it played out was a function of the larger universe and the way those two characters had to interact within it. I don’t want to generalize too much or claim to know what people are thinking better than they do, but I’d suspect that if you don’t like that stuff in Spider-Man, the thing you really don’t like is the larger structure of this take on the characters. And that’s fair! 

That’s not to say that a premise can’t be bad, or that a twist on a character that posits a new premise is always good by nature of including some of the stuff that works. Again, I’m a Batman guy, and the last three movies to feature Batman are bad partly because the premise is fundamentally broken (the other parts are literally everything else about those movies because they are irredeemably terrible on virtually every level). But, you know, none of them have Batman writing a check instead of fighting crime, so that’s something.

--Chris

[starkerkeyz]

Love Me Sweetly, Kiss Me Softly (2/?)

Chapter Title: The Dangerous Perks of Dating Peter Parker

Length:  5528 WC

Warnings:  TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF (for nooow), intersex omegas, naughty but innocent Peter?

Links:

AO3

Part 1

Summary:

"We can go anywhere you want," Peter says, wide-eyed and flushed.

“All I want is you.” Tony husks, his mouth parted so he can taste Peter’s arousal on the roof of his mouth, coating his tongue and throat like liquid sin. His upper lip curls and his tongue peeks out, wanting to lick the musky saline taste right out of the air. 

His tail stays pressed to Peter’s thigh and he wishes his hand could join it, too.

Keyz 💖:  The date is here! The date is here! Somehow they DON’T fuck in the bathroom or against a tree in the park? Mads and I have been replaced by pod people I swear. Tony is behaving.

Mads💗:  The first date! TBH, the date went a looot longer than I thought it would so it got split. I can't believe how infatuated… and silly… our boys are. You'll see what I mean 😂

💖💖💖

Tony allows himself to be led and enjoys pointedly squeezing Peter’s hand every now and then along the way. Every time he did, Peter’s little tail bobbed and twitched, and it was enchanting.

“Do you eat fast food a lot?” Tony asks curiously into the comfortable silence that's descended between them. 

Peter seems too slender for that sort of diet but then again, Tony fully plans on buying 10 combos and eating until he couldn’t anymore and he's pretty athletic himself, thanks. 

Truthfully, Tony doesn’t really care which way Peter answers; he doesn’t mind if Peter usually eats fast food or regularly eats home-cooked and this is a treat. What he cares about is learning Peter’s answer just so he’d know that much more about the bunny. 

Tony wants to learn as much as he can about Peter and he’s a little dismayed about how little he’s starting with. He has no idea if rabbits are social or solitary, mate for life or only a season. Hell, he didn’t know most bunnies prefer grains to carrots until he’d been searching the web for courting present ideas. 

Most of the initial search results were sex toys. 

Tony bookmarked the really interesting ones before filtering and narrowing it down to the Honey Bunny’s. Just in case. 

Peter's ear twitches at the question.

"Sometimes," he says reluctantly as he brings them down the street.

Tony tilts one ear towards Peter politely and the other monitors ahead and around them for threats. He catches sight of the ear twitch and inhales deeply, pride warm and soft in his chest. Peter’s omega scent and ear posturing calls to Tony’s alpha for protection without even trying. 

His ears being submissively down all the time (through no fault of his own but try explaining genetics to instinct) only add fuel to the fire growing between his ribs. It makes Tony’s wolf feel powerful and respected and feeds into the alpha urges to guard and protect. 

Peter doesn't want to admit that he doesn't really do the fast foods that a carnivore would frequent. He can eat meat– has eaten meat, but he doesn't enjoy the flavor or texture as much as his friends do.

Normally, he enjoys fresh salads and crisp veggies. It's… not really a bunny stereotype since it's true… But he doesn't want to admit that to Tony.

He doesn't want to limit what the wolf eats just because he has a preference for greens. Besides, Five Guys has fries. Fries are potatoes… so vegetable. He should be fine.

He glances at the wolf, cheeks flushing just the slightest pink. He also doesn't admit that he has a salad stashed away in the fridge in the employee area.

"I eat at home a lot," he decides to say. "But MJ said this was a good spot for wolves. Ned says their burgers are really good too."

“I love burgers! It’s probably in my top three food groups. You already know me so well.” Tony uses both ears to signal his happiness and magnify his praise. He wants to shout it out to the rooftops that Peter is the smartest bunny on the planet; utilizing his ears and tail to flag his interest and pride like an obnoxious gushing fanboy to anyone within sight will have to do, instead. 

Pleasure sparks inside him and Peter squeezes Tony's hand. He likes the idea of getting to know the wolf better. Burgers�� He'll remember that.

But doubt still makes him worry. Five Guys is a fast food place, after all. Tony's probably had way better...

Peter’s eyes may be a little wide and he's almost sure that if he had a long tail like a wolf's or even a cat's, it'd be slowly waving back and forth. He bites his bottom lip, peeking at the wolf.

"Is this place okay…?" He asks, hopeful. 

He really didn't have much time to find a really good spot to take the wolf. Everything had happened so fast… Not that he minds at all.

“I don’t mind Five Guys. I’ve had it before; your friends were right, they do have really good burgers. You made a good choice.” Tony bumps their shoulders together. He leans his weight against Peter as they walk and tucks his tail behind the bunny’s thigh, keeping him close.

The hairs at the back of Peter's neck stand at attention. The sensation makes his breath hitch and he almost looks behind him to check.

It could only be one thing and it's… weird. Weird because his own little fluffy ball of a tail isn't long enough to brush against his thighs. He's not used to the sensation and the soft brush of fur against his thighs excites him.

Maybe even more so because it's Tony.

Tony’s tail wags a few times, thumping and rubbing up against (and between) Peter’s legs before settling with only minor adjustments as they walk. He only briefly misses the feeling of another tail to twine with. 

He’d have to figure out another way to scent Peter’s tail.

Some quiet, yet persistent little voice at the back of his mind suggests taking Tony home. It doesn't even make sense cause the fridge at home is packed with veggies, but it still persists. Take him home and let the wolf make a meal out of him…

Peter's blush deepens at such elicit thoughts. His scent, too, deepens with it. Arousal and want, all these signals that try to lure the wolf into devouring him.

He shakes his head rather adamantly to clear the thoughts.

"We can go anywhere you want," Peter says, wide-eyed and flushed.

“All I want is you.” Tony husks, his mouth parted so he can taste Peter’s arousal on the roof of his mouth, coating his tongue and throat like liquid sin. His upper lip curls and his tongue peeks out, wanting to lick the musky saline taste right out of the air. 

His tail stays pressed to Peter’s thigh and he wishes his hand could join it, too.

The words echo in Peter's head, bouncing around and scrambling his already desire driven thoughts. Tony wants him…?

Peter just wants to press up right against the wolf, chest to chest. Maybe he's the one that's going to do the devouring with how hot he feels.

Would Peter even have the courage to do that to a wolf…? He peeks at the man, thoughts running wild but then–

“What I mean,” Tony blinks slowly. Wolf, alpha, and man all wanted to sink cock and fang into the heat Peter’s scent promises him. 

It's hard to think why that's a bad idea with Peter looking at him with the sweetest brown eyes Tony has ever seen. 

So eager to please. Giving himself up to Tony. Giving Tony power and control; over what he eats, over where they go. It's enough to cause a slam of arousal through his gut and into the rest of his body. 

“Is that all I want is your company. The food is secondary.” Tony squeezes Peter’s hand and tries to reign himself in. 

It’s incredibly difficult when a part of him is convinced that Peter wants to be thrown over the nearest bench and fucked in front of lunch hour traffic. 

Those glossy brown eyes, the submissively lowered ears, the eager flush crowning smiling cheeks, the heady scent of fertile young omega; it's like Peter's the perfect embodiment of everything that sets Tony off. 

He’d have to be strong enough to hold off. For Peter’s sake, if not his own. 

If Tony's earlier words had almost set Peter off, these new ones feel like a bucket of ice cold water being dropped on him.

Peter tears his eyes away, a bit mortified over his thoughts. He's two seconds away from just jumping Tony on their first date and the wolf is being so sweet and such a gentleman.

He has to take control of himself. He's not some… some bunny stereotype that's down to fuck at the drop of a hat. Not that there's anything wrong with that… Bunnies are pretty carefree about sex, but Peter's always been a bit more reserved. Though… he'd probably bend over right then and there if Tony asks him…

He shakes his head so his ears sway again and he forces himself to focus.

"I wanna spend time with you, too," Peter says and tries to get all those rampant desires under control. "I… I wanna know more than what your favorite food is."

He says the words and realizes just how true they are. The bunny can't deny that he's so, so curious over what differences they have, but he doesn't mind at all. 

It's exciting. Being with Tony is exciting and his little heart is beating with the thrill of having their first date.

There's so much Peter wants to know. Tony's favorite color… his hobbies… the way his lips taste…

Peter subconsciously tugs on his ear to focus and keep his mind out of the gutter.

Tony’s eyes watch his fingers curl around the soft looking ear with an intensity that has gotten him in trouble in the past. He just wants to feel out how soft it is with his lips. Maybe run it over his cheek and then lean in and kiss Peter-

He yips to himself to focus on something other than Peter’s entire gorgeous being and how much he wants to lick and taste every inch of him. 

Fortunately, they've reached the restaurant. The scent of peanut oil and sizzling meat… Cajun, sharp and spicy, assault Peter's nose. He rubs it with his free hand but he knows he'll get accustomed to the smell fast.

Tony takes over and leads them up to the register. His stomach growls audibly from the delicious scent of cooking meat and frying oils filling his nose. His mouth waters so badly, he has to swallow before he can speak clearly.

“Go ahead and order whatever you want first. Mine is going to take them a while.” Tony winks at Peter. He doesn’t want to keep the bunny waiting for his ridiculous wolf appetite.

Peter flashes Tony a smile before he looks at the menu to make sure it's the same one he googled earlier.

"Small Cajun fries and um, just a cheeseburger," he tells the employee. Then he ticks off the toppings, a variety of veggies and ends it off with a, "And can I get it wrapped in lettuce?"

He's curious to see how it'll turn out. The bunny turns back to Tony with a chagrined smile.

Tony lets go of Peter’s hand so he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket. His tail shifts and tucks tighter to the bunny’s leg to compensate for the loss, almost hugging around so the tip tickles along his inner thighs. 

It's still too bad that Peter’s tail is too short to wrap and tangle and wrestle with. Maybe he’d let Tony drape his longer tail over the little bob sometime? It would feel incomplete if Peter was properly scented everywhere but his tail and it was actually driving Tony a little crazy not having access. That cute little fluff ball belongs to Tony as much as everything else.

He shakes his head at himself when he registers how possessive that sounds, even in the privacy of his inner consciousness. He's going to be good. He’ll hold back, go as slowly as Peter wants, let the bunny lead. 

He’s definitely not going to be a possessive stereotypical wolf that scents and fucks Peter constantly, circling and snarling at anyone that looks at him wrong. He's better than that. 

Peter deserves him to be better than that. 

The bunny's eyes widen a bit. He's definitely not used to feeling that and with how close it is to his groin, he's hyper aware of it. Normally, such a sensitive spot is extremely tickleish but in this setting…

His face flushes such a deep red when the scent of his own arousal sneaks up to his nose.

"Um, I'll be right back," Peter says, "Gonna hop in the bathroom for a sec."

He's worried he'll slick right through his pants and then, there'll be no way to explain that besides the fact that Tony just turns him into such a mess…

“Alright. I’ll pay, order mine, then pick a spot for us.” Tony leans his weight harder on Peter for a second before letting up. He resists the urge to rub their cheeks together; Peter is scent marked enough to survive a Five Guys bathroom unescorted. 

"Be right back," Peter squeaks but not before pecking Tony on the cheek and running off.

Tony smiles to himself, pleased from the affection. He follows Peter with his ears, eyes still on the cashier as he orders ten combos for his own meal. He pays and heads to an empty table to wait for Peter. 

He pulls his phone out as he waits, catching up on emails and news for about thirty seconds before he switches to the latest article on bunny fashion and trends. He needs to make sure he gets Peter only the best of the best.

The Honey Bunny’s are only the start. Tony would get Peter as many treats and nice things as he could handle and then some. 

In the bathroom, Peter rushes into one of the stalls and he's right. He's starting to slick up just because Tony had casually curled his tail around his leg.

The bunny just wants to squeak in dismay over the entire thing. His stupid bunny body and their natural hyper sensitivity to everything. It's even worse when a bunny actually likes someone.

Peter feels incredibly embarrassed over the reaction since he's never felt this way before.

Their bodies don't understand public decency and Peter's, in particular, is now pumping out fuck me pheromones like it's his last fertile heat. It's ridiculous and as he tries to calm himself down, he's thankful that Tony's taken it so smoothly. The wolf is so polite and reserved, letting Peter keep face despite knowing what he smells like.

Cold water helps to bring the color in his cheeks down from a flushed red to a faint pink. He fixes himself up as much as possible and before he walks out the door. He stalls in front of one of the dispensers tucked away near the exit.

Slick pads…Scent neutralizing.

He bites his lip because he's not in heat but every time Tony so much as smiles at him, he feels like he is.

Better safe than sorry.

When he returns, it's to see several workers carrying numerous trays of burgers. Maybe there's a large party?

His eyes follow and... Nope. They're all headed to his date, the wolf tucked away in a corner and immersed in his phone. Peter's tail twitches in excitement and he quickly makes his way over.

In the whole pile of burgers, he spots his order.

"Wow," Peter ends up blurting out, but then he does a little bounce on his toes, worried that the single word might've been offensive.

"I mean, this is a lot," Peter says. 

Tony looks up at Peter’s words, smiling broadly and pointing both ears forward to show he's listening. His tail hangs limp and relaxed out past the chair so the dark end trails the ground. 

“I haven’t eaten in a while.” Tony shrugs off the amount with only some chagrin. It's normal for most wolves to snack throughout the day and have one big meal with their family and loved ones. 

Like most things, Tony takes normal to the extreme and pushes the limits on his endurance. Like skipping eating today and yesterday to work on his projects. Which is a habit of his that he falls into whenever something catches his interest. 

Far too often if you asked Rhodey. And Pepper. And Happy.

Tony vows to never let this topic come up when he brings Peter to the pack for inspection. 

Peter debates for a moment if he should sit on the opposite side or if he should sit next to Tony. He really wants to stay close but… so much food… He doesn't want to hinder the man.

Reluctantly, he takes the opposite seat.

"Do all wolves have a large appetite?" He asks curiously.

Tony sits up and pulls two burgers closer to himself. He’s mastered the art of putting away food quickly and efficiently. 

“Not if they don’t exercise, or if they eat at regular intervals with a non-wolf. But I’m running around constantly for my company and if there’s nobody making me sit down for food, I just… forget. Until I’m hungry enough to eat a deer.” Tony grins wide enough to show off his fangs. He loves that Peter doesn’t seem afraid of them. 

Peter is more than aware of the wolf's fangs and a thrill shoots through him at the sight.

He thinks Tony looks so… devastatingly handsome. And dangerous. His little bunny heart shouldn't be thumping this hard in his chest but he can't help how it makes him feel.

He's pretty sure his little fluffy tail is wiggling, too 

“I might not eat all of this, too. I usually order a lot and see how far I get,” Tony adds on, starting to eat. His record is nine. 

“Do bunnies have to eat a lot because of high metabolism?” Tony asks in equal curiosity.

Peter blinks, ear doing a slight twitch.

