#so I made this to cool down before I threw tablet out the window

[leconcombrerit]

May I offer a Logan sketch in these trying times ?

#trying cause I've been desperately trying to get another sketch to work #and it doesn't #so I made this to cool down before I threw tablet out the window #I put random 1's and 0's so if I accidentally wrote dick that's on me #for being kinda lazy #logan sanders #sanders sides

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

#peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker x you #Christopher smith #dceu smut #dceu fanfiction #I don't know what happened; I had ideas for some dialogue between peacekeeper and reader and it turned into thiS #peacemaker smut #smut #mywords*

[tracybirds]

Paper Dreams

John receives a prestigious invite and he’s not sure how to respond.

Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the encouragement because I am nerves!!

*                      *                      *

The crisp white envelope was heavy in his hands as he hurried from the room. Paper was a formality, a mark of distinction that would surely draw his brothers’ unwanted attention. Letters didn’t just arrive unannounced in this era of high-speed data connections and quantum supercomputers. In fact, they didn’t arrive at all.

So, John was more than a little apprehensive when Grandma Tracy silently handed him the sealed envelope and walked away.

It took only a few short minutes to read through the contents and he sat back against the window in his room, the words whirling in his mind.

Mars Colonisation Project. Distinguished candidate. Invited to apply.

An opportunity of a lifetime.

A way to prove for once and for all that he was more than his father’s famous name.

John clutched at the letter, the paper crinkling in his grasp. He mouthed the words as he read them, over and over.

He looked up at the sound of a loud yell calling his name, hurriedly shoving the letter into the envelope and dropping it at his side. Snatching up a nearby tablet, his flushed ears were the only hint of the letter that remained when Gordon shoved open the door.

“John, dinner, hurry up.”

His brother tore out of the room before he could respond.

*                      *                      *

John slipped into his seat, mouthing an apology to Grandma Tracy as he did.

“Finally!” cried Alan. He wriggled back in his seat, staring hopefully at the food. “Grandma said we had to wait for you, you took forever!”

“Is Dad not eating?” asked Virgil. “I heard him come in.”

“He’s taking it in the study tonight,” said Grandma Tracy, shaking her head slightly. “Brains dropped by and they’re holing up together on that project of theirs.”

John glanced over at the conspicuously empty seat at the head of table. They all knew what ‘that project’ meant.

In the heady rush of excitement, he’d all but forgotten the silent expectation that accompanied his studies and extra-curriculars for the past five years. A pet project alone wouldn’t have been enough to deter him from his own ambitions, but the Thunderbirds, they offered something different, something more than the office politics of academia, squabbling over research grants.

He’d never known anything that could compete.

Until now.

“Hey,” said Virgil in a low tone, nudging him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

John pulled himself back into the present with a slight grimace.

“Fine. Just thinking about an assignment.”

Virgil nodded slowly, looking him up and down with a critical eye.

“Are you going to eat anything, or just push it around?”

John automatically lifted his fork, blinking as the peas fell back to the plate and landed in a pile of mushy, grey potatoes.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry.”

“Can I have yours?” asked Alan, already reaching over to grab at his plate.

“Not hungry, John?” asked Grandma Tracy. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

She examined the pinched look in his face and the nervous twist of one hand inside the other.

“No,” said John, wishing he hadn’t said anything. The last thing he wanted was any level of scrutiny. “I’m fine, Grandma, honest.”

He let Alan scrape his leftovers from his plate, realising with a pang than he’d had another growth spurt over the previous semester at his boarding school.

If he left for Mars, he’d return to a brother he’d hardly recognise.

Colonisation was a long-term project, the result of years in planning and decades of dreams. Countless people would put their life’s work into its development and they had every right to expect the same of their astronauts. The application process alone was heavily involved and would severely limit time with his family, to say nothing of the many years ahead for him on Mars if he made it all the way into space. He’d be travelling millions of miles from home, only to find himself living with a group of strangers that he couldn’t escape without logging an external environment report.

He didn’t even like sharing a bathroom at the university housing that much.

Still the piece of paper called to him.

“Can I be excused?”

Grandma Tracy nodded and he hurried from the room, not noticing her troubled look.

The warmth of the room followed him into the hallway and he shut the door firmly behind him. He thrust his hand into his pocket, searching for the reassuring touch of cool paper.

It was real.

It was real and if he let the opportunity pass by, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Or he might be wasting his time, pinning his hopes on something that would only serve to distract him in the long run. He could only imagine what Scott would say, who’d never once taken his eye off a prize once he’d decided to aim for it.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he wanted, and found himself climbing into the cramped space under the roof that had generously called a playroom, then a study, then an attic.

He blinked as the bare bulb overhead lit the small room, filling it with old memories and dust.

His first telescope was still standing in the corner, pointing high in the sky and he lifted the edge of his T-shirt to wipe the dust away. Surrounding it, lay stacks of books that his mom had picked up from the local thrift store, that Mrs Delaney, the owner, put them aside just for him.

John walked carefully among them, tugging the small window open and staring out into the night. The stars shone bright in the clear, crisp air.

Crouching down, he peered through the eye piece, adjusting the focus with a practiced hand. The little reflector was nothing like the giant telescopes available at the college department, and he had to hold his breath to stop the stand from wobbling. But the universe was still out there, the same as it was when he was a kid, still holding an infinite number of mysteries despite the years he had spent uncovering the rules that held it together.

He looked up, eyes darting through the familiar patterns, searching for the anomaly he knew was wandering between Gemini and Taurus.

And there it was.

Mars.

A planet with so much to offer the world they lived on. Where he could work with a team of people who loved space just like him, where he could devote his life to researching astronomy from a new perspective and developing technology for interplanetary life for generations to come.

Where he could leave his mark alongside all the heroes of his childhood. Alongside his dad.

“After all, why shouldn’t I go?” he said, scowling up at Mars.

“Go where?”

John spun around with a start.

“Kayo! When did you get in?”

She shrugged, propping up her head with her hand.

“Long enough to see you come up here,” she said. “I waited for you, but then Mrs Tracy said you hadn’t eaten. Figured something was wrong.”

She looked him up and down with a piercing eye. John tried not to squirm. He’d always felt Kayo had something of a sixth sense when it came to knowing things that should have been a secret.

“Seems like I was right,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then where are you planning on going?”

“Nowhere. I don’t think, that is…”

He flopped down and tilted his head back with a huff.

“Not right now, at any rate.”

Kayo pulled herself up onto the floor and drew the ladder upwards.

Neither spoke as the trapdoor shut with a small ‘click’.

The dust swirled in the air, dancing in the shafts of light above them.

“Is it a graduate program?”

“No.”

“An international program?”

“No.”

“A long-term space colonisation program for specially selected candidates who have already proven themselves in the fields of communications, astrophysics and astrotechnology?”

John stared at her.

She shrugged.

“It’s my job to know.”

“So, why even ask?”

“I’m trying to get you to lower your guard.”

She smiled at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“You’ve met Brains, right? He’s got some server tracker that flags your name. They asked your advisor for academic and personal references months ago.”

“Oh God,” said John, dropping his head in his ands and staring wildly at the floor. “Does Dad already know?”

Kayo shook her head.

“Dad and I do. Security details and all. But we don’t tell him that kind of stuff, you know, he’s not spying on you.”

“You’re right, that’s a real comfort,” said John, drily.

Kayo tossed her head.

“I’m just saying.”

Her eyes softened as she watched him draw his knees close to his chest.

“He doesn’t know.” She hesitated, still watching him. “Would it be all that bad if he did though?”

John huffed a little, still staring at his knees.

“International Rescue’s all we’ve ever talked about,” he said. “I didn’t think there’d be anything else I wanted. What if I let him down?”

“He’s already proud of you, John.”

“But we’ve been working towards it for so long now. This would change everything. Delay the full scope of the project for months, or years even.”

Kayo snorted.

“You really think Jeff Tracy, resident billionaire and with access to the best tech in the world, wouldn’t be able to find another genius astrotechnician and communication expert?”

John shot her a withering look.

“Okay, so maybe he’d have to find two super geniuses.”

She easily dodged the picture book he threw in her direction.

“Leave off,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Kayo spotted the slight smile though, and grinned broadly in return.

“Can I?” she asked, nodding at the space between him and the wall.

John nodded and shuffled over as best he could, trying not to topple the book stacks around them.

Kayo wriggled into the gap, and John paid her no mind.

He hadn’t thought of who would take his place because, of course, someone must. He’d been preparing for an International Rescue without him, one where his family diverted communications for a few years and focused their efforts on establishing themselves on land and sea until Alan stepped into his role on Thunderbird Five.

He hadn’t imagined an International Rescue where he wasn’t even needed.

Kayo seemed to sense the turn in his thoughts, nudging him gently to pull him from them.

“He wouldn’t trust them half as much as you, you know.”

John shrugged.

“I don’t want to disappoint him,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t want that to be the only reason I don’t go.”

He took a deep breath, and glanced back up at the slowly setting planet.

“And I want to go,” he admitted. “I do. I need to tell him.”

Kayo nodded, a sad look in her eyes. They sat in silence together, lost in their own thoughts. The bustle of the house downstairs filtered upwards. Muffled bangs and indistinct shouts of Gordon and Alan playing some ridiculous game, loud music from Virgil’s room – the kind he put on to drown out any interruption to his painting. Grandma Tracy seemed to be having some kind of one-sided conversation with herself, until John remembered, with a pang, that it was Saturday morning out in Guam and she was likely speaking to Scott at that very moment.

Kayo sighed and dropped her head on John’s shoulder.

“I’d miss you though.”

John swallowed carefully past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’d miss you too.”

*                      *                      *

John was too old to be summoned to his father’s study, but somehow deliberately interrupting him felt worse. Nausea sat like a rock in his stomach, his voice box left in tatters as he knocked on the solid oak door.

“Who is it?”

He couldn’t reply.

His eyes flitted across the family photos that littered the hallway, landing finally on the image of his father and crewmates waving to the masses as they entered the Herschel-VI.

The photograph didn’t show the way his father was blind to the crowd, his farewell only for the woman who stood half a mile from the launchpad, proud, so proud, and sick with worry too. She held tight to her eldest son with one hand, and rested her other on the stroller she was rocking back and forth. She didn’t see the way he had wriggled out of his restraints nor how he was preparing to drop to the ground and run away, already intent on chasing after his father at three years old.

Jeff Tracy, first man on Mars, opened the door with a frown and a touch of impatience, and John knew there would be no escape this time.

“John.”

“Dad.”

His throat closed around his words and his hand closed around the letter in a fist.

Jeff looked down at the sound, and looked back at John, an assessing look in his eye. He stepped back wordlessly and John entered the severe room.

“What’s happened, son?” he asked, holding his hand out for the letter.

He smoothed down the crumpled edges as he read, his eyes leaping from phrase to phrase on the page.

“Well, it seems congratulations are in order. I assume you intend to accept?”

The knot in John’s chest loosened and he collapsed into the chair opposite Jeff.

“I intend to apply,” he corrected, staring down at the desk between them.

“John, they don’t reach out like this unless they want you onboard. They intend you to be on that shuttle, regardless of the formalities the bureaucrats put in place.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blueprints, Brains’ small, neat handwriting annotating each design and his father’s looping comments scrawled liberally across them.

Jeff followed his line of sight and smiled.

“Five won’t be operational for a few more years, you know that. Don’t let her be what holds you back.”

“But this was always it, this is why I’m getting space rated. And the satellite network still needs to be launched, and the orbital mechanics calculated.”

“An opportunity like this doesn’t come your way twice, son.”

John stopped.

“You think I should accept. If they say yes.”

“Don’t you?”

There it was. His father’s blessing laid out in front of him, just waiting to be taken up like a pennant.

Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d sacrificed, gone. In its place, a single shining achievement, a global community on their sister planet. The first of its kind.

It had been a long time since John had allowed himself to dream his own dreams.

“Alright,” he said, a giddy rush spinning his head so that he hardly knew what he was saying. “I’m gonna do it.”

#john tracy #kayo kyrano #jeff tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic

[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours-9

Word Count: 4,901

Story Summary: Follows Dean and the reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: With no other choice Crowley is enlisted to free Sam of the angel's grasp

Warnings: cursing, fights, blood,death the usual

When Cas made it to the bunker you weren’t sure if Dean had even told him everything that had happened. When he walked into the library where you and Dean were currently gathering what weapons you’d need it confirmed he in fact had no idea what all had gone down when he asked “What happened?”

You stopped mid movement and cut your eyes at Dean who took a deep breath before saying “We need to catch you up on a lot Cas” you saw the look of confusion on Cas’ face so you motioned to the chairs “Let’s sit down” Cas took a seat so you sat next to him and Dean sat across the table. Dean’s eyes were cast downward and you could only imagine what he was saying to himself in that movement, the horror that was his own mind working against him half the time. You could only guess that little voice inside of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough. You hated that little voice and would give anything to make Dean never listen to it again.

“I made a mistake Cas” he started but you quickly cut in “We made the mistake Dean..We” Cas looked between the two of you so you elaborated “After the trials, when Sam collapsed Dean called me. By the time I got to their sides Sam was dying and Dean had already put a call out to any angel for help. I came in to Dean being attacked and the angel who introduced himself as Ezekiel intervening. He was hurt in the fall so he couldn’t heal Sam..Cas honey we had a lot of pissed off angels coming down on our asses looking for you so we had to make a quick decision. Let Sam die or let the angel in” 

“Whoever the angel was he..he hijacked Sam then he killed Kevin and took the angel tablet” you added not meeting Dean’s eyes. “Sammy was dying and he said it was the only way. I believed him and now Sam’s gone..Kevin’s” his voice trailed off at the end so you looked up towards Cas as he said “Dean I’m sorry” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Dean replied and you let out a harsh breath as he pushed away from the table and stood turning his back to you and Cas before adding “It sure as hell ain’t gonna bring Kevin back..We got to find the son of a bitch”

Cas looked at you to ask “If the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel than who is it?” “A dead man walking” Dean replied, turning back around. “You’re gonna destroy him? You kill an angel it’s vessel dies too” Cas asked. Your entire body felt like it’d been dipped into ice. There had to be a different way. You couldn't kill the angel not while he was inside of Sam and you wouldn’t let anyone else. “There’s got to be a different way” you met Dean’s eyes as you said it. You refused to give up on him or Sam. It wasn’t in you.

He walked back over to the table and leaned down before saying “Sweetheart if we don’t end it and that halo burns him out..god damn I was so stupid” You looked to Cas silently begging him for help. He stood up as he said “You were stupid for the right reasons” “Yeah like that matters” Dean argued so you stood up next to Cas and said “It does” “Sometimes that’s all that matters” Cas added.

You nodded then said “Cas, Sam is strong if he knew somehow that an angel was possessing him he could fight couldn’t he?” “He could cast the angel out” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head at both of you “Maybe but he’s in the dark. How the hell would we clue him in?” You could see a thought occur to Cas before he asked Dean “Do you remember Alfie?”

You looked towards Dean as he said “The kid angel, yeah why?” “Before he died he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. Might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam” “You think that would work?” you asked hopeful and Cas shrugged “I don’t know but I think we owe it to Sam to try, don't you?” 

At an actual plan being formed Dean nodded slowly “Well where do we start?” “Do you still have Crowley locked up here?” Cas questioned so you nodded “He’s in the armory locked up tight” “Then we should start there”

------

You watched Dean draw a syringe of blood out his own arm. Once he was through you held a rag out to wipe the blood away. “Thanks” you nodded checking to ensure it’d stopped bleeding. He laid his hand over yours when you started to pull away “I mean for a lot more than that”

You walked into the armory behind Cas after Dean turned the light on. Crowley blinked a time or two then smiled “Hello boys” when he spotted you he added “And hello sweets” Cas stepped back over to block you from his vision and you half smiled at the protectiveness. Dean pulled the syringe out his pocket “Ok, here’s the deal. You’re gonna tell us how to hack an angel and I’m gonna give you some of the good stuff. Human blood, fresh from the tap.Word is you’re jonesing for it” Crowley shook his head “Please. I’ll pass”

“What do you want then?” Cas asked. Crowley looked between the three of you then said “Well for starters a massage between the sitting and the shackles a body gets a little stiff” “Yeah I ain’t rubbing you and Y/N damn sure isn’t” Dean quickly shut him down but he replied “Didn’t want you or sweets. Get Kevin, his tiny fists can really work wonders” “Kevin’s dead” you bit out and actually saw Crowley’s face fall just slightly “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”

Cas pushed you towards Dean before walking over to the table “Don’t pretend you care, you tried to kill him” Crowley was undeterred “I told him this was gonna happen. I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run” “From what?” you asked  and Crowley cut his eyes at you “From your boyfriend sweets” You saw that haunted look pass through Dean’s eyes again as Crowley looked his way “How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don’t have much in the way of a life-span” Cas threw a look your way and you knew he was thinking along the same lines as you were but there was no time for that now considering Crowley continued “Now I can’t teach you how to crack open an angel. It’s more art than science. But I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip, dying for some fresh air” then held up his hands and added “Chains on naturally”

“No,” Dean said, then turned to walk out grabbing your hand but stopped when Crowley said “No? Of course not because if I’m plan a I’m sure you have a totally viable much better plan b. That’s why your angel and your girl is still paying any attention to me” 

Dean stopped and motioned Cas over. You stepped to the side to let Cas get close enough to you both. “You can’t be considering this” he said but you knew Dean was. Hell you were if it got Sam back. “With the chains on he can’t do anything” Dean tried but Cas did have a point when he argued “It’s Crowley. He can always do something” “Looks like we need a tie breaker. Sweets you want to vote or you want to go grab moose” You shot a glare at him and he smiled “Unless of course you can’t. That explains why you’re all here and why you and squirrel are up for letting me out. The poor giant baby’s in trouble again isn’t he” You wanted nothing more than to knock that damn smirk off his face but you felt Cas grab your arm as if he knew so you remained in place while Dean walked towards Crowley “Are you done?”

“Depends, do we have a deal?” Crowley asked and Dean looked back to you and Cas. You sighed and nodded so he told Crowley yeah. “Excellent, when do we leave?” “Want to take the jeep?” you asked and he shook his head “I don’t want him in your jeep” Cas spoke up and said “I have a vehicle. It stopped a few miles from here inexplicably” Dean nodded “Ok” then looked at Crowley “We’ll be back to grab you”

------

A few questions about how the car was acting before it died confirmed it probably just ran out of gas so you grabbed the spare can from the garage while Dean grabbed Crowley and the bag of weapons.

You walked next to Cas because him and Dean had Crowley between them. You had silver bullets in your gun and an angel blade in your jacket along with all the supplies Dean had despite the fact that the four of you walking down the road was probably a little strange looking to any passerby you made it to the tan lincoln without issue.

Crowley looked at the car then back at Cas “Really? Are you a pimp?” you rolled your eyes at him “There’s nothing wrong with your car Cas” Cas smiled at you “Thank you Y/N. I like it” Dean walked to the open driver’s window and tried the ignition “Yeah it’s out of gas” he moved to put the gas in the car and you noticed Cas once again put himself between you and Crowley. “Riddle me this boy wonder why do you need the wheels?” Crowley asked looking around him at you as he spoke.

Cas took a half step towards him “When you betray us, I’ll be the one to carve your heart out” you felt your eyes widen at that. “Cas, what a flirt” Crowley smiled and you shook your head. Jesus angels and demons were so far from what you’d originally thought hunting was. Dean stood up after the car had gas in it “Alright, let’s go”

“Shotgun” Crowley called out but Dean pointed his finger at him “No, you’re in the back” You shrugged but Dean added “Cas, ride back there with him. I don’t want him that close to Y/N”

You watched the two of them climb in the backseat then cut your eyes at Dean before climbing in. “Watch the leg” Cas growled to which Crowley grumbled “You’re on my side!” “CHILDREN! COOL IT!” you hollered and they both stopped. Crowley grinned “Or what sweets?” you narrowed your eyes at him “I care about Cas but you? I’ll gladly stab you in the face” his grin only got bigger at that “I see just why squirrel likes you”

Dean glared at Crowley in the mirror then cranked the car up. When the music started you had the mental image of Cas listening to the station and it was amusing. You saw Dean cut his eyes at you and if it wasn’t for the angel and demon in the backseat you probably would’ve reached for his hand but instead you simply assured him “I’m good”

------

Crowley gave Dean the directions to Waldroff Financial. When he parked and all of you climbed out the car Cas quickly put himself between you and Crowley again. You followed the three of them across the parking lot and into the building. “Your source is here?” Dean asked Crowley who replied “And she can track anything, even our little lost Samantha” Dean pulled you over to sit next to him while the four of you waited. His hand came to rest on your knee which you’d found was more of a comfort thing to him than anything while Crowley explained that the building you were currently in was a front for an N.S.A. listening post. “What are the listening for?” Cas asked and Crowley shrugged “Everything, The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days so I planted one of my best and let her go to work” 

A security guard walked over and addressed Crowley “Mr Crowley she’ll see you now” all of you stood but he shook his head “Just Mr Crowley” before Crowley walked off Cas reminded him “I’ll be listening to every word you say”

You sat back down to wait this time between Cas and Dean. A few minutes passed then Dean checked his watch and asked Cas “Hear anything?”  “No” Cas replied so you guessed “The room’s warded isn’t it?” he nodded. “Awesome, that’s frickin awesome” Dean grumbled, rubbing your knee slightly. You put your hand over his to stop any further movements and he glanced up at your face so you mouthed “Breathe baby” he nodded slowly turning his hand to lace his fingers with yours. You used your free hand to touch Cas’ arm “Just give him a few minutes. If he acts up I’ll hand you the blade to carve his heart out”

------

Twenty long minutes passed before Crowley walked back down the stairs. All of you stood to meet him and he held out a photo of baby from a traffic cam “Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset Pennsylvania ten minutes ago”  “Let’s go” you urged and Crowley nodded towards you “What sweets said”

------

When you made it to Somerset Dean cut his eyes at you as he parked “If I asked you to stay here?” “I’d tell you to bite me and not mean it sexually” you replied and he sighed “Thought so”

You followed him and Cas down the road to where baby was parked and ran a hand along her side as you walked past her. You knew the drill, stay out the way mainly because they were worried this angel may pinpoint you as a bargaining chip not only for the two of them but for Sam as well.

You followed Dean into the door and nudged his arm then pointed to what was clearly blood. The two of you followed it into the living room to find a body with his throat slashed then heard water running from the kitchen. He reached one hand to be able to touch you as both of you followed the sound. 

The angel wearing Sam’s face stood at the sink with his back towards you washing his hands. He turned the water off before saying “Dean, you and Y/N should not have come here” then turned to face the two of you.  “You killed our friend then took Sam and you think I’m gonna let that stand?” “I allowed you to live, I allowed her to live” The angel replied motioning towards you Dean shrugged “Mistake letting me live” 

The angel flung you both backwards and you landed in a heap but as he walked towards the two of you Cas walked in behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, when he turned Cas hit him once and he went down. “Damn” you breathed as Dean helped you to your feet. You glanced down at Sam’s still then back to Dean “What now?” “We get him up and get somewhere to hack his ass” you picked up the discarded angel blades you and Dean dropped then looked from him to Cas “Well I’ll leave carrying the giant to the two of you”

------

You drove Cas’ car while Dean loaded the angel wearing Sam, Cas and Crowley into baby. You followed him a few miles out of town until he pulled off at a warehouse near the water so you parked behind him then climbed out and walked up beside the impala. Cas glanced your way when Crowley questioned “Why couldn’t I ride with sweets?” and said “Because Dean nor I want you alone with her” you shot Cas a small smile then watched as he helped Dean carry Sam’s still form inside.

You followed them inside and stood back while they went about chaining Sam’s form down to a chair. Cas reached a hand out so you gladly let him push you behind him. He had grace back flowing through him so even with clipped wings he was in a lot better shape than you were to face an angel.

Cas had already done an initial check of Sam’s injuries so when the angel started stirring Dean walked into his line of vision “Welcome to the party pal” then nodded to Cas “How we looking?” you glanced towards Cas for the answer and let out a relieved breath when the answer was “Most of Sam’s internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest” he looked from Dean to you before addressing the angel in Sam “What’s your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I’ve never seen you”

The angel glared at the three of you and it made a shiver of horror run up your spine at just how little he sounded like Sam in that moment “Why would I tell you anything?” Dean took a step towards the angel as he said “Well I don’t give a damn who you are. You need to get out now!” “And if I don’t?” the angel challenged to which Crowley actually spoke up and said “Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate”

The angel set his eyes on you when he said “Even bound I can rip this body apart. Tell them Castiel.” “You do, you die” Dean growled but the angel was undeterred “You want this to end? Go ahead and put a blade through your brother’s heart” you felt your chest clench at that very thought and at the look on Dean’s face. You cared too much about both brothers to see that happen, if it came down to it you wouldn’t let Dean.

