#// or the fact hes literally been camping out on the hard ass floor for weeks every single night

[tewwor-moving]

Time stops.

Even as the world around him rushes forth; his own body carried along with it. What was once a well kept visage has all but dissolved into hopelessness. Dark locks have reached just past his shoulders, mostly in a half combed mess. Wrinkles invaded every piece of clothing. Dark circles bruised themselves beneath each eye. A deep, almost unbearable sadness weighed on him. And for once he didn’t numb the anguish. Didn’t feel right when he put his all into that last confession.

It’s made him careless, he’ll admit it. Overly reckless with other emotions to the point where he landed in hot acidic water. All because of a small disagreement with a newer member. The sadness turned ire he carried was pushed onto that person without thinking of the consequences. And, in layman’s terms, he was forced to meet his own temper head on twofold. Barely came out of it alive. Wouldn’t have if Vector hadn’t miraculously stopped by in the nick of time.

There were too many injuries to keep track of in that bleary state. Consciousness weaved in and out for what felt like an eternity. Then it all crashed into place. A sudden burst of pure agony engulfed him to mirror the brilliant blue flames spread across his broken body. Litho’s cleared to return soon after. And he does, though bleakly. The fear of Ricochet returning is the only thing that maintains some amount of life in him. Otherwise, he’d be sulking his way into the floorboards. Try and bury himself in meaningless conversations with himself about what he could’ve done different.

Not that it’d matter. What’s done is done.

All he can do is mope and keep her perch accessible just in case. It’s become the only clean spot in his shop. The light’s always on. Windows kept unlocked. Two fresh towels stacked in a basket just beside the opening in case it’s been raining out. There’s even that crystal decanter on a nearby table; not without two well polished glasses waiting to be filled again in good company.

Litho’s come to sit vigil every night. Long after regular shop hours are over and all the doors are locked. He sits and waits. Scrawls thoughts wrapped in poetry whenever the threat of sleep creeps in. Until he’s unable to keep those heavy eyelids open and stare yearningly for her appearance. Wish upon it. Even pray on the occasional whim of desperation.

The start to a fitful slumber barely begins when something wakes him. Still groggy and disheartened, he blinks his eyes open slowly. Doesn’t care if his vision blurs as he rubs at them too hard. Except — wait. Bloodshot eyes shoot open and clear all at once when it registers. She’s here. Lucid dreaming or not, the instantaneous elation he feels carries him forward. Half scrambling, half shocked he’s closing the space between them once more.

“Seph, you’re back,” he breathes out in a rush. Trembling hands stretching before him to help Persephone inside. “You’re— welcome back.”

@tewwor.

IT HAS BEEN THREE WEEKS, AND PERSEPHONE has not been able to stop thinking about the look on lionel's face when she stepped away from him. the way she refused to explain; the way leaving his embrace left her body cold. ( you're a liability. i can't afford a liability. ) three weeks of no contact, three weeks of working herself past her body's limits, three weeks spent tracking down her latest target before ripping him to shreds with her claws and teeth.

it is under these circumstances, hunched over what was once a body and trembling from the adrenaline crash, that something in her crumples. a wall, maybe. one of the many barriers they built between HELLHOUND, the monster they've become, and PERSEPHONE — the terrified young thing who does not want to suffer this night alone.

they only snap back to awareness once they're at lionel's building. somehow, she's managed to haul her unstable and hulking frame across the district on muscle memory alone, without cops on her tail. one hell of a feat for a 6'4" woman covered in blood. the lights are on — of course they are — and she can see the window above her, the one she always climbs up the outer wall to get to. ( it's open. )

the shakes have only gotten worse. finally, persephone pulls her shivering body onto the windowsill and pauses to catch her breath. blood everywhere. blood matted in her hair, dried on her skin, in her clothes, in her teeth. but she's here.

[kaaytea]

How about being the manager of Inarizaki, Nekoma, Seijoh and Shiratorizawa and how the boys would feel when they finally finally get a manager? :0

New Manager

⤷Includes: Nekoma, Inarizaki, Seijoh, Shiratorizawa

A/n: I haven't written for the HQ boys in a hot minute so I was sUper hyped for this! Thank you for the request, dear 💕

----------------------------------------------------------

Nekoma

Nekoma has been manager-less for so long that literally the entire team was dumbfounded when they spotted you chilling next to Nekomata

Like hello??? Who are you and what are you doing in their gym???

There's a good few seconds of silence when Nekomata introduces you

Despite being cats, they greatly resembled their Fukurodani rivals as they blinked back at you with big curious eyes

That is until Yamamoto slumps to his knees and starts tearing up, blabbering on about how they've been blessed with a manager while a quiet Fukunaga pats his back in an almost humouring manner

Yamamoto's out burst is what loosens up the team and they start making their way to introduce themselves to you

The first is Kuroo, who approaches you with a welcoming smirk which was quickly followed by a gentle smile from Kai and a reassuring pat on the back from Yaku

The first years are VERY eager to meet you! Lev and Inouka are bouncing around you spewing out questions to the point where Yaku has to kick them both and send them off to warm up

Sweet Shibayama very nervously bows at you and thanks you for taking care of the team (what a baby 🤧💕)

The entire team absolutely loves you by the end of your first day (yes even the aloof creature that is Kenma, though he'll never admit it)

Nekoma's inner team dynamic is very familial and you're immediately sucked into the little family vibes they got going on

The first years love to be around you! (Specifically Lev bc you're not as mean to him as everyone else)

The first years are always volunteering to help you carry equipment or water bottles

You once caught one of the jokes Fukunaga muttered during practice so now the two of you bounce little puns and jokes off of eachother to see who can get the other to laugh first (he is currently winning. although, you got him to tear up from laughing so hard once which you've been counting as 10 wins)

The third years tend to mother hen you a bit, specifically Yaku and Kuroo

Kuroo made it very clear to you that you're apart of the team even if you don't play on the court, so as captain it's his job to make sure all his players are ok (mentally, physically, socially, you name it! He's always looking out for you and is basically your big brother)

You and Yaku bond over the fact that you're both the unofficial team moms. The two of you are very organized and have a whole ass check list that you BOTH go over at least twice before the team leaves for a game or training camp

Kai is like your calm in the storm that is Nekoma. The two of you have had numerous conversations about anything from books to cafés and he's always willing to lend an ear if you need to rant

Kenma is a fairly distant person but he warms up to you when he notices how caring you are. He even let's you play his DS on the train rides to and from Nekoma

Inarizaki

You're a brave soul if you are willingly becoming the manager of Inarizaki

Kita is actually the one who asked if you wanted to be the teams manager

He saw you cleaning the board in a classroom during lunch break and was impressed by how well of a job you did

It doesn't matter if you said yes out of fear from Kita's blank stare or because you were genuinely interested bc now you're standing in the volleyball gym, clad in Inarizaki's signature maroon tracksuit

The team notices you instantly, particularly a certain blonde Miya

Before Kita even got a chance to introduce you to everyone, Atsumu had wandered over to you with a lazy smile tugging at his lips

Atsumu introduced himself and then started asking what you were doing here

"Are ya lost?" "Ya here to admire me?" "Ya dating one of the players?"

You didn't get a chance to answer his questions as Osamu lovingly threw a Volleyball at Atsumu, cutting off any moment you had to respond

The only problem was that Atsumu noticed the volleyball rOcketing towards him and scrambled out of the way like a startled cat, leaving the ball to hit you instead of its intended target

The silence that hung over the gym was deafening as the younger team members watched Kita and Aran rush over to assist your now bloody nose

Just as quick as it had started, the silence was broken by Atsumu yelling at his brother for hitting a helpless person in the face and the gym quickly descended into madness

Aran held a towel to your nose and gave you a few encouraging pats on the back as the both of you watched Kita chew out the twins (safe to say Kita was hard on them during practice)

Osamu approached you during a water break to apologize and, to the surprise of the entire team, gave you the extra pudding he had as a peace offering

Since that incident Osamu and Atsumu stopped throwing volleyballs at each other's heads (at least when you were around that is)

The team is also surprisingly protective of you

The glares people get at tournaments if they try to flirt with you are terrifying

You become pretty close with Suna as the both of you tend to sit back and watch Atsumu and Osamu fight (you tried to step in once but they literally only respond to Kita so it didn't do much)

Suna also pats you on the head whenever he passes you

(it's something he does to his little sister to show some form of affection/appreciation and now he does it to you for the very same reasons)

This goes with out saying, but the twins love you

Osamu still feels bad about the whole hitting you in the face thing so he always shares any snacks he's got on him with you

Atsumu truly just likes being babied by you

Any ounce of praise or happy smiles directed at him has him acting like a puppy

(does 'Tsumu have a tiny crush on you? Yep he totally does!)

Kita and Aran are absolute sweethearts!! They are both very grateful for all the work you put in and treat you to boba every other week as a thank you :))

Seijoh

It was a new school year and you decided to push yourself out of your comfort zone a bit

What better way to do that then be a manager for a sports team!