"No, not really," he says but then he remembers the little hoard of snacks he keeps at both his job and at the apartment. 

The bunny smiles sheepishly.

"Uhh, well, I mean– I think, maybe?" He leans closer, fascinated by the big bites Tony takes.

Tony hums at him encouragingly, pulling two more burgers close to him so he could keep going when he very quickly finishes the first ones. He felt like he could listen to Peter’s adorable fumbling for hours. 

The way Tony consumes his food shouldn't be fascinating to the bunny but for some reason, it is. It's almost mesmerizing...

What big teeth you have…

The words are right there, teasing and playful, but Peter holds back. He doesn't want the wolf to think he's making fun of him.

He holds his own burger, wrapped in lettuce, and takes quick tiny little nibbles on it.

"I have a lot of snacks," Peter clarifies, "like a lot of snacks. A whole cabinet at work with my name on it. The Honey Bunny's didn't make it…"

He has maybe a handful of cookies left for May. They may or may not get back to the apartment intact.

“That’s fine. That just means I did right getting them for you in the first place.” Tony preens from the knowledge of a gift accepted and loved. Already, he wants to buy Peter more; as many as it takes to get him to smile and gush some more for Tony. 

Seeing Peter happy from something Tony did makes Tony’s chest warm and his ears perk up in pride. Peter deserves nice things and to be happy, always.

Peter reaches over and shly brushes his fingers over Tony's wrist. He hadn't expected the wolf to get him anything, considering this is all so new…

"Thank you for the cookies," Peter says sincerely, brown eyes so warm and sweet like honey. "I loved them and– and I'm sure you put a lot of thought into it…"

He goes to pull away, realizing he shouldn't be disturbing the man. With how fast Tony's eating, he's probably ravenous.

Tony catches Peter’s wrist and adapts to eating one handed in the time it takes to rub and scent back. He laces their fingers together as he works through his food. 

He’s honored that Peter is so trusting and willing to scent himself on Tony already. Of course, Tony wants to scent Peter back; maybe the bunny is just nervous about assuming and doesn’t understand his standing in Tony’s eyes?

The wolf lowers his ears and brings his tail out level and relaxed, flagging his contentment and their equal standing and his adoration for the whole world. He smiles and even stops eating long enough to really hammer home how sincerely he means it.  

Peter is just- he’s so- Tony wants to keep him for himself but he also wants to show him off to everyone. Peter is incredible and the fact he’s accepted Tony’s courting so easily (Scenting! Eating the cookies!) feels sort of like a miracle but Tony isn’t about to stop it from happening.

Statement made, Tony shoves half a burger in his mouth and wiggles his ears at Peter to go on, squeezing his hand where he’s still holding it across the table.

Peter is struck speechless for a moment, eyes focusing on where their hands touch. He's never quiet for long though, so even as his heart races, the bunny's already opening his mouth. He finds that he likes hearing Tony talk. He could probably listen to Tony talk about anything, and it'd be worthwhile just to hear the soft, comforting timbre of his voice.

Besides, he's a curious one and he does want to know the wolf better.

"What would you be doing if you weren't here?" Peter randomly asks.

Would Tony be eating at some fancy restaurant? Then again, he said he constantly forgets to eat so maybe not. What else then?

Oh! Tony said he had the rest of the day off. Peter wonders how he managed to do that. Peter, himself, had to use the sad bunny eyes on Ned to get him to cover his extended break turned day off.

“Working. It never actually stops when you’re at the top, you just get better at prioritizing commitments.” Tony’s ears briefly flick in the negative, lips frowning to match. 

He hasn’t needed to prioritize anything above work in a long time. Hasn’t prioritized much in a long time; just working, relentlessly, through every task given to him. 

Tony yips to himself and pointedly straightens his smile and his ears. He's having a good time, right now and doesn’t need to dwell in the past. 

“I’d rather be here, anyway. Much better company.” Tony squeezes Peter’s fingers and twists his wrist so he could swipe his thumb over the bunny’s wrist, leaving a quick and flirty scenting. 

Peter smiles at the movement, unaware of how much the wolf is actually doing. He sees it as a cute little game and his tail wiggles with his giddy emotions. He tries to turn his hand so he could catch those quick fingers, but they slip through his grasp.

He still smiles and trails after the wolf, resting his fingers over Tony's.

"I'd still be back at the shop…" Peter muses. Missing you.

Is it too early to miss someone when he's only known Tony for a day? He's glad that the wolf seems equally interested though Peter bites his bottom lip to deter his thoughts from moving towards the more explicit end.

“Do you like working there?” Tony asks around his fifth burger. 

He's starting to slow down. Talking to Peter helps keep him from shoveling even more in his mouth. 

His tail shifts up and out of the way in sudden interest, eyes flicking down to Peter’s crotch as his thoughts dip into what other things could be shoved past his lips. He licks salt and thick meat juice from his lips and lets out a low, rumbling growl of want. 

When he realizes how indecent he's being, he forcibly drags his eyes away and tucks his tail under the chair. 

Peter perks up in attention.

"I do!" He says, a bit more enthusiastic than he means to. "I like working there. Ned's there and MJ. We have a temp that's kind of a jerk but Flash isn't usually around when I'm scheduled."

Tony files the name ‘Flash’ away from Ned and MJ in his head. Coworker, but not friends. He’ll remember that Flash is Not Pack the next time he’s in.

“That’s good though. Even if you’re not friends with all of your coworkers, it sounds like you really enjoy it.”  

Peter isn't even halfway done with his burger but then again, he's been a bit distracted with the wolf. It's easier now to distract himself. His appetite for other more… private things… is overwritten by the smell of food.

"It's only for the summer though," Peter tells Tony. He doesn't know why he's babbling all this info at the wolf. Surely, it can't be that interesting? And yet, the words tumble out. "Summer vacation, saving up a little bit for when I go to college."

Tony can’t relate, having been rich enough to attend and graduate college whenever he felt like going. He points his ears at Peter and tries to show his support and listening anyway.

Peter tilts his chin down, suddenly shy.

"I kind of… wanna go into IT," Peter says. 

It's not the usual career for a bunny. Bunnies tend to go more towards… cooking. House design. There's a variety of fields but Peter's always been interested in software, In technology.

It's another thing that makes him feel less of a bunny but May has always enthusiastically supported him. That's all he's ever needed.

But admitting this now, there's a tiny bit of worry that the wolf might make fun of him for it. He's omega, too...

“That’s great! We could use more bright minds like you at SI. The brain’s power has nothing to do with the body’s shape, after all.” Tony says honestly, perking up now that he's on familiar ground. 

His HR department spearheaded equality operations but Tony still has to approve major policy changes. He knows there's a big push for more omegas in STEM and for more prey types. Peter checks two marks at once already.

Tony's enthusiastic support leaves Peter speechless. That tiny but relevant fear simply vanishes and Peter is… God, he's in love.

How can this wolf leave him feeling so elated and so invincible? It's like he really does think Peter would be perfect at such an amazing and innovative company like Stark Industries.

The next thought comes so swiftly and clearly that Peter can't even deny it. 

I'd have this man's babies if he wanted me to.

“I think you’ll do great at whatever you do. Every career is different, but you seem eager to learn, and that’s half the issue with pursuing anything. You have to be willing to put in effort.” Tony sounds like he’s lecturing him. He fidgets in his seat, ears twitching in his sudden internal agitation. 

Throughout the quickfire answers, Peter ignores that low heat of wantwantwant he feels towards the wolf. But now, he feels so relaxed and comfortable around the wolf that he's sure that his scent has deepened with sweetness. 

He can't really help that though. The excitement that the wolf is showing is infectious.

"Thank you, Tony," he says softly, "That really means a lot to me… I want to. I really want to, and I will! I just wasn't sure until now if I really should…"

He's grateful, so grateful. Maybe it's silly to commit to his major just because Tony hyped him up over it, but maybe that's all he needs. Just one other person to believe he can do it.

His scent deepens with happiness, it's a subtle difference, lighter in scent but not any less richer.

Peter smiles widely at the wolf and runs his thumb over the prominent knuckles of Tony's fingers.

Jeez, Peter smells better than the burgers. 

Tony focuses back on the present with a jolt of lust, too startled by the intensity to remember his vocal cue for focusing.

All Tony wants to do is sink his teeth into those soft bunny thighs and suck marks into what must be such tender skin...

Tony yips to himself now. He has to focus. If he keeps getting distracted by Peter’s mouthwatering scent, then he’ll start to give off aroused pheromones in no time. He couldn’t possibly subject Peter to something as awkward as that on a first date. 

He has to be good. For Peter.

He doesn’t want Peter to think that all Tony wants to do is bend him over the nearest surface, pull his pants down with a tug on that cute little tail, and rail his pretty pink-

Okay. He needs to go, now, before the scent of aroused alpha starts a scene in a Five Guy’s lobby. 

“Ah, bathroom break for me, too. Be right back.” Tony puts his burger down and gives Peter a quick squeeze of the hand before making his escape. 

He hopes the bunny doesn’t think the worst of him (even though he kind of is the worst, for thinking about Peter that way) as he heads for the same bathrooms Peter had disappeared into earlier. 

Peter watches him go with an almost forlorn look. He schools his features, though a small little pout still remains.

He needs to calm down. The bunny focuses on his burger, fully immersing himself in the crunch of lettuce between his teeth and the burst of yummy flavor over his tongue.

Without the wolf to distract him, Peter finishes in no time. He only had one burger, after all.

He nibbles on a couple fries but with Tony still in the bathroom, he unlocks his phone. There's a couple texts from Ned and a scandalous one from MJ.

He replies back to Ned but sends MJ a series of blushing emojis.

He peeks up from his phone but Tony still hasn't appeared.

With Google open, his fingers fly across the keyboard.

Wolf and bunny compatibility

Dating wolves

What to do when dating a predator.

Do canines really knot?

His heart is beating over time as his eyes slip over links and articles. That last search though… Maybe he shouldn't have looked that one up because the article he finds is… Detailed.

His breathing goes shallow and he sinks a bit in his chair, fiddling with an ear as he reads. Wolves have knots. Peter feels like he can faint right then and there because he's never thought about dating a canine or a wolf, but– a knot.

In the bathroom, Tony splashes water on his face and waits for his burgeoning erection to go down enough to piss comfortably. He paces, ranging back and forth from sinks to stalls to urinals and back. 

His pheromones seem so potent in here. Has he calmed down? It’s so hard to tell. The fans in here are too weak to cycle his scent out and he winces guiltily when a cat omega comes in and gives him judgy eyes. 

Even with human eyes and features, felines seem to give the best judgy faces.

Tony leaves before the cat can say anything. His dress pants are smooth in the front, not displaying the roiling arousal and general horniness that still kicked off like a drumbeat in his veins. 

And that’s the most important part. 

Tony slides back into his seat and forces his ears and tail into neutral instead of telegraphing his interest like before. He could control himself. He would control himself. 

For Peter.

“Are you done? I can get a bag for the rest.” Tony’s capable of eating more but he’s not actually hungry anymore. Well. Not hungry for food, at any rate.

Peter's so focused on his phone, heart beating loud in his ears, that he doesn't realize Tony's returned.

The sound of the wolf's voice startles him so much that he fumbles with his phone in an attempt to close the browser. 

He doesn't succeed.

Tony watches the bunny’s attempts to close out of whatever browser he was in. His ears perk up in excitement, not wanting to invade his privacy but still curious as hell about what could possibly get his bunny date to panic so badly.

He’s eager to see what’s on the screen. Wants to look so bad, but doesn’t want to pry. 

What does happen is that Peter’s sweaty palms allow the phone to slip and combined with his attempt to smash the home button, it ends up dropping to the table. Fortunately, it lands on one of Tony's burgers and goes skidding instead of smacking into the table.

Unfortunately, it ends up being closer to Tony than to Peter.

Tony’s eyes track it’s progress, watching to see where it goes so he can catch it on the off chance it goes off the table (unlikely but he’s seen phones launch farther before) but mostly to try and catch a glimpse of what the screen looks like.

He’s never denied being a nosy little shit sometimes.

It lands screen-up, a full blown HD picture of wolf genitalia zoomed in. Specifically at the base because Peter was just so damn curious that he couldn't help looking.

There's a big, fat juicy knot. On his phone. In front of the wolf he just met and has a serious crush on.

💗💗💗

Mads 💗: this is how that scene happened:

 Mads: … imagine if…

 Keyz: 👀

 Mads: I'm doing it. 😏😏😏

Keyz 💖: Heh ;)

[thatoneitaliangirl]

Interesting Dreams

I really think I have an issue with otome games- Ikemen in particular. Like, I had the weirdest dream last night, and I mostly blame otome games. It was one of those dreams that are dramatic and feel like your watching a movie, but they also are so fucking random and are jumping all over the place- at one point there was a boy dressed in a cape and I called him out for being suss and he said in a fake posh British accent, whilst swooshing his cape mind you,

“I’m sorry, you see, I have stage 4 ADHD.” And I was just so confused, I was like,

“Did you just compare your ADHD to cancer?” 

The main part of my dream is why I’m here today to tell you this fanciful story. 

Basically, I was some beautiful vampiric woman with a dramatic backstory. I don’t remember everything, but I was living in a mansion with some other people, and I had been turned into a vampire. What does that sound like, hmm? Unfortunately, the people I was living with were not great historical figures, or even vampires, we were just all misfits with no where to go, living together in this large creepy mansion in the middle of nowhere. And when I say creepy, I mean this place was like something out of Scooby Doo. Dark, gloomy, and it even had a freaking cemetery in the back. In my tragic back story, I was married to some noble or something. I remember that our clothes looked fancy and that we were probably rich, and it was like late 1700′s early 1800′s or so. We had a son who was maybe about 6 or 7, and in the beginning I had thought that both of them were murdered and I was left alive, and afterwards was turned to a vampire for some reason, I don’t know. The thing with being turned into a vampire though was that it came with a curse of sorts. Once turned into a vampire, no one could recognize you, or at least, wasn’t supposed to. I guess that’s a pretty good defense after turning, so you couldn’t be caught, but I don’t know. So, my husband shows up, and it’s like present time at this point, and for some reason I can recognize him, but he can’t recognize me. I’m freaking out, cause one, he’s supposed to be dead, two, I know that it’s him and I’m not supposed to, and three he believes I’m the reason our son died and he recently received news that I’m alive and has been hunting me down to kill me. Now, he has suspicions that I am in fact me, and his time at the manor is spent trying to prove that I am me and wanting to kill me. I don’t know why, but at one point I find myself in the cemetery out back being followed by my husband and the two men he’s traveling with. I’m surrounded by gravestones and its foggy as fuck, and I remember looking back and seeing them. With some quick thinking, I use magic of some sorts and change the name on a random gravestone to my name, which, btw, isn’t my real full name. It’s my real first name, Jenna, with the last name Clemence. Shocker. Though, the man that’s my husband is neither Luka, nor Jonah. I don’t remember my dream ever giving him a first name, but he didn’t look anything like Jonah or Luka. If anything he looked like a mixture of Zen from Mystic Messenger, and Prussia from Hetalia. He had long white hair that was put back in a low ponytail, and it had one of those bows in it you see in men from like the 1700′s. But, after he was turned into a vampire, his hair changed into a dark maroon color and his bangs were a bit more perfect and nice if that makes sense. So, I put my name on this gravestone, and he comes over to me and I point it out to him. I’m like, 