The angel looked up at Dean “If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows you, him and Y/N are working a case right now. Something with ghouls and cheerleaders” Dean turned away from him and caught your eye for just a moment before asking him “Why are you doing this? We fought together and I trusted you. You saved Sam and Y/N. I thought you were one of the good guys!”  When that actually seemed to affect the angel that made you curious. It seemed to hurt him when Dean said he thought he was one of the good guys. “I am doing what I have to do” he argued so you shrugged “So are we” 

You nodded to Dean so he looked to Crowley who slowly stood up and grabbed one of the large needles that were laid out onto the table. “So am I” he repeated before digging the first needle into Sam’s skull. The scream the angel let out was pure pain. Cas turned his head away but Dean looked straight on, you knew he was punishing himself for the fact that he still blamed himself for what the angel did. You swallowed hard to keep the bile down that was threatening to come up your throat. Possessed or not that was your best friend in that chair and seeing Dean in pain on top of that? It was almost too much for you to bear.

------

By the time Crowley got the third needle in you couldn’t handle it anymore. You stood from where you’d been sitting “Dean, I’m sorry baby but I can’t” and quickly walked out the room they were in. You felt too hot, like your jacket was choking you despite the cool night. You couldn’t help none of them like this, damn you felt weak.

You sat there on the damp floor trying to catch your breath before you heard footsteps.You didn’t have to glance up to know it was Dean and Cas. You glanced up and Dean shook his head “I couldn’t do it anymore either” 

“It’s not Sam but it’s still Sam” Cas reasoned and you nodded from where you sat. You flinched every time the angel screamed. Cas held a hand out so you let him pull you up to your feet. You glanced at Dean then asked Cas “How are you doing?” 

Cas looked confused for a second as he looked between both of you “You want to talk about me? Now?” “I want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain and I know Y/N feels the same” when Dean’s voice cracked you reached for his arm and he pulled you into his side before he begged “Please humor us Cas, how ya doing?” 

“Um, I’m ok” Cas finally said so you pulled away from Dean and pulled him into a hug. He seemed shocked for a moment then hugged you back. When you pulled away you explained “That’s for not protecting you better when you were human. Cas you’re my family you mean just as much to me as they do”  “Yeah man I’m sorry for kicking you out of the bunker, for not telling you about Sam” Dean added.

Cas simply said “You thought his life was at stake” “Yeah I got played” Dean replied so Cas reminded him “I thought I was saving heaven, I got played too” Dean scoffed “So you’re saying we’re both dumbasses” “You both wanted to trust someone. Someone who portrayed themselves as something they weren’t. Not dumb or ass” you cut in and they both gave you a small smile before Crowley called out “Laverne! Shirley! Sweets! All three of you get in here!”

------

You followed Dean and Cas back into the room. What Crowley wanted to show was that he’d dug around enough to get the angel’s true identity. Gadreel. The angel who had let Lucifer into the garden and doomed all of mankind. 

Cas rightfully had some built up anger at Gadreel but Dean pulled him back and reminded him to chill. Cas shoved his hand off but let your hand remain. “I will for Sam” you nodded a thank you before pulling your hand away.

------

With no other option you stood next to Dean and watched as Crowley’s smoke form left his vessel and flowed into Sam. Cas couldn’t get in without permission so since Sam wouldn't be fast to trust Crowley Dean told him the go word which was poughkeepsie. It meant drop everything and run. It was a system they’d come up with in their early twenties and had worked thus far.

Your eyes were on Sam’s body imagining the fight going on inside his head. You felt Dean’s hand on your lower back and leaned into his touch for comfort. You didn’t want to give voice to the thought inside your head and a part of you was relieved when Cas was the one to say “If this doesn’t work” “It’ll work” Dean cut him off before leaving a light kiss on your temple then walked across the room.

You took a deep breath while you watched Sam’s face for any indication as to what was happening.

------

“Dean!” you called his name a half second before the blinding white light of Gadreel’s essence flowing out of Sam lit up the room. Cas moved to shield your eyes from the light so you turned into his arm. Crowley’s smoke formed followed, flowing back into his vessel. “Sam!” you called moving to help Dean unchain him while Cas worked the remove the needles left behind.

“Sam are you ok?” Cas asked and you could see the confusion on Sam’s face but a vehicle pulling up broke any sort of relief that moment gave. Cas walked over to a window then glanced back “It’s Abaddon!” “Go. The back door. I’ll handle this” Crowley told Dean with a nod.

“Thanks Boris. Don’t die” you muttered while Cas and Dean supported Sam between them. You got in front of them with an angel blade in hand as a precaution. 

------

All of you got far enough away that you could stop for Cas to heal the holes in Sam’s head left by the needles. You stood back watching with your stomach in knots. Would he hate Dean for it? Would he hate you?

After Cas had healed Sam Dean walked over to join the two of them. Cas took a few steps away but you stayed where you were, close enough to hear and intervene if need be but not interfere if unneeded.

“Ok, let me hear it” Dean stated. Sam shrugged “What do you want me to say? That I’m pissed?” Dean nodded so he admitted “Ok, I am. I’m pissed. You lied to me. You got Y/N to lie to me” “He didn’t get me to do anything Sam! I agreed to lie because we didn’t have a choice at the time” you cut in but Sam wouldn’t even look your way before scoffing softly “I was ready to die! “We weren’t ready to let you” you argued and there were tears in Sam’s eyes when he did look your way “So my brother and best friend tricked me into being possessed by some psycho angel?” “He saved your life” Dean spoke and Sam shook his head “I was willing to die..and now Kevin” he trailed off and you felt your heart twist.

“No. That is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands” Dean argued and you started to open your mouth but he shook his head and added “That ain’t ever getting clean” god why did he always have to take the world on his shoulder. “It’s on neither of you! It’s on Gadreel! He killed Kevin!” you stated not backing down from either of them.

“I’m going after Gadreel alone” Dean said after a moment and Sam cut his eyes at you before asking “What does that mean?” Dean tilted his head “Sammy, Y/N...People who get close to me get killed or worse. I can’t lose either of you”

“Go. I’m not going to stop you” Sam told him and you swallowed your words to let the brothers have a moment. Dean stepped away from Sam but stopped when Sam said “But don’t go thinking that’s the problem cause it’s not” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean questioned but Sam wouldn’t elaborate “Just go!”

You’d never felt more torn than standing between the two of them, watching one walk away and one stand in place. “Sam” you started but he nodded once “Go with him. He needs you more than I do right now” “Do you hate me?” you whispered and he shook his head “Never” you stepped close enough to press a kiss to his cheek then hurried to catch up to Dean before he climbed into baby.

------

When you grabbed Dean’s arm he froze and looked down at your hand “Y/N what are you doing?” you met his eyes and said “Either I go with you now or I go home and get my jeep and track you. Sam has Cas to help him, I’m not leaving you alone not now anyways” you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and expected him to argue but he took a deep breath then said “I meant that I can’t lose you sweetheart if something happened to you because of me..” he trailed off but you didn’t need him to finish the thought to know what he meant. “Well then it’s a good thing I’ll be at your side. I know if I die next to you that you did everything you could to keep me alive”

“Get in then” he finally said so you looked back at Sam and Cas before walking around to climb into the passenger seat. You weren’t choosing him over Sam you were just making the choice that felt the most right at the moment and letting Dean drive away alone? You couldn’t do that.

Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #always be yours

[angst-fairygodmother]

if ur requests aren't full, i was wondering if you could write a klaus x reader sickfic pls? love ur writing by the way! :D

A/N: Honestly, sick fics are a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy!  Word Count: 1155 Content Warnings: sickness, the soup of nightmares

You groaned, your head spinning with every movement as you forced yourself up out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen and the loud clattering noises coming from it. You were pretty sure with the way it pulsed, it was going to explode at any minute, splattering your brains across the tiny bedroom. But frankly, death would be a welcome end to the terrible way you’d been feeling for a week. You knew it was just the flu, and that you got sick like this nearly every year, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

Another crash and a familiar yelp had you sighing and shuffling a little faster, despite the way the world lurched with the effort. Your best friend (boyfriend? You were never quite sure where the line was with your relationship with Klaus) had insisted on coming over to take care of you when he heard that you were sick and he had been…trying his best. Unfortunately, his best was still a mess, and based on the distressing smell of smoke now emanating from the room, you were pretty sure it was going to cause permanent damage to your home.

“Klaus?” you called out, wincing at the way your throat burned with the noise. “What are you doing?”

“Go back to bed, Y/N,” he answered, crossing over to you in the doorway and flapping his hands as if to shoo you away. “I’m making you some soup. Or do you need something? I got…” he gestures helplessly at one half of the kitchen counter which appears to contain every over the counter medicine.

“The entire drugstore?” you teased, laughter turning into a cough.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “I didn’t know what you would need or like best.”

You smiled, tilting your head softly at him, only to regret it immediately as the movement made your head swim again.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, noticing and bracing you against one arm while he brought the other up to press the inside of his wrist against your forehead.

He didn’t really know what it meant or what he was supposed to do, but he definitely felt that you were sweaty and warmer than usual, and you looked pale, and you were shaking, and if he hadn’t had Ben reassure him several times this morning, he’d fear that you were dying.

You sighed, sagging against him. “Honestly? Terrible. I thought sleep was supposed to make you feel better not worse.”

He frowned, rubbing your back soothingly as you skimmed over the array of syrups, drops, and tablets he had procured for you. As soon as you had found a non-offensive flavored general cold medicine that hopefully wouldn’t further upset your stomach, he was ushering you over to the couch, which was closer than sending you back to your room, ignoring your protests and suggestions that he get back to the soup he was burning on the stove.

“What else do you need Y/N? Are you cold? I can get you a blanket, or some extra pillows? Or if it’s too hot I can open the window, and I think you have a fan around here? Or…”

“Klaus stop,” you pleaded, holding up your hand to halt his half-frantic listing. “I’m okay. It’s just the flu, I’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“I will however, be pissed, if you burn down the apartment with that soup.”

“Oh shit!” he cried, launching himself away from where he knelt at your side, practically tripping over his own feet as he scrambled back to the kitchen, finally.

A few frustratingly short minutes later, just as you had gotten yourself comfortably curled up on the couch, Klaus was back at your side, offering you a bowl of…something. It was bubbling and oddly gelatinous and you weren’t sure if it was steam or smoke or both pouring off it. But he looked so proud of himself, like a puppy bringing back a stick regardless of having tracked through an entire smelly swamp to do so, that you couldn’t bring yourself to break his heart by rejecting the alleged food entirely.

Hesitantly, you brought a spoonful to your lips, blowing gently to cool it and buy you time to steel your nerves.

You couldn’t help the strangled noise of confusion that you made upon finally taking the bite. Somehow, despite appearances and his actions and all logic, it was ice cold and tasted like a tin can. You choked it down, despite your gag reflex, and avoided his expectant gaze. As soon as you scooped another spoonful, your stomach turned and you practically threw it down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m sorry. I love you Klaus, but I can’t eat this.”

You giggled at his stunned expression (totally unaware that it was from the words you’d spoken rather than your rejection of his attempt at cooking).

“Aw, babe, you didn’t actually think that mess was remotely edible did you?”

He gaped at you like a fish desperate for water. Even though he didn’t seem necessarily upset per se, guilt still gnawed at you as you tried to suppress more giggles at his perplexed expression.

“But you’ve been so sweet and helpful taking care of me in other ways, no one’s going to fault you for not being able to make soup too…”

He cast you an incredulous glare as he flopped down onto the cushions beside you.

“I haven’t done anything right,” he countered with a pout.

“That’s not true! You got me cold medicine.”

“And a counter full of other useless shit.”

“Hey now, I’m sure laxatives and Pepto will both come in handy…some other time…” you smiled.

He scoffed.

“And the more important thing is that you’re here, and you’re trying, and that means the world to me.”

“But…”

You shifted to rest your head on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen slightly before relaxing into your touch and wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer and tracing absentminded patterns on your hip.

“Without you here, even with all the mess that I think is going to tank my security deposit, the last few days would have been intolerable. Instead, being sick is just miserable, but I’ll live.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Would I be smiling right now if I didn’t mean it?”

“I don’t know it could be a feverish delusion or something.”

You laughed and after a moment, he couldn’t resist joining in, green eyes sparkling down at you.

“See, I’m feeling better already, for having you here.”

“Well they do say laughter is the best medicine.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “But it doesn’t seem to be getting rid of your actual fever. You should try and get some more sleep while I make you,” he grinned sheepishly at you as you leaned away to fix him with a glare, “…order you some new soup.”

#he's trying his best #also noticing how much legalese slipped in here #sorry not sorry? #it's now a game of spot the terms in addition to a cute one-shot #sick fic #Klaus Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 5.3 (Bit 2) + Epilogue

From here | 5.2 Bit 1 | 5.2 Bit 2 | 5.2 Bit 3 | 5.3 Bit 1 | 5.3 Bit 2 + Epilogue

IT’S FINISHED!!!!!!!!!!!!

::dances around the room like a loon::

Finished before next Christmas! Woohoo!

This fic is my @tagsecretsanta​​​ fic for 2019 and it is for @scattergraph​​​ .

AND IT IS FINISHED!!!! 68,000 words! My longest Thunderbirds fic!

Many, many thanks for @onereyofstarlight​ who geeked out with me major league on this fic and helped me with research (oh, there was soooo much research for this fic - so much I plan to post about it all in a separate post once I’ve archived this monster) and reading through whatever I came up with and cheerleading :D Also, many thanks to @scribbles97​  @i-am-chidorixblossom​  and @vegetacide​ who also put up with all my crazy and wibblies and for reading through when I scream at random times ‘Does this work or it is crud?’ And, of course, to Thunderfam, who have taken this crazy whale fic on and cheered me to the finish line. Thank you alll sooo much ::hugs for everybody:: Yes, I’m a little excited. To start is fun, but to finish is ecstacy - I had that on my studio wall for a long time :D

Spoilers and warnings: A little Virgil/Kayo, a little Scott/Mel and a lot of brotherly fluff.

I hope you enjoy this last bit of the Kermadec Fic :D

-o-o-o-

Gordon had half expected Kayo’s call. Virgil had been fidgety all day. Scott had pulled Gordon aside at one point and expressed his concern, but there was nothing they could really do until Virgil made his move. Pushing him into anything would have gotten them nowhere. Virgil could be the most stubborn of them all. So, they sat back and waited, gave Virg his space and watched.

Trust Tin to kick his ass into shape.

From the moment Tin kissed Virgil it was a matter of countdown. Gordon had even dragged himself out of the pool, downed a coffee and poked Sam awake.

It wasn’t planned or conspired, just inevitable.

Sam guzzled a coffee beside him.

“You think he’ll talk to us.”

“I think he won’t have a choice. You don’t say ‘no’ to Kayo.”

“So, they’re a thing now?”

Gordon shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know he has a thing for her. He tries to hide these things but we’re family.” Which was why Gordon and the rest of the family knew there was something not right with the second eldest. He had been foggy, daydreaming and not-all-there since he had walked in so late this morning.

So, it was with both eagerness and a little dread that he stepped out onto Two’s runway, tablet in hand, and with a little hope that this could be the start of a healing process for his brother.

Tin was standing close with Virgil and Gordon’s heart warmed at the sight. His brother didn’t stand a hope.

That heart stuttered a moment later as his sister made her departure with those three words that implied possible death if Gordon didn’t look after his brother.

“Now, that’s a little scary.” And somewhat terrifying. Pranking Virgil from this point onwards may include having to cater to Kayo kicking his ass in retaliation.

He swallowed. Well, whatever made his bro happy.

Virgil straightened where he stood, determination in every line. “We need to talk.”

Gordon reflexively parroted his brother’s stance, his spine whipping to attention. Virgil may not be military, but his passion demanded respect.

“Then speak to me, bro.”

Virgil sighed and despite that determination, his shoulders shifted down a little. “I need information.” He turned to Sam. “Can you help me?”

“I can certainly try.” Sam had none of his usual bouncy enthusiasm. Something in Virgil’s agitation was communicating the seriousness of the situation.

“How do whales communicate?”

Sam opened his mouth and there began Whale Communication 101 with a minor in whale anatomy.

Sam was concise, but comprehensive. He’d obviously refreshed his knowledge overnight and even Gordon learnt a few new things.

They ended up perched on a circle of rocks under one of the palm trees, Virgil’s dark eyes fixated on Sam as he answered every question Virgil threw at him.

And there were many. How did their sonar work? What frequencies did humpback whales use to sing? What research has been done in this area? Had anyone been able to actually communicate before?

“No.” Sam’s voice was firm.

“Not even other musicians?” Virgil stared at him.

Sam shook his head. “They were all ignored.”

“What about using the right frequencies?”

Sam shook his head again. “You’re the first.” His friend bit his lip. “What is it like?”

There was suddenly a vulnerability in Virgil’s eyes that had Gordon wanting to stop this, stop this immediately, and he had to restrain himself. Virgil needed to talk it through.

“I…it’s…hard to describe.” An exasperated exhale. “In fact, that is the hardest of all of this. I can’t…express it. The colours, the shapes, the emotion…it’s all there, in my head, but I can’t articulate it, I can’t understand it, it’s just…a mess.”

Gordon’s eyes widened as Virgil waved a frustrated hand at nothing in particular, his focus drifting for just a second as his thoughts turned inward. The hand landed on his thigh and Gordon eyed those fingers as they desperately tapped out a beat on his brother’s jeans.

“Colours? Whales don’t see in colour. They don’t have the physical capability.” Sam’s eyes were as wide as Gordon’s, staring at Virgil.

His brother’s head snapped up. “Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t have the required cone cells in their retinas. They see in monochrome.” Sam was leaning forward.

“No, they see colour.” Virgil’s eyes focussed inward again. “So many shades of blue, green, the hot pink of exuberance, the yellow of warm sunshine, the deep midnight of sadness, the rainbow of sunset on cooling skin, white of pain, grey of threat…the black of loss. So many colours.” Virgil turned away and looked out into the caldera a moment before turning back and pinning Sam with his eyes. “It’s in the sound. You have to listen to the music.” To Gordon’s astonishment, Virgil sung a handful of notes only to break off and frown, yet again in frustration. “But I can’t…!” Virgil’s hands balled into fists.

Sam was staring wild eyed. “You can understand them?”

“Yes! No! Hell, I don’t know!”

Gordon reached out and placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Hey, take a breath. We have time. We can work this out.”

Troubled brown eyes latched onto his. “It’s in my head, Gordy, and I can’t get it out. I can’t sing it, I can’t paint it, I can’t express it, I can’t even understand it! It’s just…argh!” He clutched at his face, his fingers tangling in his hair.

“Virgil!” Gordon grabbed his brother’s arms and gently pulled them away from his head. “We’ll work this out. You’re not alone.” He drew in a breath. “Never alone.”

To Gordon’s horror, tears glistened in Virgil’s eyes as he stared back at him. The whales suddenly became a threat to Gordon’s family and he had the urge to protect his big brother from whatever the hell it was they were doing to him.

A window into Scott’s world was never clearer.

But Virgil composed himself. Voice rough. “It’s okay, Gords.” A dragged in breath. “I’m okay.”

Gordon’s grip on Virgil’s wrists just got tighter. “Are you kidding me? You have the t-shirt, but that is total bullshit.”

“Gordon-“

“No. They’ve gotten into your head and good or bad we are going to work through this until you are ‘okay’, okay?”

Virgil sighed and looked down before frowning at him again. “How?”

Sam cut in and Gordon startled. He had almost forgotten his friend was there. “Talk to the whales.” Virgil’s eyes hit the man and Sam’s voice became pleading. “Explain it to them. Ask them. Learn from them. Get more information and we can work it out. The more information we have the better we can understand it.” Sam’s passion rose to the surface. “This is a massive breakthrough, Virgil. You can interpret another species language.”

“No, I can’t. That is the problem, Sam.”

His friend’s pale blue-green eyes didn’t back down. “Yes, you can. Partially at least. You’ve said the words yourself. You’ve labelled colours. You’ve spoken of emotions and intent. You are communicating, Virgil.” If it was possible, the intensity in Sam’s eyes just lit up more. “And they know it. They sought you out. They responded. They know you. You’ve made a connection.”

Gordon let Virgil’s wrists go and his brother dropped his hands in his lap. “Virg, we’ve got this. John is on it. We have the technology; we have Sam and Mel and you have all of us. We can do this. Give yourself the chance.”

Those brown eyes fixated back on Gordon and the vulnerability was back. Hell, Gordon would do anything to protect his brother. Anything. “We’ve got this, Virg. Trust me.”

“I do, Gords. Always have.”

“Then let’s do this.”

The familiar phrase rang between them and Virgil responded, his body straightening where he sat. Voice still rough. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

Scott stood on the end of the main balcony peering out towards Two’s runway at the three figures sitting under the palm trees.

He bit his lip.

Mel was still asleep on the lounger. He should have stayed with her, but he was edgy and worried about his brother.

Kayo had walked through the comms room sometime earlier and the expression on her face made it plain that Virgil was speaking to Gordon and Sam. A long due discussion.

His brother, the whale whisperer. The whole concept was ridiculous, but apparently a thing.

“What the hell?!”

Scott jumped and Mel rolled over and off the lounger she was lying on. Scott hurried over to help her up. “Alan!”

But the young astronaut ignored him, shooting up from where he was sitting on one of the couches and dashed to end of the balcony where Scott had been standing a moment before. His game console hung from one hand. “John, you are dead!”

“What?” John’s voice wafted up from the pool deck below. “What did I do?!”

“You strip mined my sun!”

“What? No, I didn’t. How do you strip mine a sun?”

“What’s going on?” Mel frowned up at him. She was adorably mussed and dopey looking. He couldn’t help but kiss her hair.

“Hey, Dimples. Focus.” She smiled up at him.

“Oh, okay.” So, he focussed on kissing her thoroughly.

Her hand fluttered against his shoulder a moment before he gained her full attention and…hmmm.

Another squawk of anger from his youngest brother. “A black hole?! You ignited a black hole! You asshole!”

“Alan!” Grandma’s voice stabbed in from below somewhere and snapped Scott out of his pre-occupation.

Mel grinned up at him as he pulled away in automated embarrassment.

“It’s not fair, Grandma, he cheated!”

“That does not excuse your language, young man. We have guests!”

“I did not cheat.”

Really, did they have to yell across levels?

“It’s a black hole, John! You sucked in my entire solar system. If you don’t stop it, you’re going to take out the whole damn galaxy!”

“Alan!” This time it was Scott admonishing him.

“It’s not fair!”

John’s voice was puzzled. “I didn’t do that.” A scuffle of shoes on concrete and the scrape of a lounger. “Hell, I didn’t do any of that. Alan, did you set off a supernova in sector seventeen?”

“Seventeen? I haven’t even been to seventeen.” Alan glared at his game console. “You’re in seventeen already?!”

“I was. A supernova obliterated my base.”

“Well, I didn’t do it.”

Scott bit back an emerging grin. Oh, shit.

“This is impossible.” It was distracted and a sure sign John was poking into code.

He let the grin out and gave it a countdown from five.

“Virgil!”

-o-o-o-

The discussion about whales came to an abrupt and yelling-infused end as Alan jumped on comms and gave his engineer brother a piece of his mind.

John was less exuberant and ever so curious as to how Virgil had managed to not only enter the game without either John or Alan noticing, but then catch up, overtake and obliterate, all within the rules.

Virgil was glad it wasn’t initially a visual signal and only Gordon and Sam got to see his smirk when he answered that it was ‘for him to know and his space brothers to find out’.

John would, no doubt, take that as a challenge.

Alan would probably just take a note out of Gordon’s book and stick jello in his bed sheets in revenge.

The arched eyebrow on Gordon’s face was amusing.

But most of all, at John and Alan’s expense, Virgil felt the pall lifting. It was a pall he hadn’t even been aware was there. Sure, he was tired and the whale song was frustrating, but it had been a good day.

It was the heavy conversation, the focus on the issue and the confusion in his head.

It was Christmas, for crying out loud.

Theoretically, he had just kicked both his space brothers’ butt at the game they were all so cocky over. Well, technically he had simply asked Eos to act in his stead. He had taken one look at the game on his tablet that afternoon on Raoul, worked out a basic strategy, then asked Eos to sneak in and execute it for him.

He hadn’t asked her to hide it from anyone. Just to not mention it unless someone asked.

Eos really did love a good game after all.

And it wasn’t cheating if he was just smart enough to appoint a proxy who could do the job for him.

He’d even asked Eos to backup the game as it was before she entered so the entire scenario could be saved for his brothers to tackle again once he and Eos had taught them a lesson.

Virgil was quite chuffed when it took John a whole fifteen minutes to decipher exactly what had happened.

“Virgil!”

His red-haired brother was glaring at him across the comms room, fit to blow a circuit. “You coerced Eos?!”

A shrug. “No? She was bored. Gave her something to do, that’s all.” He relaxed back against the lounge. Kay found an excuse to join him and he was ever so appreciative when her hand crept into his.

“Eos!”

“I don’t know what the problem is, John. It was fun.” She snorted. Apparently, their AI could snort. “It is what you programmed me to do, after all. Virgil asked and I agreed.”