Apparently one of your classmates let it slip that you were looking to be a manager for a sports team because you were approached by a very buff and very attractive guy a few days after asking if you'd be interested in helping the volleyball team

You happily agreed to do a trial day that afternoon, to which the player, who you now know as Iwaizumi-san, breathed a sigh of relief and said he'd pick you up after school to take you to the gym

So the school day is over, Iwaizumi meets you outside your classroom and you're off!

As you walk to the gym he fills you in on some of the tasks the manager would have to do

The job didn't sound that terrible so you were a bit confused as to why Iwaizumi was having such a hard time finding a manager

"Let's just say that the applicants were more interested in staring at our captain than the actual job." He had told you

Ok so first unofficial rule....don't stare at the Seijoh volleyball team's captain? A bit odd but who were you to judge, maybe the guy was shy and didn't like attention

Your thoughts were cut off by the crisp slap! Of a ball hitting the floor followed by a few short yells from the players littered across the court

Your attention was then caught by the sensation of someone draping their arm over your shoulders and a tangy apple smell invading your senses

"Oh? I didn't know you were dating someone, Iwa-chan~"

Iwaizumi shoved the brunette off of you and quickly explained that you were just here to test out being the manager for the day

The player's eyes lit up and he turned to you with a bubbly smile, introducing himself as Seijoh's captain, Oikawa Tooru

Ah, Captain.... Now you knew why they were having trouble finding someone who didn't stare

Your first day went fairly smooth, just a few blunders that were quickly forgotten by the team after Oikawa cheerfully told you: "Everyone has to start somewhere, (y/n)-chan!"

After the first week you had to admit that the Aoba Johsai volleyball team were quickly becoming some of your best friends, you all fit together like a dysfunctional family

Makki, Mattsun, and Iwa would always agree/praise you when you joined in one the daily Oikawa roast session

Oikawa (when he wasn't pouting about how "mean" you are to him) was fairly sweet to you

He spent the first month helping you learn the rules about volleyball and explaining the lingo the team often used during plays

Although, he does jokingly flirt with you about 40 thousand times a week so...

Kindaichi is a nervous wreak around you the first few weeks. Eventually his nervous demeanor melts away. Now he goes to you whenever he needs someone to toss the ball up for him so he can practice his spikes

Kunimi likes you simply because you let him get away with napping during water breaks

Kyotani acts like you annoy him but if anyone made you cry or hurt you in some way he would burn the entire gym down in a heartbeat

Did I mention that Seijoh are also very protective of you?

When at tournaments they travel in a small pack with you in the middle to reduce the chances of you getting hit on

Shiratorizawa

Shiratorizawa is a very nice and prestigious school so you thought why not participate in an extracurricular that would be beneficial for, not only your resume, but you yourself as well!

Out of all the clubs you chose volleyball which you're starting to regret a bit since one of your friends informed you that the team is a powerhouse school

Which means you can't make a bad impression or silly mistakes.....at all

That entire philosophy is thrown oUt the window on your second day as the official manager

You somehow managed to trip over your own feet and slam into a cart full of spare balls AND spill the water bottles you were carrying all over yourself

You were hoping that the team, by some miraculous reason, didn't notice but the stifled giggles from a certain red head said otherwise

You would give anything for the ground to just swallow you up and disappear forever

But then you saw a pair of gym shoes standing in front of you and when you looked up you were met with THE Ushijima Wakatoshi, captain and ace of shiratorizawa, offering you help to stand up

You hadn't seen Ushijima be more than a stoic and intimidating guy so you were even more surprised when he gave one of his spare shirts to change into now that you had spilt water on yourself

I guess you could say your little clumsy episode was what broke the ice for you and the team

Tendou loves talking with you

You're an interesting person to him and he finds great pleasure in teasing you (in his own words it's "out of love")

Ushijima ended up not being as intimidating as you originally pegged him to be. Instead, he was just a quiet guy who surprisingly could say some pretty funny things (whether or not he intended it to be funny)

Goshiki just loves you. Period.

You praise him and give him head pats so he couldn't be happier!

Tendou and Shirabu tease him all the time about how he has a case of puppy love for you (which Goshiki aggRessively denies no matter how red his face is)

Semi is someone who is grateful for your assistance with the team and does his very best to get Tendou out of your hair when you're trying to do your manager work. He also shares his headphones with you on long bus rides so you can listen to music together!

[no-droids]

Ch 17 was so, so, so good (thank you!!) 🥺 i am still processing. ((Edit: this turned into an essay so i Am Very Sorry in advance, there is a tldr at the end though))

First of all. We get to see Din going through it the same way sweet girl was a couple chapters ago and I love it! She’s been so clear from the start that she doesn’t want to run away from him and now Din’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to chase her anymore because he just wants her to be physically there with him again. The second night of comms while she’s camped out at the orphanage?? “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it.” ??????????? i am a Puddle of Emotions no one look at me 😭

And then the way he’s so unsure about whether she hasnt begun to reconsider wanting to keep up with his bounty-hunter life now that she’s finally gotten a break if being forced to outrun a mandalorian can be really even be called a break for the first time in a year?? And he can SEE all the places she’s stopped to talk to people on this planet (his comment about the number of times the blond guy turned around to talk to her in the line? 🥺.) Din knows she’s enjoying these small encounters with people, getting to interact with a new planet and learn new things as she’s making her way through each place, and since they’re only talking at night he gets to think about it literally all day long as he follows her trail and tries to figure out what her plan is. This is truly an exercise in Din thinking nonstop about sweet girl (which ofc he does already, but like, thinking critically about what she thinks/wants/does/needs and why) and I feel like that’s causing him to slowly start to second guess himself in terms of where he would put himself on sweet girl’s list of priorities. And I wonder how much of this he’s actually considering for the first time? because it’s always him who leaves and comes back when he gets jobs — this is the first time that sweet girl has left him instead of the other way around. Sweet girl has had tons of time to think about these things, whereas Din hasn’t really had to... because it’s not the one who leaves who feels the absence most, it’s the one who’s left behind (even if just temporarily).

I can just picture Din’s increasing doubts as the chase keeps going, whether he’s worth putting up with his lifestyle and whether sweet girl wouldn’t rather have a life like the people he sees in the footprints around hers? because he knows her, knows she likes soft beds and meeting people and fresh fruit and beautiful scenery, which are all things that living on the razor crest can’t always provide except for the last one bc Din Djarin IS beautiful scenery let’s be clear and just. the ANGST. I cannot. ( a n d meanwhile sweet girl is having a breakdown thinking he wants to STOP looking and LEAVE her? As if)

So when she shuts down his tentative doubts about it on the second night she’s at the orphanage and Din starts asking questions about favorite animals and flowers and things?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I lost it. Din is mirroring the love and care he receives from sweet girl (and learning to tap into those emotions as he does) and I am just in awe of both his character development from ch 1 to here and your ability to show that gradual shift in your writing.

Tl;dr thank you very much for this latest chapter! I will continue to be a soft emotional little puddle for the foreseeable future, or at least until I can figure out to scrape myself off the floor and function like a human being who has not just read rough day ch 17 and promptly dissolved as a direct result🌻

okay

okay first of all ma’am/sir/friend, please do not put tl;dr’s on a fucking MASTERFUL DISSECTION LIKE THAT like I genuinely hope people read every word of what you have written because you’re so spot on about everything that I was almost taken aback JEJFJJDJFJF

I would like to say, and I need to do this in list form because you have presented so many beautiful points that I’d like to address them one by one,

1.) Din Djarin is used to being alone. Full stop. Like even with sweet girl helping out with the baby and agreeing to stay on the ship while he goes and grabs quarry, he’s gone for weeks sometimes. He is used to being by himself, to fending for himself, protecting himself, patching himself up, EVERYTHING by himself. He is the most independent self-sufficient driven bounty hunter Karga has on the payroll and he’s reliable, which is why Karga would give him four pucks at a time. Giving anyone else four pucks would mean that if they happened to die during their hunts, then more than one puck would be lost and that’s money down the drain. Din doesn’t die, he always comes back with all four bodies and he’s fucking quick about it. Him telling sweet girl “I thought this was gonna be alright” is apt, because he’s been able to exist without her and do good work while he knows she’s safe on the Crest. In fact, the only time he EVER didn’t do good work is when a) she was attacked on the Crest on Corellia, or b) when he desperately wanted to get back to her as quick as possible and he pushed himself too hard and put himself in danger (aka frozen on Hoth scene). And actually c) when he stole Grogu back from the empire and had Karga and the guild on his ass about it. Those were the only times Din had trouble doing his job. The only times he stopped looking and gave up. “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it” means that YES ABSOLUTELY DIN DJARIN DOES NOT LIKE STAYING PUT WHILE SHE LEAVES, even though he’s okay with going out and doing his job when she stays. Even though he’s still hunting, it’s like the roles have been reversed. She’s understanding his side, and he’s understanding her side. It’s been 4 days and he hates it, so imagine weeks or months of that. Not being able to move or chase after her either, just hanging out on the crest with Grogu and waiting to see if she’ll be able to make it back. Which