“Oh, I know I have the same first name as your late wife, but look! This appears to be her gravesite! It would seem she has passed after all!” And he’s like super suspicious of me, but he can’t out right prove that I’m his wife, and so he chooses to drop it. Weirdly enough, this is where my dream kind of jumps, because it goes from us being in the cemetery, to me and two other guys from the manor searching the house in which my husband and son had ‘died’ to find out how my husband survived and how he was turned, but that’s where it stops. I remember bits and pieces of the house, that it was really weird and falling apart. Thinking about that house actually gives me weird vibes, I don’t know why. Like just imagining myself being there is creepy I guess. Anyway, my dream jumps from that act to another with an entirely different plot. We’re in the same mansion, but for some reason I’m now an Inhuman with electricity powers, and I’m apart of the Avengers . . . I did binge watch the new Avengers game, so that could be why-

But we’re stuck in the mansion, and for some reason can’t get out. Like it’s not explained or mentioned, I just know that we’re stuck and can’t even set foot outside the mansion. Tony Stark’s arc reactor in his chest starts to malfunction, and the only way to keep it going is to take it out and for me to ‘charge’ it with my powers by putting it in my mouth . . . But not just in my mouth, no, it has to be touching my teeth- I don’t know why, and I never claimed that my dreams make sense- but holding it in my teeth hurts like a bitch, and I remember actually feeling the vibrations in my teeth and how badly it hurt. Like, I find it insane that my dream was so vivid that I can still remember the exact pain I was feeling in my teeth. (Low key, I think this might prove my suspicion that I’m grinding my teeth in my sleep, but I digress) It was really weird. But, to remedy this, Tony creates this blue jelly like stuff to put over my teeth, kind of like a whitening strip, that puts a buffer between my teeth and the vibrations and it stops the pain. A couple of times during this act of my dream, I had to fight things- they were like entities that were in this mansion, and again, while it was never specifically mentioned, I knew in my dream that these things where what was keeping us stuck in there, and that we were trying to hide from them. Kind of like Hetaoni if your apart of the Hetalia fandom. If not, it’s a game (Based on another game) featuring the characters from the anime Hetalia that get stuck in a mansion and can’t leave due to an entity messing with time and keeping them stuck there. And while the mansion gave me weird, creepy vibes, nothing about time was ever mentioned, and the only thing I remember about fighting them was that I was drooling a lot because of the stupid blue shit I had to keep on my teeth and the constant vibrations from charging. My dream had briefly jumped from that to another act where we were still in the mansion, but this time I was a doctor. My doctor name wasn’t my real name, I can only remember that it was long and started with a D. And I literally remember nothing of that part of the dream, but I remember I was a doctor, because at one point I had actually woken up in real life to move, and I heard a voice from behind me whisper ‘Dr. ______’ whatever my name was, and I remember thinking to myself,

“Oh shit, something just said my name. That was creepy, but I’m going to choose to ignore it and go back to sleep.” And after that, I remember nothing. Do I think there was some being whispering in my ear? No, obviously not. What it probably was, was that even though I was awake and had opened my eyes for a couple of seconds, I wasn’t fully awake and was still kind of dreaming. I don’t know if this has ever happened to you, but sometimes when I’m falling asleep and I’m in that space where I’m not awake, but I’m still aware of my surroundings and I’m not fully asleep, sometimes I’ll start to hear voices and noises. I’ve always just kind of explained this to myself as my dreams starting to form, but I don’t know if that’s really what it is. What I’m trying to say is that this is what I think the voice was. It was a really freaky dream, and I just find it odd that no matter how much my dream changed it’s story line, it all revolved around that one mansion-

[cecilspeaks]

164 - The Faceless Old Woman (Live)

[applause]

Jeffrey Cranor: I’m really excited, we wrote this script recently coming up in this last performance for tonight. And I got real excited for writing it, cause we haven’t written like a, to do a live show full length in a new voice. And it was a lot of fun to do.

Joseph Fink: Yeah so tonight we are presenting the first Welcome to Night Vale show that is entirely from the point of view of someone who is not Cecil, this is the time when the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home gets to step out from her secret.. place in your home. [laughter] And tell you a little bit about herself.

Jeffrey: One of my favorite things about writing the Faceless Old Woman stuff is cause the way Joseph and I work is that we’ll write episodes or write parts of episodes and pass it to the other and that person will, sometimes have questions but oftentimes just maybe like add something to it. So a lot of times it’s either, when I get stuff back from Joseph and I dunno if he feels the same way getting stuff back form me, with the Faceless Old Woman script it was always either something really hilarious for something really upsetting. [laughter] And I really love that a lot.

Joseph: This is maybe the most upsetting thing we’ve ever written, I hope you guys enjoy it. [laughter]

Jeffrey: Have fun, good night! [applause]

Joseph: I guess we should start that show we talked about.

Jeffrey: Let’s do it. You guys, let’s welcome to the stage your friend and ours, Mara Wilson!

[applause] [long silence]

Mara Wilson: I am the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. Hello. You don’t know me, but I know you. I know you very well. I’ve been going through your medicine cabinet. You take too much Advil. Do you realize how hard that is on your digestion? I know a couple gelcaps and a glass of water before bed can alleviate a morning hangover, but it also puts you in a bad mood, because you don’t get good sleep with all that extra stress you put on your guts. You know what’s a better hangover cure? Not drinking like it’s the last day of community college. I replaced your vodka with clear Windex, and your Advil with Ipecac. This won’t help your hangovers, but it certainly will be more entertaining for me. I don’t sleep, so I need better late night entertainment than Netflix. I’ve already watched every episode of “Money Heist” and “Criminal Man” and “Planet documentary”, I have to spice it up a little bit.

Which reminds me, sorry about the tarantula incident last week. And here I’m speaking specifically to you, Tony. Yes you, in the shirt. The one hoping I’m not talking about you. I’m not sorry you woke up with a tarantula covering your face, nor that it bit you, causing your eyelids to swell up like Kinder eggs filled with purulent discharge instead of toys. I am sorry that I forgot to turn the flash off of my camera, which alarmed both you and the spider, and I never got a good photo. I’ve been building up my portfolio for an art exhibit I call “Gross Things on a Sleeping Tony”. It’s going up June 1, exclusively in your living room.  I’ve already gotten “Open-mouthed Centipede Bouquet” framed. You’re gonna find this show absolutely terrific.  Wait no, not terrific, what’s the word? Terrifying.

Tony, you’re one of my favorites in Night Vale. I know you hate your direct marketing job selling high interest credit cards to twenty-somethings, but the benefits are great. You have health care, a 401k, and you get to take advantage of people less fortunate than you. Everything is its own reward. But I’ve read your poetry, you love poetry. To be fair, there isn’t a big job market for poets, but you need to explore what makes you happy. I tattooed one of my favorite lines of poetry on you last month. It’s by Mary Oliver. “Instructions for living a life. Close your eyes. Be scared. Good luck.” And then I drew a little butterfly next to the words. I’m not the best artists, though, so it kind of looks like a radish or a sarcoma. Doesn’t matter, you still haven’t noticed. It’s just right below your right shoulder blade, don’t try to find it now, it’s still healing and given that I used the metal rod from that fondue set in your closet as the needle, it’s possible it’s infected. Better to leave it alone.

Tony, look at me. Imagine where my eyes would be. You have a lot to work through. I’m here to help you, I really am. I’ll prove it by giving you some advice. If a venomous arthropod is on your face, don’t scream.

Anyway, it’s not you Tony who’s bothering me, it’s the new people. They are elderly, like me, and they just moved into a house in the center of Night Vale. Or maybe this is decades from now, time is a little hazy for me. I’ve never been in this house nor noticed it before they moved in. it’s a one bedroom and there are three of them. I thought polyamory, but they have three separate beds and they never speak to each other, rarely look at each other, and never leave the home. The first night I secretly lived in their home, I realized they never slept either. They brushed their teeth, put on pajamas and get into bed. But they all lie there, eyes open, through silent hours of darkness.

I tried whispering to them but got no response. Usually when I reveal myself in the dark, I get the thrill of witnessing horror dawn across a person’s distorted mouth and bulging eyes as they see my faceless face pressed up against their own. One of the best parts of visiting new residents. But not these three. For once, I’m the frightened one.

Speaking of frightening, did you get your taxes (-) [0:08:20] on time Alex? You, you’re Alex. You with the shoes. I had to file for an extension. I don’t owe any money because I have no income, but I’m over 200 years old, never got a social security number, have no permanent address and I wasn’t born in this country, it’s a lot of paperwork. And Alex, you know your Wi-Fi is terrible and I was having a hard time downloading the forms I needed, so I just wrote my name on some yellowish-black Boston lettuce you’ve left in the crisper for the last three weeks. But the leaves kept falling apart, I think more like melting. After about 20 minutes, I got frustrated and just made myself a salad. Also, I used the last of your parmesan cheese, but don’t worry, I replaced it with dried skin I’ve been collecting from your bed sheets. Don’t be grossed out, Alex. Same texture and nutritional value, you won’t know the difference. I got the idea from a Food Network’s “Beat Bobby Flay”, where this one winner tied up Bobby and ran a (micro-) [0:09:17] across his forehead to make a chimichurri sauce.

I love that show, but I’m a bigger fan of HGTV’s “House Hunters”, the desert dystopian version. That’s where I met you, Addie. Yes you, with the face. You were shopping for a new home here in Night Vale. You told the realtor - who was inside of a living deer, its belly horrifically distended and quivering with every one of the agent’s words and gesticulation – that you wanted three bedrooms, a back yard, and something close to an outdoor community space. The first home, the yard was not in good shape, lots of (- remains) [0:09:55] and the lawn was glowing, perhaps from underground radiation testing. It was well under your budget, but you would have had to spend your savings on fixing it up. Also, in the bathroom mirror you saw, crawling across the ceiling, a faceless old woman devouring what looked like a rat. You didn’t need to worry about a rat infestation, Addie. It was a chipmunk. The second home was a condo right in the heart of the arts district. You loved the design: a simple large black cube, no doors, no windows, no interior. A true closed floor plan, so popular these days. But you weren’t sure there was enough room for entertaining, or anything else at all. The house you selected was perfect. Three bedrooms, a Jacuzzi en suite, and a large patio backyard. Plus it was right in the middle of town next to a community dog park. Although you would be disappointed later to learn that your dog had been arrested for domestic espionage after peeing inside the park’s forbidden walls. I think you made the right choice, Addie, but I can’t help wondering every time I watch “House Hunters”, who is this person running away from? You left Queens to move to Night Vale. Queens is where your family lives, where your best friend lives, and your girlfriend of two years. Are you afraid of stasis, Addie? Of being loved, of commitment? You might be afraid of that pinkish ooze coming out of your ear, might wanna see an ENT about that. Or if not an ENT, an entomologist.

Speaking of putting woodboring beetles inside orifices, I tried a similar thing with the elderly room mates who recently moved to town, or will move to town many years from now, again time is strange to me. But these room mates are also so strange. When I went to put a beetle into one of their ears, I noticed a lot of scar tissue there, making the hole too small. In my haste, the beetle scurried away and I got kind of desperate and just made a bunch of spooky moans and hisses like this: [moans, hisses] but not one of the three responded to me. They continued their meaningless pantomime of sleeping, and in the morning they got up and each went quietly about their days. One of them made coffee, but did not drink it. They then went to the window and waved at their neighbor, Susan Willman, who was on her porch stretching before her morning run. Susan looked at the figure in the window next to her and froze. She stared in terror, then darted back into her home and locked the door. Susan has always been unfriendly. I ran her bed sheets through her office shredder as a reminder to be more open and loving toward the world.

The other two room mates climbed into the shower at the same time. I’m not one to get off on others’ sexual activities, I just thought I might see something new, something human here. But no, they stood side by side, cleaning their cold gravity-defeated bodies, not once looking at each other let alone speaking. A squelch and a squish and grey water falling around yellow toenails. They toweled off, but when they hung the towels up, those towels were completely dry.

I’m used to being the one who does inexplicable and disturbing things. Last year during the community players’ production of “Romeo and Juliet”, I decided it would be more fun if they used actual poison. But it was a last minute idea, so the only poison I could find was Borax. Which just gave the two kids playing the leads several unhappy hours in the bathroom on the night after the show ended, so I don’t know. I could have made a stronger directorial choice. But so could the actual director, I get that Shakespeare plays are long, but he cut out all the best parts like the train robbery, and also Tybalt winning his bowling league. Although I did appreciate that they left in Juliet’s famous line: “Good night, good night, your blood and guts and marrow, which worms shall eat inside your grave so narrow.” It’s a classic story. Kids these days just don’t try to fake their own deaths anymore.

Oh. And Morgan. Yes Morgan, I’m talking to you, you with the fingernail sand the teeth. I need to explain something to you. You tip 20 per cent. You can afford it, stop using it as a measure of how much you approve of the restaurant service. A 20 per cent tip is not  bonus, it’s a fee. Restaurant owners don’t pay their staffs, instead they make the diners pay their employees through this idiotic notion of capitalist meritocracy. I don’t care how bad the service, tip them. You have money, Morgan. I would also tell you to stop asking to speak to a manager every time your Long Island Ice Tea is a bit like, but I got out your tongue last month, so they wouldn’t understand you anymore anyway. Do you know what a cut human tongue tastes like, Morgan? Yes you do. You just don’t know that you do. Remember Applebee’s last week? You ordered soup. It was a beef base with  little onions and little perfectly sautéed flecks of your own tongue that you had used to lash out at a manager the last time you ate there. You could blame them for poorly expediting your orders, but really the onus is on you for going to Applebee’s. Which serves neither of the items its name promises. It’s false advertising. It’s like an egg cream soda, or Taco Bell.

Speaking of eating, the elderly room mates made lunch together, but not for each other. They were all in the kitchen at the same time making separate meals in silence. They sat around the dining room table together and ate. They carved and stabbed and pushed foods quickly into their mouths, but their eyes were empty. One of them began to spit out their food. No one seemed to care or notice. They all began to vomit, but not with muscular heaves of shoulders and necks, the vomit spurted out like water from a hand pump, their torsos and heads perfectly still. After each bodily rejection of food, they would start shoveling it back to their mouths, repeating the same process. Eventually one of them stood up and threw their plate into the kitchen window, glass bursting everywhere. That person leaned into the hole and began punching the jagged shards out with their clenched fists as blood poured out of their forearms and wrists. They screamed mournfully into the suburban street. Neighbors and passers-by passed only briefly, as if they had barely heard the sad howls spreading across the valley. Susan’s lemon tree next door died instantly and all the lemons fell with wet plops to the ground. The fruit pealed open and inside of each was a fleshy crimson pulp, like meat that has been ground for too long. The other two room mates kept eating and vomiting, not even noticing the shattered glass being subsumed by the growing pool of blood on the floor.

You know, I wasn’t always like this, faceless or old. Secretly living anywhere. Once I was born upon warm water. The smell I remember is sharp citrus and the peppery sting of grass. The salt funk of ocean. I was once a child. I grieved once. I smelled blood. Once I was a thief. I lived among thieves, I saw empires rise and fall, centuries cast themselves upon infinity as fruitlessly as waves upon cliffs. Once I was a recluse. I lived amongst bandits and farmers, I spoke a different language then. I’ve spoken many languages.

Once I was under the sea. That was a quiet time. I lived amongst the coral and dead-eyed fish. Once I was a wanderer. I’ve seen the (head) [0:18:14] waters of the Mississippi and I’ve seen the cobbled streets of Paris and I’ve seen the empty arches of Franchia. But I’ve never seen anything like those three room mates. Of all the things I've been – child, thief, recluse, wandered, faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, I’ll tell you this: I’ve never been more scared.