John opened his mouth, but nothing further came out for a full five seconds. Then, determinedly at the ceiling. “We will be discussing this.”

“We will? I’m looking forward to it. You should see how easy it is to strip mine a sun. The amount of energy I gained was extremely efficient and it allowed me to advance at a pace neither of you seem to have achieved. I have also developed some real-world models that you might be interested in. Application would have to be postponed until interstellar transport has been achieved. Though I have some thoughts on that as well. I would be very interested in what you think of these equations.” A bunch of numbers and symbols appeared in the centre of the comms room. “I’m not sure the energy expenditure variable is viable, however we could leverage this with some assistance from our own sun.” And she kept throwing out ideas that widened John’s eyes enough to dry them out and send them bloodshot.

Eos stopped eventually, possibly sensing an imminent explosion from her father. John was glaring daggers at Virgil.

Virgil shrugged. “She enjoyed it.”

John’s expression was somewhat comical and it was enough to set off Alan, who burst into laughter. Gordon was grinning like a loon as was Scott and Virgil found himself joining them.

John glared at all of them before settling into one of the lounges, tablet still in hand with more amused disgruntlement than anger on his face.

Maybe Virgil had to worry about jello from John’s direction rather than Alan’s?

-o-o-o-

The evening meal was a relaxed one.

Scott dragged out the barbecue and a variety of meat was charred on its hotplate. Virgil stood up to cook, as that was usually his task, but Sam shoo-ed him away and after taking one look at what Scott was attempting to do with the food, kicked him off the Tracy grill as well.

They were all the better for it.

Salads, desserts and even a bowl of marshmallows found their way out onto the patio.

Good food and good company, it was a lovely night as the sun headed towards the horizon on the other side of the Island.

Virgil sat on the edge of conversation, willing to just watch his beloved family. His brothers who had done so much just to get him home. God, he loved them.

Scott sat with his arm around Mel more relaxed than he had seen him in months. Gordon had tinsel in his hair and was chasing Sherbet around the pool, apparently trying to decorate him, too. Alan had cornered Elspeth again and was chatting away a mile a minute. Regardless, she appeared fully invested in what he was saying.

John was glaring at his tablet, no doubt attempting to out thwart Eos. Now that would be the match of the millennium. Genius father versus AI daughter. Virgil had the urge to step back just in case something exploded.

And sitting beside him was Kay, who wasn’t interested in Wayne Rigby. Kay, who smiled at him with her beautiful green eyes.

Again, the song for that colour danced in his mind.

He squeezed her hand, rolled himself off his lounger and stumbled to his feet.

Oh, so elegant, Virgil. An internal sigh as every eye in the room targeted him.

“I’m fine.”

Scott grabbed a marshmallow and threw it at him.

It left a puff of icing sugar in the middle of his chest.

Gordon snorted and Alan giggled.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “The bathroom, guys, yeesh.” He turned and trundled himself back towards the house.

“Have fun!”

He didn’t even bother to turn around. “Hilarious, Gordon.”

“You’re welcome.”

He didn’t bother to even acknowledge that.

He didn’t return to the party immediately. The ocean caught his eye and he had the irresistible need to climb down to the shore.

His brothers didn’t comment as he walked straight past them and down towards the huts, but he felt their eyes.

Really, he couldn’t blame them. He had scared them and then done a number with the whales. He owed them so much.

Something lodged in his throat and he had to swallow emotion.

His feet hit volcanic sand and sunk, grains slipping between his toes. The lagoon lapped gently at the edge of the beach. It was such a contrast to the roaring ocean of Oneraki on Raoul. There were no hot springs here, the Tracy Island volcano was long dead, thankfully. This beach was his beach. Volcanic sand marbled with coral sand and he traced the pattern with his toe.

There was a sound for sand and it was both beautiful and terrifying.

The colours were a kaleidoscope of meaning.

He let a breath out and raised his eyes towards the darkening horizon.

“Virgil?” Are you okay?

He closed his eyes.

Scott.

Another breath and he turned to face his brother. “No. I’m not. But I will be. I promise.” A half smile. “In the meantime, I’m thankful, grateful and ever so lucky. My family is more than I could ever ask for.”

That stopped his brother in his tracks and Virgil found himself smiling.

“Uh, John wanted me to give you this.” Scott held up a tablet.

John’s tablet.

John never let that out of his sight.

Scott approached and touched the device. A world globe appeared above it. Another twitch of fingers and it zoomed into the map far to the south of Tracy Island where a dot blinked. “John wanted you to know that he and Eos are tracking the mother and calf.” A swipe and Scott zoomed in even further, the tablet obviously connected to Five.

Sunset lit waves were interrupted by a spout of water and he watched as ever so far away, Mamma Whale took a breath followed by her daughter before dipping below the waves.

Virgil sucked in a breath and looked up at his brother.

Scott’s smile was soft but said everything.

God, he was ever so lucky.

Virgil turned away towards the lagoon and its gentle waters and blinked.

“Thank you.”

Scott didn’t answer, but a hand did land on his shoulder and Virgil took the opportunity to just exist beside his brother, on his beach with his family…

Here on Tracy Island.

-o-o-o-

  Epilogue: The Skipper

 It was late at night on Christmas Day and most of the family and their guests had retired to bed. Scott was intending on doing the same when he noticed light under the infirmary door.

Concerned that Virgil might be hiding something, he nudged the door open.

He was surprised to find Grandma staring at a hologram, her back to him.

“Grandma?”

She jumped. “Oh, Scott. Give me a heart attack why don’t you?”

The hologram disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned at her. His grandmother had been acting odd all day. Not obviously, but he knew his grandmother, something was worrying her.

To find her here, of all places, past midnight on Christmas Day…

“It’s nothing, dear. Just looking for some paracetamol for a bit of a headache.”

He stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him. “Grandma, you are as bad at it as Virgil is.”

“At what?”

“Lying.”

“Scott Tracy, how dare you.”

He narrowed his frown. “Grandma…”

She glared at him for several seconds before his glare won out. Her shoulders dropped. “You are far too much like your father for your own good, Scott.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” When she still didn’t answer his initial question, he repeated it. “What is wrong, Grandma?”

She sighed. “It’s probably nothing.”

Why was she so reluctant? “Grandma…”

Another defiant glare, but she poked at the holographic controls. “This is between you and me or I’ll cook for you exclusively for the next three years, you hear me?”

“Yes, Grandma.” But his eyes were already tracking across the hologram. A mass of wriggly lines hovered in front of him. It reminded him of a seismograph readout or one of Alan’s games stats graphs he liked to show off. It meant about just as much to him as the latter.

It had Virgil ‘s name written above it.

He didn’t have to ask.

“I did a brainwave scan when I assessed Virgil yesterday. This was the result.” She pointed at the mess of lines. “I compared it to his last scan.” She poked the hologram again and another bunch of wiggly lines appeared beside the first. It meant little to him, but undoubtedly something to his medical grandmother.

“And?”

She eyed him a moment before prodding several of the lines to highlight them. “There are differences.”

“Fluctuations?”

“No. Differences. Something has changed.”

“What has changed?”

She didn’t answer immediately and he received the impression that she didn’t want to commit to answering. “Grandma, if this is something to be concerned about, I need to know. Virgil needs to know.”

She turned to look at him. “It may be nothing.”

“But it is bothering you.”

She sighed. “There are changes in both his delta and beta wave production.”

“What does that mean?”

“Not much.”

“Grandma!”

“Scott, changes can be perfectly normal.”

“Then why is this bothering you?”

“Because John sent me Eos’ research.” She swiped at the hologram again and Eos’ graph detailing the similarities between Virgil’s delta wave production and that of the binaural beat produced by the whale song. “The delta waves matched, which leads me to believe where it started, but look at the beta wave production before the whales and after.” She highlighted the data and Scott stared at it.

The changes were obvious.

“What does it mean?”

“I’m not a neural specialist, Scott.”

“Then why aren’t we sending him to one?”

“It may be nothing.”

“It is obviously something!”

“Scott. There is no sign of impairment.”

“Except he’s talking to whales!”

She held up her hands. “Calm down. It is minor.”

“It doesn’t look minor.”

“And this is exactly why I haven’t mentioned it. I need to do some further investigation before I alarm anyone.”

Too late.

She might as well have heard as she turned to look up at him. “Scott, trust me. I will investigate. I have contacts. I will be discreet.”

He stared at her. “Grandma…”

Her glare was firm. “Trust me.”

Why was everyone asking him to do that lately? It was so damn hard to give the reins to others.

Her hand landed on his arm. “I love him as much as you do.”

Damnit.

He deflated just a little. “I know.”

“I will ask some questions. The answers will let us know if we need to investigate further.”

Her hand squeezed his arm and her eyes held his that moment longer.

He had no choice. “Yes, Grandma.”

“I will keep you advised.”

“Thank you.” He held her eyes a moment longer and he saw the worry in their depths.

“Go to bed, Scott.” He felt her urge for him not to worry, but her lack of saying proved she knew she would be wasting her breath.

“Yes, Grandma.”

She squeezed his arm again before pulling him into a gentle hug. “It will be okay, honey.”

He bit his lip and held her. He closed his eyes for just a moment.

“Yes, Grandma.”

She let him go and gave him a nudge towards the door.

His fingers drifted over her arm. A glance at the blasted hologram and he turned and left.

Mel was smiling at him when he arrived in his room and for a few moments he lost himself in her embrace.

“What’s wrong?” She frowned up at him.

He smiled. “Nothing.”

Her fingers ran tracks through his hair and she challenged him with her eyes. “Dimples?”

He smiled again and took her lips with his own.

He didn’t want to talk.

At all.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Sally Tracy #kermadec fic #virgil/kayo #Kayo Kyrano #scott/oc

[the-cake-lair]

Paint me in beauty

Requested by anon

Jinyoungxreader

Jinyoung has been watching the reader‘s cooking show for a while now and he’s wanted to fuck her from day one. One day they bump into each other at a grocerie store

If Jinyoung had ever had to describe the most erotic thing in the world it wouldn’t have been cooking show. But it wasn’t really the cooking show, more the cook so it didn’t really count, right? Not that anybody had ever asked him for a description and he was more than thankful that he’d been spared the emberrassament of the explanation so far.

He was sitting down on his couch, already annoyed at himself because he knew how this was going to go. It was the same every time she posted a video. He clicked on the newest thumbnail and settled back against the cushions, his tablet in his lap. He watched the short intro, even though he knew it by heart, before the camera focused on your smiling face. Your cheeks were colored the lightest shade of pink and you were scrunching up your nose before waving at the camera. “Heya y’all! Um… so today is going to be a bit different? For a little backround story: thoe who have been following me for a while know that I’m close friends with BamBam from Boss_Bammie and we celebrateed his birthday a couple days ago. So what happened is that our some of the other guys were arm wrestling and BamBam and I made a bet on who’d win. If BamBam lost I would have gotten to pick an outfit for him and he’d have had to wear it for a day and record himself. But obviously I lost the bet so BamBam got to pick out today’s dich and…“ At this point you trailed off and threw your head back to sigh in mortification. “And his pick was a very… yeah interesting version of the hawaiian chicken. Imma show you a picture.“

You grabbed your phoone from the counter next to you and held it close to the camera. “As you can see it looks um… it looks…“ Someone off camera shouted ‘like a vagina‘, followed by what could only be described as an evil cackle. The scene cut to the table that stood in the dining area next to the kitchen to show the silver haired boy, BamBam, who was responsible for your misery, still laughing. When the camera cut back to you you were glaring at him. The flush on your cheeks had darkened signifficantly. “Yeah thank you, BamBam! So we’re gonna just-“ You sighed and glared at your friend one more time. “Start I guess.“

It wasn’t long before Jinyoung had a hand down his pants and the tablet on the couch next to him rather than his lap. He loved watching your fingers while you worked and the focused look on your face on any day, but how blushy you were, how your voice would break every so often while explaining the steps did it for him that day. And then you managed to knock over the flour you had set aside before in your awkward nervousness, prompting you to gasp out a rather loud ‘shit!‘ he was done for.

His hips were bucking into the tight hold he had on his cock, the material of his sweatpants rubbing against his nuckles uncomfortably but he ignored it, his hand moving faster and faster while he replayed you cursing in his mind over and over again, until somethig in his stomach snapped, his dick twitched and the cum dripping down his head lessened the rough drag of the fabric against his skin. He was breathing hard and when he focused back on the screen he saw you threatening playfully BamBam with one of your knives. He paused the video and pushed the tablet aside, allowing himself another moment to breath before doing the laundry.

It was about two weeks after the hawaiian chicken video had come out when Jinyoung actually ran into you, and at the little university grocery store no less. He was just entering the aisle to get some instant ramen when he saw you standing there, trying to decide between two different flavors. He stopped dead in his tracks, just staring at you in surprise. How had he never realized that you attended the same university as him?

After a moment you seemed to decide on which noodles you’d buy and you turned around to headd to the register when you spotted Jinyoung. Your whole face lit up with a smile as you approached him. “Hi! You’re Jinyoung, right? You’re the one who organised the photo exhibition last semester! It was great, I loved it! The pictures were amazing! I’m-“ “I know who you are.“ Jinyoung interrupted you beffore he realized how strange that must sound. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I um… I’ve been following your channell for a while now. I like how you explain stuff, even I can understand it and I’ve managed to burn soup before.“ You both chuckled and then an awkward silence settled over you.

“Thanks, by the way.“ At your questioning look Jinyoung hurried to explain. “You said you loved the pictures at the exhibition. Mot of them were taken by my best friend Jaebum and me so, thank you for the compliment. “Oh! I didn’t know that. You’re welcome then.“ You smiled and blushed lightly. “Okay then. I’ll head home now. It was nice meeting you.“

Jinyoung quickly treid to think of something, anything to keep you arround a bit longer. “I’ve been working on a new exhibition. You wanna take a look and give me some feedback on it?“ You turned back to him, obviously surprised by his offer. “Yeah I’d love to.“

The two of you headed back to the dorms. Jinyoung’s was only about two buildings away from yours so you stopped by your room so you could drop off your groceries, before you went to Jinyoung’s. You were surprised by how tidy it was. All the other college boys you had met so far had been rather messy. Safe for the table that was covered in pictures everything was clean and neat. You went over to the table, picking up different pictures to look at them. All of them showed men and women of various ethicities and body types in nthing but their underrwear. There were flowers painted onto their bodies.

“The topic is Body positivity. The flowers are painted onto the parts of their body they feel insecure about.“ Jinyoung eexplained from behind you. You turned around to look at him and smiled at how nervous he seemed. “That’s lovely. I wish there was picture that beautiful of me.“ “I mean we still need a few more photos for the exhibition. I could take one of you, if you want to.“ He offered. You nodded shily. “Okay. Take off your clothes and I’ll get the bodypaint.“ You nodded and began to unbutton your blouse. You folded it neatly, as well as your pants. Your socks you just threw on top of the pile. “I’m sorry it took a while. The blue was burried under Jaebum’s cat, Nora. She wouldn’t move.“ Jinyoung rolled his eyes before he looked at you. He took a deep breath before he set the paint down. You cleared your throat, very aware of how he had looked at you. “So I was thinking about having the flowers on my thighs?“ Jinyoung nodded, not trusting himself to not say something weird, and picked up the paint. He kneeled down in front of you and began to cover your thighs in color. He put a lot of effort into the flowers, layering the colors and making them as vibrant as possible.

The strokes of the brush on your skin tickled you, but at the same time they were strangely pleasant, feeling a lot like feathers caressing you. You were chewing your lower lip, focusing on not rubbing your thighs together so you wouldn’t destroy the painting. Finally Jinyoung leaned back again to take a last look. “Okay I’m done. How about you try sitting on the windowsill?“ You nodded and settled onto the sill. Jinyoung looked at you, telling you to move this or that way, taking picture after picture. It was one of you with your legs apart, your elbows on your knees and your head resting on your hands. The light made your hair shimmer and your skin glow. “I think we’ve got it. Here take a look.“ It was only when he held up the camera that he noticed that he was standing between your legs, basically trapping you between his body and the window.

You hadn’t come to that realization yet, still busy gaping at the picture of you. You had never thought of yourself as gorgeous but it was the first word that came to your mind upon looking at the photo. “Wow!“ you breathed out before looking up at Jinyoung. He was staring at you intensely, and the compliment for his skills got stuck in your throat. You tried to clear it but before you could try to talk again he bent down to kiss you, his hands coming up to rest on your bare waist. His lips were slightly chapped but you didn’t mind, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. The paint on your thighs rubbed onto Jinyoungs pants which you pulled down . They were in the way anyway. His fingers traced the petals of one of the flowers before moving up further. He pushed your panties to the side, gently rubbing your clit. He spread your entrance, teasing it to get you wet enough for him.

Your hands were gripping onto his hair tightly and you threw your head back. Letting him kiss down your neck. Jinyoung kissed down your neck, and you cursed, making him smirk against your skin. Then he pulled away and bent down to grab something from his pocket. It was a condom, you realized, and you almsot facepalmed for not thinking of that any sooner. He rolled it on before taking a step closer and pushing into you, slowly and carefully. He was rocking his hips forward gently, keeping his left thumb steadily rubbing on your clit. You were gasping into his ear, your hands back in his hair and your hold tightening from time to time. Every single time made him groan.

You felt the cool glass against your back and lost all sense of time. How long he was thrusting into you? You didn’t know. The constant stimulation on your clit and the drag of his cock against your walls had you seeing stars far faster tan you had anticipated you came with a sharp gasp before you bit down onto his shoulder. Jinyoung clenched his jaw at the feeling andd pulled out of you, quickly fisting his his cock until he came with a low groan.

For a while you both were quiet, simply trying to catch your breath. Then Jinyoung stepped back. He pulled of the condom and tied it. He turned to you, a small smile on his face. “Shower?“

#got7 #got7 smut #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung #jinyoung smut #got7 jinyoung smut #got7 bambam #got7 jaebum #nora is there too

[choco-glow]

Dance With Me Pt. 1

Traveling over the Nibel mountains, past the heartache of five years ago, the death, the destruction wrought so callously…Tifa never wanted to see those mountains again. She was glad they’d met Vincent, found a formidable ally in the dour gunslinger and his hatred for Hojo, for Shin-Ra…But she hated those mountains with a passion. She was glad when they came out of the last tunnel to find that the clouds that had been dogging their journey since Gongaga had finally broken up, sunshine pouring down richly on the northwestern coastline. The scrub-forest that had filled the mountains faded here, leading to rolling grasslands that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Green grasses, a green as bright as any materia, and full of wildflowers, Tifa paused to breathe in the aromas of a thousand blossoms, Aerith doing the same next to her. The grasses mimicked the sea, waves of soft greens and silver rolling gently over the plains under the sunshine, and for a moment, Tifa forgot about Midgar, Shin-Ra, everything… Even Cloud looked a little stunned; small wonder, they hadn’t seen this much…well, life in far, far too long, save for Aerith’s home in Sector Five. This was glorious though, and it was Barret’s voice, soft and full of longing, that brought them all back. Even Red’s eyes were closed, drinking in the aromas, and Tifa imagined that he was remembering Cosmo Canyon.

“…I could stare at this for hours…but we gotta keep goin’, guys. Sorry…” He murmured, and of all people, it was Cloud who patted his shoulder, shaking himself.

“Nah, you’re right…this is just…this is really gorgeous. Rocket Town shouldn’t be too far away; we can restock there, I think. I don’t see a reactor, which is just a plus at this point.”

“We can, I’ve had traders from Rocket Town come through Nibelheim in the past…” Vincent’s voice, dark and quiet, nonetheless carried, and Yuffie gave him a raised eyebrow, one he met with one of his own. It was rare to see him speak up, and Tifa gave him a faint smile, encouraged when he smiled back, just a tiny quirk of his lips, but it was there, nonetheless, and despite his cool demeanor, he was noticeably friendlier now that they were out of the mountains. Small wonder, given the horrors he suffered; I think being down here on the plains is healing for everyone.

“I thought you stuck to the mansion, Spooky.”

“Not as often as you might think, though I did stay there more than I would have liked. I do know this area, for all that it’s been so long; we can cut right across the plains.” He stared her down, clearly unamused by the nickname, and Yuffie threw her hands up with a sigh.

“Fine, fine…I’ll take point, but I doubt anyone or anything will bug us…” She muttered, stomping into the grasses almost as tall as the ninja herself, and the rest of AVALANCHE followed, taking their time and basking in the sunshine. There was a cool breeze off the coast, much to Tifa’s relief, and the grasses were soft and velvety, rather than saw-edged like some of the places they’d visited. The sun wasn’t too hot here, either, and with fluttery white clouds passing over, there were little patches of shade. The path was clearly a walking trail, well kept with gravel that crunched under their boots and kept free of overgrowth.

Lunchtime found them in a small creek hollow with a few willow trees overhead, a welcome bounty of shade after the trek, because even Tifa was feeling warm, and Vincent looked positively exhausted. The only ones who still looked fresh were Red and Cloud, who looked the most content that Tifa had seen him in years. They settled at the base of a gnarled, ancient willow and worked through the jerky and journey bread without a fire, taking time to test the water before everyone refilled their canteens. This close to the mountains, Tifa was glad to see that most of this was glacial runoff, which meant only one purifying tablet was needed to keep them safe.

Tifa was surprised by the quiet; no one really felt like talking, but there again too, they were all exhausted, and so she settled back in the sunshine with Aerith to nap for a little bit while the boys took care of the water. When Yuffie woke them half an hour later, Tifa felt a little more revived, and Aerith looked positively energetic, and so, they continued on. Yuffie found a road soon enough, and that made their trek to Rocket Town even faster. By the time the sun was heading into the west, they had arrived, and to their surprise, the ‘town’ was…well, less a town, more a tiny, bustling market and a sprawling Shin-Ra tourism base.

The tourists looked wealthy but somewhat vapid, and Tifa breathed a sigh of relief, because no one looked askance at them, nor did anyone challenge them for coming off the road. And they weren’t the only travelers by foot, so that helped them blend in…even Barret was keeping his head down, and Cloud had quietly removed his more obvious SOLDIER gear and stowed it in his pack, looking like a true merc with his sunglasses hiding his glowing green-blue eyes.

However, just from what Tifa could see, the base itself was clearly focused on the enormous rocket and launch pad, with technicians and engineers scuttling all over both like busy bees. Cloud was eyeing them curiously, and so the group decided to split up to get intel. Vincent and Cloud headed towards the rocket, while Barret and Aerith hit the market, Yuffie vanished with Red and Cait Sith, and with a sigh of relief, Tifa started towards the main part of town. The town itself wasn’t big, of course, but it was definitely well established, with three large dorms for the Shin-Ra techs, and a group of well-built houses that led to the main square.

There stood the largest house in town, a manor house, by the looks of things, that had clearly seen better days…But it was in good repair, with a sturdy wrought iron fence, soft blue clapboards the color of the sky, and bright white trim, clearly freshly painted. The garden wasn’t in bad shape either, if a little sparse, but the wild dusty pink roses growing over an old trellis were clearly trimmed back, and sea-irises, a trademark of this area, bloomed in bright teal and pink clusters with their long silver-green leaves all around the house, and to Tifa’s surprise, the yard was clover, rather than grass; the hardy coastal groundcover probably never needed mowing.

A sign at the fence read “Mayor’s House”, and since she still hadn’t seen an inn or a hostel anywhere, Tifa steeled her nerves and opened the gate, making her way across the flagstones to the huge wraparound porch, admiring the tall windows with their half-moon transoms and the lovely set of double doors in front, inset with stained glass in every shade of blue to form fantastical birds. With a deep breath, she raised a fist and knocked sharply on the white-painted wood, stepping back and clasping her hands together before her. Please let the Mayor be kind…

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold yer horses…” A loud male voice, raspy and with a heavy drawl, sounded from inside through the propped open transoms above the front windows, and the door swung open, revealing the owner to be a shirtless, tanned, handsome blond man with an unlit cigarette between his lips and goggles holding his shaggy hair back. He froze, blue eyes widening, and Tifa couldn’t help but stare. In admiration; he was taller than her, though not as tall as Vincent, and built like a model, if a little rougher around the edges. His dark brown leather belt hung undone, which let his jeans slip low over his hips, and she blushed furiously, painting a smile on her face even as her cheeks burned because oh that V-line is too delicious to ignore…

He blushed just as scarlet as she felt, having clearly given her a once over in her short skirt and tank top, eyes lingering on her legs and hips and chest, and normally? She got angry about that. With him, though…Well, it’s not like I didn’t just do the same to him, so turnabout is fair play, she thought with a faint smile, and the Mayor of Rocket Town swiftly pulled on the blue tee shirt that had been dangling from his hand, swearing faintly as he tugged the almost too small shirt down over his chest. “Sorry, miss, I uh, I didn’t mean ta stare at ya…”

“No no, you’re fine! I didn’t mean to interrupt your day, but my friends and I just came over the Nibel mountains, and we were wondering where the best place to stay the night might be? We have camping gear, we just need food and supplies. I’m Tifa, Tifa Lockhart, by the way.” She babbled out, and to her surprise, he listened, which, honestly, was a first, and his blue eyes brightened now, lips curving up in an easy smile that made her smile right back in return, eyes crinkling a little in the soft wrinkles from a life lived in the sun. He was even more handsome with that smile, dark blond stubble softening his strong jawline, and though Tifa had always known she’d had a thing for blonds (Case in point: Cloud), this…was new. New and kinda nice.