2.) makes it hurt just a lil more in that wonderful delicious angsty way when he actually asks if she wants this life. On Naboo, he didn’t know where she went or where the kid was—he didn’t know if they were in danger, if she was safe. He said he’d rip the galaxy apart to find her if she ever disappeared like that again. But... she’d be safe on Sanctuary II. This is different, and just like you said, he’s had multiple days where all he did was try to think like her. Get in her head, predict her. Understand her more than he’s ever attempted to do before, in a NECESSARY capacity, like he would a bounty he’s hunting. Din Djarin is used to being alone. He’s used to being silent and that’s how connections are severed before they can even be established. His only practice at empathy was through his job, a job that he is very very good at, but it was never enough to get him to stop looking. He would never be able to empathize enough to ask if the bounty wanted him to stop looking for them. Even with the baby, he turned him in at first and then let the guilt eat him alive before going back to save him. So, if you couple that with his true connection to sweet girl, the natural empathy he has for her and the kid (him immediately following her after he accidentally snapped at her on the Crest and apologizing) and Din is now TRULY beginning to understand her on a level he’s never experienced with another person

3.) BUT!!! Even though he “needed to ask” (meaning he understood enough to know that asking the question was necessary) he started out the entire conversation by admitting he doesn’t think he could do it. Before ever telling her what specifically he doesn’t think he could do, he already knows this about himself and says it flat out. I don’t think I could. Even if you asked me to, even if you said you’d be happier if I did, even if you told me right now that it’s what you wanted, I don’t think I could ever stop looking. And a lot of the turmoil he experiences is because of that. I make you sleep on the floor. I teach you to fight when you just want to look at waterfalls. I do all these things that you’d never willingly do yourself, and I’m a bad person BECAUSE I still want you to always be here with me in spite of all that.

4.) Meanwhile sweet girl just has no fucking clue all this is happening and it seems to come out of nowhere, all she knows is that he’s been in the city when he should’ve caught up to her days ago. She’s out experiencing things and meeting new people and yet she always comes back to Din and the baby and how much they should be here with her. She tries to come up with clever ways to outthink him but she also offers to give her coordinates to him practically every single night. Her wanting to be with him so bad but trying to hold out (“ask me again tomorrow”) while Din is also wanting to be with her so bad and also trying to hold out (“find her again tomorrow”) 🥺

So yeah basically in conclusion I love them together and they’re so different but they make each other somehow both stronger and softer in so many ways and yeah u mighta heard of DD/LG u kinky fucks but lemme present to u DD/SG

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

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

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were to form part of a programme run by the Strategic Science Reserve, a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between teo men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!”  A female voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.”  He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both who was clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck! Steve swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” A man further down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and trousers as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders, hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” He nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits.  “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” He paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers. And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was five days away! Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure,” he continued, “an experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts,” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

***** Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He trudged down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark.”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” She shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.

“What’s with the Ma’am?” She frowned but Steve ignored her question. Her frown deepened and she cocked her head to one side. “Wait, are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh. “Steve, I…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on, Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms. “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned. “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” She let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” He stopped dead.

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do?”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” She looked at him. “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite. “That was rude. I guess, well, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” Feeling emboldened Steve asked hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder. “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion. “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him. “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid. “And I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” He snorted. “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her. “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged which means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around.

He felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

***** Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning,  Steve had done five different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination.  He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!”

Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged ten or fifteen yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!”  Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally, Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years!” He shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking over towards the group of men.  She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” He yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him, “get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” Someone spoke as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” He asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, once again patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers,” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him, “with me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head. “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” The surprise was evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices. “So that’s why you were there that day.”

Katie grinned. “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark.” He greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office.  She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior. “At ease, Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days, Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.”

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged. “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug. “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over fourteen hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says,” Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “there’s little to no time for contemplation.”

“There’s fourteen hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke. “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers? Because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like five days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we, well, who we convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want, within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled. “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” She asked him as they left the building. “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up. “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him. “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

 *****

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw for a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last ten minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’,” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point, “he says, ‘you will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, frowning slightly, “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled. “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered. “No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” He reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself. “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning, Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk, “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” She looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” He repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.”

Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just, well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” He asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic.” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh. “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed. “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez!” He snorted shaking his head as she laughed. “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose. “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment. “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’!” She mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head. “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him. “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging. “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically, who I am kinda got me through the door.” Katie shrugged, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued. “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent Thirteen was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged. “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status, and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.”  With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said,” she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward, Steve?” She asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve,” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” He took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat.

As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as surprise but he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” She asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” He swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” He licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his. “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact.  Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Katie, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop,” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements, he became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin. Katie moaned brokenly and his mouth continued pressing kisses to the spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping  to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow,” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same, “you got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I. Well, not to that extent anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” She asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

**** Chapter 3

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers @southerngracela​ and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ 

Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist 

 At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were part of the Strategic Science Reserve, this was a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between 2 men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!”  A voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.”  He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck… he swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” a man down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and skirt as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders,  hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” he nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits.  “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” he paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers…”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was…5 days away!

“And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure.” He continued “An experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts…” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He headed down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark…”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” she shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am” he dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.”

“What’s with the Ma’am?” she frowned but Steve ignored her question. She frowned a little, cocking her head to one side “Are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh “Steve, look…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” she let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” he stopped dead.  

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” He spoke quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do.”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” she looked at him “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite “I guess it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” feeling emboldened he asked his question hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid “I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” he snorted “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged but that means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around. God he felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning,  Steve had done 5 different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination.  He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!” The drill Sergeant barked. Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged 10 or 15 yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!”  Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years!” he shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking in his direction. She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” he yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him “Get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” someone said as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” he asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers…” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him. “With me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations Steve… you’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the SSR lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” the surprise evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices “So that’s why you were there.”

Katie grinned “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark” he greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office.  She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior “At ease Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over 14 hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says…”  Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “There’s no time for contemplation.”

“There’s 14 hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers, because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like 5 days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we…convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” she asked him as they left the building “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last 10 minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point “He says, ‘You will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks.” Steve said, frowning slightly “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered.

“No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” he reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk. “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” she looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” he repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.” Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just…well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” he asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez…” he snorted shaking his head as she laughed “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’” she mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically who I am kinda got me through the door.” She said, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent 13 was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status…and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.”  With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “Dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward Steve?” she asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve.” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” he took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat. As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” she asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” he swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” he licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact.  Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Doll, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay…” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop…” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements be became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin as he spoke into her ear. “Katie, I’m close.” He breathed out “You almost there? Tell me your close Doll, please?”

He needn’t have worried, at his words Katie moaned brokenly and nodded and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping  to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow…” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same. “You got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” she asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

[sanchosammy]

It wasn’t a mistake.

Description: You and Frankie have been best friends for years, which is why you’re shocked to wake up in his bed after a night of drinking together. Too scared he’ll push you away after this, you push him out first. Too bad the two of you are forced to deal with your feelings on a camping trip with the guys.

Warnings: Cursing, talks of sex, drinking, I think that’s all?

NOTE: This isn’t my best work, I am not going to lie. but it is a fun read if you’re interested. Enjoy babes!

Word Count: 5,038.

“Fuck,” You moaned out. The pain from your splitting headache made for a rude awakening from your slumber. A familiar smell of cologne surrounded you as you breathed in, and a coolness lingered over your exposed skin causing you to stir further.

Your eyes slowly lifted open as you looked around your surroundings. Frankie’s bedroom... 

Oh God, Frankie’s bedroom. You noticed his arm loosely hugging your waist as he slept. The alcohol filled memories started to flood your brain and the night came back to you.

You found out about your promotion yesterday, which was kind of a big deal to you. It was something you worked your ass off for and to be recognized with a raise was everything you wanted. The boys wanted to celebrate with you truly, but it all fell through. Everyone had something come up last minute.

It wasn’t something taken personally by you, you didn’t know about the promotion until the last minute yourself. However, that did not stop Francisco Morales from wanting to celebrate this moment with you. The two of you were the closest out of everyone, a friendship that was filled with so many stupid stories and wonderful memories.

With the pictures to prove it.

Frankie was there no matter the situation. The man simply had balance to him, he would be there when you needed some to wrap their arms around you for comfort but he would also spend his weekend helping you with house projects. He does it all. The problem was he was too good of a man. Which left you madly in love with him. It started off throughout your time in the army together. You had only grown closer as time went on. Him and you spending more time together than anyone else within the last three years. 

You thought over the night before to remember how you found yourself in Frankie’s bed. The two of you had never even kissed before, how did it escalate into sex so fast? 

You carefully sat up trying not to disturb Frankie’s sleeping figure. The side of his face was pushed against his pillow as his arm hung around you. He looked so peaceful when he slept. A small smile formed as you noticed his bedhead, you loved his shaggy hair.