Fear is in the unknowing and the mystery. Fear is seeing everything about an old woman except her face. Fear is the uncertainty of her secretly living in your home. Fear is not the spider you see on the wall. It’s the spider you no longer see on the wall when you look back again.

In the unnerving din of shattered glass and mournful howls of that house, I found the loose thread that unraveled this mystery. The room mate who screamed had no tongue. And one of the others had an ear swollen shut from a previous surgery. And the other had a red mark, like a radish or sarcoma adorned with poetry drawn upon their shoulder blade. I realized I knew these three strange room mates. They are you, Tony, the special tattoo I gave you. And they are you, Addie, with your oral scar tissue from the beetle I jammed in there. And you, Morgan, with your tongue removed and digested. The three of you do not exactly live together in that home, not at the same time. You are living three different lifetimes in that same space. You do not speak or respond, because you are dead. Each of you alone in that house together, or you will be, time is confusing for me. Decades from now after you die, your souls will be trapped in the house, because something in this world is unresolved for you. You know this, paranormal neuroscience is required for all high school freshmen. But what they don’t teach you is how to resolve it. I know how and when each one of you die. I wrote it down on the back pages of your journals. Iv’e done this for everybody, but nobody ever reads it, because while people always think they’ll write every day, after a few pages they fall off the wagon and never see the lsat pages of their journals. Except Jonathan Franzen. He didn’t seem bothered by what he read. But he did cross out all my adverbs and added some Oxford commas. In case you’re wondering how Jonathan Franzen dies, here’s the answer: he doesn’t.

I am the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home. You might find this ambiguous, after all the word “home” is singular. So whose home is it that I secretly live in? Listen, some things in this tangled world are simple. I live in your home, and your home, and your home, I live in all of your homes simultaneously. I am many. [echo] I am many. I am one. [echo] I am one. You all live such different lives, teeming, that’s what you are: teeming. And I am there watching you.

You, Tony, you dream of being a poet. Resolve the unresolved. The worst that can happen is crushing disappointment and public mockery, and eviction when you can’t pay your rent. Many more awful things after that, get to it!

And you, Addie, you fled your previous city to escape a murder charge. Strangely, you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with, but you have committed murder. Weird choice to go on “House Hunters” as a wanted fugitive, but maybe it was a good first step to healing your soul.

And you, Morgan. You have an idea that could save us all, an epic defining idea, one of the greats, but you don’t know which one. You have so many ideas. I can tell you this: most of them are not important. One of them is vitally important. Good luck. Also, tip 20 per cent.

And you, I forgot your name, you tweet too much. We all tweet too much, but that doesn’t let you off the hook. That’s why I ate your phone. You can thank me later. You can all thank me later. Because you all will be seeing me soon. I think that tonight is the night to let slip my secret. You’ll soon see me fumbling wet and gray from out of the bathroom mirror, or folded up strangely loose skin and mashed bones in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Or you will see me scuttle on your walls, the hair hanging down from my faceless face. Or you will look out your kitchen window and there will be someone standing in your driveway, and it will be me, and there will be no one in the driveway and instead, I will be next to you in the kitchen. Faceless and so very very old. Won’t that be nice?

I’m the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. And your home. And your home. And every home. And I will be seeing you very, very soon.

[music, applause]

Today’s proverb: Never judge a book by its cover. Judge it by the title page instead.

[hippychick006]

15.13: Destiny’s Child - Episode Review/Recap

[Image of episode missing, because out of 15 photos of the promo, only 1 photo was of Sam and Dean and it wasn’t that good.  Other 14 photos were a combination of Ruby, Jo, Castiel and Jack - I shit you not]

I think this episode highlights beautifully many of the issues I and I know a lot of other people are having with the show.

The highlights of the episode are undoubtedly the scenes where AU Sam and Dean interact with our Sam and Dean.  This is why I make a big deal of how much they are being paid per episode. Look at what happens when you write for the people earning the quarter of a million dollars in the episode.  Look what happens when you have it just be them, with no “fan favourite” side characters to pander to.  Chemistry happens, and watering that down or separating it entirely, adding someone into it or trying to force it between characters who just don’t have it, is one of the shows biggest issues in recent seasons and largest contributor to people not watching live or choosing not to watch at all because without that chemistry that made the show special, what are you left with?

Drabbernatural my friends, that’s what you’re left with.

The lowlights of the episode are all the scenes that have been written to pander to a small percentage of the watching audience, so pretty much the rest of the episode in all honesty.  

Under a cut because some people are in denial.

THEN

Flashback to Castiel watching porn about a pizza man.  All that’s in my head from this is Meg!  I think we’re getting Meg (let’s be real, I know we’re getting Meg as it’s already been on my dash, but I would have still thought this regardless of spoilers).  There it is, there’s the canon Megstiel kiss 😍. I’m amazed Dabb managed to keep his big mouth shut on this spoiler.  Anyway, skip this in the entirety to move onto...

NOW

Loved, loved, loved this opening scene. 🥰. Loved everything about it from start to finish.  No complaints whatsoever.

We start with Sam and Dean.  Just Sam and Dean like the good old days 😍. I can’t believe how happy that makes me and they haven’t done anything yet.  

Sam’s going through the books, Dean’s on the laptop, barely any space between them and they appear to be trying to find where Chuck is. They seem to be having no luck.

Sam: Any sign of him? Dean: Nah, nothing yet.  Chucks probably trashing a few dozen universes outside of CNN’s range.

They hear a noise and rush to investigate.  They see a bright light filtering through the bottom of the door of one the rooms. As they look at it, the light (as well as the noise) disappears.  Instantly in hunter mode, Dean indicates for Sam to open the door and they see…

A tiny car that I thought was a mini but have been reliably informed by someone much more knowledgeable than me (which isn’t too difficult tbh) is a Fiat 500. Thank you @alexa-alcantara​.  It’s a cute little car, and a beautiful colour but my own experience of owning a Fiat is not a good memory.  My garage telling me they call them the “Fix It Again Tony” of cars did not help me look any more favourably at them, but on the plus side, I built up a good relationship with my garage from the many hours I spent there.  The car is in front of a portal so it’s clear it’s just come through from one of the other worlds.

Emerging from that cute little car is 12’ 6” of muscle in the form of AU Winchesters.  The car practically groans in relief (I do see it lift up slightly) as they get out to the tune of “I want you” by Savage Garden.” Thank you once again Shazam as I’m as shit on music as I am at identifying cars.  

Did I say I love this scene?  I just…love this entire scene. AU Dean’s in the driving seat (of course), We see AU Sam’s foot emerge and he has no socks on – which I’m wondering is a shoutout to that photo shoot they had with no socks. Possibly it’s the fashion right now which I know even less about than cars or music. The entire scene, it’s just… perfection.  It’s just so well shot, I love that AU Sam and Dean could not be more different from our Sam and Dean from their clothes to the hair. I’ve fallen in love with both these new characters within a 10 second timeframe and they haven’t even spoken yet! That is the genius of Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles on screen, together, without extras, supported by the entire crew from special effects through to wardrobe.  They can all bring their A game which makes it all the more disappointing in the scenes and episodes where they don’t bother.

AU Dean looks back at the portal they came through.

AU SAM: Bro…We did it

AU Sam and Dean fist bump at their success and I’m in danger of losing it.  😂 Side note to size kinkers; that is not Jared and Jensen’s hands there 😂. Hey, no judging from this blog, but I personally don’t consider Jared “huge” and Jensen “tiny”, but you do you.

AU Sam and Dean are too flushed with their own success of getting through the portal to notice our Sam and Dean yet.  Meanwhile, our Sam and Dean are looking at the new arrivals with increasing horror.

AU Dean finally notices our Dean and we get the “Sam” “Dean” “Dean” “Sam” exchange between the four of them.

AU Sam and Dean: What the heck? Our Sam and Dean: What the hell?

Somewhere, I’m hoping that there’s an AU world where they say, “What the fuck?” because I think that would really please Jared.

Each look horrified at the other – I think AU!Sam may be on the point of tears seeing his doppelgänger dressed in plaid.

The portal starts making a loud ominous noise, AU Dean says “aw nuts” and AU Sam and Dean look at each other before the portal goes haywire, exploding in a bright white light, causing our versions to shield their eyes.  When they look back up, AU Winchesters, the car and the portal have all disappeared and the room is back to normal.

What the Heck?  You bring them back right now show!  Don’t be bringing in waste of space or “fan favourite” characters when all I want is these two.  

Sadly, the show does not listen, and we’re forced against our will onto the next scene.

Sam and Dean are explaining to waste of space that a rift opened in the armoury (is that right? I didn’t see any weapons in that room, but it sounded like he said armoury).  Sam says two guys stepped out that looked just like them. Dean: except not, and don’t even get me started about the car. Waste of space does not understand which is his standard operating procedure since his first episode tbh.  I’m not sure if this is still supposed to be funny; it’s been 11 years since season 4. 😴. 

Dean says welcome to the club.  

What?  The dumbass club?  Sam and Dean are such dumbasses that they need Billie to suddenly appear to confirm they’ve met an AU version of themselves running from their reality. Seriously?  😡. They know other worlds are being destroyed, they rescued Kaia from one in the process of being destroyed and that was only last week!  They don’t think that other Sam and Deans in other universes are going to be figuring out what’s happening and trying to do something to stop it?  It doesn’t make sense.  Sam and Dean do reckless things, but they aren’t dumb. 😡

As an aside, what I loved about the AU Sam and Dean we just met, is that they didn’t try to save their world, they were only interested in saving their own pretty asses by trying to jump worlds and I love how different they are from our Sam and Dean who would, and have, sacrificed themselves in a heartbeat to save their world.

I used to like Billie but all the monologuing over the last couple of episodes is 😴 which is not the actresses fault, but there are also some issues with delivery of the lines (because it’s boring). Key point from this entire boring scene is:

Billie: He’s almost done, wrapping up all those other worlds and when he is…Sam: it’s our turn

Billie agrees and says they need to be prepared.  She has the next step… for Jack.

Jack appears on cue, eating a sandwich.  He says he’s ready and feeling good about it.  I’m feeling I’m missing a scene somewhere. Did he already have a chat with Billie, so he knows what she’s about to say?  I’m not sure but don’t care enough to spend any time on it.

Billy monologues that the first quest (eating the hearts) was to strengthen Jack’s body. Step 2 is more spiritual in nature.

Waste of space: can you be more specific? Me: you’re that asshole that asks questions during presentations, aren’t you? Give her a chance to monologue ffs.  She was just about to tell us before your unnecessary interruption. I don’t even have a clue what your contribution to this scene is, other than pre-emptory meltdown avoidance of 200 accounts on twitter.  Death: Jack needs to find the occultum Sam: the occultum? Occultum, that’s Latin for… hidden. Where do we find it? Me: you’re so smart 😍 Death (sarcastic): I don’t know… It’s hidden

Ah yes, a side character making the Winchesters look stupid never gets old. 🙄

Anyway, more boring monologuing later, it’s been hidden for centuries, it’s sacred and potent.  It’s not a weapon per se but it’s powerful.

Dean(sarcastically): Okay, thanks, big help.

She asks Jack if he’s ready and he says he is. She says that’s good, that they have to be ready and vigilant and not stupid (looks at the Winchesters).  Dean’s eyeroll matches mine almost exactly.  Sick, fed up of the Winchesters being called stupid by side characters.  Oh, I said that already.  Well I am!

Avoiding this scene in future and moving on.

Sam and Dean are researching the occultum.  Or at least Sam’s researching and ranting about the occultum, but Deans playing with an elastic band and barely listening. Sam gets his attention and asks what he’s doing. Dean’s thinking about things and how if Jack kills god, that still leaves “you know who”. Sam says: Amara. Dean thinks that if Jack kills god, he’ll have to kill her too, because if you take Chuck off the board, that throws things out of balance and the world ends. If there’s no God or Darkness, nothing is out of balance.

Sam: Okay, Yeah, but who takes over, Jack?

Dean contemplates that and is about to answer when Jack walks in, blowing a bubblegum bubble and announcing he just learned how to do that.

Dean turns back to Sam: Probably not

I love little scenes like this, zero pandering, just classic Supernatural and classic Dean. 😍

Overall, it was another good brother scene (taking aside the boring plot which we can’t do anything about).

Parents Sam and Dean speak to Jack about how he’s going to take down Chuck because Billie hasn’t been clear on the plan.

Dean: Yeah, when you go up against Chuck, you’re gonna what? (makes boxing moves), duck and weave, or just go in for the full smite? 😂

My Dean is back with the one liners in this episode and I love him.  

Jack: Yeah, you know, something like that

Dean’s face. 😂

Unsurprisingly Sam and Dean are not reassured, they’re about to ask more questions when waste of space walks in and good news guys!  Unbelievably, He has information from fellow waste of space/plot device Sergei (does waste of space only have one contact?).  The show aren’t even trying anymore with this shit. Istg. 🙄 Ah what would we do without waste of space?  Definitely have a much more decent episode if I’m going to be perfectly honest.

Anyway, when waste of space announces who he has information from:

Dean: Him? Are we that desperate? 😂

Of course, Sergei knows about the occultum 🙄. He would have been extremely useful to have had around in the early seasons. Each episode would have been tied up in 30 seconds with one phonecall to the font of all knowledge.  I hate characters like this and the laziness of the writing to continue to fallback on him.

Supernatural writer: Hey boss, I’m stuck a little on the occultum storyline Dabb: Have you tried using waste of space and Sergei? Supernatural writer: I didn’t think of that! Great idea, thanks!  I guess that’s why you’re the boss! Me: 🙄 you lazy 🤬

Waste of space monologues about the occultum and what happened to it, he starts off that its divine in origin and was housed in a temple for hundreds of years before…

Dean: it was plundered by pirates! Waste of space: No Dean: it was dug up by tomb raiders! Waste of space: No Dean: it was seized by the king of the dead and his war lords.  Am I close? Waste of space: looted by invading mongol hoardes for trade on the black market Dean: on the black market (looks at Sam) That’s what I thought. I was going to say that next, that was the next one.

Sam indulges his hunter husband.  Oh wait, this is our Sam and Dean, not the AU version.  Rewinds to check.  No, Sam is indulging his hunter husband. He asks waste of space where it is now.

Long explanation later, the object was given to a faith healer in return for saving the owners life.  

Faith healer?  How convenient.  Now, who do we know that’s a faith healer? 🙄

Waste of space doesn’t have a name – are you kidding me? He must have had a name to go to the faith healer. He at least has a description.  She was attractive 🙄 and had glowing hands while healing.

It’s your wife, Jensen!  Erm I mean, Sister Jo.  

Imagine that entire scene with waste of space and Sergei plot device removed, Sam found the information from research and that entire conversation was between him and Dean.  Infinitely better and rewatchable.

Sam and Dean go off to visit Jensen’s wife Sister Jo who at this point of the show’s run has somehow been cast in 4 previous episodes and every single appearance has been completely forgettable.  This one is no different.

I’m going to rant for a second.  This stunt casting, bringing back of “fan favourites”, nepotism, lazy writing crap is really dragging the quality of the show down. We’ve had so many shit, boring, waste of time episodes this season.  You could have replaced a couple of them with the Winchesters trying to track down this elusive but needed item.  Make it hard for them, get rid of Sergei and Jensen’s wife Sister Jo and make the finding of this artefact interesting and more believable by introducing new characters for them to interact with.  This is just… really bleh.