“Well then, ya came to the right place, Miss Lockhart; name’s Captain Cid Highwind, and I run Rocket Town; we’re mostly the main aeronautics test range for Shin-Ra anymore, so we don’t have an inn since most o’ the tourists head up into Nibelheim at the end of the day, but y’all’re welcome to stay at my place for the night, Gaia knows I got the room. Our market gets a boost ev’ry Thursday mornin’, so if y’all wanna wait till tomorrow, that’s the best time ta get yer gear. Care for a cuppa tea? Ya look a little parched.” In more ways than one… Tifa thought to herself, but she nodded, happy to finally get off her feet, and as Cid welcomed her into his home, he led her to the kitchen on the left. The living room was clearly storage at the moment, though it opened nicely into the kitchen and an office area that had taken the place of his dining room.

Cid motioned to the table for her to sit, and Tifa eased into one of the wooden chairs with a sigh of relief, moreso when he motioned for her to kick off her boots. “Th’ floor can take it, an’ ya said y’all came over the mountain?” She peeled off her socks and settled her bare feet on the cool tile with a faint groan that made him chuckle, and she caught a glimpse of him tugging his jeans up on his hips and buckling his belt, only a little disappointed.

She watched as Cid puttered around his kitchen, barefoot and obviously on a rare day off, but nonetheless, a gracious and kind host. His kitchen was a little beat up, but lovely, marble countertops were clean, if a little scratched up, and the cupboards were well-made and hung right, even if they were just basic plywood. A battered wood-fired stove crouched in the corner, crooked pipe propped up by several long pieces of rebar, and the tile under their feet was faded, but spotless. From what she could see of the rest of the place, it was much the same way; built up from scratch, and pride, even if it wasn’t the prettiest. She liked that; it reminded her of the bar.

“We did, two days of solid hiking. We tried to rent a truck, but there was no hope for it, and we’re…not exactly doing this for pleasure, I’m afraid.” Cid glanced over from his post at the stove, one eyebrow quirked up, and she sighed, giving him a faint smile…and deciding in that moment to trust him. “I’m sure it’ll come out, so I want to give you a head’s up…but how loyal to Shin-Ra are you?” His other eyebrow went up at that, but Cid brought her the tea as promised, in a lovely red mug that was clearly for special occasions, wrapping his own hands around his cracked dark blue mug as he settled across from her.

“…Enough to do what I want in this life, but otherwise, not terribly; I’m sure you’ve noticed there’s no reactor here.”

“…We have…” Blue eyes, hard as steel now, burned into hers, and she swallowed. He knows who we are...but he won’t betray us. They studied one another in that long moment, Cid’s eyes peering into her soul while she did the same to him, and after a time, he nodded, sharp but resigned.

“An’ there won’t be…but I also ain’t gonna get my whole town burned up fer AVALANCHE.” She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat at the realization, and he motioned for her to drink, sighing as he took a long draught off his own mug. “Palmer’s due here tomorrow afternoon; I’d suggest that you lot get out of here before he shows up so that y’all get a headstart. Bastard’s supp’sed to get me clearance on th’ rocket…but I don’t trust ‘im. But I heard about y’all…an’ I ain’t disagreeing with ya. But I ain’t watchin’ my people get hurt fer a cause, or worse, because Palmer sees a quick an’ easy ‘get outta Heidegger’s bad graces’ card.”

“…I promise, Captain, we won’t cause you any trouble. I swear it. Thank you for being so kind, and opening your home to us, but if you’d like, we can camp outside town…?” His eyes softened at that, and Cid shook his head, settling back with a groan as he stretched. Tifa tried not to watch, but it was hard as that tee shirt crept up, showing off the golden dusting of hair on his lower belly, his jeans sliding down just a little farther…she felt a blush touch her cheeks, and busied herself with her tea.

“Nah, yer all welcome here still; Gaia knows I hate th’ bastards as much as th’ next person. Ain’t gonna make a pretty lady camp outside town just ‘cuz I’m a surly fuck.” She blushed again at that, giggling as he winked, and though she felt warm all over…it was a good warmth. A welcome warmth. Certainly, it was much nicer than what she felt from Cloud at the moment…and seizing the courage, she decided that two could play at that little game. She gave him her best flirty smile and batted her eyelashes, playing up her bartender personality a little more.

“Well, I knew when I knocked that I’d find someone here, but I gotta say, meeting a officer and a gentleman is a rare treat.” Cid paused at that, then threw his head back in an honest laugh, blue eyes glittering with delight as he toasted her with his mug.

“Miss Tifa, that’s th’ best thing I heard all week; yer welcome here anytime. Now then, I think some barbecue’ll do the trick for supper if ya wanna call yer friends.”

“Gladly, Captain. Gladly.”

#FFVII #Final Fantasy VII #FFVIIR #Final Fantasy VII Remake #Cid Highwind #HighHeart #Lockwind #meetcute #rarepair #One of my personal favorites #Bonus points if you know where the title comes from #Vincent Valentine #Barret Wallace #Cloud Strife #Yuffie Kisaragi #Aerith Gainsborough #Red XIII #Nanaki #Cait Sith #edits for readibility #sorry about the backslashes i share with friends on whatsapp and italics never cross over #Tifa Lockhart

[engineeredfiction]

Solace Among the Stars Ch.1 “The Stranger”

Finally here.

Rating: PG-13 

What: Crossover fanfiction comprising of themes and elements from: The Expanse, Blade Runner, Prospect(2018)

Characters: All original characters except for Ezra and Murtry. OC are based on actors I like such as Tobias Menzies (Greer) and Adele Haenel (Allard).

Plot: A group of banned Earthers attempt to improve their life beyond their home system, but come up against a powerful enemy.

Mood board is here. You can also check out the ‘sol mood’ tag

Aaaaaand if you would like to listen to music to put you in the mood then check out the playlist. I’ll be adding to it as time goes on.

Special thanks: @tom-riddleston-me and @yourpalmoony for being beta readers! I appreciate the time and effort!

   Keane was conscious long enough to feel her saliva boil off her tongue and the formerly inert nitrogen gas bubbled in her blood caused intense pain. Her instinctive nature forced her body to scramble back to the lander a few meters away. Yet, everything went black after seconds of the forlorn effort.

   The stench of stale metallic air woke Keane up from what felt like a deep slumber. This was not a sickbay or her ship. A dark and empty bar surrounded her; the only source of light was coming from the two windows on either side of the door. The deteriorated wooden floor creaked under her stillness. Behind there was a pack, it must be hers.  A tumbler of substance was in front of her; she cautiously brought it to her nose. Whiskey. She threw it back, picked up the pack, and pulled open the door. Tall grey mountains surrounded the desolate building , so tall in fact they nearly blocked out the light. Not far in front a path was laid out that led to a thick pine forest. She felt an internal pull towards the path.

   The forest was silent except for the sound of her feet hitting the ground. Her passing seemed to echo between the trees. There was no fear in her which she thought was strange. Ahead the scenery changed, there was a small warm glow at the end of the path and it grew in size with every step. Just before she reached the natural exit she was perplexed by the sight of tall sand dunes in front of her. 

   She walked into a clearing where the grass gradually turned into sand. To her left and right stood a clear line of trees that went on forever in both directions. The mountains loomed behind them.  Keane continued to follow the internal pull in her gut and walked up a dune. Once she reached the summit she paused to look around her. The desert only extended ten kilometers in front of her. Snow peaked mountains surrounded it and the smell of pine was strong. The wind was soft and the small grains of sand drifted over each other. For the first time she heard a sound that she didn’t make. She stood still and felt the wind blow through her long loose strands of hair.

   Her breath quickened when she realised she had no idea where she was or why she was there. Her wonder was interrupted by movement a few dunes over. A figure was making its way over to her.. The figure was getting closer, but she couldn’t make out who it was. 

   A man? 

   New smells reached her nose, a scent of alcohol and blood. Immediately, her joints started to ache and her left hand felt like it was fire. She looked down to the terrifying sight of her hand profusely bleeding, torn to shreds, and with bones sticking out.

   Her mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. The figure was approaching, but took no notice to the gory injury.  Her head lolled back as nausea and vertigo became overwhelming. The fall into the warm darkness  was slow.

*************************************************************************************

   Keane’s eyes fluttered open. Seated in a hyperbaric chamber with a window on the door she slowly bent over in the reclined chair to see medical staff tending to patients. Her head throbbed and she squeezed her eyes shut. Pain radiated through every limb and settled in the joints. Her hand. She looked down and saw her left hand in a clear rectangle contraption. Below the wrist was a clean sawed line and a new skeletal hand was attached. Lasers travelled back and forth scanning and dispensing bio fluids to start the construction of the nerves. She swallowed and closed her eyes again. Her mouth was dry and her body relaxed.

   Morphine, she guessed to herself, that’s good. 

   She tried to remember what happened. Someone was attacking the lander. Greer was ahead of her and he was aiming at someone in the rocky mountains. Or was it the field? The field beside the mountains? It was nighttime. Keane didn’t see who shot her. She clenched her teeth to swallow the nausea. Whoever the perpetrator was, nearly killed her by decompressing her suit to the vacuum of space. 

  She leaned forward again and peered out the window. The medical staff were no longer tending to the patient closest to her and she got a wide view of the sickbay. None of her crew were in the other chairs. This could be good or very bad. The patient in the chair closest to her chamber was getting a limb regrowth procedure for his right arm. The skeleton and nerves of his arm were complete and the lasers started to build up the muscle system. He was reclined back and sleeping. His hair was wet with grime and sweat. The tuffs of brown hair matted to his face. He had a blond patch above his brow. Her study of the man was interrupted by the appearance of Greer.

   He strode in with confidence and charm that Keane was well acquainted with over the past two years. Greer spotted her face in the window after a quick glance of the hyperbaric pods. He smiled with  relief and gave her an okay hand symbol with a questioning look. 

   Behind Keane’s returned smile was pain and weakness, but she gave a thumbs up. Greer peered in with curiosity and saw her soon to be new hand. 

   “Cool,” he remarked. His baritone British voice sounded muffled and faint through the door. “Another two days and you’re out. Allard and Murtry are fine, they’re worried about you,” he added.

   Keane nodded and gave another thumbs up. His smile reassured her about the rest of the crew and he left the sick bay for her to heal in peace.

   Two days came and went. The doctor finished Keane’s final health evaluation. Her health had returned and her limb regrowth had been completed. She admired her new hand, which now had a new set of fingerprints. She thought it funny, if she had ever been booked for a crime it would set off confusion if anyone tried to accuse her based on her former fingerprints. 

   “Surprisingly the CT scan found no brain damage,” the doctor stated without looking up from her tablet, “your heart stopped for a little over seven minutes. Your crewmate….Greer did CPR for five minutes and you spontaneously resuscitated about two minutes after.”  She didn’t hear a reaction from Keane and so peered over her the device, “with no brain damage that is impressive.”

   Keane felt the lump wedged in her throat. She fixated on a stain on the floor ahead of her.

   “You’ll have a weird tingling sensation for the next week or two,” the doctor calmly stated. “If you follow the rehabilitation guidelines I sent to your PCA that new hand will feel like your original. Or better.” 

   “Thank you,” Keane acknowledged and promptly gathered her personal belongings into her weekend bag that Greer brought to her. She opened it and the odor of stale sweat and blood wafted up. Her nose scrunched up and she knew her next destination. 

*************************************************************************************

   Arcadia Station-Alpha is the last bastion of civilization this far out from the Primus System. The Primus System is home to Earth. When humans advanced enough to travel the further reaches of space through The Ring, what was then known as The Solar System needed a new name. Arcadia bore the title Alpha due to its size and grandeur. One of the many luxuries it housed was a public bath. For a few credits a traveller could get cleaned and soak in a pool of heated grey water. The aesthetic of the public bath recalls the glory of Roman architecture. In the midst of modern appearances and technology a revival of ancient art and decor made its way throughout the human inhabited Universe.      

   Keane departed Arcadia’s sickbay and strolled to the bathhouse; where the gentle floral aromas drifted throughout its dimly lit rooms.  In the locker room, she fully undressed, saved for sandals and a towel that were given at reception. She stepped into the busy shower room and turned an unoccupied  faucet to hot. The steam rose up  as she vigorously scrubbed off the scent of sweat and iodoform. She stood still under the showerhead letting the hot water roll over her body. 

   A desert in the middle of the mountains. A cool sandy desert. Earth? Somewhere else? Made up, most likely.

   Keane exited the bathhouse and the clean clothes felt refreshing against her skin. She smiled in comfort at the immediate sight of her crew. They waited at the foot of the stairs to the bathhouse. Greer, Allard, the pilot, and Murtry, who assigned himself the role of security area manager, chatted amongst themselves. Murtry was the first one to see Keane exiting the bathhouse.

   “Good to see you’re alive and well!” Murtry exclaimed. He gave her a casual hug, “How’s the hand?”

   Keane offered her hand lady-like, “As good as new. Feels a bit funny at the moment, but it should go away in a week or two and back to full strength in a month,” she changed topics, “fuck those guys. What the hell were they doing?”

   “Apparently it was an accident.” Greer added.

   “How?”

   “He…simply said…he thought we were raiders.”

   “We were picking up civilians.”

   Greer shrugged, “That’s what he said. His name is Axtin and he’s part of Terra Corp. They’re going to get slapped with another violation for this. Probably put them out for awhile.”

   “Good riddance!” Murtry hummed.

   “Someone has to topple the giant, it might as well be you,” Allard jested in her thick French accent. 

   “With my life,” Keane sighed, “I’m starving.”

*************************************************************************************

   Another part of Arcadia’s grandeur was the fifth level dining halls. They boasted meals for those on the go to the multiple course sit down affair. The level bustled with a variety of travellers and station workers. Some were well-dressed and others covered in grime. The rough ones were usually floaters who worked independently and performed random odd jobs. The money to be made was in harvesting resources from the assorted planets and moons within the half parsex area. 

   The sushi restaurant bustled with customers, some crammed up to the bar and the rest squeezed into tables in the cramped space. The crew sat shoulder to shoulder at the bar with little words exchanged as they quickly ate their food. Keane waved her hand quickly any time the prickly sensation became too much and somehow the movement calmed the new nerves.

   Between mouthfuls of ramen Allard asked, “You know what they call that feeling? Of a new limb.”

   “Oh ‘the stranger’.” interjected Greer.

   “Yeah because when you masturbate it feels like someone else.” Keane quipped. 

   “Really?” asked Murtry.

   “I don’t know…yet.” 

   Keane and Murtry chuckled. She was the only crew member Murtry felt, if only a tad bit, close to on a personal level. He admired her dry sense of humour. 

   A shadowy figure appeared behind them revealed himself under the neon glow of the bar’s sign. The four paused their eating to look up at this newcomer. His face was heavy with scars, but his clothing was finely made. After a few beats the man cleared his throat.

  “Which one of you is Captain Greer?” his voice was low and rough.

  Greer stood up from his seat to get on the same eye level, “I am.”

  “Mr. Wallis of Terra Corp would like you to join him for a drink in his office.”

  “When?”

   “Now.”

   Greer looked back at his crew and was met with silence. Keane gave him a nod.

   “Can’t hurt can it?” she whispered.

   Greer hesitated, “Sure.”

Chapter 2

Taglist (for those that asked and who I think might be interested, if you want to be removed send me a message):

@pascalisthepunkest @dindjarindiaries @pedropascalisadilf @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @a-carnie-and-a-cop @rzrcrst

#solace among the stars #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #science fiction #sci fi #scifi #the expanse #blade runner #prospect (2018) #burn gorman #tobias menzies #adele haenel #pedro pascal #murtry #ezra #ezra prospect #writing #space travel

[an-actual-angel]

Pretty Baby: Chapter 14 - 15

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.”

You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

Chapter Description: Connor convinces Collin to spend his day off with you.

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KOFI

Chapter 14 - Heaven Help Us

Your name: submit What is this?

You woke up surprisingly early that day. You had planned to get up early to show off your new clothes to Connor before he left for work. You were excited, finally owning something of your own and you wanted to share in that excitement with a friend.

After getting dressed and brushing out your hair you ran to the living room to see who was about. Sure enough, Connor was up and reading through the news on his tablet.

“Tada!” you call out, arms stretched as you present your fashion choice of the day.

“You look great!” Connor beamed out in a wide smile. A blush accompanied with a silly giggle was your response. 

“Yeah, looking real cute.” Collin adds as he saunters into the living room.

“Don't I just.” You joke back, making Collin chuckle a little before plopping down beside Connor.

“It’s a nice day.” You take note of the sun shining through the window as you sit at Connors other side. Connor nods in agreement.“It's a shame you're working, we could have done something.” You sigh looking up at the sky through the glass.

“Collin’s off today!” Connor replies, his head snapping in his brother's direction.

Collin's face falls flat when he meets Connor's gaze.

“You two could do something!” 

“Come on, Con. I have better things to be doing.” Collin looks at you with a bit of displeasure. He was not in the mood to 'Babysit.'

Connor turns to look at you with a grin once more before turning back to his brother with his best puppy dog face. Connor knew how bored and lonely you could become when left alone. He also knew how much you really appreciated being out.

“Please, it would mean a lot if you kept her company.” He pleads with the younger model. “You needed to go into the city today anyway, just bring Y/N along as well.” 

His argument was pretty valid.

Collin looks at you with annoyance before finally agreeing. “As long as you promise to behave.”

 “Cross my heart and hope to die.” You tease Collin. He looks back to Connor as if that say 'are you happy now?'

Connor and you simply share a look of contentment, a look that falls flat once you notice icy eyes scanning over you. Richard had been watching.

 A fake cough used to announce his presence left his throat. He took note of the fact you were now wearing clothes that had not been assigned to you.

“Richard.” Connor greets him coldly. Richard nods back to his brothers, brows tilted down as they usually were, although he looks slightly more displeased than usual. He left without saying much else. His brothers where both surprised at this, they thought he may start up some sort of argument or drama but no, not this time. 

You bit at your lower lip until he was completely out of sight. You weren't really sure how to feel at this point.

___

An hour or two after Connor had left for work, Collin had called out to you.

“I'm going into town soon, are you ready?”

“Since this morning.” You chimed back. 

Collin nods sliding on his leather jacket. “Then come on.”

You follow him down into the building's garage and notice his LED flashing to unlock the doors of his matte black jeep.

“What's on the agenda today?” You peep up as you hop into the passenger side of his car. Collin looks over at you, as he lifts his sunglasses up off the dashboard and puts them on. His face is blank. You never really knew what was going on in his head half the time. 

Still waiting for his answer you call out his name as if to check he was still awake.  You freeze up for a moment when you notice him moving closer to you, arm stretching out to your side.He pulls your seat belt over you before buckling it. You finally let yourself exhale when he turns back to his side of the vehicle. 

“Don't get me in any type of trouble today, okay?” He says starting up the car. 

You just nod, out of things to say. Collin drives for a bit until you're into the more central part of the city. When he finds a decent parking space, the two of you get out. He had planned to do a bit of shopping today. Connor had also left him a list of food to pick up for you, something he wasn't too pleased about either. 

You had noticed Collin to be very hot and cold with his approach towards you. You could never tell if today was going to be a friendly day or not. You thought that perhaps Richard’s bitterness that morning had shaken him up slightly. 

You guess you could try talking him around. He was walking slightly ahead of you so you did a little sprint to catch up.

“Thanks for taking me out today, Collin.”

“Yeah.” He said blankly. 

Gosh, he could be difficult to talk to sometimes. You weren’t going to give up. Today would be long as hell if this awkwardness kept up.

You noticed you were both walking past the Animal Shelter you were taken to that time you had ran away.

“Ugh, this place.” You scoffed as you both walked past. His face was still unmoving. Maybe that wouldn’t be the best topic of discussion, it would probably only remind him of the time you got him in trouble with Richard. 

Should you apologise for that?

“Look.” You speak up, tugging lightly on his arm to stop him so you could finally gain his attention. 

“I know things have been weird with Richard.” You begin again. He raises an eyebrow to you. You sigh.

 “I'm trying and-” 

Before you can so much as speak another word an exploding sound erupts in your ears. With a flash, you fall flat to the ground, something heavy now on top of you.

God, what was that? 

You struggle to lift your head to look at the slightly cut palms of your hands that had brushed against the ground on impact. You also notice bits of blood scattered around only, It wasn't yours. It was blue... 

“Collin?” You call out, your vision still trying to focus. You take notice of the heavy feeling still on you. With an attempt to pull yourself up and away from the weight you finally notice what it was, Collin had thrown himself on you when the explosion hit. His bloodied body now on top of you.

A grunting sound escapes past his lips as you attempt to turn around whilst still holding onto him. He was still alive, just a bit damaged.

You began to hear shouting and jeering. Figures dressed in black clothing ran and scattered through the wreckage, following along with them were humans that had escaped from the Animal Shelter. 

That's what blew up... A whole wall had been torn down.

Was this, a rescue mission? The dark figures called out to be followed, you'd seen them before somewhere.

Yes; in the news! They looked similar to the humans on the news! The ones from the wild! Wait, this could be your moment to escape! Freedom was right in front of you. Collin wouldn't be able to stop you either. You could get up and run, for the first time in your life. 

You pushed yourself free from under Collin, settling him down gently before your final escape. As you lay his head down on the pavement, your name brushed past his lips. His eyes opened softly to reveal one was dark blue and bloodied, his white plastic body under showing through on his cheek. Your breath caught in your throat.

 You shook your head, you had to leave. You just had to. But… The sight of Collin, in this state… 

It was too much.You knew he threw himself on you to protect you from the blast, you couldn't leave him like this. 

You sat down beside him taking his hand in yours. He repeated your name. 

“You're going to be okay.” You whimpered back, placing your free hand on his damaged cheek before finally fishing through his pockets for his phone.

It was still intact. 

“I’ll call Connor. He will fix this.” 

____________________________________________________________

Chapter 15

You could tell he was worried, not only because of his flashing red LED but the way his whole face seemed to look upturned. As he attempted to hold his shaking hands still, you brushed a finger against the back of his left hand, Cautious to see if it would help or not. Connor sighed audibly as he took your hand into both of his and held his head down. You didn't really know what to say. What could you say? You just looked at him through your half-lidded eyes.

Luckily Connor hadn’t been working too far away from where the accident had happened. You both had brought Collin to the nearest hospital to get repaired. Once Collin was safe and being taken care of Connor had called Richard who had been made aware of the incident but was shocked to find out his brother had been caught in the middle.

You and Connor had been sat quietly in the waiting area for what felt like forever. With his head between his shoulders, Connor was attempting to find words to say. You and him both. Neither of you knowing how to give or receive comfort from other than the brief physical ‘intimacy’ of holding onto the other’s hand.

He wanted to thank you for calling him, for keeping your cool in the moment and knowing what to do but he didn’t know how to voice these things. The thought of something happening to Collin had him out of sorts.

Both of you looked at each other in silence you almost knew exactly what he wanted to say. This moment was cut short when both of your attention had been pulled towards a booming voice in the hallway. It didn't take too long to figure out who it was coming from.

Richard had made quite an entrance, hospital staff following along in an attempt to settle him. Connor stood up, immediately letting go of your hand once he caught sight of his brother.

"Where is he?" Richard demanded upon his arrival.

“He's getting fixed up.” Connor exhaled, “He should be alright.”

Richard’s eyes then flickered over to you, still sitting down.

Richard walked over to you and practically threw himself to his knees to meet your gaze. His eyes moved over your face and down your arm as he softly held onto your wrist to look at your scraped up palms and shook his head.

"Are you alright, little lamb." He finally spoke looking back to your eyes.

You nod slowly, unblinking from his gaze.

“You saved our brother.” He began to gently rub your wrist.

You shook your head in return, pulling your arm back away. “No, he saved me.”

Richard looked over his shoulder at Connor for confirmation.

Connor nodded to him. “He sheltered her from the blast.”

Something stirred on Richard's face, something unfamiliar. He really didn't think that Collin would have done that for a human. Although Richard would not admit it, he was glad that he did it for you.

“You could have ran, it was humans who did this. You could have joined them, but you stayed.” Richard spoke to you although it seemed more that he was thinking out loud rather than accusing.

You shook your head. “I couldn't.”

He was baffled.

why did you stay?

Connor placed his hand on Richard's shoulder as if to tell him to ease off of you, to which Richard actually listened for a change.

He excused himself for a moment to go for a walk. Connor nodded understanding that Richard was never good with things like this. He probably just needed some time to process things.

It wasn't too long until you were all allowed to see Collin. He was sat up on a bed fully recovered, fixed up and smiling his usual cheeky smile.

“You feeling okay?” Connor asked as soon as he caught Collins gaze.