You looked around the room as you once again thought over the memories. Frankie wanted to celebrate the promotion no matter how much you told him it wasn’t a big deal. He knew you wanted to acknowledge your hard work deep down so he pushed on anyway. It started off with a small cheers with a couple of beers, and that turned into full blown drinking after Frankie decided to teach you an old drinking game he played as a teenager.

Truthfully, it was a simple game. You needed a shot glass and a bottle cap. The both of you had to take turns attempting to get the bottle cap into the shot glass from a distance, and if you missed then you had to drink. And if one of you actually managed to get the cap into the glass, the other person had to chug their drink.

The both of you knew you were too old to be drinking like this, but the game became a friendly competition between the two of you. The small example round turning into a full blown game and after a while the both of you were equally fucked up.

You don’t know why the mood shifted. At some point Frankie’s touch seemed to light a fire on your skin, and he must’ve felt it too because he was the first one to lean in for the kiss. Which somehow turned into the two of you having sex in his bedroom. You could remember it and you knew Frankie would too. The both of you knew how to handle your alcohol, but the judgement of sleeping with your best friend seemed to slip away with a little help from liquid courage.

Your cheeks burned at the details flashing through your mind. You had fantasized about the idea of sleeping with Frankie countless times, seeming you’ve been in love with him so long, but the real thing was so much better than you could’ve expected. He was focused on you the entire time and dammit… Francisco was a giving lover. 

The picture of him between your legs was now burned in your mind. A shame lingered behind though. You slept with your best friend. How could you do something so stupid? You managed to not openly flirt with the man for over several years and it all came crashing down after the both of you knocked back a few drinks? 

The realization of how this changed everything creeped in. The two of you probably wouldn’t be the same after this. From the silence of the house you could hear your heart shatter if you listened hard enough. All of your time together stripped away from you within a night. 

Your eyes burned at the sudden presence of hot tears. You just wanted to leave at this point, it was overwhelming. How could something feel so right, and somehow end up being so wrong? 

You shifted from the bed removing his arm as gentle as you could. Finding your clothes scattered on the floor and you hurriedly put them on. You were for sure a little hungover, but you’d have to pick something up on the way home because you didn’t have the balls to face him and have the ‘This was a mistake’ talk. You just couldn’t, it would absolutely crush you.

You closed his door and made sure to lock it behind you. The sun was too bright today as you forced yourself into the car faster than usual. The light from the sky and your sudden sky rocket of emotion causing the headache to feel so much worse.

As you backed out of his driveway, you found tears streaming down your face silently. You weren’t one to just burst into tears but this felt like a death suddenly. A death in friendship and a passing of the best part of your life so far. You looked at his house once more before pulling off and heading home.

+

The phone beeped again. You looked at it across the room before turning the TV louder. At this point you simply ignored your phone at all costs. It had been a week since you last saw Frankie, and to be honest you’ve been purposefully ignoring the man. When he did finally wake up after you left, there was no hesitation on his end to call you but you didn’t answer. And then there were several texts throughout the week. 

You tried not to read them. A few you happened to catch a glimpse of because out of a sickened curiosity you wondered if he hated you after what happened. The few that you caught said ‘(Y/N), call me please.’, ‘Can we talk about what happened?’, ‘Please talk to me.’. 

In your mind, all Frankie wanted to talk about was how this wouldn’t happen again. That it was a mistake, or maybe that drunken mistakes happen and he didn’t see you in that way. No matter what he had to say, it was somehow going to hurt you and you couldn’t bring yourself to face it. You were brave in the direct aim of live bullets shooting straight at you on operations, and somehow you found yourself being such a coward at the idea of emotional pain.

The phone rang out again and you found yourself annoyed at this point. Not at the fact Frankie was attempting to reach you all week, but that you were being forced to face emotional baggage of your failed love life. You pulled yourself off the couch and snatched the phone off the counter to silence it, that was until you saw the caller ID. 

You swiped to accept and put the phone to your ear. A part of you was nervous Frankie had told him, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t kiss and tell, or so you hoped so. 

“Hey Santiago!” 

“Hey, where you been cariño? You’re usually blowing up my phone more.” He teased you, but he was serious somewhat about the question.

You talked to all of the guys throughout your week, some more than others but that was kind of your thing nonetheless. All of you left the army with a brotherhood, and though they weren’t saps about it. Those boys were emotionally attached to you, and somewhat even adored you.

You sighed out a huff pulling some excuse out your ass about work and the promotion. He brushed the topic forward to what he really called for, “This isn’t going to be a problem for the trip, right?

You paused in your spot as you reviewed his words in your mind… Fuck, the camping trip. Your silence wasn’t the answer Pope wanted to hear. 

All of you planned out this camping trip so everyone could meet up somewhere that wasn’t a bar. It was some idea you had thrown out carelessly one night, and you were actually excited when everyone came around to the idea pretty fast. Even old grumpy ass Tom was willing to join in after a little persuading of drinking beers in the woods away from all his stress and worries. Needless to say, that sold him pretty easy.

However, this was before you drunkenly hooked up with your best friend. You ignored Frankie all week and the trip was in less than three days. You couldn’t possibly face him for several days in the literal woods without any escape from your embarrassment. No, absolutely not.

“I don’t think I can, Santi… I’m going to be pretty piled up with work now.” You lied. You felt awful doing so, but you lied your ass off.

“Listen, you’re not getting out of this trip unless you’re dead or kidnapped.” Yeah, that sounded like Santiago. You tried to cut in with a but before he continued, he brushed off your plea to escape this. “You’re not cancelling on us, (Y/L/N). I don’t care if I have to pull you out of bed Saturday morning, you’re coming with us.”

Fuck me. You have to be kidding me. You internally groaned.  “Alright, alright! No need to threaten me, sheesh. I’ll be ready.”

In much Santiago style, he teased you with a “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” which pulled a chuckle out of you in response as you rolled your eyes.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The home screen goes back to reveal the five missed text messages and two missed calls from Frankie from this week. You guiltily put your phone back down to once again pretend you didn’t see the unopened messages from him.

You had no idea how you were going to get through this trip without wanting to throw yourself off a cliff. This was about to be torture.

+

You pulled into Frankie’s driveway noticing several men gathered around a van, all of them filled with laughter about something. All of you pitched in to rent a travel van instead of driving two separate cars. Unsure on who decided that bright idea because six of you in a van sounded like possibly the best and worst experience all in one.

The group turned towards you as you shut the car door behind you. “Finally, the pretty one has arrived.” You chirped in as a joke. Will replied before anyone else had a chance to, “Oh please, you know that’s Pope’s title.”

You would’ve smacked him on the arm jokingly, but Will picked you up in a bear hug before you could. You hadn’t seen him in nearly two months, and so the hug was extra special this time. You laughed in his tight hold before he released you back on your feet.  You made sure to hug the rest of the guys as you always did.

The comfort of their hugs is something money couldn’t buy.. After you hugged Tom you noticed Frankie wasn’t around. As awful as it sounded, a part of you hoped he would cancel out on the trip because of the awkwardness between the both of you.

“Catfish is inside, he’ll be out in a second.” Will commented as he noticed your wandering eyes. You just nodded before going back to your car to pull out the cooler. Benny followed behind to help without being asked. 

You purchased half of the food for the trip. Everyone had agreed to pitch money in for different parts of the trip. Food, supplies, gas, and so forth. You pulled your backpack from the backseat before locking the doors, fully ready to start your little adventure.

“Hey,” Frankie’s voice came from behind you causing you to jump. You turned to look at him before mumbling a quiet hey back. You noticed how he looked at you in a way that seemed like he was studying your face rather than simply looking at it. His brown eyes scanning over your features.

You knew he wanted to say something about your disappearance the past week. You could see it on his face. He was fully ready to confront the situation, and he would’ve if your mutual friends weren’t standing behind him.

You looked at each other silently for a moment. Frankie was looking at you like a kicked animal, and he felt like one too. The emotional and physical distance you placed confused and hurt him more than you knew.

You shifted your stare past him to break the uncomfortable eye contact only to find Santiago watching the moment unfold. You pushed past Frankie without a word before heading to the van.

Normally, in any situation, you had unspoken rights to sit beside Frankie. It was just an unofficial rule that everyone naturally followed by now, and that’s probably why Tom and Santiago stared at you suspiciously as you crammed yourself in the back seat with Will instead.

The hurt in Frankie’s face wasn’t something you were blind to. He sat down with a huff coming from his chest as he found a spot in front of you beside Ben. The whole situation was becoming ridiculous and you knew that, but you couldn’t find the strength to talk it out with him. You found it so much easier to avoid the situation completely as selfish as it was.

Will wrapped his arm around you and snickered, “Looks like I stole your girl, fish.”

You cringed in response to his words. Frankie crossed his arms as he adjusted in his seat. If someone didn’t know Frankie well, it seemed like he just ignored the statement completely. A joke that he didn’t find funny possibly. However, you could read his body language. His shoulders remained tight as they often did when he was stressed out.