Anyway, Sam and Dean go to see one of the most boring characters ever created, and that includes waste of space who was badass in season 4-5, a dick yes, but a badass none the less so he gets a pass.  This is not a good scene, it’s worth fast forwarding and forgetting it ever existed, not least because of bad dialogue and questionable acting. I am really, really not a wife hater, but neither will I give someone a free pass because of who they are married to.  You come on the show, you get judged on your own merits, same as any other guest actor. Long story short, they want the thingamajig I’ve forgotten the name of because I had a 6 hour watching break to work up to watching this scene and that was not nearly long enough. Jo doesn’t want to give it to them, and Sam and Dean pull angel blades on her.  She says she didn’t have it, Ruby does.

Where’s that gif.  Where the fuck is that gif?  Oh, found it…

This next scene, I just 😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬.  Okay, I can do this, woman’s up and presses play, weeping for what once was the entire time I’m watching.  

We get a pointless scene which as predicted, is nothing less than a gimmick, written only to have “the wives” on the show in the same episode and in the same scene.  I think this is the angriest I’ve ever been watching a show and we haven’t reached the point in the episode where Sam is reduced to a doorstopper.  Oh yes, that gem has still to come.  🤬😡🤬!!!

Somehow, even though Ruby is terrified of angels and Jo wasn’t on earth at the same time as Ruby, they somehow not only met, but worked together.  Jo says the vessel suits Ruby better than the blond.  Not in this household missy.  We stan the infinitely better Katie Cassidy (fine there might have been a childhood crush on watching reruns of her father that sways the debate in her favour slightly but that’s neither here nor there!).

Okay, no sorry.  I thought I could take one for the team, but I can’t. This entire scene would not ever have been made if the show was in the hands of a competent showrunner.  It’s just complete nonsense with absolutely no attempt by the writer to respect the audience or canon and not worth even documenting what happens as it’s all a crock of 💩. Do yourselves a favour and ignore it.  All you need to know is Ruby has the thingamajig they need. It was stashed somewhere in hell.

Back at the bunker, Jack has take out, lots and lots of take out; pizza (no pineapple), fried chicken, hot dogs, nachos, Chinese food… Waste of space joins him.  They talk about Jack not having a soul.  Jack says he understands why Sam and Dean were angered by what happened to Mary

Castiel: by what you did to Mary

He gets a pass for this line (and his name back briefly) because it needed to be said so he wasn’t a waste of space for once.

Jack sees things have changed, especially with Dean.  

I see a bit of chatter on this one.  I don’t understand the chatter.  Sam forgives people, this goes way back that he’s able to forgive people and not hold a grudge.  He’s had a darkness inside him his entire life, he’s had to fight against his nature to be who he is, so of course he’s going to be more forgiving, more understanding of someone he sees as being similar to him.  Add to the fact that Sam did not build a strong relationship with Mary - he’s sad she’s gone - but I think he’s more accepting of it than Dean. All of this has been shown in episodes, so when Jack asks, “Will he ever forgive me?”  He’s not asking about Sam because he knows through Sam’s words and actions that Sam has forgiven him, but he knows Dean hasn’t.  I don’t have an issue with this, and you know I’m a bitter Sam fan, I’ll reserve my anger for later in the episode.

So, for me, waste of space only talks about Dean for the same reason (and shockingly not because he’s gay for the human).  He says, “Dean, he feels things more acutely than any human I’ve ever known, so it’s possible he can work through this. One day he may explode, let it all out and breath deeply and move on.”

Jack asks how long that will take. waste of space says he doesn’t know.

I understand the point of the scene, it’s not the worst. I’d prefer if my boys were saving people, hunting things obviously, but this was an okay scene.  I do like Alex and what he brings to the table – though don’t like when too much focus is put on him or Sam’s relationship with him is sidelined.

Sam and Dean return to the bunker.  Dean asks if Sam’s sure they can swing this again.  Sam says they still have Rowena’s notes from the spell. Dean: Okay, Samwitch, lets do this.”  I love how Dean hates witches, he was still wary of Rowena though could see her uses, but the minute Sam is a witch, Dean’s all aboard the witch train. 😂

Waste of space appears, Dean tells him that they sorta know where the occultum is.  Waste of space looks worried and they know something is wrong. They follow him through the bunker to one of the rooms.  Their AU selves are projected on the wall.  I just… Why was the entire episode not their doppelgängers?  I love them. AU Dean screams (but we can’t hear him). AU Sam seems far more relaxed about the situation.  They can’t see or hear our Sam or Dean.  Sam asks waste of space where they are.

Waste of space thinks the blast trapped them between dimensions as the rift and their world was destroyed.  AU Dean tapping on the wall, and trying to get a cell phone signal, I just can’t… 😂

Dean: Are they in pain? Waste of space doesn’t think so.  Dean says “Good” goes to leave.  Sam tries to stop him.  Dean says they’ll deal with them, but first they have to go to hell. Waste of space: woah, you do?

Sam explains that’s where Jo said Ruby stashed the occultum

Waste of space: Ruby? The demon you were sexually intimate with?   Dean: Sexually intimate? Sam (strongly): Yes!

I’ve seen a lot of chatter on this one as well. Some claiming that Dean is questioning the choice of wording by waste of space.  I don’t see that.  I see this as another fail, that they are somehow trying to claim Dean doesn’t know Sam and Ruby had a sexual relationship, even though Sam went into it in explicit detail in “I know what you did last summer”, to the point Dean asked him to stop.  If they were going for the choice of wording, they failed in both facial expressions and dialogue.

They have a discussion, not worth repeating, too much focus on waste of space. Upshot is Sam and Dean are going to Hell.  

Sam and Dean arrive on the Charmed set in Hell.  I’m expecting them to meet Julian McMahon striding down the corridor.  They meet a demon who informs them that Rowena is hosting a reception for newly condemned souls.  The demon doesn’t seem happy about that. He starts taking them to Rowena.  This is a pretty pointless scene tbh.

Back in the bunker, waste of space says to Jack that he doesn’t trust Jo’s story, he wants to speak to Ruby who apparently is in the empty.  I’m losing it with where entities end up these days. I’m guessing if demons are exorcised, like Meg was, then they go back to Hell.  If they are killed permanently, like Alastair was by Sam, they end up in the Empty?   I guess it makes sense.

Anyway, waste of space needs Jack’s assistance to get to the empty. He needs Jack to kill him…

Damn, false alarm, it’s only an “almost kill”.  Yeah, I would probably be too thorough.  Okay Jack, carry on, you’re up.

I don’t understand how he’ll be able to do anything in the empty, won’t he be kept in a state of nothing?

Jack reminds waste of space that the empty doesn’t like him. Waste of space says he’s far from happy so he should be okay.

Jack: Cass, I, I may not have a soul, but I know killing you is wrong, what if I screw up? Waste of space: well then, I’ll be lost forever… but I think you’ll do fine.

Jack has to draw out most of waste of space’s life force into a flask, and keep an eye on him so he doesn’t die for real. He also has to tend the spell to ensure Sam and Dean are not lost in Hell forever either (but to me it seems really easy to get in and out of, not like the early days so don’t see them being stuck there as a problem).  Remember back in season 2 when hell was this...

Sam: Hell is like, um ... (punches Dean)... well, it's like hell, even for demons. (punches Dean again)... It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. 

Good times.  Now we have Barbie!Hell and anyone can just walk in and it isn’t scary.  But yeah, tell me again that I should stop being critical and the show hasn’t deteriorated beyond all recognition

Sam and Dean follow the lackey they met in Hell to where Rowena is hosting a meet and greet for the new arrivals to Hell.  Or at least that’s where they were supposed to be taken, turns out it’s a trap. Of course, it is, because dumchesters 🙄, but at least we get a decent fight out of it as they are set upon by three demons carrying angel blades.  Dean kills two, Sam holds the third hostage so they can find out who betrayed them. Unsurprisingly it was Jo 🙄 Sam then kills the demon (after Dean gives a nod to do so).

Dean: that bitch set us up!

We switch to sister Jo and see her packing up and leaving, so she must know her plan failed, and Sam and Dean will soon be after her.

We’re now in The Empty with waste of space and for sure as shit, this scene changing whiplash, disregard of canon, lack of continuity between other episodes, focus on side characters has to mean this is a suck-lemons episode. He’s shouting for Ruby.  He doesn’t get her, we hear, “Hello Clarence”

Waste of space spins around and it’s Meg!  He’s so happy to see her and disappointed that it’s the empty. No offence to Rachel, love her, she does great in the episode and Megstiel will always be canon, but just not interested in any of this.

Next scene is waste of space and Ruby.  Fast forwarding other than to say no sweetie, Sam didn’t kill you, but I don’t blame you, I blame the writers who are too lazy to do any research. Sam should have killed you, but it was Dean that did it.  

Another scene between Ruby and Jo, as forgettable as the first.   Lucifer and Michael weren’t circling their vessels when you were still breathing you morons.   Lucifer hadn’t yet been released, but what is canon on this show when you can blast it aside and have the wives in a scene together and isn’t it wonderful?  Eh, I’m gonna say hard no on that one.

Another scene between Ruby and waste of space. In true Ruby style, she’ll help him if he gets her out of the empty.  Oh, and the occultum is a place, not a thing, that’s all we need to know.

Fast forwarding all of this as it’s pandering trite, not worthy of my time, besides the dumbchesters are back from Hell and I think Jack might be in trouble with them.

Jack (guilty): Guys… you’re back Dean (looking between Jack and waste of space’s body): Jack? What the hell?

Severe whiplash alert!  We’re back with Ruby and waste of space. Ruby monologues that the Empty is a place where all you do is dream about your regrets over and over for eternity.  Well then, just as well I have no regrets in life, other than watching seasons 12-14 of Supernatural.  Wait, imagine that on repeat for eternity.  NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Waste of space says he knows.  In fairness to waste of space, at least he will have a vast range of playbacks on the amount of regrets he should have over the years, so he won’t get bored anytime soon.

Whiplash alert!  We’ve left the corned beef actors and are back with the porterhouse steak.  They advance on Jack.

Jack: He’s dead, kind of… for now Sam: What?!

Whiplash!  Get me back to the porterhouse damn it!   Waste of space agrees to try to get Ruby out, she whispers in waste of space’s ear, “the occultum, it’s…”

Whiplash!  I’m suing at this point in the episode tbh.  

Jack: Cass went to the empty, hopefully to find Ruby, hopefully to find out where this occultum thing is located, hopefully (puppy eyes)

Whiplash!  Ruby steps away and disappears.  Waste of space’s face is interesting, and I’m intrigued where it is.

Whiplash!  

Sam and Dean’s faces. 😂

Sam: that’s way too many hopefullys! Dean: Bring him back, now!

Okay Hellers, here’s a test.  If Sam had said that line, would you have interpreted it as Sam speaking as a parent or Sam concerned about waste of space because he’s secretly in love with him? Dean is obviously concerned, but he’s speaking to Jack as a parent.  

Jack opens the flask to release waste of space’s grace.  But The Empty (still in Meg’s form) is reluctant to let him go.  Turns out as she’s torturing waste of space that The Empty has a deal with Death, she helps Death and she can go back to sleep when Death’s plan works.  We alternate between waste of space being tortured and Jack trying to revive him.

Dean: come on, wake up pal. Dean: Come on Cass, come on Dean: Cass!

Pandering!  

Waste of space wakes up.  The Empty says, “see you soon”

I hope she does because yes, I love watching a show where my leads are made out to be dumbasses and the waste of space that should have been killed off years ago is the hero.  I’m losing count of how many episodes that’s happened this season. Sick of it. 🤬

Waste of space (looks at Dean): you made it back Dean: Yeah, and so did you!  You’re an idiot by the way! Sam chimes in: What if this hadn’t worked?

Waste of space says it did [work].  The occultum was never in Hell.  The occultum is the safest place in the world. Jo was never going to give that up. Waste of space knows where it is and asks, “Am I still an idiot?”

I’m actually so angry right now.  Who does this?  What shitty writer makes their lead cast look like idiots in order to big up a side character. What does he have on someone because I’m at a loss for any other logical explanation at this point for them willingly ruining the show.

Anyway, Dean says “well yeah”. Me: hell to the fuck yeah, you’re still an idiot and I hate you even more after this episode than I did before.

Sam wants to go to the place.

Jack reminds them if Chuck checks in on them and sees what they’re doing, they’ll lose.

Dean’s plan involves using their doppelgängers to pretend to be them.  They’ll open up a rift and he thinks waste of space’s grace will be enough to pull them through. Sam thinks it might also blast them to another world.

AU Sam and Dean are playing rock, paper, scissors.  AU Sam throws scissors and wins.  AU Dean’s reaction. 😂

Sam mixes up the spell for the portal and they place it at the wall where AU Sam and Dean are trapped.  Bright light later and…

… it obviously works because AU Sam and AU Dean are now sitting at the map table with a beer in front of each of them.  Our Sam and Dean are currently standing.  And I cannot do any justice to this scene.  It is perfect from start to finish.  Go watch the genius of Jared and Jensen at play with no one else cluttering up the scene.

Upshot of this scene is that AU John is (or was) alive, they got separated coming through the portal. He spoils them, (Dean: he spoils you?!) John has set up a very successful business called Huntercorp. They get paid (Dean: you get paid?!) for hunting monsters all over the world and have a private jet.  I would ask what they’re doing driving around in a Fiat 500 instead of a luxury car, but I’m having too much fun, so it gets a free pass and I won’t nitpick.  Let’s headcanon it’s all they could get a hold of to get through the rift and leave it at that.  They keep toasting their beers to their dad, “the best guy ever” but they don’t seem too cut up that he and their world have gone splody.  I love these versions, they seem to be fine they made it through and they have each other.  I’d like to see one without the other as I think they’d give our brothers a run for their money in the codependency stakes.  

AU Sam’s pinkie is raised while he drinks, and I can’t with the silent genius that is Jared Padalecki when he inhabits a character.

Our Sam and Dean during all of this. 😂.

Dean explains to the AU’s that they need them to pose as them for a while.   In order to do that, Sam tells his AU self he has to lose the man bun.  AU Sam’s reaction 😂.  He is not happy.  AU Dean closes his eyes and sits back, putting a hand over his mouth.  I thought at first he wasn’t happy at our Sam, but no, the reaction is because he knows how his Sam reacts about his hair (*whispers* I suspect AU Dean has suggested many times that AU Sam let his hair down… for reasons and AU Sam has refused, so its an old argument).  Sure enough, AU Sam says he will not.  Our boys ignore that and also tactfully suggest they will need to change their clothes.

Next, we see the impala at night, driving towards a church. All TFW 2.0 are in the car. 🙄

They walk up to the church doors and Jack says he knows he hasn’t been doing this as long as them, but doesn’t it seem too easy.

They agree and at that moment hear a growling.  

Jack: is that a bear?

Dean starts trying to get the church doors open by picking the lock

Sam: No, it’s more like uh… Waste of space: hellhounds Sam (as the hellhounds are approaching): Dean… Dean, you wanna hurry a little bit?

Dean gets the door open and they all get inside just in time. Sam and Dean get the door closed and Dean asks Sam if he’s got it.  I’ve seen a lot of chatter on this one. This scene alone highlights one of the many, many things wrong with the show and why it’s no longer enjoyable.  I think they were trying for ha ha comedy. Sam trying to keep the door closed while they are all standing around like idiots, but it isn’t funny and reduces Sam down to muscle rather than what he actually brings to the show, and both waste of space and Jack are stronger. 