“Peachy.” Collins upper lip curved as he had spotted you almost hiding behind Connor. He wondered for a minute why until Richard's face turned the corner, then it was apparent.

With all of you now in the small room, a member of the hospital staff was then able to explain that because the RK800 models were so rare they had to make do with some temporary parts. New parts for Collin where to be ordered in but they had to be remanufactured first, which could take a couple of days. His temporary parts would keep him going until then but he would be ordered to take it easy. It was mainly his inner bio components and his left side that had been damaged so apart from the temporary visage of his left-hand deskinning every few seconds he looked like his regular self.

Collin didn’t seem too phased by this information he was mainly just a bit annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to partake in his daily (and nightly) activities/escapades.  

___

A short while later the four of you were back at the apartment again. His brothers had brought Collin to his bedroom and helped him settle in. Connor had gone full-on mother hen, fluffing Collin’s pillows, fixing his blanket and making sure he was okay. Of course, Collin wasn’t a big fan of the fuss and kept saying that he was fine but that wasn’t going to stop the other two from trying to look after him.

You watched from a distance, trying not to intervene too much but it was sweet to see them looking after each other like this, however much Collin protested. Eventually, they left him with the television on before making sure he would call out to them if he needed anything.

Richard was the first to leave Collins room, he noticed you trying to hide, peeking out from behind a plant.

“Come on.” He sighed, calling you forward to come out from hiding. When you moved out into the open he slunk his arm around your back and led you to the kitchen to talk in a bit more of a private setting.

You rubbed at your bruised hands entering into the room, a gasp escaped your mouth as Richard grabbed you by the hips and placed you on top of the counter. Once you were set in place he went to run a tea towel under the sink and began speaking out to you.

“You were very brave today.” He twisted the excess water from the towel before moving back towards you.

“You should be proud of that.” Your eyes met when he spoke. He lifted your hands towards him and began to clean the dirt and grime that had remained on your hands from earlier.

You hissed as the wet towel touched your cuts. He shushed you softly as he finished cleaning your hands up. Setting the towel down he pulled out some Aloe Vera gel from one of the cupboards and smoothed it over your hands. He must have been prepared for accidents to happen if he had Aloe Vera on hold.

You bit at your lip as he wiped his hands on the tea towel again before resting his arm on the counter next to where you sat. His stare remained steady on you but you still hadn’t said a word to him.

With a sigh, he finally spoke, “Connor and I still both have to go into work tomorrow.” You nodded and shrugged, not knowing what he was getting at.

Richard placed his hand on the bottom of your chin. “Can I count on you to look after Collin?”

You swiped your chin away from him and moved off the counter. Richard's face fell in disappointment.

“I’ll look after him, but I’m not doing it for you.” Was what you said before leaving.

It was obvious that you were still upset with Richard. You didn't care if he was acting nice again all of a sudden, he would have to apologise if he wanted your attention.

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#detroit become human #rk800 x reader #rk900 x reader #rk800-60 x reader #detroit become human fan fic #detroit connor #Detroit: BH #connor x reader #rk800 #connor rk800 #rk800-60 #rk900 #rk900 x reader x rk800 #rk800 x reader x rk900 #rk brothers #fic: pretty baby #My writing #ao3 #my fanfiction #dbh fanfic #dbh au

[deamstellarus]

In Viata Asta (3)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Uhm…none? Maybe injuries and language?

A/N: Sorry this update is so late! My work schedule was shit last week so I was behind on editing and posting. So! I thought posting a little early would help make up for it, and it’s the longest so far? Also yes I know, this gif doesn’t have that much to do with this update but I love how it looks.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up to murmured voices and mechanical beeps. You were in a bed in a very white room. You could only assume it was the infirmary of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Several IVs were attached to your arm. A woman with long dark hair in a bun and a white lab coat jotted something down on a clipboard beside you, then took her leave silently. Something was making your brain feel hazy. Your bets were on the strong antiseptics in the air, but it was more likely whatever pain meds they were feeding you. Your hand was bandaged now, your back probably was too for how tight it felt. You started to sit up in bed.

“You don’t want to do that, zvezdochka. With your luck, you’d probably pull all your stitches.” Natasha sat next to your bed in an uncomfortable chair, staring intensely at the screen of her tablet. She set it down on the small side table next to you, and pushed a button on a remote. Your bed shifted you into a seated position. She held a white cup with a straw to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool water soothing your dry throat. 

“How long...?” You croaked. 

“Only twenty-four hours. You lost a decent amount of blood but we got you back soon enough.”

Then why did it feel like you were laying on fire?

“Your back was practically shredded from the rocks.” Had you said that out loud? “You needed a few stitches but you’ll be fine. The boys should be back in a few minutes with snacks, if you’re hungry.”

You nodded. Or tried to; your neck was stiff. Natasha went back to her tablet, so you closed your eyes for a few more minutes before Steve and Sam’s voices echoed through the otherwise quiet space.

“Look who’s up. Miss Rough and Tumble.” Sam’s toothy grin lit up the room.

“How are you feeling, Blue?” Steve’s ocean eyes were filled with concern. He looked perfectly okay. As if he hadn’t almost drowned in an evil river. Stupid super soldier serum.

“Just peachy, Cap.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Sorry… Steve.” You smirked. Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. He chuckled and plopped the white paper bag he held on your lap. You opened it, smiling to yourself when you found a couple buttery croissants and one of those twisted glazed doughnuts. Natasha was giving away all of your secrets it seems. You chose a croissant, biting into the warm, flaky pastry. It was glorious.

“I see you still can't go very long without getting yourself into some kind of trouble," a familiar voice said. 

"Sorry, sir,  I—" Steve started before you cut him off.

"To be fair, I was doing fine on my own until these hooligans showed up." You muttered, mouth full, lazily gesturing to Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who stared at you indignantly.

"Don't be like that, Baby Blue!"

Fury looked unimpressed. "Excuses are—"

“...just lies we tell ourselves to justify doing something poorly." You finished his phrase, then swallowed. "It's nice to see you too, Nick."

"Nick?" Sam gasped.

"What, did you think his name was just Fury?"

"He doesn't exactly like when anyone calls him that," Sam grumbled.

"Aww, Nick! I knew you were going soft on me." 

Fury grunted, but eventually relented and came over to pat your shoulder until you flinched at his touch.

"Heal up, Agent. We’ll talk about the incident when you’re standing on your own two feet again," he said as he walked to the door.

"Not an agent," you called after him.

"We'll see about that." He threw out.

You pouted. You knew it was unbecoming of you, but this is what you'd been dreading. You didn't want to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. That time of your life turned out to be so traumatic you ended up in a cabin by yourself for two years. But the reality is, you knew he'd get his way in the end. He always did.

__________

As far as doctors went, Dr. Alexandra Marks was patient and kind, and clearly had years of experience dealing with agents that tended to make reappearances in her infirmary. She was thorough with her diagnostics and made sure to emphasize what you could, but more importantly could not, do while you were in the recovery phase. Stitches, a heavy dose of fluids, and an advanced topical solution to help “speed up cell production”, and you were patched together the best you could be. Supposedly, they had a machine that was designed to generate skin, called the Cradle. It could have prevented the scarring, but it was out of commission due to an update or something. To be honest, it sounded too much like a cross between a crazy science experiment and a magic trick. Just the thought made you wary.  

“While you’re still lucid, I need you to give me a report of what happened,” Natasha said after Dr. Marks and the boys left. She attached a keyboard to her tablet, pulling the kickstand out so the whole thing could rest on the bed tray. “It’s just better to do this while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned at the screen. Blips of the incident flashed through your mind. “Honestly, I’m not too sure what I actually remember. It feels like it’s all a blur.”

“Any little detail helps,” she pushed. “Anything at all.” 

Weren’t those guys just Hydra goons though? But if that were the case, then why did it feel like there’s something more to this?

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Her face went through a series of micro-expressions that you would have missed had you not known to look for them.

“Is it not Hydra that came after us?”

“We don’t know. But… it doesn’t look like it at this point.” She sighed. “Just write the report for now.”

“Okay.”

So you did. Any little thing you could remember from the men to the river, you included in your retelling. For the most part, you didn’t remember the men standing out in any way more than they seemed out of place in the general store. The majority of the normal clientele wore flannels, sweatshirts, or thick hunting jackets. The sleek black jackets and black caps they’d been wearing made them stand out. That being said, everything was nondescript, no labels, no logos. Pretty generic bad guys if you were being honest. The only thing you could think of was the small tattoo on the side of one of their necks, but you hadn’t been close enough to see the actual design. 

Maybe that was just you being paranoid and projecting. The tattoo was probably just a tattoo. 

A couple hours later, Dr. Marks released you, with a promise that you wouldn’t do “anything unnecessary like your troublemaker friends.” You snickered at that.  

Natasha gave you a tour of what you now learned was the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been running part of the agency out of the side buildings that were part of the campus since they re-established, while there was still a segment in D.C. She pointed out the different buildings and rooms during the brief tour, but you were distracted, rightfully so, by the sheer amount of agents that gave you judgemental stares the entire way to the main Avengers building. You steeled your nerves; you wouldn’t give them anything more before you could physically defend yourself.

You stepped into an elevator after Natasha, the smooth doors sliding silently shut behind you. You allowed your shoulders a break from the stiff, upright posture you’d taken.

“You alright?” Natasha asked.

“Yup.”

“Ignore them. The most fun the majority of them have is over rumors and gossip.” Natasha said. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., third floor please.”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,” a voice responded from above.

“A.I.?” you questioned. Natasha nodded. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony’s creations. She’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Huh, well thanks in advance then, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“It’s my pleasure… I cannot find your identification in any system, miss. What shall I call you?”

“Oh, you can call me Blue?”

“Very well. Enjoy your stay, Blue.”

The doors opened, revealing a hallway that lead to the left and right of the elevator and seemingly wrapped around the perimeter of the building. In the center, you were able to look down over a common area of sorts, with a variety of couches, tables, an oversized TV, and a kitchen off to the side. Natasha turned to the right, passing several doors before she stopped.

“This is your room.”

The door in front of you was a glossy white with a biometric scanner to the side. 

“Put your hand to the scanner,” she said. You did. A blue light shone through your hand, then with a soft click, the door slid open. The room was bigger than you thought it’d be, but knowing who owned the building, you didn’t expect anything less. There was a plush bed on one side of the room, a desk with a swivel chair on the opposite wall. Tall windows allowed natural light in the space. A fluffy rug and long drapes helped make the room less cold and clinical. But that wasn’t what drew your attention the most. 

Draped across the bed was the plush purple blanket Clint had bought you when you were first brought back to headquarters. It was so, so soft. On top of that was your green duffle bag. It was the one thing you took with you everywhere. It stayed stocked and ready for if you needed to leave at short notice.

“Thank you, Natasha.” 

“Of course,” she nodded.

"No chance of me going back to the cabin, huh?" You asked. Because as lonely as it had been there, it was yours, for the most part, and had become your safe place.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Blue. It wasn't discovered yet, but now they've seen your face, they know you're in the area. We can't take that chance."

You knew that, of course. She only confirmed it.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom behind that door, and a walk-in closet next to it,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s not the cabin, but it’s a good place to stay. You’ll like it here,” You nodded. 

She pulled you into her arms, her hands holding you like she didn't want to let go. 

"You scared me, zvezdochka," she whispered into your hair. 

"I know. I’m sorry.” It was rare for her to show so much emotion. As long as you’d known her, Natasha had always kept her feelings hidden.

A cough at the door disrupted the mood. 

“What does a guy have to do to get the famous Widow to hold him like that?” The man leaned against the door frame, dressed in jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. It seemed far too casual for such a well-known billionaire.

Beside you, Natasha pulled away and rolled her eyes. Like a switch, her blasé facade was back in full force.

“Tony, this is Blue. Blue, Tony Stark,” she introduced.

“What kind of name is Blue?” 

“It’s a nickname,” you said.

“Uh huh.” He squinted at you. “And your real name would be?”

“Leave it alone, Stark,” Natasha growled.

“I just find it strange that not only is there no record of her in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database, but I can’t find her anywhere. Not a name, a city, a school, medical record. Nothing.”

Natasha bristled. Her eyes were narrowed slits. “I said leave it alone, Stark. She’s a personal friend of mine and Barton’s. Leave it alone.”

Tony glared at Natasha for a moment before yielding. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this later.” To you, he said, “Welcome to the compound, kid.”

He took his leave, and Natasha shook her head. 

“He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know everything about something or someone. Unfortunately, he will get his way eventually. He’s pushy, but it comes from a good place.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tasha. I can handle him. Besides, I am living under his roof for now, he has a right to know what he wants to know.” 

“Only if you want to.” She puts a hand to your shoulder, before she walks to the door. But his inquiry did make you wonder…

“Why isn’t there a SHIELD file for me, or at least Agent M?”

“It may have gotten...lost when I released the files to the public.” 

“You deleted mine instead of yours?” You remember she had a list of aliases, most from before she joined “the good guys.”

She shrugged. “It was time for a new chapter anyway.” She waved it off as if it meant nothing, but she risked her own neck so you could remain nameless.

“Thank you, sestrenka.” She was always looking out for you.

“Dinner is at six. You’ll meet most of the rest of the team then. Take a nap, you look like you need it.” She winked.

“Tell me the truth, how bad does it look?” You tilted your head, indicating your back.

“Eh, it’s just a few stitches.” With that, she left, copper curls bouncing behind her. And really you had no choice but to take a nap like she said. Especially when the bed looked that comfortable. __________

Natasha lied. That was your only thought as you looked at your body in the mirror of your bathroom. It was not just a few stitches. Forty-seven in total. You cringed as you read off the report FRIDAY supplied. Hearing it from Dr. Marks, and reading it off the report, hadn’t quite prepared you visually for the reality of your injuries. From what you could tell, your back was covered in black zig-zags, reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster. At least as much as you could see that peeked out from underneath the white bandages and gauze. Plum-colored splotches covered your body. In addition to your back, your right hand also received six stitches, and your sprained ankle was now wrapped. And there were bags under your eyes. You looked awful and felt like a walking bruise. 

“The meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes, Blue,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled you.

“Thanks.” You’d have to get used to never quite being alone alone. 

Dinner passed by pretty well the night before, by your standards at least. Tony had apologized for his aggressive questioning, with a nudge from Pepper Potts, however wary of you he may still be. That was alright for now. Steve and Sam had taken the initiative to make you feel included in the conversations, though you were more content to observe the people around you. You were introduced to Col. James Rhodes, who had a dry sense of humor and held himself like a military man, and Dr. Bruce Banner, whose alter ego was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered man that had sat beside you. By far, the most fascinating member you’d met was Vision, an android with an English accent who reminded you vaguely of a curious child. 

Now you were heading to a meeting Fury requested you attend. A loose-fitted tee and a pair of sweatpants and you were on your way out the door, wishing you’d had the forethought to have packed makeup in your duffle bag. While you never needed it on the mountain, it would have helped make you look marginally more presentable and less dead. Especially on the walk through the interconnected buildings to the conference room where you stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Natasha could take you out to pick some things up soon.

You cracked the door open. Eight and a half pairs of eyes followed you to the empty seat next to Sam. You were the last one there. Of course. Fury stood at the head of the table, Maria Hill next to him, arms behind her back. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. Steve, Natasha, Tony, and three agents in uniform filled out the rest of the table. A projection screen behind Fury exhibited pictures of several men you didn’t recognize. 

“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Fury said. He pointed between two of the five pictures on the screen. “These two men matched the facial recognition we were able to get off the cameras at the general store where the Captain and Agent M were first shot at, amongst civilians. There were no casualties in the store.”

You squinted. The men looked familiar now, especially without the hats to obstruct their faces. In the right image was the man you’d known to have the tattoo. Now that you could see it, on the left side of his neck, the small symbol looked like three triangles overlapping.

“They were found dead in their vehicle on the side of the road, SUV wrapped around a tree. This is confirmed with the reports Captain Rogers and Agent M gave upon arrival.” He pointed to the next two images. “These two were killed on sight by the extraction team in search of the Captain and Agent M.” He pointed to the last of the five head shots. “This last man was interrogated briefly by Agent Romanoff before he was terminated.”

“So were they Hydra agents from the mountain base?” Steve asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Not exactly,” Fury said.

“He wasn’t Hydra,” Natasha said. “He said Hydra was a group run by hot-headed leaders with imperfect ideals. He said what they were was bigger and better than Hydra could ever hope to be.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Steve pressed.

Natasha shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that there were more of them and now that they had a ‘confirmation,’” she made quotes with her fingers, “they’d have all they needed soon enough to execute the program. He didn’t elaborate on what the program was or what exactly they’d confirmed. But before I could really press him for more, he killed himself. Cyanide tooth capsule.”

“Long story short, we’re led to believe these were not Hydra agents that tracked the two of you down. There were no markings on the body that would express allegiance to the group, nor did any declare their motto.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam questioned.

“I’m saying there is another organization who has at least one of the two of you as their target of interest and until we know who they are, you need to watch your backs.”

“No offense, sir,” one of the agents began. “But what would terrorist organization want with her?” She was pretty, blonde, and had an intense look about her. She wasn’t outright rude, she had a point at least; you’ve basically been in isolation for two years. Besides, she had to be more than capable to be in this room to begin with; that didn’t mean her comment didn’t irk you. You pushed down the urge to get defensive, and schooled your face into a neutral mask.

Simultaneously, all eyes were on you.

“At the moment we’re not quite sure,” Fury admitted. “Agent M’s official history within S.H.I.E.L.D. is otherwise non-existent as far as the database is concerned. However, that doesn’t mean no one would recognize her if they worked under S.H.I.E.L.D. before the disbanding.”

“You think this group is a bunch of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., ex-Hydra rogue agents?” Steve interjected.

“Anything is possible,” Fury said. “For now, it’s best to assume Rogers was the target and Agent M was just an additional person of interest by proxy.”  

“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be related to this organization.” Maria advised. “If there really is another large-scale terrorist group among us, it’d be best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.”

After the briefing, Fury held you back, as most of the others left the room. Maria relaxed by his side, her shoulders not quite as taut.

“You’re reinstated as an active agent, effective immediately, Agent M.” Fury held your gaze with his good eye. 

“I never said I wanted to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I never wanted to be put in that situation again.” You glared back. The fingers on your left hand dug into your palm.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.” His large hand cupped your shoulder. “Just because you run away from something, doesn’t mean it goes away. You are good at what you do, and I refuse to let you waste your skills anymore.”

“But I—” He cut you off. 

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Blue.”

He rarely called you by your nickname. It was always ‘Agent.’ You sighed. As difficult as Fury has always been, he’d never given you bad advice. He was the one who fought for you to stay and train to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place all those years ago. 

And yeah, maybe he was a tad softer on you than on the others. You’d seen him as a father figure of sorts. If he thought you should be reinstated and otherwise get your head out of your ass, then you really couldn’t argue.

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Fury smirked, patting your shoulder twice heading towards the door. “As soon as you’re cleared for it, you’ll start training. Rest up. This little incident tells me you’ve lost your touch.”

__________

You sat on a couch in the common room a week later, skimming through the data, searching for anything you could connect to an unknown terrorist group. Without a name, it was hard to even associate what little frays you did find, and you were led to dead end after dead end. You set the laptop on the seat beside you and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You looked to your Stark-issued phone for the time. It was well past midnight. This wasn’t the first time you’d been unable to sleep this week due to your mind racing about the implications of an unknown group trying to bring devastation for whatever reason they’ve deemed justifiable. The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the more frustrated you got at the lack of information. You really wanted to punch something, but you weren’t cleared to do more than brisk walking, lest you pull a stitch and elongate your recovery period.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself some water. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe your restlessness. So instead, you paced the halls, a habit you picked up since you arrived. You passed the entryway to the lab. More specifically, Tony and Bruce’s lab. The other common occurrence you’d noticed every night were the lights in the lab always being on this late in the night. It seemed like Bruce usually went to bed early in the evening, preferring to start his day earlier than most. Which left Tony as the only possible night owl. 

You hesitated by the door before pulling it open and wandering through the cool-toned lights in the lab. Classic rock played softly through the speakers. Tony stood at table at the far end of the room, back hunched over. He was poking at something that caused small sparks to shoot from the device. His masked face was probably still too close to the object. 

You pulled out a stool from a neighboring table smoothly, just enough to make some noise, not enough to startle him. The masked tilted up, then focused once again on the task at hand.

“Not asleep, Agent M?” He said with an ever-so-slight sneer.

“You can call me Blue, you know.” Tony hadn’t warmed up to you like you’d hoped in the past week. He’d been distant, always in the lab. Natasha assured you that was normal for him though, so you took her word for it. 

“Do I know that?” He snipped. He worked in silence for a few moments, then he put down his tools and flipped up his mask. His eyes were rimmed in red, most likely from exhaustion. “You know, I just find it odd that everything was all fine and dandy until Rogers and Co took a trip to Washington State. Now there’s a new terrorist organization we have to look out for, and you show up with no official identity in any database on the planet, and one word from Fury and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? I’m not exactly a big believer of coincidences.”

“Just ask what you want to know, Stark. I don’t want to always feel like I’m tip-toeing around you.” Because it was annoying. 

“What’s your history with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“Natasha and Clint were on a mission, found me as a teen in an abandoned warehouse. Brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. I was an agent for three years.”

“What made you leave?” His gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Bad mission. I lost people I cared about.” His eyes found yours. “And with Hydra discovered inside the agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolving, I just got out while I could.”

He was quiet for a long time. Absently, you twirled a random screw between your fingers.

“Tell me about the mission.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, sighing deeply. You recalled your worst nightmare like it was yesterday. You opened your mouth to begin when he put a hand up.

“Sorry. You don’t need to tell me.” He waved you away. “I can be insensitive when I’m tired.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Long story short, it went really, really wrong, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was young-”

“You’re still young, kid,” he quipped.

“-and I already couldn’t remember my past. Losing people, people I was especially close to, was too much.” Your breath shuddered. “I didn’t want to have to go through that again, so I left. Fury kept tabs on me, same with Natasha and Clint. But I swore I wasn’t going to be an agent anymore.”

“And now, here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Tony nodded. He got up unexpectedly, shuffling over to a hidden cupboard that housed a coffee maker. He came back with two mugs, steam spirals swirled in the air. You took a sip. Minty.

“It’s a peppermint blend. Some candy cane Christmas bullshit I got in a ‘thank you’ basket over the holiday. It’s barely coffee, not even caffeinated, but it tastes nice. Supposed to help clear the mind or something.”

You shrugged. Because it was good.

“So… you don’t remember your past?”

“I don’t even remember my name.”

“That must be tough.”

“Mhm,” you agreed.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the rough start. Genuinely. I spend so much of my time trying to do the best to defend against the bad, that I sometimes jump to conclusions and can be…”

“Overly suspicious?” You supplied.

“Yeah.”

“No worries, Stark…”

“Tony.”

“Tony,” you smiled. “I would have thought the same thing. I mean hell, I almost embedded a knife in Captain America’s head when I first met him.”

“I want to do that sometimes and I’ve known him for years.” He chuckled into his mug.

“So we’re good?” You didn’t want to just assume. A heart to heart doesn’t always form a friendship, but at least maybe you’d be on good terms now.

“We’re good, kid.” He smiled, a genuine grin on his lips. “Come on, you can help me test this new version of my gauntlets.”

Huh. Maybe you were wrong. __________

Another week passed before you were cleared for active duty. The scarring was… definitely there. Harsh, red lines spider-webbed around your back. Apparently, it healed faster than Dr. Marks anticipated, especially without the cradle. She seemed convinced the shorter recovery time meant there was a high chance the scarring would fade quickly as well. You weren’t exactly a vain person, but it didn’t look pretty as of now. At least you could cover it up easily. 

You were placed into a random group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Group C apparently, and were given a schedule that listed off times for hand-to-hand combat training, weight training, endurance training, and shooting practice. You were convinced Steve loved to see you and the other recruits suffer as he pushed you all to run the laps of the course around the compound. The first day, you were dead after three miles, collapsing on the ground when the muscles in your legs gave up and lying on gravel sounded like a better idea. Steve only ordered you to get up and run again. You might have grumbled something about seeing if you’d ever save his life again.

Now you were able to keep up with the group. You found it a necessity, as you’d overheard in the locker room how they didn’t like you because you were “definitely sleeping with the Captain” or why else would you be there. You’d caught a stink eye more than once, and decided you had to push harder and tune them out. The chatter was useless. You knew the truth, so their opinions didn’t matter, but you didn’t want Steve to be accused of favoritism. He didn’t deserve any unnecessary backlash. 

By far, Natasha was thrilled to have you in training again. 

“You’re having too much fun with this Natasha,” you groaned from the mat. 

You were constantly being thrown by her, taunted that you’d lost your reflexes from being out of practice. You always ended up sore and bruised after a session. The snickers of the other agents really pissed you off, but you couldn’t exactly bite their heads off. Plus, even when you were in your best shape, you weren’t always able to out-Natasha Natasha; you’d only done it a few times. You knew first hand the rest of the agents in the room couldn’t do that. And you’d out-fought enough of them to know that.