You wanted to shrink under the vision of Tom who looked at you from the sun visor mirror. It was only a small moment of eye contact before he lifted the visor back up. This was going to be a long three days… 

+

The rest of the car ride wasn’t terrible. The conversation moved to different topics like Benny’s upcoming fight, which you promised to go to. Sunset was already in motion once you arrived at the location and so the six of you carried stuff down the trail as a team.  It kind of reminded you of the past and it was a little heart warming of a thought.

You all agreed on a spot that was far out from the other campers. It could have been the bitterness of a grumpy old man but none of you wanted to deal with people on this trip. It was meant to be total isolation with friends.

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” You asked as you picked up the box. A tent labeled for four to six people. No, he did not. “Will, you seriously expect everyone to sleep in the same tent for three days?”

All eyes shifted to Will. Tom letting out a dramatic huff with a ‘isn’t that fucking great.’ and everyone else let out some sort of complaint at the thought of being squished together for several days.

“What?” Will shrugged as he pulled the box from your hands. He walked back over to where the tent was supposed to go  soon as he snickered out. “You guys scared I’m gonna cuddle you or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m more scared you’ll get the wrong idea. I don’t think you’re our type, sorry Ironhead.”

The joke earned a few chuckles from the rest of the guys. Will hardly looked over at you as he replied, his focus remained too busy on pulling out the tent materials. “Apparently nobody’s your type. I mean, seriously, when was the last time we’ve seen Ghost date somebody?”

Your face felt warm from embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong though, it had been nearly two years since you’ve been on an actual date. Tom chuckled as he looked up from the little travel grill he was setting up for dinner “He’s got you there. You batting for the other team or something, (Y/N)?”

Everyone pretended to continue their tasks but you could feel their attention on you. You handed him the supplies for dinner as you mumbled out, clearly unhappy by the question “No, I just… haven’t found someone is all.”  

A certain pair of eyes were burning in the back of your head. A pain in Frankie’s heart as he heard the words. It was not only a confirmation that you regretted the week before, but that you weren’t interested in him at all. He wanted to go home already, this was a stupid idea.

There was a weird shift in the air before Will returned to the original topic at hand. “There’s another tent over there. Walmart only had two left in the camping section,” 

And sure enough there was. The second tent was much smaller and by the time you helped finish setting them both up, you realized one of them would only fit two people inside. You fell back into the chair looking at the work you accomplished in the thirty minutes. 

“So, who is sleeping in the peasant tent?” You joked.

“You and Frankie.” Santi commented casually as he helped Tom. The both of them focused on the burger’s he attempted to cook on the small travel grill. Frankie watched you to see your reaction.

“What? Why us?” You mumbled popping the top off your beer. 

Santi continued “Why not? The two of you have already shared a bed before at the rental house. That is unless you’re trying to sneak me into your tent, (Y/N).” He winked before looking back at the food. He flirted mindlessly but it was never serious with Pope, he saw you as a sister at the end of the day.

 “Frankie it is then.” You laughed but inside you wanted to die. You had to sleep next to Frankie for three nights after the awkward tension of sleeping together. What did you do so wrong in the world, you wondered.

Time had passed by pretty quick. Everyone was full from dinner and sitting around the fire with a beer. You found yourself next to Will once again. At this point it was simply to avoid putting your chair next to Frankie to put some distance between the two of you. 

Benny was talking about some girl he was seeing for the last two months. “Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s going to work out.” He sipped his beer as he stared into the fire.

“What, why?” You asked.

“I think she’s more into the idea of hooking up more than anything.” He shrugged. 

You hummed in acknowledgment before Tom chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about having sex with someone.”

“Leave him alone, Benny is a teddy bear. He needs a little more care with his lovin’” You mumbled with a teasing smile as you pulled your jacket tighter around you. Benny let out a small ‘whatever’ while laughing, not caring to explain himself further.

“Hey Fish, whatever happened to that girl you were seeing?” Tom looked over at him and everyone followed the action to watch Frankie now.

He looked a little surprised at the sudden attention. When the conversation wasn’t on him, he liked to sit back and listen in silence for the most part. He tended to be a quiet person like that, not wanting to put forth too much.

He shook his head as he looked back down at the fire. His words coming out nonchalant and not interested in the topic, “Tina? That was over two years ago.” 

“No, not that one.” Tom said without much thought. Frankie stiffened as the realization washed over him. He never thought the situation would be brought to light. Tom continued on, “That one hookup a couple of months ago. You two didn’t have anything going on?”

Frankie found himself frozen under your sudden stare on him. His eyes caught yours, and he wanted to die in his seat.

It was a mindless one night stand… That happened twice, funny enough. It was the one thing he never mentioned to you in fear it would ruin his future chance. The whole thing happened seven months ago. Someone close to him passed suddenly and he wanted to forget it for a moment, and a woman he knew from high school happened to be in the bar two weekends in a row. 

“You never told me about that.” You tried to sound uninterested, but the look in your eyes spoke loudly. 

He cleared his throat. The ability to say anything helpful in this situation left him, and he just looked at the bottle in his hand. “It was a mistake anyway.” He said before pressing his lips to the top of the bottle and swallowing a mouthful.

You didn’t know why you were this upset. You sat miserable watching Frankie avoid your stare. 

Your jaw tight from anger building up inside. Not only were you hurt by him keeping secrets, but that wasn’t the part that hurt the most. Jealousy had washed over like some sort of fire. A painful and filled with an unstoppable burning inside. 

“Whatever, I’m going to go piss.” You muttered under your breath as you walked away from the men. You just wanted to be alone and away from him.

Santi shook his head as he stood up from his chair, “You’ve really done it now, Fish.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Frankie muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned into his chair hoping to sink into the ground.

Santiago ignored him as he followed you into the woods. He knew this was just some lame excuse to walk away from the situation. If sexual tension was ever in the air, the first person to find it would be Pope. He knew what was going on with the two of you, he figured it out after spending the day watching the both of you interact.

“So, when did you and Frankie sleep together?” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice. Santi matched with your now slowing steps as the both of you stopped completely. Far enough out of view from the boys. You recovered from the small scare before rolling your eyes, “What are you talking about Pope?” 

He chuckled with a small smirk on his face. The moon was the only reason you could see his face considering you forgot your flashlight in your hurry. “Oh, come on. You don’t think I know?”

You considered not answering because you didn’t want to admit out loud. The situation is humiliating enough already. A small sigh left your lips before you nodded in confirmation, your tone sounding defeated. “Alright, yeah. We slept together last week, but we were pretty drunk… It was a mistake.”

“I don’t think it was.” Pope commented as he found a tree to lean against. He watched you for a moment before continuing. “I know this isn’t my place to say this, but… Somebody needs to because Frankie won’t grow a pair. You know the real reason him and Tina broke up?”

You shrugged, “Something about not liking me around.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that was a part of it.” You watched as he chewed on his lip for a moment. He wasn’t nervous by any means, but deep in thought about what he was about to reveal. “They were in some argument one night, she asked him if he loved you… And he couldn’t say no.”

“What?” You were left stunned. Your mouth felt dry as you processed the information. 

Santi walked over laying a hand on your shoulder, “I’m telling you, (Y/N). It wasn’t a mistake.” He patted your shoulder as he walked past you and continued back to the campsite.

The talk was short and sweet, but it left you more confused than before. Did Frankie actually love you? He mentioned she didn’t like you in the past, but you didn’t know that was the reason. What if Frankie really stayed single this long because he was trying to find a chance with you?

You walked back in silence to the spot you came from. Frankie focusing on you as you walked into view before sitting down again. Nobody mentioned the situation with Santi, or how long you had been gone. It wasn’t worth ruining the conversation over. 

You found yourself leaning on Will’s shoulder sleepily. The chatter of friends filling your ears as you sat there quietly. You didn’t know if it was the emotions draining you or the day of travel. The longer the night went on you found yourself more and more tired.

You closed your eyes to rest them. It was supposed to be a second, but it must’ve been much longer because you opened them again and you were safely in the tent now.  You could tell Frankie was in the tent, his body as far away from you as possible as he slept. When did you fall asleep? When did everyone call it a night? You wondered silently.

You shivered in the drop of temperature. You didn’t think it would be this cold tonight, the weather throughout the day was so warm on your skin and now you had goosebumps. 

“Are you cold?” Frankie’s quiet voice scared you. He shifted from his side onto his back as he looked over at you.

“Shit, you scared me.” You let out a quiet laugh before clearing your throat awkwardly, your voice thick with sleep. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

He paid no attention to your comment as he moved his extra blanket on you instead. You attempted to make out his features as he moved to lay back down in his spot away from you, the darkness of the tent made it impossible though. A moment passed as you listened to the sound of his quiet breathing.

You swallowed hard trying to settle your nerves before speaking up in a whisper. “I’m sorry by the way.”

“For what?” He asked, turning his face towards yours. He wished he could see your beautiful face.