Waste of space should have been holding the door (or not been there at all, which is preferable) and the scene should have been Sam, Dean and Jack.  No excuses for why it wasn’t done this way (other than pandering).  A line of pandering is annoying but acceptable, sidelining Jared to cater an entire scene to them is completely unncceptable. You’ve pissed off the Jared/Sam fans which are many more than Misha/Castiel (despite what they try to tell themselves), and you’ve pissed off the brother fans which are the majority of the audience.

Waste of space says the top of the cross points the way and they all look up at the cross high on the church wall.

As a side note, the Hellers are so cute, counting Sam and Dean standing in a church with their “son” as their wedding.  Refrains from slapping 8.23 down in front of them where Dean actually said some vows along the lines of “don’t you ever dare think there is anything past or present that I would put in front of you!” 😍

Sam (being paid $250k for this): Guys! Can you maybe move it along?

That’s not the cross they are looking for, because at that point, clouds miraculously clear outside, allowing moonlight to shine through a window and highlights an area on the church floor.  I mean I like that x marks the spot but I’m not sure about time of day/year and position in the sky etc. to know if this is realistic, like will it still be the exact same spot at 6pm in December as it is midnight in summer?

Jack points it out to them and Dean bends down to open the floorboard.  

Sam: Guys, I can’t hold them forever!

Dean lifts the floorboard which contains a velvet bag. He opens the bag and pulls out a golden snitch.  He hands it to waste of space and asks if it’s a map. Jack suggests it might be a key.   Waste of space reads the enochian passage on the golden snitch (which if he hadn’t been written into this scene, Sam could have done that).  

Golden Snitch: in order to be in the occultum, the occultum must be in you. Me (immediately): swallow it!

There’s a reason Sam’s holding the doors closed as he’d have got that within a second.  The others are just looking around dumbly. 🙄

Back with AU Winchesters and AU Sam, wearing plaid, man bun still in place, is watching “powderpuff princess and friends” channel on the laptop, which seems to be about kittens. 😂   AU Dean appears carrying two beers

Au!Dean: they said lose the man bun, Samuel (love that he goes by Samuel) Me: Wow, AU Dean really wants Sam to let his hair down…for reasons AU Sam: look, hillbilly clothes are bad enough, I have to draw the line somewhere and my hair… is sacred (Jared added this 😂)

AU!Dean rolls his eyes, denied once again.

AU Sam asks what they do now.  AU Dean says, drink beer and sit in front of a computer screen

AU Sam: that’s their lives?  He’s still drinking the beer with the pinkie out. 😂. Chuck would know straight away this wasn’t Sam and Dean. Sam’s face drinking the beer. 😂 He’s high maintenance for sure.  AU Dean is much less fussy and I think would adapt quite well to the new world.

AU!Dean has found our Dean’s bustyasianbeauty.com internet history. 😂  

AU Sam: Can you imagine if dad caught us with that kind of stuff?  Goodbye trust funds.

AU!Sam’s not interested in the ladies and I don’t think he’s happy that AU Dean is either.

AU!Dean: I gotta tell you Sammy, this Sam and Dean, you know, sure they’re simple, but they’ve got this place of their own, there’s no quarterly reports, there’s no investor calls, there’s nothing to do but hunt monsters, drink beer and watch porn. AU!Sam: Yeah AU!Dean: they’ve got it made

Switch to our Sam and he’s really struggling with keeping the hellhounds out, while waste of space and Dean are arguing is another pandering scene (which has already had at least four in the episode). It’s been written solely to please the 1%ers who no doubt will create thousands of tweets from their 200 accounts with “old married couple and their son.” 

These people are incapable of looking at characters and continuity, they don’t care if it’s likely a character will do something just as long as they get content for their ship.  But I care, the majority of the audience care.  The Dean we know and love would just not under any circumstances abandon Sam at the door on his own.  This is where the writing is failing.  If they are incapable of writing a scene that makes sense in the bigger scheme of things, that doesn’t change the standard operating procedure of one of the two leads, then it has no place in the show.  I could have written a scene between waste of space and Dean that would have given the 1%ers more than enough fodder (they get excited over lamps, it wouldn’t be that hard to do), while at the same time, not ruining Dean’s core character or sidelining Sam to be a doorstopper for an entire fucking scene. Besides, all the old married couples I know are old and still married because they never argue, they finish each other sentences and smile fondly at their idiot other half when they do something idiotic, because it’s their idiot.  Kind of like… Sam and Dean.

Jack ignores them as much as I do, he turns away while they are still arguing. When he turns back, Dean looks at him, 

Dean: “Where’s the thing?” Jack: I ate it Dean: You What?! Jack: well, he said it had to be in me… so… Dean (internally) Sammy’s going to fucking kill me. (Externally) No! spit it out! Jack (laughing): it’s fine, nothings happening

Something’s definitely happening as Jack doubles over in pain.  Sam can only watch helplessly from the door as a bright light erupts from within Jack and then he disappears.

Again, that scene would have been infinitely more watchable if waste of space hadn’t been shoved into the space Sam should have been, but no, he’s still holding a fucking door closed.  I shit you not. 😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬😡🤬😡🤬🤬🤬!

Jack wakes up in what we find out is the garden of Eden.  The creepy little girl from Angel approaches him.  “You must not be human, humans may not enter here, are you an angel?”  Jack says it’s complicated but asks why humans can’t be here. She says they were banished, and god hid the garden away from them. Jack says he was told the place might change him somehow.  She responds that it might if he’s the chosen one. He’ll know soon enough.  She leaves him alone.  I’m speculating at this point that Jack isn’t the right person, but Sam is.

We whiplash briefly back to the church.  Yes, my fellow Sam fans, Sam is still a $250k doorstopper while waste of space and Dean continue to argue.  This isn’t good drama for anyone.  Dean is completely ooc in not helping Sam.

Harry Potter Jack meets the garden of Eden snake.  Luckily Jack can understand parcel-tongue as the snake talks to him. Who are you really? Who are you meant to be?

We get various flashbacks, none of which show Sam all that much, and I think that’s deliberate, though badly done.  The one person Jack has never had to question until the malac box was Sam.  I still maintain that Jack knows Sam forgives him and loves him unconditionally, but he knows Dean doesn’t, which is why the focus was on Dean.  The annoyance would have been much less if Sam hadn’t been a doorstopper in place of a significantly lesser character.

Anyway, Jack collapses on the ground and he’s crying by the end of it.  Same Jack, same tbh.

Back at the church, a bright ball of light comes through the cross window and floats down towards the church floor, right in front of Sam before moving to hover between Sam and Dean (again if waste of space hadn’t been there, this would have been a much better scene).

Sam’s thrown away from the doors and lands on the floor. Dean rushes forward to stand in front of his brother… oh wait, no, that’s in my version, the suck-lemons version has Dean actually take a step back, while the hellhounds advance on Sam who is closest to them.  Like he literally doesn’t move a fucking inch, and people are asking why we are unhappy?  Who the fuck was that, because it wasn’t Dean Winchester. 😡

The bright light gets brighter, I think it kills the hellhounds, rather than just repels them.  When the light clears, Sam sees Jack lying on the floor in front of him. He says “Jack” which draws the attention of Dean who shouts “Jack”.  Oh, that gets Dean’s feet moving 🙄.  They watch as Jack sits up and Dean asks him if he’s okay.  Jack doesn’t answer.

Back with Dean and AU!Winchesters.  Dean’s trying to herd them out the bunker, thanking them for their help.  AU!Dean suggests they could all live in the bunker together.

AU!Sam: like a club (AU!Dean points at Sam in agreement).

Our Dean doesn’t share his toys very well and thinks that would just be weird.

AU!Dean (he definitely wants our Sam, with the whole hair down thing he’s got going on): it wouldn’t be so weird

Dean knows what AU!Dean wants and tells them to go to Brazil

AU Dean asks if they can keep the flannel shirts, Dean says no, and tries to hurry them along.

AU Sam and Dean turn to go, but AU!Dean turns back and says that when they were looking around, they saw it

Dean: It? AU!Dean: the car Dean: You didn’t…. touch it AU!Sam: We “drove” in it 😉 Dean: You What?!

Awkward looks all around until AU!Dean says, “And we’re leaving…” smacking AU!Sam on the shoulder and pushing him up the bunker stairs.

AU!sam: oww, my arm, you’re hurting me!” AU!Dean: Sam! AU!Sam: Dean… Dean (angry): Have fun in Rio!

I like the scene so I’m trying not to nitpick the fact the car was with our Sam and Dean and the AU versions couldn’t possibly have found it, much less “drove” in it.

Dean goes to find Sam who is leaning on the wall outside I’m guessing Jack’s room.  He asks if the kid is okay.  Sam says he doesn’t know.  Waste of space comes out and says Jack seems to have recovered but there’s something different about him.  No one’s been to the garden since the exile, until Jack.

They all go in, yes, even waste of space, and it turns out it wasn’t Jack’s room, but the kitchen and I have to seriously question why Sam - who is unquestionably Jack’s main parent - was outside and not with him. *whispers Jared has obviously done something or not done something to bring the petty wrath of Dabb down upon his beautiful head, no other explanation at this point. Roll on Walker and Jared ensuring that show doesn’t get stolen out from under him by a backstabbing co-worker and petty showrunner.

They approach Jack and he says he is so sorry.  He is crying and says it was his fault.

Waste of space says Jack’s soul is back.

Jack looks up at Sam and Dean and asks them to forgive him but the camera focuses in only on Dean.  Pats my fellow Sam fans consolingly on their heartbroken backs.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch35: Not A Perfect Soldier, But A Good Man

Summary: Almost twelve moths post the vents in Siberia, the four friends are reunited with two familiar faces. Presented with an opportunity that they find too good to turn down, they find themselves back running missions off radar, one of which takes Steve to a dark place within himself, where he finds himself compromising his moral code. 

And then his phone rings...

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW)- it gets a little dark here. No Non-Con or anything like that, just a bit. well, rough for want of a better word!  NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N- SSK O/S- Vanilla takes place within this chapter....

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

June 2017

“Well as far as birthdays on the run go guys, this one’s been the best one I’ve ever had!” Katie grinned as they climbed out of the Freelander by the Safe house.

Steve and Sam exchanged a look over the roof of the car.

“What?” Katie asked, innocently.

“I can’t tell if that was sarcasm or…” Sam looked at Steve before he turned back to Katie pushing his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. “No, honestly guys I’ve had a great morning.” she smiled at them. “Breakfast was amazing, it was a nice walk round the castle, the sun is out and now we have a BBQ to get fired up!”

It was almost a year now since they’d been on the run. After a brief few months apart where Katie and Steve had been in Wakanda, Sam had been flitting round a few old friends and Wanda had been travelling with Vision, they had all reunited at the end of May, Wanda bringing with her some rather interesting news.

“I did find some stuff out.” she said, looking round the table as they ate “Apparently Tony hasn’t spoken to Ross properly in months. When you guys broke out the raft, Ross called him for help and he put him on hold for hours.” Katie looked at Steve, both of them sharing a grin.

“It didn’t go down well. They had a huge bust up and apparently Tony told him to err, and I quote ‘go fuck himself’.” Wanda said, smiling slightly. Steve snorted as she continued “Said he didn’t answer to SHIELD, the Government or anyone else.”

A pang of affection and guilt hit Katie’s chest. Even after everything her brother was still watching her back. She looked down at her food and blinked, the tears threatening to fall out of her eyes.

“He’s err, he and Pepper, they’re getting married.“ Wanda hesitated and Katie took a deep breath.

“Wow, he finally did it.” she whispered, not looking up as she pushed a piece of carrot round her plate, swallowing thickly. “That’s…”

“How’s Rhodes?” Sam asked, changing the subject swiftly and Steve gave him a look of thanks across the table, as he gently reached over and wrapped his hand around the back of Katie’ s neck, giving it a gentle squeeze of affection before his thumb gently began to trace shapes on the soft skin just beneath her hair line. She looked at him and smiled. 

“I’m okay.” she assured him “Honestly.”

Steve kept his hand were it was nonetheless as Wanda continued talking.

“Rhodey is good, the braces he has mean he can walk.” At that Sam looked down, Steve glanced at him. He knew he felt guilty about what had happened.

“And that’s it really.” Wanda shrugged. “Nothing else to report.”

“Glad to hear everyone’s doing good.” Katie nodded. “So you want to see Vision again?”

“I know it might seem odd, or even dangerous.” Wanda mused, “And we’re still at odds over the Sokovia Accords, but yeah, I do..” “Odds?” Steve asked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he still seems to think that the Accords were right. So, we’ve kind of just agreed not to talk about them. But, even with that, well I just can’t be without him.”

“We love who we love.” Steve said wisely, “If we’re lucky they share our feelings as well as our lives.”

“Like you two you mean?” Sam snorted looking at Steve and Katie “You two are so in tune, sometimes I think you’re actually reading each, others minds.” “How do you know we’re not?” Katie grinned and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Like I said, lucky.” Steve shrugged, pressing a kiss to the side of Katie’s head as he moved his arm from around the back of her and carried on with his food.

“No one should keep you from him if that’s how you feel.” Katie looked at Wanda. “That’s the last thing we would ever want.”

“Yeah you go ahead.” Sam said, pulling Katie’s attention back to the here and now “We’ll grab the bags, don’t worry about it.” “Thanks Sam, you’re a darling.” Katie grinned over her shoulder.

Sam sighed and shook his head. “A fucking liberty, that’s what this is!”

“You should know her well enough by now Sam.” Steve chuckled as he watched the two women head unlock the door to the house “it’s her Birthday, and she’ll use that excuse all day.”

”it feels like she’s been using it all week.” Sam grumbled before he turned and opened the trunk of the car. 

In the house, Katie walked through the small porch and into the living room and immediately stilled. There was something wrong, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Holding an arm out to Wanda she stopped the younger girl and looked at her. Understanding straight away, Wanda’s familiar red tendrils began glowing from her hands. As Katie looked around, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something was there, her eyes fell on a bottle on the coffee table, a bottle that hadn’t been there when they left this morning.

Beluga gold line vodka.

Katie felt her lips curve into a smile "You can come out now.” she said, not turning round. “I thought spies were supposed to be subtle.”

“Who says I was trying to be?” a familiar voice drawled, causing Wanda to spin round, her mouth falling open in surprise as Natasha stepped out of the smaller living room at the far side of the house.  

Katie turned and looked her friend over. “That why you cut all your hair off and dyed it blonde?”

“Changes is as good as the next.” Nat smirked.

“Good to see you Widow.” Katie beamed, striding over to her and pulling her into a hug.

“You too.” Natasha smiled, squeezing her back. “Happy birthday, Nova.”

Katie released her and Nat turned to Wanda, wrapping her up in a hug too. “I’m telling you man.” Sam’s voice filled the room as he and Steve walked into the house each carrying bags of groceries and snacks for their BBQ “She was putty in my hands. If he hadn’t turned up I’d have-MOTHER FUCKER!” he yelled, dropping the bags he was carrying as he spotted Natasha.

“Nice to see you too, Birdbrain.” she smiled before her face turned to Steve “Rogers.” “Nat.” he blinked in surprise, setting the bags he was carrying down a little more gently. “Dare I ask how you knew where to find us?” the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, amused smile “Fury.” she shrugged. “Finished the loose ends I needed to tie up and had to make a swift exit, so he told me where you were. Thought I’d come and see how you were all getting along.” “We’re just peachy.” Sam smiled as he stepped forward opening his arms, “Come on not-so-red-anymore, bring it in.” She gave a huff and then stepped into his arms before she turned to Steve who smiled at her as he pulled her into a huge bear hug.