“You’re making it easy on me,” she pulled you to your feet. “Maybe you should practice with someone with a little less agility for now?” She tilted her head to Sam, who’d over heard as he sauntered in and pulled a bitch face at her.

“Oh that’s low, girl. Real low.” But he joined you on the mat anyway.

Sam’s strikes were powerful and quick, like a boxer. He shuffled his feet, throwing punches at varying intervals. You dodged and blocked what you could. He got in a few hits before you picked up his pattern. That was the problem with most people in hand-to-hand. The body naturally wants to move in a rhythm, just like in running, but it’s too predictable in fighting, which is one of the reasons it was so hard to fight Natasha. She was slippery as a snake and it was hard to anticipate her next moves at the speed she moved.

You swung your arm out, your fist clipping him in his unprotected ribs, jumping out of range after. He stumbled back. You took the opportunity to rush him, diving low last minute to the space beneath his legs. You half-turned in your crouch and kicked your leg out, knocking him off balance and crashing into the mat. Finally.

“Adequate,” Natasha complimented. “But I’ve seen you do better. That was sloppy.”

You nodded, panting. She was right, but you’d take then win. It would take you a while to get back to what your skills had been, but even you had to admit. The ache of your abused muscles was actually rather nostalgic. __________

It was well after dinner when a knock at your door had you sitting up, causing the ice packs to tumble off your body. You sighed.

“Come in!”

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the ice packs. 

“Have we been too rough on you?” She teased. You didn’t take the bait.

“Nah. Just not used to it yet.”

Natasha nodded. “Just wanted to let you know Clint and the others are almost here. The quinjet should be landing in five, if you want to join us.”

“Of course.” You stumbled off the bed, and slipped your shoes on as you followed her to the hangar.

The hangar was cleaner than you would have thought. Relatively spotless and spacious. You and Natasha joined Steve, Sam, and Vision by the marker number 1 just as the rumble of an engine made the quinjet known. The noise echoed loudly in the space as the jet landed smoothly in its spot. The engines cut off, and with the high-pitched whir of the propellers winding down. The door opened down into a ramp. At first, no one came down, then there was a stumbling, mummy racing down the ramp toward you. Clint scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around, rambling a mile a minute.

“I thought Tasha was messing with me when she said you were here!” He was shouting in your ear, but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “When did you get here? How long are you staying? Wait! Are you back for real?”

“Barton, I’m pretty sure she can’t breathe.” Natasha’s voice cut through his excitement.

“Oh, right.” He plopped you down. You staggered before you caught yourself.

“It’s good to see you too, Robin Hood.” 

His eyes flitted over you, not overlooking the bruises from training this week.

“Geeze, you look awful. What happened?” 

“What is with the two of you?” You looked between him and Natasha. “You can’t just tell people they look awful when they’ve been beaten up. Besides, you’re one to talk,” you sassed. Clint was covered in butterfly bandages and deep purple bruises. “Can’t you go on one mission without coming back like you belong under a pyramid?”

“‘S not my fault.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him pointedly. “Well, not all my fault.”

“Some things never change.” You grinned.

“Blue, this is Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha held her hand out to a girl around your age, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked at you hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Blue.” You did a little wave, then immediately regretted it for how dumb you probably looked. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She enveloped you in strong arms. She had an accent you couldn’t place, but it wasn’t so thick you couldn’t understand her. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Natasha and Clint. It’s nice to match the face with the name.”

You smiled, because she seemed very sweet. You could already see yourself being friends with her. You noticed Vision hovering just behind her, and when she pulled away, her hand reached back to find his. That was cute. You also now had questions, but that was for another time. You certainly weren’t close enough to just ask anyway.

Behind you, Steve was embracing a man with shoulder-length brown hair. He looked just as built and strong as Steve, maybe an inch shorter in height. Steve’s eyes were closed, his lips were moving, speaking too low for you to hear. The intimacy of their moment had you assuming they were more than friends. Definitely together. You wondered if the public had that knowledge, but it was more than likely not. The media would probably have a field day with that info.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting yours with a smile before he stepped back and called out to you.

“Hey Blue! Come over here and meet Bucky!”

His companion turned around and the breath caught in your throat. You did a double take. After all these years, you never thought you’d see him again. Maybe you’d dreamed you’d find your long lost friend, hoping that you both hadn’t changed too much to pass each other on the street someday without realizing. But you would recognize those eyes anywhere. 

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke. 

“Ingeras?” _________

A/N: Just now realized I haven’t given any translations for words so far, but I will from now on!

zvezdochka (Russian) - little star sestrenka (Russian) - sister, sis ingeras (Romanian) - angel

_________

In Viata Asta Taglist:  @rvgrsbrns​ @artsyspacebee​ @thelovelydreamer17​

#Stucky x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes #marvel fanfiction #In Viata Asta

[emmerrr]

omg em ❤️ if you can you could write about pynch snowed in + lynch brothers

anonymous asked: prompt: adam and ronan snowed in at Christmas and using the time to bake and watch bad Christmas movies and be soft and make out, please?

anonymous asked: pynch baking cookies, but Ronan is allergic to cinnamon and Adam doesn’t know that and Ronan doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin the moment

(i’ve merged all these prompts together into something that’s kind of what you all wanted, i hope it’s okay! also this is also on ao3 here)

-

When Adam was finally home for the holidays, he and Ronan still had three full days alone before Declan and Matthew were due to arrive on Christmas Eve.

Adam planned on making full use of them.

Day one involved doing very little. They had a lazy morning, trying — albeit not very hard — and failing to get out of bed several times, alternating between coaxing the other back into the warmth whenever one of them got even close to getting up. Tired, unhurried kisses were shared under the covers, hands wandering slowly, fingers grazing bare skin, muffled laughter into necks. Quiet, nonsensical conversations that tapered out until one and then the other drifted back to sleep, before rousing again some time later, limbs entangled in the little cocoon they had created.

Eventually, hunger motivated them to move downstairs, where they cooked up a mountain of breakfast food in the kitchen before heading to the living room to make a blanket fort and watch Christmas movies for the rest of the day.

They’d made it through Elf, Gremlins, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and — because Ronan inexplicably loved it — The Holiday, before they stopped to make another mountain of food, for dinner this time. Once they’d eaten their fill, dishes were thrown into the sink to soak (probably overnight as it was highly unlikely they’d get to them before heading to bed), and then, arms slung around each other, they retreated back to their living room blanket fort for more movies.

Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a day like this. A nothing day. Even the blissful summer with Ronan had been interspersed with work, and they’d spent most of their free time outside anyway. Today, Adam had barely even looked out of the window, too busy soaking up time missed, time with Ronan, time he wasn’t going to take for granted.

They were so full they could hardly move, but they still lay sprawled over each other in their blanket fort, made even softer by all the cushions Ronan had scattered. They watched both Home Alone movies back to back, Adam drowsily and unnecessarily pointing out all the ways in which Harry and Marv should be dead, if not incapacitated at the very least. When Marv got hit in the head by the fourth brick in Home Alone 2, he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“This is ridiculous. Just one of those from that height would kill him, and I’m supposed to believe he can take four and just walk it off?”

Ronan laughed fondly; Adam felt it rumble through where his head was rested on Ronan’s chest. “See, Parrish, this is what’s called a ‘movie’, and in movies, we’re supposed to suspend our disbelief.”

Adam rolled his eyes, lifted his head, and shoved a cushion in Ronan’s face, all in one smooth movement. “I know what a movie is you patronising ass. I’m just saying. They’re asking me to suspend an awful lot of disbelief, that’s all.”

“Okay, college boy,” Ronan said with a sage nod, before Adam shut him up with a kiss.

Between make-outs and more movie complaints, they ended up falling asleep down there before Adam rolled over and onto the hard floor and woke himself up. He dragged a disgruntled Ronan up to bed with him where they fell asleep again almost instantly, clutched close together, sharing warmth.

The next day was a shopping day, as tempting as a repeat of the day before was. Ronan had already got the essentials before Adam had got there, but they needed a few extra flourishes, snacks and drinks.

When they got back to the Barns and unloaded the car, Ronan stopped before reaching the porch steps. He tilted his head back and took a deep breath, eyes closed.

“It’s going to snow,” he said.

Adam looked up at the sky. It was undoubtedly cold and grey, but there had been no snow forecast. He remained dubious.

“You think?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

Ronan grinned. “Because I really, really want it to snow.”

It didn’t snow, not for the rest of the day, nor was there any sign of snow when they awoke the next morning. Ronan’s good mood was unaffected, however, and as he set about farmyard chores, Adam took over the kitchen to make gingerbread cookies.

He’d found a recipe that seemed simple enough online, and there were Christmas themed cookie cutters in one of the drawers, so he was all set. The dough didn’t take long to bring together and while it was chilling in the fridge, he went outside to help Ronan.

Ronan was almost done so Adam just waited for him to finish tidying up one of the barns and then they leisurely walked back towards the house. Halfway back, Ronan complained that he was tired and couldn’t possibly go on, so Adam gave him a piggyback, which involved a lot of swaying and almost overbalancing as Ronan was pretty heavy.

When they reached the porch, Adam dropped Ronan unceremoniously and went to lean against the railing, looking out at the grounds. There was a crispness in the air, and Ronan’s cheeks and nose were pink from being out in the cold for a while. Adam could see his breath mist in the air as he took in the view. It struck him that he’d never seen the Barns in snow, but that he’d very much like to.

Strong, sturdy arms enveloped him from behind, and he felt Ronan perch his chin on Adam’s shoulder. He twisted a little, enough so that he could reach to kiss Ronan’s cold cheek.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ronan asked.

Adam smiled. “I’m just wishing for snow.”

“It’s coming, Parrish. Trust me.”

Adam pressed back, snug in Ronan’s arms. “I do.”

Back inside, Ronan went to shower to warm up, and when he didn’t reappear, Adam found him napping, half-dressed on top of the bed. Adam threw a soft blanket over him, pressed a kiss to his temple, and left him to it.

Reasoning that his cookie dough had chilled long enough now, Adam set about rolling, cutting, and baking. There was enough dough to fill two baking trays full of cookies of various shapes; Christmas trees, snowmen, reindeer, and stars.

When they were out of the oven and cooling, Adam made some icing to decorate. There were only two food colourings to be found in the pantry, but luckily they were red and green, which seemed appropriately festive.

Using those two colours, plus a plain white, he set about decorating. They weren’t the neatest, but they were bright and cheerful, and clearly very homemade, which was exactly what he had been going for. He was just finishing icing his last one, a nice red star, when Ronan walked into the kitchen, pulling on a hoodie.

He yawned and smiled at Adam, adorably sleep-rumpled. Then he clocked the iced cookies on a plate.

“Oh, jackpot.” He grabbed a Christmas tree one and took a giant bite before Adam could stop him.

“Hey, I’ve only just finished them, the icing won’t even be fully set yet,” he said.

Ronan grinned, unapologetic, then took another bite. “S’good, Parrish,” he said with his mouth full.

“Good. Save the rest for tomorrow when your brothers get here.”

“Yes, boss,” Ronan said. He’d slowed down chewing his second bite, and he gave the cookie a closer look. Then he put it down, unfinished, and got himself a glass of water.

Adam frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Ronan said airily, then cleared his throat a couple of times. “Just…they don’t have cinnamon in them, by any chance, do they?”

“Of course they do, it’s gingerbread. Why?”

“No reason. I’m just like, mildly allergic to cinnamon. It’s no big deal.”

“Did you just say you’re allergic?”

“I said ‘mildly’.”

“Fuck, Ronan! Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Ronan was rooting through the cupboards until he finally found a little packet of tablets. “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just take an antihistamine.”

He swallowed a tablet with water, and Adam watched him warily. “Your throat’s not gonna close up then?”

Ronan shook his head with a smile. “No. I told you, it’s a mild allergy. It just makes my throat itch and maybe irritates my eyes a little or makes me sneeze. But I only took two bites of one cookie so it’s fine, it’s not like I ate a whole fucking spoonful.”

Adam crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you ask if there was any cinnamon in them before you took an enormous bite? And for that matter, why, when I said I was making gingerbread cookies, did you not say not to put any in because you’re allergic?”

Ronan cocked his head to the side, crooked smile on his face that would have a different effect on Adam if he weren’t already annoyed. “Do I look like I know what goes in gingerbread cookies?”

Adam sighed. “Ronan it’s a pretty standard festive spice, it’s in almost everything this time of the year. And anyway, why didn’t you tell me you had an allergy? Is there anything else?”

Ronan shrugged. “No? Don’t think so. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t even think about it. It’s not a Gansey allergy, it’s not gonna kill me.”

“It better not, because if it does, I’ll kill you.”

“Fair.”

Adam finished the cookie Ronan had half eaten, pleased that it did actually taste nice. He’d have to make some normal sugar cookies now as well, that Ronan could eat.

“You wanna help me make some more cookies?” he asked. “I promise I won’t poison you this time.”

Ronan mulled this over, finishing his water as he did. “Do I get to decorate?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Baking, Adam discovered, was more fun when Ronan was there. It was messier, and it took longer thanks to impromptu powdered sugar fights followed by make-out truces, but infinitely more fun.

He went to bed that night feeling full and festive and excited for the next few days.

The next day was Christmas Eve, and Declan and Matthew arrived at around midday. An hour later, it started to snow.

Ronan ran outside, whooping delightedly. “What did I tell you, Parrish? What did I fucking say?”

Declan looked up at the sky with a frown. “I hope it doesn’t stick. I need to be back in DC on the 27th.”

Adam looked across to where Ronan and Matthew were chasing each other around, slipping where the snow was starting to stick. The flakes were thick and fluffy and falling fast with no end in sight. He shrugged. “That’s three days away, I’m sure however much sticks will be gone by then. And you’ve got nowhere better to be now, right?”

Declan was watching his brothers too, and he half smiled. “No, I guess not.” He turned to Adam. “By the way, were those gingerbread cookies in the kitchen? Because Ronan can’t have one, he’s allergic to cinnamon.”

“God, yeah, I know that now, he took two giant bites of one before he realised what was in it. It wasn’t actually my intention to poison him for Christmas.”

Ronan and Matthew had circled back around, and were in earshot again so Ronan caught what they were talking about. He hopped up to the railing of the porch where Adam stood and kissed him on the cheek.

“For the last fucking time, I’m mildly allergic.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam said fondly, catching his hand in Ronan’s collar to pull him close and kiss him properly.

Back inside, Declan made hot drinks and Ronan made a fire, and they all settled down in the living room to watch more Christmas movies

“Can we watch Home Alone next?” asked Matthew after they’d finished The Muppets Christmas Carol.

“No, because otherwise Parrish will literally never shut up about medical inaccuracies.”

But they did watch it again, because it was Matthew’s favourite, and Adam napped through it anyway, cozy under a blanket with Ronan’s arm around him.

Declan disappeared for a while to make them all dinner, and after they’d eaten they played a few old board games that Ronan had found buried in a cupboard somewhere.

It grew late, and everyone started yawning, and eventually they all trickled off the bed.

And all the while, the snow continued to fall.

On Christmas Day, they woke up to picture-perfect views outside, pristine snow that had been undisturbed. They spent the morning eating Adam’s homemade cookies, drinking coffee, and opening presents under the tree.

Ronan had got Santa hats for everyone that he insisted they all wear; Adam’s was green, Matthew’s was red, Ronan’s was black, and Declan’s was blue. There was music and laughter, and wrapping paper crushed into balls and thrown around for Chainsaw to chase. There was thank you’s and hugs and headlocks. Given that there were only four of them, cooking dinner wasn’t particularly an ordeal, and they all helped, and they all cleared up afterwards before finally piling outside to make their mark on the snow.

It had been stopping and starting again all day, and was already very deep. They didn’t venture far, sticking close to the house as they built snowmen and had snowball fights. Adam ducked as Ronan threw one at him, and it instead hit the shed behind him. A whole chunk of snow from the roof of the shed dislodged with the impact, fell forward and cascaded down over Adam, getting freezing snow down his coat and soaking his hat.

He dusted himself off and glared at Ronan, shivering. “You’ll pay for that.”

Ronan laughed, but it faltered a little when Adam started rolling up a giant snowball. “It was an accident, babe, I’m sorry — Parrish, truce!”

When all four of them were soaked through with chattering teeth and it was starting to get dark out, they traipsed back inside for warming baths or showers, and by the time they were all, the snow was falling heavily again. Declan made them all leftover turkey sandwiches, and then it was another night in the warm living room with movies and games and stories, and laughing so hard it made their stomachs hurt.

It was a family Christmas, the way Adam had always imagined family Christmases to be.

It snowed all through the night, and Boxing Day greeted them with snow that was well over Matthew’s knees when he went out to investigate. The cars in the driveway were well and truly covered, and Declan spent a large part of the morning trying to dig them out, and also clear some of the driveway, before they heard on the radio that the road beyond the Barns was currently impassable, so there didn’t seem much point.

Matthew and Ronan were very keen to go sledging down one of the hills that backed onto the property, but it was incredibly difficult to try and wade through the deep snow, and when one of Matthew’s wellington boots got caught on something resulting in him accidentally stepping out of it, they decided to give up and try again when some of the snow had thawed.

They went back to the house, cold and wet with freezing, soaked jeans stuck to their legs.

“Whose bright idea was that?” Ronan said as they all stood in front of the fire, getting some warmth back into their bones.

“Pretty sure it was yours,” Adam supplied helpfully.

“What? Nah, all my ideas are fucking great. This has Matthew written all over it.”

“That’s fair,” said Matthew sagely. He looked up at Declan. “Do we still have to go tomorrow? I don’t want to leave before we get a chance to go sledging.”

Declan ruffled his brother’s curls amiably. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure you’ll get your chance. Looks like we’re stuck for at least another couple of days.”

Ronan looked up sharply before schooling his expression. Adam thought he was trying not to look too invested in this development. “What about work?” he asked carefully.

Declan shrugged. “I already emailed them. Not much I can do about the weather, is there?”

Ronan nodded, then looked back to the fire, a tiny smile on his face. “Guess not.”

“There’s not something you can do about the weather, is there? Magic up a heating fan for me?”

Ronan snorted. “A heating fan big enough to melt enough of the snow to get you to the interstate? I mean, I could try, but I’m not gonna.” He elbowed Declan playfully. “Think you should stick around here and have fun instead. It’ll do you some good.”

“Yeah, Declan,” Matthew said.

“Yeah, Declan,” Adam added.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, point made. Now,” he clapped his hands together, “who’s up for a game of Monopoly?”

“Oh finally, Fun Declan has entered the building,” Ronan said, and Matthew burst out laughing.

“What? It’s the Pokémon edition, it is fun.”

“Really?” Ronan said, suddenly serious. “Fuck yeah, let’s play Pokémon Monopoly.”

After two games, of which Adam won both, he and Ronan wrapped up warm and went outside again.

It took them the better part of the afternoon, but they managed to build a pretty stable little igloo, just big enough for two. They crawled inside, careful not to accidentally take out part of the ceiling, and Ronan pulled a bunch of dream lights out of his pocket and threw them into the air.

They hung there, giving the space a warm glow entirely at odds with how goddamn cold it was. Ronan wasn’t wearing gloves, so Adam covered his hands in his own and rubbed them gently.

“Is this romantic as fuck or what, Parrish.”

“It’s romantic as fuck,” Adam agreed. “You should probably kiss me now, before we get frostbite.”

Not needing any more encouragement, Ronan leaned forward, cold noses on cold cheeks, smiling into kisses, huddled close for warmth.

Adam pulled away with a lazy smile. “Ready to go in?”

Ronan sighed. “I guess.”

“I can kiss you better in the warmth.”

“You’ll have to prove it to me.”

Crunching footsteps outside sounded, approaching fast, before Matthew called out, “Oh, an igloo, cool!”

“Matthew, wait!” Ronan yelled quickly, but Matthew was already trying to crawl through. He wasn’t as careful as Adam and Ronan had been, and, bear of a boy he was, his shoulder barged through one side of the entryway, and then the whole damn thing caved in, collapsing snow soaking them to the skin yet again.

“Oops,” Matthew said. “Sorry! I’ll build a new one.” He stood up and reached a hand out to both Adam and Ronan, helping them up from where they were now half-buried in the snow.

“You fuckin’ better,” Ronan said, then lunged for his younger brother, who leapt away with a delighted laugh. Ronan chased him back towards the house, Adam following at a slower pace as he dusted himself free of as much snow as he could. Cold and soaking wet was a feeling he was becoming entirely too familiar with, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind. Not when fun was the cause, and when warming up again was so nice.

The next day, the sun came out, and the thaw began.

They finally had the chance to go sledging, although making it over to the hill Ronan had in mind was still a bit of an ordeal as the snow was still fairly deep. There were only two sledges, a traditional looking wooden one, and a red plastic one. Ronan had also brought some plastic bags with him, stuffed into his coat pocket, which apparently worked just as well. Adam wouldn’t know; he couldn’t remember if he’d ever been sledging before.

Declan went first on the wooden sledge. He picked up speed so fast that when the ground leveled off he went flying over a small bump in the ground and into a copse of trees, disappearing. A moment later, he emerged looking sheepish, holding the now very broken sledge in his hands.

It took him a couple of minutes to get back up the hill to the rest of them, and Ronan just raised an eyebrow in question.

“I crashed into a tree,” Declan said matter-of-factly.

Ronan laughed. “See, this is why I should always drive.” He clapped Declan on the shoulder. “It’s all good, that sledge was fucking ancient anyway. Who’s next. Matthew? Parrish?”

Matthew held out a hand. “Bag me.”

“You don’t want the red one?”

“Nah. The bags are faster.”

Ronan handed him one, and Matthew arranged it just so, sitting on it so that the handles could act as a steering wheel. Adam was curious to see how well it would work, and to be fair it really was incredibly fast. The only problem seemed to be stopping, but Matthew handled this by rocking over onto his side until he eventually skidded to a halt.

Adam gave Ronan a knowing look. “This is going to end in scabs and bruises, isn’t it?”

Ronan grinned. “All in the name of fun.” He put the red sledge at the top of the hill. “Wanna ride with me?”

“I am not getting on that thing with you.”

“Parrish.” Ronan patted the seat. “Get in there.”

Adam sighed. He got in, as he always did. Ronan immediately hopped on the back and his momentum rocketed them forward and down the hill. Ronan’s arms were around him and holding onto the little rope that passed for steering, and he let out a happy swear as they sped down the hill. Adam laughed, exhilarated by the speed and caught up in Ronan’s infectious enthusiasm.

When they approached the bottom and didn’t seem to be slowing down, Adam yelled, “How do we stop?”

“Good question!” Ronan yelled back, but he managed to turn it enough to slow down the momentum, and soon enough they’d dropped enough speed to bail out without causing any injuries.

Ronan lay sprawled on his back in the snow, still laughing. Adam crawled over from where he’d ended up and hovered over Ronan.

“Happy?” he asked.

Ronan grabbed Adam around the waist, and hugged him close. “Yes, Adam. I’m fucking happy.”

They kissed messily, joyfully, both cold and warm at the same time. Ronan leaned back and smiled. “Have you had a good Christmas?”

“The best,” Adam replied, kissing Ronan again, because he could and he wanted to. Then he abruptly got to his feet and started running. “Last one up the hill does all the washing up!”

“Parrish, wait up, no fair!”

#the raven cycle #pynch #tumblr prompts #trc fic #trc

[ecoamerica]

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[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 120

Your year of 2015 started on a Thursday. Though Stark Industries had allowed its employees to take a long weekend off- understanding in that they’d probably been up drinking and partying up late on the Wednesday night before (as had you), it didn’t mean you had the day off. ...although, much like the rest of the world, it started a little late. A nice sleep in, and then a much nicer intimate good-morning with Tony. Perhaps things weren’t so bad. 

After a long luxurious hour spent in each other’s close attentions, you ended up atop him, straddling his hips, his hands kneading at your own while you slid down on your forearms at the sides of his head. A slow kiss half broken by uneven panting eventually led to smiles and brushes of noses. And then, when you could find a thought, “I think I’m going to go for a run.” Yet even as you managed to work the thought out you were still semi-caught up on him. 

“Not enough exercise for you? I could remedy that.” Grinning against your lips, rocking up in such a way that earned a hitched, warm gasp from you. 

But, determined to not fall victim to his charm, you tilted down, nuzzling one of the bright red patches of skin on his neck. Your wonderful handiwork. “You’re insatiable.” Just a fact. 

He huffed out half a laugh. Turning his head to find the shell of his ear, he worked his lips over in a light touch before murmuring in such a tone you couldn’t help but shiver, “Only for you.” 

“Lucky me.” Middling now, trying to decide if you were going to let him win. 

“We’re in agreement, then.” Hearing the victory in his voice right before he grabbed your hips a little tighter and threw his weight just enough to roll you. Onto your side first, as giggles left without your permission, and then repositioning so he could kneel atop you, knees at your sides, hands just above your shoulders. 