“Everything… I shouldn’t have avoided you, you know?” 

He heard you, but he didn’t reply. The soft sound of crickets outside filled your ears instead. You decided to continue even if it wasn’t the ideal location to do so. “Do you regret sleeping with me?” 

“No…” His voice croaked from whispering. He cleared his throat after a bit before asking “Do you?”

“No,” You admit and although you couldn’t see it, a small smile formed on his face. A chance of hope flashing through his eyes. 

“Can I tell you something?” You breathed out.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Frankie stiffened when he felt your hand brush against his. When he realized you were reaching out to hold it, his fingers automatically linked between yours and he squeezed your hand softly.

“Don’t laugh at me, okay?” Your voice broke with emotion before you let out a breathy chuckle. His thumb subconsciously began to stroke your hand in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the first time we went on a helicopter ride.”

He stopped to recall the memory. Both of you were still in the army together when Frankie wanted to take you on your first flight. You were so nervous in the beginning, he had spent half the flight talking to keep you distracted. “That was over five years ago.” Frankie commented, the shock was noticeable in his voice. 

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed.

Frankie moved closer to you. His movements slow and careful in case you asked him to stop. He was leaning above you now, you didn’t realize how close he was until you could feel the warmth of his breath. Your fingers moved to run through his hair similar to the way they did the night you slept together. He was hesitant to move in as if he wasn’t sure if he should kiss you, so you leaned in pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was slow and drawn out this time as if Frankie was soaking in the moment. Unlike the night before when the two of you were nearly falling over each other. He pulled away pressing his forehead against yours “I’ve known since the time you made me a cake for my birthday.”

“Frankie, that was our first year in the Army?” 

He chuckles as he pecks your lips, repeating the same line you used, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why did we wait this long?” You asked out loud. Your arms wrapped around him before he pulled you down to lay on his chest instead. His body heat warming you up within seconds.

He shook his head. He should’ve done this so long ago. A smile settled on his face as the realization settled in he finally got his girl.

[burnedbyshoto]

Awaken

Kinktober Day 4 ~ kink: bondage, praise

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cursing

word count: 4,707

a/n: happy two month anniversary lovelies!!!!! we been here a full ass 60 days OMGGG well, have some shouto smut because we all know I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!! anyways sorry for yet another late upload, I got into a deep conversation with my roomie when I wasnt yet done with this

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Todoroki Shouto was an intriguing man.

When you first met him five years ago, in high school, you would have never thought you were going to be friends. He was rather cold, aloof, and sometimes rude. No amount of attractiveness could make that up to you, so you were hardly what you would consider friends.

Even after Shouto seemed to begin to overcome some of his demons. You were turned off by the idea of being his friend that you spent the rest of the first semester uncaring. You had no opinions for the powerful boy.

It wasn’t until he apologized to you during the summer training camp. An apology that caught you off guard, did you finally think you could become friends.

You two were fast friends at that too! Shouto and you had your own respective friend groups in your first year. But two times a week the two of you would eat lunch together.

So it went. The next two years of U.A. were incredible, the two of you helping each other out with areas of weakness. The areas you lacked in, Shouto excelled in, and vice versa. So it was no wonder the two of you were always paired up to spar.

It wasn’t until the third year when you sat with your entire class around you, did something happen. You and Shouto were having your own conversation outside of the one the class was having. Your hands shoving a grinning Shouto whenever he said something annoying.

“You guys are fucking disgusting,” Bakugou’s irritated voice snapped at the two of you during a moment of silence. Everyone was staring at the two of you, and Shouto and you were nonetheless wiser to it. “We’re trying to fucking eat here, could you for one damn minute stop fucking flirting?!”

Your cheeks flushed red.

Shouto stilled next to you.

Your eyes flashed over to Mina and Hagakure who were gaping. The girls were your closest friends here. You knew that those two, in particular, liked Shouto still. Which was why you never made a move, why you denied your feelings for Shouto for two years now.

“Oh my god, Kacchan!” Midoriya’s snickering voice sent everyone’s attention to the green-haired boy. He was sitting next to Bakugou. “No one says anything when you flirt with—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP SHIT-KU!” Bakugou raged sending the conversation into a whole new tangent.

You and Shouto, however, stayed silent next to each other. Refusing to look at one another.

At the end of the day, you packed your bags, talking with Mina who was waiting for you to walk back to the dorms. You pulled on your jacket and said your goodbyes to the last lingering classmates in the room. It was, for the most part, the old Dekusquad as they had been playing a card game. Because they didn’t want it to be with the entire class, they stayed in the classroom.

You enjoyed finishing your homework in the classroom. So Mina would stay here with you as she would hang out with Uraraka and Tsu in the meantime.

You and Mina chatted about today’s lessons, as most conversations went. Mina was not that confident in her understanding of things. It wasn’t to say she was stupid. In fact, if you excluded Momo who was, in fact, a genius. The difference between the two spots in class and Mina’s spot was a total of six wrong questions. Yes, everyone had dramatically improved over the years.

“You know, y/n-chan,” Mina said clasping her hands together. “If you like Todoroki-kun, you should go for it!”

You snap your head to the pink girl who was grinning at you, a knowing look on her face. “Mina, but you—“

“Nuh-uh, girl, we all see how the two of you act with each other. It’s disgusting and super cute!” Mina sighs, the romantic in her shining right now. “Toru-chan and I are in love with his face and body! That’s all! Have you ever seen us have an actual conversation with him?”

“Well, that’s because you two, even three years later, drool when he talks to you instead of responding back!” You laugh, trying to mask your discomfort. Shouto couldn’t like you, you knew that he liked someone in the class, and you figure it was Momo. Of course, it was the worst girl to have a crush on, but you understood why he would! Momo was amazing but super gay.

“Even if you never existed, if you never came to U.A., it wouldn’t have changed anything!” Mina insisted, her hands squishing your cheeks between her hands as she stared at you. The two of you stopped moving as your face flushed embarrassed looking down at the ground. “If you like Todoroki-kun, go for it!”

“Mina, he doesn’t even like me though!” You say with a sad smile, but Mina laughs so hard your eyes widen as she sinks to the ground in tears. “Mina!”

“Girl, you’re literally the only person in the entire world who calls him ‘Shouto-kun,’ and he likes it!” Mina gasps as she lies on the floor, a loopy grin on her face. “Hop on that dick, please!”

“Y/n-chan,” Shouto’s voice is distant. You shriek feeling as if you had gotten caught doing something dangerous. Mina gets off the floor and throws her arm around you as the two of you await Shouto.

Your eyes stare at Shouto who looks like he ran the entire time to catch up with you. His shirt partially untucked, his tie loose, and without his jacket, he stares at the two of you. Your hands trying to hide your burning cheeks.

“Could I take y/n from you, for a bit Ashido?” Shouto asks turning his attention to Mina who nodded.

“Remember, Todoroki-kun, y/n loves caramel chocolates!” Mina says with a nod before she grins, laughing and running away as you begin to squeak in embarrassment.

You reluctantly return your attention to Shouto who stares at you. His eyes swimming in confusion.

“You look disgusting, where’s the proper Shouto I know?” You say, not wanting to look at Shouto instead tugging at his untucked shirt. Your fingers tightening his tie as he goes to tuck in his shirt.

Shouto never stops looking at you, his lips pursed as you finally reach his gaze. “I need to tell you something.” He begins, and your stomach flips and flops. “Well, I should’ve done it earlier, but I just didn’t.”

You can’t deny that your heart begins to pound as he reaches his hand into his pocket, and your breathing stops. What in the actual fuck was he—?

“Your eraser, you forgot it,” Shouto says placing your white eraser into the palm of your hand and you freeze. Your soul freezing up and cracking into a million pieces as you take it with a quick nod.

“Oh… I could’ve just gotten it back tomorrow, Shouto-kun!” You squeak snatching the eraser from his hands and shift your backpack so you can throw it in. Your cheeks burn as you bow in thanks, turning on your heel so that you could run to Mina and start crying.

Before you could get that far away, his hands clenched on your wrist and pull you back in. You stumble into his chest, your hands pressed flat against his chest.

You feel a hammering heartbeat, but you’re too afraid to ask if it’s his or yours. “I like you,” Shouto admits, and you snap your head up towards his, your cheeks burning red.

“I… you… oh my god…” You feel faint as you attempt to understand, your head spinning as he’s intoxicatingly too close. His body burning and freezing you. His fresh detergent smell overwhelming your person.

Ever so the reactionary person, you can’t conjure the words to reciprocate his feelings. So instead, you lean up to press your lips clumsily against his own. It’s short, soft, and sweet.

Blushes exploding over both your faces as you nod, “I’ll see you later?” You ask, your voice pitching.

“Yes, tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

His lips are back on yours and you can only think of throwing your arms around his neck. You kiss him with enough passion to make Shouto pull away prematurely.

Both your cheeks are blazing hot and without saying much, the two of you walk away from each other. Both of you unaware of the screaming onlookers of your classmates. All who had been trying to get the two of you to confess for a solid year now.