“I like this.” she leaned back, pulling at his beard and he irritated moved his head way out of her reach, arching an eyebrow at her. What was it with people and thinking they could just touch his face now he had a beard? No, there was only one woman allowed to do that. Katie laughed, noticing his irritation as Natasha continued “Hardly recognised you.” “Well that is the point.” he sighed, rolling his eyes

“Are you sticking around?” Sam asked.

“Well I got nothing else to do.” Nat shrugged. Katie and Steve exchanged a grin, her blasé tone didn’t fool them. She looked tired and slightly shaken, so whatever mission she’d been working on had clearly been tough.

“Well in that case...” Katie picked up the bottle of vodka that was on the table. “How about we crack this open whilst the boys get the grill going?”

A couple of hours later they were full of BBQ meat, salads, potatoes, vodka, beer and juicy information. Whilst Natasha didn’t tell them much about what she had been up to in Russia, she did fill them in on what SHIELD was doing. 

“They’re calling themselves the 'In-Human Resistance’.” Natasha explained as she showed them a few photos of the growing Vigilante group on a tablet, a group that seemed to be fast gaining traction in America. “They staged an attack in LA and Miami recently. Both at the same time, co-ordinated.”

“They’re fighting registration with the Sokovia Accords?” Steve asked, taking a pull from his bottle of beer.

Natasha nodded.

“Those damned accords have already caused more trouble than they’re ever gonna solve.” Sam said shaking his head. “First the ‘Watchdogs’ emerge to fight In-Humans, now this group emerge to fight them back.”

“This was always going to happen. SHIELD monitored Enhanced beings and In-humans.”  Katie shrugged “And it worked without the need for any stupid laws.”

”Yeah, so now the plan is that SHIELD are going to go legit. Come out into the open again.”

At that Katie raised her eyebrows. “And Coulson?” “No.” Natasha said, “Coulson will be in the shadows, the public director is going to be a bloke called Jeffrey Mace. He seems a decent guy.” “You know him?” Katie asked.

“Met him briefly. He was at the Accord signings in Vienna as a journalist would you believe it?” “Well he will know how to work the PR angle.” Wanda spoke for the first time in a while and Katie looked at her. She was pushing a piece of potato round on her plate, absentmindedly, no doubt wondering what would happen to her if she ever was caught with all the new rules and hatred being pushed out towards Enhanced or In-humans.

“They’re calling him Patriot.” Natasha said, and she looked at Steve, smirking slightly “Brooklyn boy, just like you Cap. Volunteered for some experiment that would give him super human strength in the wake of the Vienna bombing.” Steve let out a groan “Have SHIELD not learnt anything?”

“You had a lucky escape.” Nat quipped “If you hadn’t been on the run, they’d have been asking you to lead them from the front. Coulson wanted an enhanced person to run in the public eye, drum up support, show the world that they’re not to be feared.” “Nothing more than bullshit, political games.” Sam scoffed, and Natasha raised her eyebrows in agreement.

“Which we, thankfully, are well out of.” Steve leaned back, although Katie could see the nerve ticking in his jaw.

“Are you? Thankful, I mean?” Nat asked and Steve looked at her, frowning. “You not missing being in the thick of it at all?” He didn’t answer. If truth be told he couldn’t, not really. Some days he missed the action, missed having a job to do as such. Whilst he’d helped out occasionally for a bit for cash at the harbour, casual labour and muscle when they needed it, it wasn’t nearly challenging enough.

“What are you saying Nat?” Katie asked. Natasha sighed and leaned back.

“Fury isn’t working as part of SHIELD at the moment, not directly anyway.” she looked at her. “He’s running a few jobs off radar. At the moment he’s currently tracking a few old arms dealers that seem to be back trading old SHIELD and Chitauri stuff. Turns out in the wake of the Avengers being disbanded they all started getting brave again.” “Who’d have thought it?” Katie snorted sarcastically as she chewed at her lip. Steve and her had held this very conversation in Wakanda, wondering how long it would be before the groups they had all but eradicated emerged again in the wake of their split.

“So is that why you’re here?” Steve eyed her suspiciously “Fury wants you to recruit us?” “No.” Nat shook her head, before she smiled at Steve. “He’s going to do that himself when he drops by tomorrow.”

*****

"Why don’t you ask one of the ‘registered heroes’ for help?” Steve raised his eyebrows at Fury as the man finished explaining what he wanted the group to work on.

Fury scoffed. “Whilst SHIELD is of course, in full cooperation with the Accords, this case isn’t exactly on their radar right now.”

“What you mean is, that if it becomes public knowledge that more Chitauri and SHIELD weapons are emerging it will damage what little reputation SHIELD have managed to claw back.” Katie folded her arms. “Because they shouldn’t have ever let it get to this by getting rid of it all in the first place.” she sighed, “You know, I’m sure we’ve had this conversation before.”

“Look, Nova.” Fury was quick to reply. "I don’t like this any more than you do, and yes, in hindsight there are a lot of things that SHIELD should have destroyed or shut down back in the day, but I wasn’t the only one making those calls. Pierce had a lot of sway.”

“So effectively you want us to protect SHIELD’s reputation?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Why should we do that?” Wanda asked, looking at Fury “Where were you when we needed you?”

“She has a point.” Sam looked at Fury “I mean, I don’t remember SHIELD jumping to our defence after we risked everything to get to Siberia.”

Fury looked at Steve who simply raised his eyebrows. Both he and Katie agreed with Sam, they had expected at least some help from the Director but it never came. 

Or so they thought.

“Just who do you think it was that leaked to the press exactly what went down between you all?” Fury asked, leaning back in his chair. Katie felt her mouth curl up in a smile.

“That was you? Huh, I assumed it was Murdock.” “Well to assume makes an ass of you and me.” Fury quipped, looking at her. “Furthermore, thanks to me there’s currently a group of bounty-hunters sweating their asses off looking for you all in Cairo.”

Steve and Katie exchanged glances before they looked at Sam then Wanda.

“And I’ll continue to help leave false trails as I still believe in you all.” Fury looked at them each in turn “The Accords, this entire situation, yes, it’s a mess but I’m still hoping you guys care enough to want to keep fighting the good fight.”

Katie glanced at Natasha who had remained quiet through the entire discussion. She simply raised an eyebrow and gave a small smile.

“Think about it.” Fury stood up. “Romanoff knows how to contact me. When you’ve made your decision, let me know.”

He headed for the door before he turned back and looked at Katie.

“Oh, and Nova, that final trick you pulled, hacking into the CTU.” he said, and it took her a moment to remember what she’d done, but when she did looked at him expectantly “It worked.”

Katie smiled and gave a small ‘huh’ of laughter and watched the man depart through the same door he’d arrived little over an hour previously.

“Ok, I’m curious. What did you hack the UN for?” Natasha looked at Katie and Steve tilted his head as his wife gave a coy smile.

“I didn’t, it was Lawson. When he was digging up the information on the illegal arrests I had him wipe all the records of who accessed their evidence vault when all our gear got broken out went missing so Sharron didn’t get into trouble.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up into a small smile as he looked at his wife, once again unable to believe how downright clever she was.

“Wait.” Wanda said, frowning “Why did you do that?” “She’s a Carter.” Katie shrugged as if that was supposed to make sense. And it did to Steve and Natasha but as Sam and Wanda looked at her blankly she took a deep breath and explained “After everything Peggy did in the SSR, founding SHIELD, working with my dad, she deserves for her name and legacy to remain unsullied.”

She locked eyes with Steve who could do nothing but simply look at her, his face soft before he smiled “You really are amazing you know that?”

After an afternoon spent deliberating over Fury’s proposal, Steve told them all to sleep on it and they would make their final decision in the morning, but as he found out at 3 am, sleep was doing it’s very best to evade him completely.    

“Something on your mind soldier?” Katie murmured sleepily as he turned over in bed for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. With a sigh he reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to wake you.” he said. “I just can’t get what Fury said outta my head.” “And even after I tried my best to make you forget as well.” she quipped and he smiled, leaning over to give her a soft kiss. She gave a soft hmmm of contentment before he pulled away and propped himself up on his elbow

"What do you think we should do?”

“Well, we could ignore it, keep laying low.” she elaborated, with a small yawn “But I know you. And whilst you’ve managed it for a year it hasn’t been easy, and don’t try and pretend you’ve been okay because I know you Steven.” He gave a small snort and looked at her as she continued “And now you know that there’s still stuff to mop up, you’re gonna find it even harder to walk away.”

"I would for you. You know that.”

“But is that what you really want?” she sighed. “Not particularly, no.” he answered honestly. “I want to help but, well, I’m no longer Captain America.“

"Meh, he was an asshole anyway.” she grinned and he gave a snort. “But you ARE Steve Rogers the and I quote your best friend here ‘the dumbass little blonde punk that couldn’t run away from a fight.” Steve felt himself smile at Bucky’s words. “Long before the serum, long before the shield, you were standing up for the little guys, for what you thought was right. Okay, you were getting your ass kicked doing it, but still.”

She shrugged and Steve looked down at the silhouette of her face, and he knew she was right. He brought his hand up and with the back of his fingers gently brushed down her right cheek. 

“And you’d be okay with it?” he asked.

“Well, neither of us left the Avengers because we wanted to. So until this blows over…” “If it blows over.” “Steven.” she spoke sternly, and he could tell by the tone of her voice she was glaring at him, even if he couldn’t see her face fully. She was still clinging to some hope that the entire situation would go away, whereas Steve was much more a realist about it all.  “Until this blows over, then, maybe we could, or should keep fighting the good fight. Because that’s what we do best.”

“A band of vigilantes, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow. “Or if we’re getting paid are we mercenaries?”

“Pretty sure mercenaries don’t have ethics behind what they’re doing.” Katie snorted “No, we’ll be, erm, the ‘Nomad Law Enforcers’, NLE for short” she shrugged and he let out a laugh.

As his chuckles died down she gently reached up to stroke his face, his bearded cheek leaning into her touch.

“So, does that mean my new code name is Captain Badass, or Captain Sex Fiend?” he asked, his hand straying down to brush across her bare stomach.. “No” she said, smiling, twitching at the touch “Those are names only I get to say. Along with Stevie.” “Hate to break it to you darlin’ but Buck was calling me Stevie way before you were a twinkle in your pa’s eyes.” he said, his fingers now trailing the inside of her thigh. “Maybe so,” she snaked her arms round his neck and pulling his face down to hers, “but did he ever say it to you like I do, you know, in your ear as I’m about to c-”

“Err no.” he grinned, kissing her on the lips “That one’s all yours, doll.”

“Think you should make me say it now.” she quipped.

“As you wish, ma’am.” he smirked, rolling over on top of her, making her giggle before he cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a fevered kiss.

The next morning around breakfast they informed the rest of the team what their decision was. Natasha shrugged and said she was in already anyway. Wanda agreed as she had nothing else to do but in the same breath Katie could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea, so Steve told her that she could dip in and out and didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t happy about. When finally the only decision left was Sam’s, the man leaned back in his chair with a smirk and nodded. And whilst Steve thought the name Katie had come up with last night for their band of rag-tag heroes was ridiculous, it was ten times better than the offering Sam made.

“The Avengers Secret Society. ASS.” he grinned, draining his coffee mug “Where do I sign?”

******

Running the missions meant a lot of stealth and covert work, which in turn meant they had to leave the safe house they had called home for over a year for long periods, often months at a time. During those weeks they stayed either in motels or other safe houses which Fury or Natasha had access to in various places across the world as they intercepted various arms trades and took down both buyers and dealers alike. The rest of 2017 past them by in a blur now they were busy. Wanda dipped in and out, choosing sometimes to remain in the safe-house and others she would disappear to meet Vision but always kept them up to date on where she was so they could keep tracks on her. Katie was glad she was getting out and seeing the world, even if she did worry about her from time to time.

As far as lifestyles went, it was tough, hard going, but Katie could see Steve’s sparkle and drive was back in abundance. For the most the missions went without a hitch. Yes, they took knocks, broken noses, cut lips, bust ribs…but it came with the territory, and they all felt good to be back feeling like they were making a difference even if they were doing it unofficially from the shadows. And given that they were indeed vigilantes, they all removed any Avengers symbols from their suits to avoid Tony or the guys back at the compound being dragged into any further political row.

Katie and Natasha ditched their Avenger cat suits entirely, opting for leather cargo pants, jackets and combat vests whilst Sam acquired a new upper body suit for his now battered but sill functional wings. Steve had ripped the silver star on uniform from his chest, which was down to a combination of wanting to stay off radar but also because of the fact that he simply wasn’t Captain America anymore, and therefore wasn’t comfortable bearing his insignia. It just didn’t feel right to be operating wearing the symbols once used when they were part of their old team. They were a painful reminder of just what it was that had brought them to this moment, how much they had lost and given up because they were not the Avengers anymore. And this also reflected in the way they operated. They were a lot less sympathetic with their fighting style and they did what they needed to do to get the job done, no more, no less- “Whatever it takes…” as Steve put it. And whilst the Captain still did his best to keep the casualties and fatalities to the minimum, that went completely out of the window one February morning in Jordan. 

They were tracking a suspected group of ex- Hydra stragglers that were, according to Fury’s intelligence, operating a lab with the aim of using a piece of SHIELD technology to manufacture weapons. They’d staked the place out over the last 3 days or so, and from what they could gather it was a pretty amateur operation all in all, so they didn’t meet much resistance when they stormed the place. Sam and Natasha took one side of the building, Steve and Katie the other. It didn’t take them long to clear out and restrain the hostiles and they set about sweeping the place for any devices they needed to recover before Natasha made her way down to the lab to lay the bombs that would destroy it once everyone was clear.

Steve and Katie made their way down a smaller corridor of the back of the main room whilst Sam and Natasha started to pack up the items they had come for and they reached a fork at the end. Katie went left, Steve went right. He hit a dead end pretty quickly, there only being one more room and that was completely empty. Katie, however had three rooms to look in. The first two were empty, and the third one led off to another smaller room at the back. Scanning round, she assumed the room was clear and headed through into the smaller one, kicking the door open. There was nothing in there bar filing cabinets. Seeing as she was there, she started to pull them open to see if there was anything useful, but it was all older paper work, nothing of interest. Slamming the drawer shut she heard a noise behind her, the cock of a gun and then a voice which made her freeze.

“Back for more you little SHIELD slut?”

That voice took her right back to that painfully bright cell with the hard bed, and the even harder floor.

“You like that don’t you, yeah?” his face was contorted as he grunted whilst he pounded painfully, mercilessly into her over and over again, her wrists painfully held above her head, his weight pressing onto her battered and bruised body which he had played a major part in beating before having joined in the kicking and stamping with glee. “God, she’s so fuckin’ tight…”

She spun round to look at the man who had violated her numerous times, his face exactly the same, wearing the same predatory sneer. Her fists clenched at her side as she weighed up her options, she could probably take him now, even with the gun. But she had hesitated too long. He raised the gun at her, took half a step forward and automatically she stepped backwards, her body pressing against the metal of the filing cabinet.

“What? Still no scream?” he chuckled “You know, I have to say, I preferred it the first time we took you, when you put up a good fight. Then you stopped and, well, it kind of became a bit boring. I’ve had better lays from my palm…” It was then that Katie noticed a movement behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Steve stood in the doorway with a look on his face that Katie had never seen before. Unadulterated anger and rage and fury radiated from every single bit of his body as he stared at the back of the man’s head, his lips curling up into an ugly sneer. “Whatever happens tomorrow you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.”