Looking up at him, you just couldn’t help but get lost. He was so beautiful in the morning light. Eyes sweet and dark, tug of that handsome grin on his lips, the light sheen of perspiration. Your hands reached up, palming over his chest, the lean muscles there, and then smoothed out over to his arms, gripping lightly at his biceps, flexing as he held himself over you. “I love you.” Completely unable to help yourself in saying so. 

He eased in a little more, nose touching yours, lips just there. “I love you.” Then another amused noise. “You look like you’re admiring a piece of art.” 

Your own grin was very wide. “What a self-serving compliment.” 

“I’m not hearing a disagreement.” Delicate arch of his brow. 

Letting go of a little hum, you moved your hands inward to paw lightly at his chest. “Well. In that case… if I’m caught… it’s true. You are gorgeous.” 

It was a rare shade on Tony, blushing- that ripple of shyness. Not having expected you to agree, perhaps waiting on a rebuff. But instead… “Is that so?” Still trying to play at that overconfident ego.

“Mnhmn.” A little lull as your fingers touched up along the sides of his neck, bringing him that bare space down closer to kiss him. Lightly, only for a few seconds. “You’re terribly handsome. Sometimes I just can’t help myself from staring.” Eyes blinking open to watch him mull all this over. Conflicted. Your smile was steady. “Have I ever told you-” Hands moving further still to touch just over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “Your freckles drive me absolutely crazy?” A light dusting, but they were there- if one was close enough to see them. 

Which, thankfully, you were. His head ducked a little, pressing against yours, grinning perhaps a little helplessly. “Alright, now you’re just looking for points.” 

“I’m just being honest. And- oh- speaking of honest-” Deciding to help him out, as he was growing ever more flustered. Maybe, perhaps, unused to being on the receiving end of something like this. Moving your hands all the way down and around, you shifted just a little up, so that you could grab two wonderful handfuls of his ass, squeezing hard enough to get a just slightly delighted yet surprised sounding noise from him. “Your ass is amazing. I need you to start teaching me your squat technique.” 

Laughter dropped out of him, half embarrassed- “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Well- since we’re not going for a run- hopefully you. Since you offered.” Sharing in the sweet sound of morning giggles with him as he dipped in to press those laughs against your lips in an incomplete kiss. 

“You’re only teaching me I can talk you out of exercise with sex, you know.” 

“As long as it’s a good sex-workout.” Hands on the move again, only so you could wind your arms around his neck, smile pressed against his. 

“I can manage that. Good- why not great?” 

“I like the sound of that.” A hum as you drew him in for a deeper kiss. And then, when you could speak again, “I know you won’t disappoint me.” 

“Never.” Already getting lost in each other again. 

Just the way you liked your mornings.

                                                     ---

It was a morning just like that one, a few weeks later- at least this time you’d actually made it for a run. One that, nice enough, Tony had joined you on. And, as you came home, he also very nicely joined you in a cool-down shower. That needed its own cool-down shower after it. Insatiable indeed. 

But it was just as you were sitting down for lunch in the kitchen that Pepper dinged you. Pulling a tablet closer, you opened a video window for her with a smile. “Working on the weekend?” 

“Hardly.” She grinned back at you. “You know I like my downtime. I just thought I’d send this your way.” An email pinged just in time and you scrolled over to open it, receiving a screenshot she’d attached. 

Darren Cross on Google+ of all things was spouting some nonsense. You read it aloud, spying Tony half turning from the oven to try and listen in. “Technology will never be the same. Pym Tech is working on a historic project that will change the technological landscape. Shame StarkIndustries has no interest in sharing this future.” You couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Do we even have an up Google+ account?” He’d tried to @-attach the company, but there was no link. 

“Uh- excuse me-” Tony flipped a burner off, settling the back of his hand on his hip as he turned fully. “Did my former PR person just ask what social media accounts we own?  Because I have a major problem with that.” Teasing you, obvious with the grin he served it with. 

Still, since he was questioning your prowess- and possibly insinuating you’d grown lazy, you shot a dry look his way. “I imagine we have a locked dormant account so nobody can pick up the username, but what I’m asking is if we have someone on it. Because… seriously… Google+?” And Darren had self proclaimed to be a rival of Stark Industries. What a joke. 

Tony turned back to his pan. “Next time tell me to shut up before I make myself look bad.” 

“But how will you ever learn then?” Smiling sweetly at him and then looking back at Pepper’s chat window, where she was trying to hide her laughter. “Just ignore him. He got caught red-handed trying to peep into our labs on New Year’s. He’s just trying to annoy me.” 

She put her chin in her palm. “Is it working?” 

“Well you called me on a Saturday, so…” 

A look of mock-offense bloomed over her face as she put a hand to her chest. “Oh. Well my apologies then, your majesty. I thought it was worth looking at. You know the media is going to be all over it.” 

You couldn’t help a little giggle. “Apology accepted. And- yeah. That’s what he wants. But we’ll just ice him and I’m sure eventually he’ll go back to leaving well enough alone.” 

“Has ignoring anyone ever worked out for us?” Tony wondered loudly from his spot at the stove. Very apropos, no doubt. 

The next sigh left whether or not you wanted to. “Yeah. ...alright. Keep an eye on him, Pep. Quietly. Don’t engage. But just-” 

“Make sure he’s not up to something insidious? I’ll put him on my list. My long, long, long list.” 

You put your hands together. “Thank you, Pepper. You’re doing all the hard work.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Giving you a wave before she disconnected the call. 

Tony came around just as you pushed the tablet away, setting down a plate in front of you. A perfectly sliced and put together BLT. “He knows we can release the footage of him trying to break into our labs, right?” 

“He was probably counting on us retaliating. It’ll start a dialogue, even if it’s negative. Better not to give in to him. We’ll let him stamp his feet and make a fool of himself and then, if we want, we can pretend to take pity on him. If it’s convenient for us.” Tilting your head up, you switched gears. “Thanks for lunch.” 

Settling a hand on the back of your chair he leaned in to press a light kiss to your lips. “You’re welcome.” Another kiss, and then, “You remind me more every day why it’s not a good idea to mess with you. It’s scary. In a hot way.” 

Your nose crinkled, a giggle escaping. “It’s a shame nobody else wants to learn that lesson.” 

A happy little miaow jingled from just underneath the table and Tony turned his attention away, bending down to pick up the vibrating ball of fuzz that was a misbehaving Dvahli. “Is it lunch time, Li? You want some bacon?” In a lilt of a singsong tone.

“You’re teaching her to beg for scraps.” Tone making it clear you were very dissatisfied. 

He walked back to the counter with her tucked in his arm. “Oh. We’re way past teaching.” Setting her down, he waggled a crispy piece just in front of her. “Bacon?” She did a good enough job of standing on her back paws to try and claw at it.

If they weren’t so cute you might have made a bigger fuss about it. 

                                                    ---

A few days later, just as you were returning from a late lunch meeting- sandwiched in between a personal calendar meeting (getting a little anxious seeing how packed your year was already becoming), just as you sat down at your desk, Pepper poked her head in the door. “Do you have a minute?” 

“I have about fifteen seconds. What’s up?” Waking your computer up while waving her in at the same time. You had a phone call soon- she knew that. So this was probably important. 

Coming in, and closing the door behind her, she held a sticky-note on her finger. “WHiH called- they want a quote.” 

“And you told them no.” Not looking at her as you quickly sorted through a few emails, trying to find something for the next meeting. A new one came in- something from Maria for Damage Control about new hires. It had to be added to the list.

“It wasn’t from Christine.” 

“That whole network’s goal is to try and take down Stark Industries, it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t Christine.” Not getting vexed yet- Pepper knew better than this. But then… 

“The guy said they’re finishing up a report about the crime rates dropping in New York City- comparing them with other places… and saying they’re going to credit the Avengers. They wanted a soundbyte.” 

Your hands paused in their furious typing. Only to look up at her for a moment. “That’s a trap.” 

She frowned. “Maybe they wanna turn over a new leaf? I haven’t heard anything about Christine in a while…” 

“That’s a trap.” Doubling down. 

“Alright. Fine. Let’s assume it is. How? How could that turn into something bad? Seems like good free press. And a good chance to start patching relations after that outburst.” Crossing her arms loosely. 

You couldn’t help the face you made at her. “I don’t care about them. Or what our public relations looks like in regards to them. This is a trap- they want me to pat myself on the back? Just so something bad can happen and they’ll turn around and talk about how I’m an asshole and so high up on my horse I’m not seeing the bigger picture-” 

“Okay- alright. No quote.” Stopping your tirade. She turned to go but before she did, “It was about the Avengers, you know. Not you.” 

This struck you in a weird way. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know it’s not. But. ...not everything- not everyone is always coming after you alone.” 

“Even more reason not to talk to them, if they’re trying to bring down the whole team.” You weren’t really sure you liked what she was implying. ...it was your job to be overly defensive. Not just for yourself… “Are we okay here, Pepper?” Asking her honestly. 

She nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.” 

                                                    ---

The other shoe dropped a little more than a week later. You’d come home from too many meetings to find Tony had coaxed the team together for dinner. Although he assured you it had been your idea, you couldn’t really remember. You certainly hadn’t scheduled a team dinner- but, maybe he meant in a broader sense… 

It really didn’t matter. It was the thought that counted. And having everyone together in the same room was nice, especially after Steve had been gone for so long- and then you’d immediately gotten very busy. Maria tried to take up a few minutes of your time to sidebar and talk about work. An idea that you entertained until Tony broke the both of you up with firm admonishment. 

“And you say I work too much.” 

Was it really too much to ask, that a night like this could just be normal? That this could be your normal? The universe seemed to think so. Just as everyone’s drinks had been refreshed and Clint was in the middle of a story about how someone on fifth Ave nearly knocked his bike over in the road, JARVIS killed everyone’s good time. 

At least he apologized first. “Sorry for the interruption. Four simultaneous bombings have just been reported in Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Everyone immediately went into high alert. You jumped to your feet, going over to turn a tablet on the wall. “What buildings went down?” Who was up to what now? 

Four coordinates lit up on a map. “Warehouse buildings. All owned under shell corporations.” 

Tony stepped aside you, keying in a few things, pulling files. Following trails until- “Russian mafia holdings.” 

Natasha’s voice piped up from behind you, “This seems like more of a local law enforcement thing. I think we should take a breath here.” 

Thor knocked back the rest of his drink. “Yes, I say let your people handle it. It’s not always a great honor to get involved in petty squabbles.”

Clint seemed to agree. “A little below the Avengers’ pay grade, if you ask me… getting mixed up with mafia trouble is probably not something we wanna do.” 

You half turned, looking at the group- still sitting around the coffee table. All looking at you. Steve frowned. “People could be hurt over there.”  JARVIS answered, "Emergency services are already on all four premises."

“...not that I wanna get involved…” Bruce’s hesitance drew everyone’s eyes his way. “-could be someone trying clean up the streets.” 

There were too many angles here. The buildings themselves weren’t really on the public map. They just looked like factories- mills- places the average person went to work. But what if someone knew what Tony had pulled up? Mafia stuff? Maybe Bruce was right. But, in either case- 

Natasha was also right. This seemed like… not an Avengers level threat. ...not yet anyway. It was definitely a coordinated effort. Someone was up to something. “Honey?” Tony was looking at you-

Everyone was looking at you. Waiting for you to say something. You let go of a long breath. “And WHiH just posted such a lovely article about how crime rate had gone down thanks to us.” If you could only prove those assholes had something to do with this… what a field day you’d have with that. It seemed entirely too convenient. That they’d come sniffing around with that drivel only for this to happen. Collapsing the panel on the wall you shrugged. “Alright. The cops can have it.” 

Tony put his arm around your waist. “I’m sure the mayor won’t call the red phone in your office over it.” 

A bombing was a serious thing- four bombings was even worse. Coordinated. An obvious effort to get rid of something. Or someone. Or- really- an entire organization? Someone with a lot of influence had to be behind this. Or a lot of willpower. 

You’d just have to hope they were possibly on the side of good.

But. As a wise man once said… 

It wasn’t your job to clean up everything. 

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Twenty

[tentoriwrites]

Voltage Otome Trope Bingo #1

Eons ago @hifftn​ came up with this idea to do Trope Bingo for the various Voltage fandoms. I finally finished my first piece! Circled in blue below you will see the tropes featured in this fanfic!  2,600+ words of pure indulgence with only a vague touch of plot to keep it from being too cluttered! XD Also, sorry about Atlas being a bit OOC, I haven’t really read his route in like a year now... ^_^;

“You’re the only person I know that sprains their ankle running in a straight line on level ground!” Atlas shouted as he looked over the park planter to eye our assailants. A hail of bullets ricocheted off the planter throwing up sparks and chips of concrete. He immediately ducked back down.

“To my credit, I was being shot at!” I quipped back fearfully as I clutched my throbbing ankle.

“Which makes the running in a straight line bit EVEN better.” He grumbled as he checked his ammunition.

“Well... some of us aren’t used to being shot at every day!”

“Only every other day…”

“HEY!” It’s not like I wanted to be a criminal… I pouted for a brief moment until I felt the ground rumbling. I looked around in horror as I saw everyone rushing to clear the streets. Even our assailants were booking it out of Dodge.

“What’s going on?” Atlas looked around in disbelief.

“Oh stars…” It occurred to me then what planet we were on. “Atlas… We need to get inside!”

“Yeah, like I’m just going to sit on my hands and wait for them to come back!” He was already on his feet offering me a hand.

“You don’t understand you should just leave me here!” I took his hand and gave him a quick shove towards a nearby laundry once I was upright.

Atlas let out a long suffering sigh before hefting me into his arms bridal style. “Would you make yourself useful and shut up!” He took off at a pace much faster than I imagined he could while carrying so much physical and emotional baggage around. The closer we got to the door, the more the rumbling intensified. A good Samaritan threw the door open and yanked us in. Without explanation, they slammed it shut and hit a switch on the wall. Heavy sounding metal plates slid down and locked firmly into place.

“You just made it!” An old woman standing near a basin of sudsy water chimed over the intensifying rumble. She pulled the plug to drain the water. “Another moment or two longer and you would have been cooked!” The nonchalant way she said that last line was deeply unsettling…

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on here or do you just expect me to hack into the Union database and figure out?” Atlas huffed as he finally put me back on my feet.

The old woman eyed me a moment when I winced.

“This whole planet is covered in huge underground springs.” I pulled out my tablet and showed him a geologic map of the area. “This town is right next to one of the largest. It’s famous throughout the Union for going off once a month and spews millions of gallons of super-heated water into the air.”

“Darn right, Missy!” The old woman interjected as everyone started looking up to the ceiling. The rumbling had stopped. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world was splitting in two just before the deluge. A deafening roar of water filled the air and vibrated the building in a wholly different way than before.  The old woman met my anxiety driven expression with a serene smile. “I built this place specially to harness the mineral water and turn it into a luxury hot spring!”

Atlas and I both looked around dubious of that comment. The laundry was small, cramped, and extremely dirty. The old woman seemed to pick up on this immediately, donning a huge grin. “Follow me…”

Atlas and I both looked at each other.

“That wasn’t a request…” Her sweet old woman demeanor dropped in an instant as she shot us a death glare from the doorway.

“Listen lady.” Atlas started to give her a piece of his mind.

“I assure you, criminal, I’m no lady.” A devious smile crept across her lips as everyone in the laundry pulled out guns and aimed them at us.

My heart hammered in my chest as I eyed the still locked doors and windows. My mind was trying desperately to figure out if I could hack into the system with my tablet.

“We’re all criminals like you!” The old man chimed very pleased with herself. “Hate those Union bastards! So any enemy of theirs is a friend of mine. Come on now and have a nice soak. It’ll fix that ankle right up!”

“It’s not like we can really leave right now…” Atlas vaguely motioned to the windows on one side of the building.

“Even if I lifted the metal plates you still couldn’t waltz out there right now anyways.” The old woman started tottering down a hall.

“The water has to drain and the surface has to cool down.” I explained as I glanced at Atlas.

“Guess we really have no choice then…” Atlas holstered his gun and started for the door. He offered me a hand when he noticed me hopping along awkwardly.

The old woman was standing in the middle of a lavish, wide hall. It looked like we had stepped into a whole other world. “Nice, no?” She grinned wide as she pulled out a key ring. Pulling a key out immediately, she unlocked the door in front of her. “Have a nice rest, on the house. Once everything settles down, you can give those Unions idiots the slip.” She seemed pretty genuine in the offer, but Atlas still gripped my hand tightly.

“Give me one good reason why we should trust you.”

The old woman laughed long and hard. “We clean a lot of things here for a lot of people, Sonny. Including items for people very much opposed to the Union. You’re in good hands.” She donned a cheesy smile and stuck out her pinkie. “I promise.”

“A pinkie promise is pretty serious.”

“You have got to be kidding me…” Atlas smacked his forehead.

“Well say what you want but I take them very seriously!” I hobbled over to the old woman and linked my pinkie with hers.

“Atta girl!” She shook her hand up and down while our pinkies were still locked. Then she shoved the door open revealing the most lavish room I had ever seen. “I’ll have some food brought by soon, enjoy the bath in the meantime!” With that she tottered away leaving me to ogle the room.

Atlas finally joined me at the door, but he seemed just as dumbfounded as me. After a long moment of stunned silence, he muttered under his breath. “Smugglers…” A faint smile he took a tentative step into the room. “Well they definitely aren’t going to bring the Union here…”

“Well that’s a relief…” I wandered in behind him and closed the door. The whole room was full of rich and plush fabrics from the blankets on the bed to the upholstery on the furniture. I sank into an over-sized chair and sighed in satisfaction. “This is nice…”

“Yeah but where is this bath?” Atlas very cautiously opened the only other door in the room. “That’s not a bath…”

“What is it?” I sat up and craned my neck to look into the room.

“A damn swimming pool…”

I knew I looked completely confused as I got up and walked up behind him. Swimming pool was an exaggeration but it was definitely not a bath tub. 5 or 6 people could comfortably sit in the steaming water.

“That looks wonderful…”

“Then get in.” Atlas started to move to leave. He must have seen the pout on my face because he stopped and faced me. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. “You look like you have something to say…” Even though his voice had a gruff edge there was a fire in his eyes.

“Well…” My eyes darted to the pooltub as I scrambled for an excuse to get him to join me. “I was just thinking I might need some help getting in and out. What if I slip and get hurt even worse?” Yes play to your strengths! Even if those strengths include being a total klutz…

Atlas rolled his eyes as if he were completely put off by the whole thing. “Fine, fine…” He offered me his hand again. “It’d be a pain in the pass if I had to carry you all the way back to the ship.”

SCORE!

I sat down on a chair near the “bath” and started taking my jacket off. I looked over and Atlas was on the complete opposite side of the room taking his jacket off. Well he did agree to take a bath with me so I guess I can’t be too mad. Except he stopped after taking off his jacket…

“I thought you were going to take a bath too…”

He gave me a smug look. “I said I would help you in and out. I never said I was taking one with you.”

Not… technically… wrong… I sighed inwardly before taking off the rest of my clothes. Gentleman that he was, Atlas didn’t look the whole time. Which filled me with one part relief, one part odd disappointment. With a towel wrapped around me, told him I was ready.

I took the hand he offered me and a ginger stepped to the edge of the bath. Just as I was about to step in, a sharp pain in my ankle made me jump. Small though it may have been, it was enough to make me slip and start falling. I watched as the water seemed to come ever closer, in slow motion, that is until something completely different filled my vision. After the water cleared, I realized that Atlas had broke my fall and was now blowing bubbles at me from under the water. As if in a horror movie with one jump scare after another, the towel lazily floated between us…

“Sorry!” I hurriedly grasped the towel and moved to get off the very unamused looking Atlas. I barely covered myself and scurried to a corner of the spacious bath to cower in mortified shame and embarrassment. Atlas looked at me completely exasperated as half his face remained below the surface, then quickly looked away.

“You gonna do something with that towel or you gonna pretend to be a bathhouse lady?” His head now fully above the water, I could see his cheeks turning a bit red. I stared at him agape for a minute while my brain argued with itself as to whether the water caused his red cheeks or he was blushing. Atlas Molniya absolutely doesn’t blush. Can we make Atlas Molniya blush? I’m certainly willing to try!

“Since you’re already all wet…”I smiled awkwardly at Atlas hoping the heat of the water would explain away my red cheeks too.

“Do you know where we are…?” There was a dangerous lilt to his voice that completely threw me off.

“In… a… bathtub…?” I was pretty sure that wasn’t the answer he was looking for but the look he was giving me made it REALLY hard to think straight. The only thing louder than my racing heart was the slow slosh of the water every time he moved closer.

“We’re in an underworld bathhouse… You do know what kinds of things happen in underworld bathhouses, right?”

“I’m… guessing more than just nice, relaxing baths?” It was more a squeak than anything.

“So much more…”

He was so close now I would have been able to feel his breath if it weren’t for the steam rising from the water. “TOO CLOSE!” I thrust out my hand and connected with his forehead

“Finally starting to understand the completely ridiculous situation we’ve managed to get ourselves in?” Atlas was back, but he still looked off.

“Well yes… But… Are you feeling all right?” I tried to sound more concerned than nervous but the shark in the water routine had been a bit much. In fact, I was feeling a little dizzy between my racing heart and the hot water.

“Never better. Why?” He stood up as he said this and immediately started wobbling. “Ok, maybe not…” He managed to get half way down again before he passed out… right on top of me…

“Oh, stars…”

Somehow I managed to get us both out of the bath and on to the floor. I had to get him out of these soaking wet clothes. And well… that was… certainly… something…

“Please don’t wake up right now… Please don’t wake up right now.” Red-faced I fumbled with the fastener on Atlas’s pants, with my eyes closed. The same quiet prayer escaping my lips on repeat.

“Ya know, consent goes both ways.” An irritated voice muttered as a clammy hand grasped mine.

“Oh stars! It wasn’t like that!” I feel as though my face got even redder at that moment. “I just thought if I couldn’t get you into the bed I could at least get most of your wet clothes off!” I huffed and turned away pouting.

“Uh huh…” I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or truly skeptical of my motives.

“Are you feeling any better than that you’re out of the hot water?”

“Yeah.” Without saying much else he got to his feet, soggy shirt in hand.

“Uh…”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for this day to be over.”

“Oh…” I tried to hide my disappointment. It had been a really long day after all, what with the being chased and shot at, harbored by some crazy old lady in the criminal underworld, bathtub shenanigans… I came to an immediate stop next to Atlas, coming to the same realization at about the same time.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no! You just passed out! Take the bed and I’ll take the couch!”

“What kind of man would I be if I made a woman sleep on a couch when there’s a perfectly good bed?” He gave me a glare, but it was half-hearted at best.

“We could…” Oh stars… should I really say it?

“What? We could what?” Atlas flopped down on the couch and looked up at me.

“We could… just sleep together… in the bed… since there’s only one…”

His eyebrow quirked up ever so slightly. A blush started creeping up his neck. “I was trying to be a gentleman… But you’re making it real damn hard, I hope you’re aware of that.”

“I just don’t want you to sleep on the couch if you aren’t well.”

“It’s hard to think you have anything but bad intentions when I wake up to you in nothing but a towel trying to take my pants off…”

Oh… that is not a good look for my heart… I watched as he push the button on the wall to turn off the lights.

“AH!”

“What? Do you really want to have sex with the lights on?” I could hear shuffling as he moved closer. “I lived with Jaxson long enough that I refuse to have sex with the lights on.”

That’s fair. Jaxson does seem like the type to just… burst in at random times…

“Well no... it’s just I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it?” There was just enough light in the room for me to see him get close. “What about you passing out?”

“I had to carry you halfway across town while being shot at. I was just overheated from that is all.”

“Ugh… I really should go on a diet…”

“Why? You’re fine just as you are…” His cool fingers worked their way under the towel until they found the flesh of my sides and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Oh stars…” Before I knew what was happening I was in the bed.

“Tonight, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow, we can take our time…” Much like the name of his ship, there was so much promise in his voice.

“Uh… are you at least going to let me put some clothes on first?”

“Nope.”

“Oh… all right…” Unable to get up through the tangle of his body of mine, I opted to snuggle up next to him and fall asleep instead.

#voltage #starship promise #atlas molniya #trope bingo #fanfic #indulgent fluff #side of spice

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Happy Together : 3

Admiration

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Chapter Summary: The reader gets a surprise.

Notes: Okay, so I’m in a bit of a limbo trying to decide what to focus on now that Witness is all done (except for posting). I’m also working on raffle winners. Hopefully, when I hit 1000 followers and get some stuff sorted, I can open real requests (although I might do it for a short window as I’d hate to let people down), but that’s for the future.

This series is gonna get weird in a bit. Like, I mean dark!Steve is a beast but this version, well let me personally apologize to Marvel and Chris Evans for what I have done.

Thanks to everyone who reads and as always, I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

After purchasing his copy of Inferno, Steve typed on his phone swiftly and tucked it back in the inside pocket of his jacket. You paid for your magazines and shielded them beneath your wool coat as you braced yourself for a brief dash through the rain. He opened the door with another ring of the bell and directed you out ahead of him, pausing just beside you under the awning. A silver car pulled up, the same you had seen that day at the park, and Steve's hand gently nudged your arm, urging you towards the car.