That was two years ago.

Now at twenty years old, you stared at your boyfriend who was eating his bowl of rice and salmon. His eyes concentrated on the food as you pushed yours around distracted.

You loved Shouto, truly you did. But your sex life was a means… of a mockery.

To put it in simpler terms, making out was much more exciting than fucking, and it made no sense to you. You could be grinding away on his lap. His hands roaming your figure as another simple kiss turned into a make-out session. You were on your shared bed, clothes stripped off, and you sunk into his dick. Like clockwork, he froze up.

All passion and intensity went and Shouto stared up at you with lit eyes as you would attempt to get the two of you off.

Even when he came, he was quiet, his eyes fluttering shut as he would fight the loudness of his orgasm. Panting as you felt nowhere near done, at first it was okay. But given it was nearing a year since the first time the two of you had sex for the first time, you were sick of it.

You loved being on top, you enjoyed it so much! But Shouto took it in a way that he was unresponsive and just sort of laid there. You were twenty and wanted to get dicked down so good by your insanely hot and amazing boyfriend.

So with regrets and no regrets, you asked the girls for help. They all seemed to be having a better sex life than you were anyways.

The six of you boiled it down to doing two things to get Shouto to snap out of this shell he sunk himself into.

Bondage and praise.

You had to admit, the first few times having sex was extremely awkward, so you never praised him. But in a non-sexual environment, Shouto loved praise. Hell, he had hugged you for twenty minutes after you praised him for his meal cooking.

You had no idea how things were going to go tonight, but you had made a plan and you prayed something was going to work.

You stood up from the kitchen table and went over to Shouto and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.” You promise as you walk over to your bedroom.

You got onto your hands and knees as you reached underneath your bed and you dragged out a box. Opening it, you smile seeing what you were going to need for the night. You let out a shaky breath as you put it back under the bed.

Shouto and you had vanilla sex, you knew that. It seemed that in order to break him, you would have to crank it up from vanilla to kinky in one go.

You returned to the kitchen as Shouto was staring at his phone. “Midoriya and Iida want to go to a store later tonight,” Shouto informs you as you draped over his shoulder. Your chin perched onto the crook of his neck. “Do you want to come with me?”

“That sounds like a bro date.” You admit as the corners of your mouth brush against his sensitive skin. You delight at the goosebumps that flash against his skin, and the shiver that goes down his spine. “Isn’t it for his wedding suit?”

“It’s the final fitting,” Shouto nods as his hand grasps yours and he places a gentle kiss to it. “Do you want to come with us? I’ll be leaving in an hour, and it shouldn’t take long.”

You smirk, well it seems you only had an hour to get what you wanted. You two were Pro-Heroes, you always performed better on a time limit. “No, you should enjoy the time with your friends!” You finally say and Shouto sighs.

“They’re your friends, too!”

“Well, I’m not sitting on his side during the ceremony.” You tease as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. “But since you have an hour, wanna make out?”

You say this as easily as you can, hoping to catch him off guard. But it seems that Shouto was expecting that question as he shrugs, “I guess that would be okay.” He teases and you snort as you are quick to straddle his hips despite him still eating.

Your eyebrow quirks to match his own as Shouto drops his chopsticks to hold your waist. “I love you, Shouto.” You say as you run your fingers through his hair, your eyes kind as you stare at his handsome face. His eyes were light as they stare at you, love and joy reflecting as your thumb traces his scar burn. Something that never truly embarrassed him. Something that never failed to remind him of why he was a hero, and something that he loved wholly because of you.

His eyes flutter closed as you press warm kisses against the heated flesh. A content hum escaping his mouth as you do so.

You pepper kisses around his face, placing one on his forehead, temples, cheeks, noses, eyelids, chin, jaw, and finally, you press one onto his mouth. His mouth doesn’t hesitate to press against yours, his lips never losing contact with yours.

Your hands hold his face to yours as your head tilts to the right. His nose pressing softly against your cheek as his hands grip your hips. You smirk as you roll your hips, your weight shifting so that you’re now on top of his dick. Shouto reacts the way you hoped he would, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to lay on your skin. His calloused fingers tracing shapes onto your skin.

You break away from him, Shouto trying to follow your mouth. Your heart is hammering as you’re almost embarrassed to say what you need to say. Your lips pressing against his ear. “I love when you touch my skin like that, it makes me feel so good.”

You make those words feel as alluring as you can. Despite the embarrassment that fills you from those words. Shouto stills completely underneath you, and you’re unsure if you broke him in a good way or a bad way. You return your lips onto him, hoping that you could move on.

His hips twitch from under you, and you can feel his arousal.

Oh… he did like that.

It’s more minutes of making out, your hips continuing to roll on top of his. Shouto’s pants filling the air as you were merciless in your teasing. Shouto grumbles as he pulls away, his mouth on your neck. Sucking and biting his way down your neck. You moan at the feeling, your heart hammering as you cry his name. “Yes Shouto, keep biting me like that, oh god yes, I love it so much!” You praise and Shouto curses into your neck. “Keep going, Shouto, you’re doing so well.”

As if willed by Kami herself, Shouto yanks you closer to him. His hips bucking against your ass as his mouth refuses to give you mercy as he sucks and bites down your neck even more. Your mind is dizzy as his hands grip your breasts and you toss your head back as your arch into his groping hands. “Fuck… you’re perfect, shit Shouto! Don’t stop!”

A strangled moan escapes his mouth as your head returns to kiss him, his lips eager to meet yours again. You squeak as he sits up with no warning, his hands clutching your ass as he begins walking to your shared room. A heated pressure begins to form as you anticipate what’s to come. You know that if you don’t act quickly, he’s going to flip you on top of him and go stiff for the rest of the night.

Your fingers begin yanking his shirt over his head, your lips breaking for less than a second to do that. Shouto is able to remove your shirt with ease with only one hand. He sits down on the bed, your knees sinking into the soft mattress.

You pull away reluctantly, your chest heaving as you shake your head, “Wait!” You say as you watch as Shouto’s eyes open with curiosity. His eyebrows scrunched as if he was trying to figure out what he did wrong. “I want to try something new…” You gasp trying to collect your breath.

“What?” Shouto asks most likely unaware of what you said.

You get off Shouto and walk to your side of the bed, pulling out the box. You take out a black rope, “I want you… I want you to tie me up.” You demand, and you look into his eyes that widen slightly.

His nod is minuscule, you almost miss it, but with awkward movements, your at the head of the bed. You are slipping the rope between the spaces and you lay down on the bed as Shouto is above you. His face unsure, unknowing.

His hands knot the rope around your wrists, and your breath hitches each time as you stare at him. Your chest rapidly rising and falling as he looks at your form. “Keep being good for me,” The words roll off your tongue, hoping it’s praiseful enough to incite action for him.

“I… I don’t—“

“Yes you can, my love,” You say your eyelashes fluttering. “You got this. You always make me feel content and happy.”

Shouto stills from above you, his eyes locking on yours and he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips.

He breaks away, panting in the thought of what’s to come.

“What if I fuck up?” Shouto asks his hands sliding down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“Shhh,” You disagree, now regretting the ropes as you can’t pull him in. Was he really just insecure this entire time? “You’re doing perfectly? Okay? You got this.”

Shouto stares at you, a fire in his eyes. It’s dim, wavering, and unsure, but it’s there. He presses his hands by your head, and you can’t help but shift in anticipation as he leans down. His lips gliding over yours soft and smooth.

Not one to shy away, you pressed your tongue against his lower lip and smiled as he opened his mouth. His tongue letting yours dance with him.

Shouto pulls away, his chest heaving as he shakes his head. “No.” He snaps and your furrow your eyes confused.

“No—?”

“You want me to be dominant… don’t you?” He asks sharply, his eyes scouring yours. “I know I’m not the best in bed, and this is your way of helping me.”

“Shouto…”

“Stop, y/n, it’s okay…” Shouto says his hands raking through his hair. “Please… let me be the one to take charge.”

All you can do is stare at him, ambition and fire in his face burning you as you feel your arousal spike. You nod your head, agreeing to his terms, and his mouth is on yours again.

Hesitant yet demanding.

You gasp as he splits open your legs and settles between them. His tongue immediately lashing into your mouth. You shudder against him as his tongue traces the roof of your mouth, his fingers gripping at your waist.

Your hands tug at the ropes, and you sadly moan at the denial of raking your fingers through his hair. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck. His tongue softly pressing against the hickies he had early engraved into your skin. “Keep going lower,” You pant, your eyes screwed as you pant.

Shouto still against the valley between your breasts, and he shakes his head. “You’re going to have to stop praising me…” He shudders as his left-hand grasps your bra in his fingers. “It’s making me want to lose my control.”

“I want to see you lose control,” You tease, your eyes staring at him through your eyelashes. “You want to do it, no? Do it.”