Steve remembered those words like Dr Erskine had spoken them just yesterday. And for the most part he had lived by them, trying every day to be that good person. Years of loss and grief and fighting had made it hard but he had never killed in cold blood and, if possible he always went for the non-fatal take downs. But now, as he heard the words the man in front of him said to his wife as she stood, pressed against the cabinet at the far wall, her chest heaving, eyes wide with a hatred so fierce but yet an unmistakable glimmer of fear underneath it all, he knew exactly who this guy was.

This was one of the animals that had violated her. 

And he wanted to kill the fucker.

At the sight of her husband Katie instantly relaxed, she was safe. There was nothing the bastard in front of her could do to her, not whilst Steve was there. The man saw her change in posture, and frowned as she looked back at him and smirked slightly.

“You want a fight, it’s your lucky day, although I don’t fancy your chances much.” 

She nodded behind her and the man wheeled round fast but he didn’t’ even get chance to point his gun at Steve before the Super Soldier’s fist connected hard with his face, knocking out his front teeth. He staggered backwards and Katie was waiting with a well- aimed leg swipe which sent him crashing to the floor. As he went to push himself up Steve brought his large, boot clad foot down and stomped with all his might on his left hand.

”They broke my fingers and took my rings…”

Katie’s voice echoed around his mind as he stamped again, and again before he picked the Hydra agent up by the collar and smashed his head straight onto the desk.

The man lay groaning, crying even on the floor, begging for mercy and Steve allowed him to crawl a few feet away before he kicked him hard in the ribs, stalking him, toying with him, as a cat does with its prey. But like all cats, eventually Steve got bored and hauled him back up again, spun the snivelling piece of shit round so his back was clamped to Steve’s chest, one large forearm over his throat, palm of the other hand clamped on the man’s forehead, pinning him in place and forcing him to look at Katie.

All the anger he felt at how they had abused his wife, his beautiful girl speared red hot inside him as he remembered her recovery, all those nights he had held her close after she woke from a nightmare, swearing to himself about how he would die before he let anyone hurt her again. 

And he wanted her face to be the last thing the bastard’s shitty, Hydra supporting eyes ever looked at.

“She told me you did to her.” Steve’s voice was steely, as he spoke into the man’s ear. “You abused her, tortured her, beat her and laughed about it. But now who’s laughing? Look how alive, how strong she is. How she survived, which is more than you’re gonna do.”

At those words the man, who was groaning to himself began to struggle again, begging for his life. Steve merely tightened his grip.

“I want you to know that you dying is simply because of what you did to my wife. So fuck Hydra and fuck you.“ he snarled, and with a quick twist of his arms Katie heard the snap and the man grew limp, Steve tossing him unceremoniously to the floor having broken his neck in one, easy movement. Steve’s chest heaved as he looked down at the body on the floor.

He’d just killed someone in cold blood. But he didn’t care.

Katie watched her husband as he looked down at the dead man, utter disgust on his face and she felt a ridiculous surge of affection for her soldier. She knew he’d grappled with the fact he had, in his opinion, failed to keep her safe and no matter how many times she told him he was ridiculous she would never convince him otherwise. And now he’d just abandoned all moral code he had, killing someone out of no reason but for utter revenge because he loved her. 

He loved her enough to kill someone that had hurt her. As she watched he raised his head to look at her. "You ok?” He asked, his voice full of concern, not a shred of the anger or hatred it had been filled with before was left. She nodded.

“Come on.”  he said, holding out his hand. She stepped over the body on the floor, laced her fingers into his, but they hadn’t even reached the door of the outer room they’d walked through when she pulled on his arm and as he turned to face her she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, furiously kissing him, teeth clashing, beard scratching-fuck she loved the feel of that- as she emptied every single emotion she was feeling into his mouth. She pulled away and rest her head against his, desire flooding her system, some dark inner part of her had awoken at his merciless persona and he spotted it, a curious tilt of his head to the side told her so much. “Steve, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m filing for divorce.” He arched an eyebrow “Divorces are messy, we can’t have that.” and the words were barely out of his mouth before he had spun her round, slamming her against the wall, kissing her hard again, groaning as she grasped his growing erection through his combat trousers.

“Right here?” he growled and she nodded eagerly, already fumbling with his utility belt. The clanging of buckles, zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric filled the air as they both shed the minimum amount of clothing they needed to so that Katie could wrap her legs around Steve’s waist as he lifted her up by the back of her thighs, pressing her against the wall whilst he continued to kiss her neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to. He didn’t waste any time before he thrust up into her hard, making her cry out.

It was almost depraved, them fucking with a dead body in the room next to them, but neither of them cared, they were too caught up in a whirlwind of lust and emotions that enveloped them completely. Steve’s hips snapped back and forth with a pace and a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of her again and again. Her palms were scrabbling at the wall behind her trying to gain some traction and Steve quickly pushed further against her to give her more support so she could move her hands round his shoulders, where she clawed desperately at the material of his uniform as her head fell forward and her teeth nipped at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Her hands moved into his long hair, where she pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up her and the pupils of her eyes were blown wide with a desire he would never tire of seeing.  She pushed her hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and she let out an almost primal cry he had never, in their almost five years of being together, heard her make before. It simply revved him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Stevie,” she moaned, her head rolling back against the wall as her hands clamped onto his shoulders as she started to feel that snake in her belly moving. He felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him and he continued his voracious pace until she cried out, a loud scream before she dropped her head to his shoulder, as she moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through her orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Katie! I’m…fuck!” his words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate and he came with such a force that he felt his knees buckling underneath him and even his super strength wasn’t enough to keep him upright, the absolute gratification he felt was just too much. He caught her as the pair of them collapsed to the concrete floor, her on top of him, a tangle of clothing and limbs, chests heaving, sweat on both their brows as he held her to him, panting and shaking. Neither of them had any idea how long they stayed like that, but eventually Steve managed to gain enough control to sit them both upright, his wife on his lap has he gently brushed the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face back, and looked at her, his lips gently greeting hers in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before. She smiled at him, unadulterated love in her eyes as she moved her hands to brush his hair back before she leaned down and kissed him again, before her nose slide against his.

“I adore you.” she said softly, and he pulled her to him, nuzzling into her neck as he sighed.

“Feeling is mutual, Doll” he murmured, causing her to chuckle before they heard a noise in both their ears.

“Yeah, erm, you do realise your coms were on. That whole time.” Sam said, his tone laced with dismay.  “Erm yep, so we errr…heard everything.”

Steve felt himself grow cold and he let out a soft groan of utter embarrassment into Katie’s neck

“Most excitement Sammy’s had in years.” Natasha quipped

Katie on the other hand, instead of shrinking with humiliation, threw back her head and laughed, and when Steve looked up at her, unsure exactly what she found so funny about it all, he saw her just fucked pink flush, her eyes which were practically crinkled shut in mirth, her perfect teeth surrounding by those plump lips he could kiss all day, and that freckle spattered nose which was wrinkled as she continued to howl with amusement.

And right then he didn’t care what Sam and Natasha had heard, because frankly, seeing her like that was worth whatever digs and snarky comments that were going to get their way. 

****** April 2018

“Huh…” Nat said as they entered the dilapidated house, her and Katie pulling off their hoods and masks “Guess my old KGB contacts can pull through in a pinch.”

“We should move fast.” Steve looked at the door to the small, market stall lined street outside “Won’t take long for them to notice something is wrong.”

“I’ll keep watch.” Katie nodded, peering out through the crack in the door into the dusty, desert air as Natasha examined the gun she was holding.

“Definitely Chitauri. Although they’ve been heavily modified.”

Natasha effortlessly deactivated the weapons and they worked quickly and efficiently packing them into the crates ready to take them to the outskirts of the city to the drop point.

“You reckon we’ve earned a break after these ones?” Sam asked, as they began to load the heavy crates onto the back of the truck. Steve smiled as he looked at Sam. They’d been on back to back missions pretty much since New Year so far, the latest of which had brought Steve back to a very familiar market place in Yemen, one he had swore he would never come back to after the last time he’d run an op here. It was hot, dusty, and he had to admit to himself (because he would never admit it to anyone else) he was ready for a break.

“Yeah I think Wanda had the right idea.” Katie mumbled. She wasn’t feeling all that great if truth be told. She’d woken up a few days ago with a dodgy stomach after what she suspected was bad chicken, and it was taking her a while to shake it off. 

They made the drop and headed back to the jet where Katie grabbed another bottle of water and sank into one of the chairs, almost draining it in one. After a few breaths, the queasiness she had been feeling all the drive back to the jet dissipated somewhat and she lay her head back, closing her eyes.

Steve passed his wife, his hand gently running over her hair as she leaned back to take a nap. He knew she wasn’t feeling great but she’d assured him it was nothing serious. She looked better than she had done a few days ago, there was more colour in her cheeks so hopefully she was over the worst of it.

Sam got them airborne and set the coordinates for the Safe House, and Steve found himself looking forward to getting back after almost 5 weeks away. The jet was pretty much silent for a few hours, Steve at one point switching out with Sam to allow him to get some rest too. That last mission had been a hard one, but worth it.

“Have either of you heard from Wanda?” Natasha asked a little while later, as she looked up from the tablet she was poking about on.

Steve shook his head as did Sam. Natasha let out a growl. “She’s deactivated the tracker on her phone. I warned her about that last time.”  

“She isn’t a prisoner Nat.” Steve said, looking over at Katie who was still sleeping.  “She knows the risks. She’s been doing it on and off for the last 2 years.”

“I get that, but we don’t know where she is.” Nat said.

“Look, we should be back at the safe house in what, an hour or so? Let’s wait and see if she’s there.” Steve suggested. “If we don’t hear from her by the morning, then we’ll worry.”

Nat opened her mouth to argue back but Steve shot her his infamous captain glare, signalling the debate was over. She shrugged.

“On your head be it.” She said, nonchalantly before completely changing the subject. “Fury’s patched through a new target- another Terrorist Sect grouping for an attack he suspects.”

“Where is it this time?” Sam called from the cockpit.

“Columbia” Natasha answered.

“Alright,” Steve nodded. “We’ll take a proper look at it once we’re back at the Safe House”

At that point. Katie gave a soft hhmm as she stretched out her limbs, opening one eye blearily, then the other. She blinked and Steve stood up, heading over to her.

“Hey sleepy.” he said, dropping a soft kiss to her temple as he crouched down in front of her. “You sure you’re ok?”

Katie looked up at her husband, his handsome face sported a few more lines than it had done this time two years ago, and the spectacular beard he had sported hid his jawline, but his eyes never changed, and here they were so full of concern and love over something so minor as an upset stomach that it almost made her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she smiled, “I feel much better now.” Which she did. The funny feeling in her stomach and fuzziness in her head was well gone.

Before Steve could say anything else, Sam called his name and he glanced round as he straightened up and looked at the screen on the cockpit.

“Cap, I’m getting a report, some kind of ship"

“Where?” Steve asked as the pair of us turned to face him.

“Seems to be over the mainland UK of all places.” Sam frowned “It’s not much, but it’s big for sure. We’re not far out, fancy a slight detour on the way home, see what it is?”

Before he could answer, Nat strode to the middle of the jet, tablet in her hand.

“You need to see this.”

She swiped at the screen and the footage she was referring to appeared on the hologram display. Katie watched a familiar red and gold figure speeding through the air over the familiar back drop of down-town New York, tangling with, well, she wasn’t sure what the hell they were.

“Oh my God.” she muttered, as she read the tag line playing across the bottom of the news report- New York attacked.

“Shit.” Sam said, turning to watch from his seat.

The four of them paused as more footage showed the kid known as Spider-Man swinging through the air, and two other men, one with a long, crimson cloak, all facing off against two foes.  

“When did this happen?” Steve asked eventually, looking at Nat

“15 minutes or so ago.” she replied.

Steve didn’t say anything, instead he moved to the locker at the back of the jet, and taking a deep breath he pulled out his half of the pair of burner phones he had gotten from T’Challa almost two years ago. Stark’s technology still, after all these years, amazed him. An amplified booster on all the jets he owned made it possible to for a mobile phone to continue working whilst in the air. He glanced up at Katie, before flipping open the phone and then all four of them stopped dead as it began to ring before Steve had the chance to even dial. 

“Stark?” his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he asked the question, even though there was no one else with that number…

“Steve, hi, it’s Bruce. It’s err, been a while.”

Steve paused his eyes widening at the surprise at hearing his one time team mate.  “Yeah, yeah it has.” “Listen, there’s not a lot of time to explain but something big, someone big to be exact is coming, and they’re after Vision.” “Vision?” Steve paused, standing still where he had been pacing unknowingly. “For the Stone?”

“Yeah, but Vision has turned off his transponder so we can’t track him, but Tony...” Bruce took a deep voice and Steve glanced up at Katie who was watching him intently “Tony went after the ship, Cap, he’s on the ship, heading out to space, but before it all started he was about to call you. He said that you might be able to find Vision. Well we need to, we need to before they do. You got any idea where he is?”

Steve listened to Bruce’s rambles, a million and one questions were whirring round his head, but there was no time for that. If this was as big an issue as he said, they had to find Vision. And right now, he would hazard a guess that he was wherever that huge ship over the UK was.

“I don’t know for sure, but I have a pretty good idea.” he said eventually.

“You need to get him before they do Steve, and I mean it. This is the biggest threat we’ve ever faced. This guy, well even Thor couldn’t stop him.”

Now that really did worry him, but again there was time to think about that later. “Leave it with us.” he said gently, before he closed the phone and stuck it into his pocket.

“What is it?” Katie asked, “Was that Tony?”

Ignoring her, Steve strode to the front of the jet and spoke to Sam. “That reading. Can you get a lock on it?”

“Piece of cake”

“Get us there, fast.” Steve instructed. Sam nodded to show he had understood.

Steve looked back at Natasha and Katie as his wife crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation, not impressed with being ignored.

“Whatever is on that Ship, chances are they’re looking for Vision.” Steve said simply “They want the stone in his head.”

“Wanda...” Nat muttered gently, as she hurried to the front of the jet.

Katie’s eyes however went back on the footage of the spinning space ship above the city they once called home.

“Steve.” She said eventually “Tell me please, how was he?”

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t Tony.” Steve replied, his voice low as he looked up at the cockpit. Natasha and Sam were busy flicking switches. “It was Banner”

“Banner?” she frowned “But what?I mean how?” “I don’t know but he said that Tony had go-…”

“We got it cap…” Sam interrupted. “Just over Edinburgh, I’ve locked in the route, we should be wheels down in ten.”

Steve nodded and then turned back to Katie as she carried on speaking.

“What about Tony?” she pressed.

Steve opened his mouth to answer but he stopped, his eyes falling onto the footage, still playing on the hollovision. Katie followed his gaze, the next line across the bottom answered her question.

Billionaire Tony Stark missing.

Katie couldn’t find any words to say. Instead she felt her breathing deepen and she swallowed thickly staring at the footage. Missing? Like, kidnapped? Missing in Action, missing presumed dead…a thousand and one thoughts  began running through her head, all of them coming back to the last time they had seen one another.

“You disgust me…”

Steve’s hand dropped onto his wife’s shoulder as he noticed her lip was beginning to wobble. 

“We get Vision and then we work on finding him.” He said gently, looking at Katie who looked up at him.

“We best hope we find him.” she swallowed again before she looked down at her hands. “Because if worst comes to worst and the last time we spoke to each other was when we parted on such bad terms, I’ll never forgive myself Steve.”

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