He stepped ahead of you and briskly opened the door, waving you within and you ducked into the vehicle, eager to be out of the shower of cool spring drops. Your hair was half-soaked from only seconds in the downpour and your wet ponytail clung to the collar of your jacket. Steve sidled in next to you as you moved across the leather seat, fumbling your magazines as you settled against the opposite door. A dark screen separated the backseat from the front, the driver still a faceless steering wheel.

“Whew,” Steve pushed back the hair which had fallen forward in the rush, “It's almost refreshing after the winter we had.”

“Yeah,” You agreed flatly, embracing the magazines as you kept your eyes forward.  Even as you pressed yourself to the door, he felt entirely too close. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem, but we better tell Deni where to go.” He tapped on the black screen with two knuckles and it jolted down slightly, enough for sound to pass through. “Your address?”

“Um,” You hesitated to say. You hadn't really thought this out. Steve had been nice but he was a complete stranger. A stranger you had managed to run into several times in a city so big you never saw the same face twice. It was too late to go back, you resigned as you looked out at the rainy pavement. “It's ------.”

“You haven't stopped by the restaurant yet,” He remarked, his arm stretching across the seat as it had done on the park bench.

“Sorry, I've been working. I've got a quite a few commissions.” You laid the magazines flat on your lap, nervously resting your palm on the top cover.

“Well whenever you find a chance, the meal’s on me,” He smiled. “And the wine.”

“I can't do that. Really, I'll come, but I can pay for myself.” You already felt as if you had accepted far too much and with every favour, you felt more of an obligation to the man. You didn't like that feeling. You had worked for two years to become your own person, you weren't going to toss it away over a five-star dinner.

“I'm sorry your date never showed up,” He said plaintively, “He missed out.”

You winced and cleared your throat. Even he knew you had been stood up. “He had an emergency and well it just didn't work out anyways. He's not really my type.”

“You have a type?” He smirked and you suddenly felt as if oxygen was foreign to your body. A martian trapped on a planet not your own. He was looking to you expectantly as you tried to muster words and answer.

“Well, I don't know. I guess we just didn't, um, mesh,” Your fingers tapped nervously on the magazines. Tension rose between you, the warmth of his arm across the seat seeped around you.

“Hey, I keep forgetting to ask. You got a business card? I've been thinking of a rebrand for Spice next year. In this business, you gotta keep on top of trends,” He spoke casually but there was conspiracy in his tone. “Maybe you can send me some pricing and stuff.”

“Uh, maybe,” You cursed your own savviness at keeping cards on your at all times. He already knew your address, did he need everything else? You could feign not having one but you were sure he'd find a way to get your info. You flicked out a card and held it out to him. He took it and read the small font, running his index along the edge. A glimmer of victory shone in his eyes.

The car came to a stop and you looked over as it pulled into your lot. Thank God. “Um, this is me.” You squeaked, thankful for the out. “I appreciate the ride.”

“Anytime,” He slowly lowered his arm back to his side as you opened the door and climbed out.

You looked back briefly as he said goodbye, the rain having slowed to tolerable. His eyes devoured your every move, clinging to you until the door shut. You swirled around to hide the bob in your throat as you tried to swallow your discomfort. It had to be all in your head, right? Your past just made you distrustful; cautious. You walked up to your building and into the lobby. You glanced over and the silver car remained on the street. You unlocked the main door and let yourself in, happy for the protection of the self-locking entrance. The car didn’t move was even as you stepped onto the elevator, its silver body visible just through the front doors. Even as the doors closed, you could still the vehicle looming like a phantom; watching, waiting.

--------------

A couple days and nothing unusual happened. You spent Tuesday morning at your desk. By four, you were content with all you had done and finished up your emails. You had managed to convince yourself that you had been reading the situation too closely. Not a peep or sight of Steve. You realized now he must have asked for your card as a courtesy, his offer of a free meal extended without expectation of fulfillment. You felt even more the fool for thinking it had been more than chance. You were still the antsy woman who had been stood up at the hippest joint in the city.

As the weather grew nicer you tried to get out more. The winter had been long and frigid, many of your nights spent wrapped in a throw as you hunched over your tablet. You wanted to enjoy the sunshine before it got too humid to breathe. You threw on a zip-up hoodie and grabbed your purse, ambling down the stairs with your headphones snug over your ears. You turned on some dreamy Hozier melodies and disappeared into the endless stream of pedestrians on  the New York streets.

You took your usual route, the noise of traffic muted by your music and you turned into the park, heading along the benches as the smell of pollen filled your nose. The tulips were start to open up and the trees had full branches as the leaves had returned in lush prestige. You turned down the path that led to the sanctuary where the municipal council was trying to preserve a piece of nature in the urban jungle.

There were small checkpoints along the path, a bench and the occasional picnic table to rest or sit and take in the rare palatial scene. You sat on the bench and watch a squirrel climb the winding branches, leaping bravely from one to the next. You smiled as you enjoyed the moment of peace, the rhythm lifting you up as you leaned back and stared at the clouds through the leaves. You should have brought a sketchbook you bemoaned to yourself. Well, maybe next time.

You sat until the day began to dim to evening and you stretched before setting off the way you had. You stopped at the first curve of the trail, your eye caught by an unusual rustle of a bush. Your heart caught but you found it to be nothing more than a breeze. You chuckled to yourself and carried on. That path was empty as the night loomed. You could see the edge of the park just ahead and you relaxed just a little.

You took out your phone to restart the song and were suddenly pulled off-balance. A thick arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you into the thicket, turning you and pushing you against a large oak. You tried to shove yourself away and break free from between the tree and your accoster but they were too strong. 

You clawed at the thick forearm and another hand came up, the edge if your vision catch the hem of white rag. The smell that hit you was sickening as you were smothered and you tried not to inhale but your only alternative was to suffocate. Your head turned woozy and your vision blurred, your body falling limp as the black swallowed you up.

****

tags: @ruff-m3rc @alexakeyloveloki @lanabanana-86 @sathlens @jessieray98 @kellyn1604 @ahideousthinginside @ironlady1993 @kloe-iel @grayxswan @iheartsebastianstan @myboyfriendgiriboy @tanelle83 @patzammit @phoenix21love @they-call-me-le @iheartsebastianstan @spaghettirogers @buckycaptspideypool @bethanyzed @meaganottiz02 @patzammit @breezy1415 @beautiful-and-strange @momc95

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #fic #mcu #marvel #happy together #series #au #dark!fic #darkverse #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers

[split-n-splice]

This night will last a few chapters. ;B enjoi

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

29. Aura of Others – 3

Even a strange blue man in bed next to her would have been a better sight than cracking her eyes open to a scruffy brown rat down by her feet, nibbling a puff of popcorn. Shilo shrieked and nailed the pest with a shot of plasma before she could think twice. Blasted straight off the foot of the bed, it hit the ground running, and she heard the squealing rodent flee to the hole in the wall across the apartment.

Regretting the reflex, she hoped that it wouldn’t die in the walls and leave a nasty odor.

She heaved a breath and melted back into the sheets, limp and just a little numb already from the undue adrenaline. She had four minutes until her alarm clock sounded off, which was four minutes to spare to stare up at her hands.

Today was the day. She’d really be testing her willpower and self-control by the end of it.

Shilo let her hands ignite, pouring her concentration into it until the glow began to feel hot even by her standards. It was a good indicator she was overdoing it when the cotton sleeves bunched around her elbows began to discolor and smoke.

She snuffed it out completely at will as the alarm clock beeped, and let her hands cool in the air for another minute before dropping them over herself, warming her stomach.

Deep breaths. She could do this. It wasn’t like she’d never been on a date before. Well, alright, so maybe she hadn’t officially – but she’d hung out with people in groups and alone and that was practically the same, and she’d made out with the neighbor boy a few times after returning to the charade of a normal life and might have made it to third base had big brother not presumably butted in.

She shoved the thought from her mind too late. She didn’t need a grudge fogging her brain today, and she didn’t need to kick it off by over-thinking scenarios so soon and getting in a tizzy.

The alarm clock was on her last nerve. She nearly blasted it to smithereens. But it was in front of the vanity mirror, and she was in no mood to clean up more shattered glass so soon.

As she prepared herself for the day, she tried to remain deaf to the rain coming down in sheets and driving waves of clamor on the roof and windows, at least until the saturated roof began to leak. She sighed remorsefully and mopped up the mess with a designated towel before pushing a pot under the drip which she knew might not be enough to contain the leak if the rain didn’t let up soon.

She had her slicker and an umbrella, and was braced to make the soggy walk to Buckley’s despite any drowsy agreements she’d made last night, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself smirking gratefully at the blue man in a brown suede jacket standing outside her door, holding an umbrella of his own.

“So you can tell time,” she noted.

Drakken grunted but held out an arm. “Your chariot awaits,” he said. It might have been more charming or funny had he been more enthusiastic.

Shilo didn’t remark on his mood and rather than accepting the gesture, she shoved him before stepping under the shelter of his umbrella instead of popping open her own.

He’d worried her last night with his little outburst, but he’d reigned it in and composed himself in short order. She’d lightheartedly offered to make a pact that if they both found themselves diligently avoiding family on the fourth Thursday of November, they could just skip town and dine on gourmet Chow, holiday edition. Effectively cheered up, Drakken had loved the prospect enough that he hadn’t even noticed the plasma glittering over her palm when they’d shook on it.

Though he’d been in good enough spirits when he insisted on leaving early last night, he didn’t look all that giddy today. His eyelids were heavy, though he didn’t look incredibly tired, and his lips were pulled into a slight frown as if something had left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. As she studied his face, he cast his dark eyes her way, and she snapped her stare back to the road quickly.

“Chow?” he offered.

“If we hit the drive-thru,” she agreed. She sighed drearily to herself and leaned her head against the window streaked with rain. “I’m going to get sick if I keep eating that crap though.”

“You’re realizing this now?” He was one to talk, with his freezer full of microwavable junk.

She almost kicked him. “Shaddup.” She settled for flipping him the bird, but Drakken only chuckled.

Truth be told, she was too uneasy to have more than a couple bites of her breakfast cereal earlier. She’d dumped the remainder down the toilet, and the rest had followed a moment later when she’d upchucked, no thanks to the nerves curdling in her stomach all morning. She’d barely been up for an hour and the day was off to a bad start already. She’d brushed her teeth and gargled afterward, but a hash brown patty to nibble on helped get the taste out of her mouth and off her breath once and for all, or so she hoped.

She was picking the patty apart and watching the grey swaths of rain sweep through town as they left the Cow-n-Chow lot when something caught her eye. The neon sign wasn’t lit this early, but it was legible enough. With a surge of nerves prickling down her spine, her eyes popped wide and she realized she’d never tracked down the rendezvous point.

There was no need now, she realized as she watched Westinger Grill slide away into the gray haze. She shot an inquiring look to her glum driver and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

“Westinger Grill,” she spat out. “That’s the weird karaoke place, right?”

Drakken glanced back in the mirror and gave a grunt and a shrug in reply. “You mean the one you hated?”

A baffled, “Huh?” fell out of her mouth. Sure, she might have been uncomfortable and dreaded being pulled on stage like the first time, but – Shilo frowned at the gloomy man and defended herself, “I never said that.”

“You dined and dashed,” he stated as if the fact alone was proof.

Shilo clammed up at the reminder. She almost threw her hash brown to the dirty floorboard of the stolen station wagon, appetite momentarily quelled, but took a big bite instead for a perfectly acceptable excuse not to answer him. She didn’t have to defend herself anyway. She’d been under no obligation to stay. She hadn’t even left because she hated it – though it might be better to let him think that, she decided. In fact, she’d really sort of liked it. Too much. And he’d sat a little too close, and his smile had been a little too warm, or made her a little too warm – and she’d decided it was better to bail before it was too late, before she lost her cool like she did every time angel boy hexed her, like she was on the verge of doing now—

“Do I need to pull over?” Drakken piped, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “You look sick.”

“It’s just the dru—uh—uhm.” She couldn’t blame the medication anymore. He couldn't know about the debilitating drug at all – period – let alone that she had it in her possession. “No. I’m fine.” Her mouth was full of cotton but she swallowed against it anyway, and slouched back and folded her hands over her stomach to discreetly blow on them with a sigh. She’d taken another nip earlier to cool herself down, and had the remnants of the tablet in her purse just in case. She was good to go. She wasn’t at risk of flaring up at the tiniest bit of agitation.

“Are you sure?” He sounded less concerned for her and more concerned with having a mess to clean up.

“I’m sure.”

She picked her hash brown back up from her lap, finishing it off and inwardly hoping he wouldn’t need to pull over after all as she tucked into her muffin sandwich too.

The big day was really off to a rotten start, she decided. She’d been sick once, almost sick a second time, nearly lost her cool over a trivial accusation, and resorted to messing around in her purse to take another pinch off a pill and sneak the crumb under her tongue when Drakken wasn’t looking, all before even arriving at Buckley’s Brew.

When he asked if she’d be needing a ride this afternoon, he added the snide remark about chaperoning her and angel boy. She told him to get bent and leapt out of the car to make the dash through the pouring rain and into Buckley’s. In her haste, she forgot her umbrella but opted not to go back for it.

All day, she watched the rain outside fall. In such dreary weather, foot traffic was low and customers were few and far between. Which left ample time for Abigail and Chester, the kitchen hand, to gang up on her, making inquiries and accusations about her involvement with the local villain, perverse or otherwise, as well as pressing for classified information regarding Team Go  – like what was a real lair like, did she really think she stood a chance of getting into LHU with her track record, and was Drakken hiring yet?

The dogging lasted until Buckley broke it up. Shilo regretted sneaking yet another nip halfway through her shift – otherwise, she might have thrown a glow-laced punch at her fellow barista’s pudgy face to end the discussion. Given a break from the remarks and questions, she slumped into a seat as a fog settled over her, only to jump up at the chime announcing a customer’s arrival. Her immediate fear was angel boy, or Drakken, or her brothers, but it was just a regular, and she put on a warm smile for the drenched woman laughing and making light of the downpour filling the reservoir.

By noon, a small ray of hope shined, golden and tantalizing outside on wet pavement. The rain hadn’t stopped, but it had lightened up considerably, the clouds breaking up enough to let some shifting sunlight reach the drenched oasis town.

As she left Buckley’s that afternoon, she looked to the heavens to study the blue sky mottled with bruises of grey rain clouds drifting eastward. The weather report, according to the television installed in the corner of the café, claimed the storm had passed, but there was still a churning tumult in her stomach as she trudged home, taking detours around flooded streets and grudgingly wading through an ankle-deep puddle on the last intersection, her studio in sight.

Her umbrella was leaned against the door. She scoffed a curse at the man who wasn’t even there.

As she hung up her things, she cast a glance at the clock. Three hours to go. She contemplated showing up fashionably late, or early, or – she swore again and combed her fingers through her hair. What did people wear to these sorts of things? She groaned to herself, wondering if everyday street clothes were acceptable, as she didn’t own anything nicer. Not yet anyway.

Two hours later, she’d turned her closet and drawers inside out and prayed she wouldn’t be bringing a guest home tonight. That thought alone was like dropping a live wire in a puddle, sending sparks of heat flooding to all the wrong places. She was getting ahead of herself. She was in this for payback. Not to behave like some deprived love-struck puppy. Not that she could risk pushing her luck without a little help from the pill – and she wasn’t about to roofie herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut and denied doing exactly that just to relax enough to watch a simple movie with Drakken last night.

Hell, she’d even started to fall asleep again, despite his outburst. The rogue could have done anything, but instead, he’d decided to take his leave. Shilo wanted to shout and swear now that she’d only imagined grabbing his sleeve to ask him to stay. Or maybe she’d asked if he wanted to stay. Maybe she’d been asking, or hoping, for both. Maybe she’d even wanted to try having someone beside her – actually beside her, not out of reach clear across a stupidly vast oversized bed. She’d slept in dogpiles among her brothers after tough missions before, but a man was inherently different—

She shuddered and tried to pull her thoughts back to angel boy. Angel boy was who she was seeing tonight. Angel boy was who she pulled on her nicest spotless khakis and teal cardigan for, and why she clipped on the bracelet for good measure. Hair tied back to show her earrings, she wondered if the rockhound could tell at a glance the difference between rhinestones and genuine diamonds – and then decided if he was such a snob that he cared, well, she’d just have to raise the price of payback.

She still wasn’t sure what she had planned for angel boy. Something along the lines of burglary brought a smile to her as she headed out into the evening to make the trek across town. She could steal things little by little, or swindle him, or scope out the precious gems packed in that big gaudy house she was positive a young guy like him didn’t own. It was probably his parents’ house. That slowed her pace. She really wouldn’t like having to deal with meeting anyone’s parents, but if that’s what it took to get inside to get a good look around, then so be it. A house like that probably had a nice security system – not that cameras had ever stopped her before.

A cold wind blew straight through her as the Cow-n-Chow came into sight, just off Main Street on the far end of town. She hugged herself and wished she’d worn something warmer than the cardigan. She longed for a cozy woolen sweater, maybe one that enveloped her in a weird mix of comforting smells like cookies and oil-spills in the lab. Then again, smelling like one of Drakken’s workshop rags couldn’t be the best way to show up for a date, she supposed.

She looked up from watching for puddles as the chosen restaurant came into view. The sign to Westinger Grill buzzed in bright red, and in the window, just as she’d seen before, the karaoke sign flashed as if to tempt passerby.

As she cut through the parking lot toward the tall junipers lining the walkway to the entrance and patio, a familiar ugly station wagon caught her eye. Before she could groan in dread – it couldn’t be – she was discontented to find the front patio was occupied.

Slumped over on a bench near the door sat a man looking a little too blue for her liking. And of all things, he was puffing away at a cigarette she doubted was making him feel any better, by the looks of it. Or if it was, she’d hate to have seen him before he lit up. He was still in his plain street clothes, yet he looked a little disheveled as if he’d been thrown out or had neglected to tuck in his shirt or straighten his jacket all day.

Shilo’s pace slowed as she neared and she stopped before him. Her hands rested on her hips, but his droopy gaze didn’t lift from his scuffed oxfords. “Dr. Drakken?” she called down to him as if unsure it was the same moody scientist she knew. His eyes darted up at her, and he pulled a face almost like a sneer – yep, still Drakken – and she shifted to cross her arms. “What are you doing here? You know, this stalking thing is getting old—”

“Oh, you think everything’s about you, don’t you?” he snorted, and nodded to the window behind him. Specifically the blinking karaoke sign in it. He checked his watch. “Doesn’t start for another…oh…fifteen. Thirteen? Minutes.”

She gathered she was early.

“And you’re totally sulking about karaoke and not the fact we aren’t doing some Bonnie and Clyde gig, which you were just bitching about yesterday.” She nodded to herself as if that made perfect sense – and in the next second, she had the feeling she was off the mark when he shot her a dirty look that made her shift again and back down.

“It’s not about you, Shego,” he reiterated, grinding out the words. “Fuck off.” He was in an especially bad mood tonight, she decided.

Shilo held up her hands in peace. “Language, Doc,” she teased tersely.

The crotchety man rolled his eyes and mimicked her in a whiny indiscernible mutter. “Why are you here?” he grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously as she turned to cast a glance back around the parking lot.

No angel boy in sight, she stepped forward and took a seat next to Drakken on the bench, though she kept a mindful distance. She leaned a little to peek at his wristwatch, but that was as close as she came. “What do you think?” she scoffed, smoothing out the wrinkles on her sleeves. “Waiting on my date.”

Pissy mood aside, Drakken cracked a weak lopsided smile. “I’m flattered,” he jibbed.

“Oh, shut up,” she bit back, and almost struck him in the shoulder.

Drakken almost reluctantly offered the cigarette her way then, raising his brow as if in question. She decided maybe he wasn’t in such a bad mood after all. Or maybe it was improving the longer she sat beside him. She wanted to pretend she was imagining it, but she could see him cheering up and sitting straighter, his eyes brighter, focused, and on her.

Minutes of silence passed. The cigarette changed hands a few times before Drakken finally flicked the butt into the juniper hedge, and the silence ensued for some time after as patrons of Westinger Grill came and went.

Shilo heard the first musically-challenged karaoke enthusiast of the night begin caterwauling inside. Drakken remained next to her, twiddling his thumbs and looking glum, but still better than he had when she’d arrived. “It’s starting,” she noted.

“Yes, I know. I’m not deaf.” He made no move to get up. He seemed to shrink just a little even, his spirits dimmed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna sing, then what are you doing here?” she wondered. “You know, besides sulking out here in the cold?” She could see her breath now and it wasn’t the smoke anymore, she realized. She rubbed her arms. If she hadn’t been medicating herself with a pinch here and there all day, she might have had her second nature readily burning her up right about now.

Drakken slouched back and let out a horrible noise that passed for a sigh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to tell you.” His snooty answer changed when she kicked his shin, but not before he released another guttural groan and slumped forward to hide behind a hand. “The plan is to drink my troubles away and do something foolhardy,” he grumbled, and she elbowed him. He nodded to the parking lot. “I’m pushing the car off a cliff.”

Shilo still had the sense he was omitting something, but she let it go for now. She stifled a small laugh and caught herself inching closer, close enough he was almost warm against her side. Or maybe that was just her. “What? You think I wouldn’t want in on pushing a car off a cliff?” It sounded better than karaoke, anyway.

“Why would I invite you? You were supposed to have a date,” Drakken reminded.

He had a point. She narrowed her eyes and didn’t comment on it though. Instead, she scoffed. “Why the sudden urge to push a perfectly good car off a cliff anyway?”

She had a pretty good idea of the ledge he was thinking of. She’d parked the SUV there her first night in the oasis. It was a good place to push a car from – if memory served her well. The thought of sitting on top of the car overlooking the pond of light in the valley below, sharing quiet chatter and making plans to cause a little chaos, was more appealing than sitting outside a grill waiting for a tardy angel boy who may or may not show.

Drakken shrugged. He dug in his coat pocket for his pack of smokes, but she reached across to push his hand down. If he lit another now, they’d be out here until it was finished – and it was getting pretty chilly out. Her hand rested over his for a second too long, and it was a decidedly good thing he was wearing his leather gloves or he might have felt the pinpricks of her nerves shooting down to her fingertips before she could snap her hand back.

The man let out another grievous sigh, his breath still smoky from the last cigarette and already bearing a hint of alcohol. She shouldn’t have been close enough to smell it. “It looks too much like my mother’s,” grumbled Drakken.

Shilo couldn’t help quirking her brow at him. “I thought you said you wanted a station wagon?”

“I did, but that was before – nngg!” He shoved his glasses up and scrubbed his face. His temper was climbing again. “Just let it go, please. I’m begging you.”

Just as she’d been about to scoot away to give him breathing space, Drakken jumped up. His hands flailed in the air and he gestured down the street, smacking into the juniper in the wild movement as he did. “Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” he griped, just about yelling it down at her.

“Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” she retorted, rising as well.

Drakken crinkled his nose and curled his lip. “Because! I’m – I was here first!”

“Too bad. I have a prior arrangement to be here.” Shilo crossed her arms and planted her feet.

He took a quick scan about and threw his arms out into the air on either side of him. “Well it looks like you’ve been stood up,” he announced. That wasn’t true. Was it? She didn’t have the time – and Drakken didn’t know when she was supposed to meet angel boy anyway.

Shilo crossed her arms. The assumption stirred worry in her gut, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking around to be sure for herself, or of letting the disappointment show on her face. She gave a little shrug she hoped was nonchalant and indifferent enough to mask it. “Yeah, not the first time,” she lied.

A strange mix of pity and anger flashed in the man’s eyes, and his face twisted, and he crossed his arms as well and practically stamped a foot as he turned to take in their surroundings again. “We could both go to Cow-n-Chow,” he suggested as if it were troublesome just to speak the words.

“Little tired of Chow,” Shilo dismissed. It wasn’t a lie in the least. Some pasta and breadsticks would be a nice change, but she’d be happy with chicken tenders too.

“Alright then…” Drakken rocked on his heels for a second, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was starting to look chilled. At least, she’d like to think that was why his ears and cheeks were turning purple. “Well, there’s always room at my table,” he said with a nod to the door of the restaurant and held out his arm for her to take, just as he had Monday night when he’d been decked out in his Halloween costume. “Care to join me?”

Eyeing his arm, she entertained the idea. Her hand, nervous tingling aside, itched to take it, and her heart thumped in encouragement and her stomach did a funny flip that wasn’t as sickening as she might have expected after being so worried sick earlier in the day.

But a buzzing pulled her attention past Drakken then, and he glanced back over the hedge just as none other than angel boy came zipping into the parking lot on a dinky little white moped. Drakken scoffed and made a sarcastic comment under his breath, “No helmet? What a daredevil.”

Shilo shoved him toward the door. “Get outta here,” she hissed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he grumbled. “Suit yourself. See you inside.”

“Don’t crash any cars without me!” she whispered sharply at his back.

#Drakgo #Drakken #Shego #TCYK #The Company You Keep fic

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