Shouto snarls against your skin, and your bra reduced to ashes as you gasp in shock. He doesn’t give you time to reprimand you as his mouth is surrounding your nipple. His tongue flicking your pert nipples in his mouth. “Fuck, baby, yes oh my god that feels so great!” You cry out, your chest arching off the bed. You jut your hips up off the bed in an attempt to get some form of friction with him.

His right-hand rolls your right nipple, his teeth biting down on your sensitive nipples. You shriek softly, this new feeling overwhelming. His free hands gently touch the underside of your breast and you gasp again, and Shouto pulls away. Your breast gleams with his saliva, and you moan as his fingers gently grind against your crotch.

“You’re doing so well,” You groan as Shouto’s fingers undo your shorts. Shouto heaves again as he pulls off your shorts, staring at your soaked panties, and he chuckles.

“You’re so wet…” Shouto says, a curious tone to his voice as he shifts backward, his finger ghosting where your slit is. You squirm slightly. Your hands fighting against the restraints once again as you shudder.

Shouto rolls his finger against his thumb, “All this just for me?”

“You make me feel so fucking good…” You whine, and your hips try to reach out to his hand, desperate for friction.

“Am… Am I doing alright?” Shouto asks, and you blink again, your mouth falling slightly. Your heart swelling even more so for the man between your legs.

“You’re doing perfectly, keep going.” You say biting down on your lip as he nods, full of insecurity again. “Shoucchan, I am so fucking wet right now, and you did that all on your own… I want you... so badly.”

His lips pressed into a fine line, as he nods again, this time confidence once again filling his form. Before you could react, your panties were thrown off, and his tongue is between your folds.

You scream his name, your knees clenching around his head as his tongue teases your entrance. His eyes search yours, and your legs shakily release your vice grip around his head. His eyes are looking at you for help, and you nod your head, unable to come up with words. “That’s good, baby… fuck, it’s good!! Why not try--aahh my god--try using your fingeRS!” You squeak, your hips rolling into his flickering tongue. Your body is unable to handle the feeling of him.

Your belly fills with liquid heat as tingles shoot down your legs. The coil in your stomach tightening with every passing lick.

Two fingers curl as they enter you, and you shake against him. The overstimulation was quickly getting to you and your legs thrash around.

His nose brushes against your clit, and you sob out his name. You want nothing more than to tug on his hair and to bring his soaked lips to yours as you ride him, but you’re unable to do that. Another finger enters you, and his free hand presses into your clit.

The pressure builds up higher and higher. Your hips are relentlessly rolling into his mouth and fingers.

“I’m going to… shit… Imma--!” His mouth leaves your pussy. You pant as you looked at him with pained eyes as he wipes his mouth which is coated with your juices.

“I can’t believe I didn’t let you do this earlier.” Shouto murmurs as he licks your juices off his fingers, grinning slightly as he does so. “Did that feel good?”

You don’t know whether to praise him or to berate him for having you on edge like that.

“I just…” Shouto sighs as he takes off his pants. “I want to see you around my cock…”

You whine softly at those words. Your arms once more tugging at the restraints as Shouto undresses completely. Your wet your lips again as the tip of his cock teases your entrance. “Are you ready?” You ask, your eyes locking onto his, Shouto looks worried but he nods his head.

“Yes.”

With a hand to guide his cock into your soaked folds, you yelp as he thrusts into you. Burying his length to its entirety into your heated cave.

“Oh my god, your dick feels so good!” You moan as your hips wiggle in an attempt to get him to move. “Baby, you’re so perfect to me.”

A growl leaves his lips, and the next thing you know Shouto’s hips are drilling into yours. His movements are sharp, rough, and fast. Your arms pulling yet again on the restraints. As you ever so desperately want to feel his toned body under your fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight…” Shouto groans as you nod your head pathetically in agreement.

His grip is leaving bruises on your waist. You let out another lewd noise at the sound of his body intercepting yours. “Don’t stop, you’re doing so well. Shouto, oh my god, please go faster, you’re so amazing!” You shriek as his arm moves your leg to his shoulder.

His penetration deepens and you pull against the restraints. Your body moving towards the bed, and Shouto is quick to follow after you. His thrusting never waiver once, his grip leaving your locked leg to press flat onto your clit. You shudder against him.

Sharp pants escape his mouth as he places his hands onto the pillow by your head. Your leg hooked around his shoulder stretching as your hips meet his with every thrust. Your arousal intensifies as a burning pressure erupts within you. Your head falling backward as you lacked the energy to keep it up. “Look at me,” Shouto growls. The pleasure burns through your veins. It almost prohibits you from staring into his mismatched eyes.

Shouto drops to his forearm, and you scream, the tip of his dick brushing against your g-spot.

“Did you like that?” Shouto snarls against your throat. You nod your head as he angles himself into the same position and rocks even harder. Even further than before. Your body is trembling underneath his own. Languid moans seeping from your mouth in harmony with Shouto’s grunts.

“You’re so fucking amazing!” You sob as the heat within your core is overwhelming. Your breathing hitching with every slam of his hips.

“Come for me?” Shouto almost pleads against your neck, and you nod frantically.

The pressure breaks, and you come hard onto his dick, your mouth open as his lips messily press against yours. You cry his name as you pathetically squirm underneath him. Your pussy clenching around his dick with every thrust. The tingles spreading throughout your body as he chases your orgasm.

You feel Shouto curse against your throat. And with a stuttering thrust, expels his sticky and hot seed within you.

Shouto pulls away from you, sweat dripping down his face as he smiles. His hands wipe his forehead as he puts your leg back onto the mattress. He presses another soft kiss to your lips as he stands up and grabs his phone.

Looking at the screen he smirks before dressing himself.

Despite your high, your whine at the fact that he was dressing without untying your wrists first.

“Shoucchan--?”

“I have to go now, love,” Shouto admits as he presses another kiss to your bruised lips. “I’m not quite done with you yet, you’re just going to have to wait for me to come back? Okay?”

He doesn’t give you time to reject those thoughts as he slips out of the room. Ignoring the pleading calls for him to get back. The sounds of you thrashing against the mattress making him smile as he leaves.

Oh yeah, you had definitely awakened something within him.

[ziracona]

Dwight/Jake wedding headcanons maybe? They deserve it.

For sure!

It’s a couple years down the road. They’ve been living in the Indiana house with Adam, while the others orbit in and out from Springwood and Lockport and Haddonfield and Indianapolis and Bloomington and New Jersey and Missouri and New York and such every few days. It’s peaceful and fun there for them. Woods, big house, familiar smells and people and memorobelia and Ron’s grave and markers added nearby for Vigo and Alex and Lisa and Sujan and the person from the lab with no name and the survivors who came before them and never got to be buried. It’s home. They’re just chilling, Dwight and Jake talking with intent but also very relaxed about something while Adam edits a sequel in his easy chair, deep in edit mode, when Jake calls over, “Hey Adam, do you want to be a best man, or do you want to marry us?”

Which Adam hears the wrong homophone for for a second and almost takes him out before he realizes they meant the other version of ‘marry’ and remembers how to breathe again.

He stutters out a, “Well, I, uh—I mean, I can do whichever you’d prefer, but I’m not ordained. In. Anything. I know I did Min and Nea’s, but—”

“—Yeah, we know, but we just need it to be legal,” Jake shrugs, “and we don’t want a stranger at the wedding period, so someone’s getting ordained.”

“I think you can get ordained online in like an hour,” adds Dwight helpfully, “and we’re not religious either, but—and now that I’m saying this it was Meg so that means I should make sure becuase sometimes her memory for numbers is uhhh bad, but she told me like a week ago you only need ten people to officially get your new religion recognized. And we could be ‘the survivors’ or something. I don’t know I believe in much, but I believe in that.”

Jake nods. “Whatever is true, this group of people can rip a hole in the fabric of the universe for each other. I’d ascribe to that.”

“I kind of like that,” says Adam, “I would too. But if we have a spiritual ‘leader’, wouldn’t Ace be a better choice than me? Or Jane?”

This is considered a good point and they debate between Adam, Jeff, Tapp, Jane, and Ace for a bit, [Philip is also briefly considered, but they realize just as fast he’d be overwhelmed and stressed by having to do it & mercifully swap him to another role], then decide on Ace, who’s always been the kind of...not exactly dad, not exactly uncle, but not not those things, and certainly some kind of an early spiritual or morale core for them, parentish figure, and a comfort and hope leader for them all. Also, they know he’ll get a fkn kick out of being ordained for this.

Dwight takes Quentin as his Best Man, Claudette his Maid of Honor, and Jake takes Nea as Matron of Honor, Andrew as Best Man, and Meg as Maid of Honor. They decide fuck it, and it’s kinda Parks & Rec (an argument used by and against Jake many times the next few weeks) anyway, and also both take Adam and Philip as Best Men because fuck it, it’s too hard and also wedding rules are arbitrary and made to be broken, and so then Jake adds Kate as a bridesmaid, Dwight adds Laurie, they realize the number of survivors is dwindling dangerously and decide fuck it, our wedding is for us might as well be fkn weird and cool, and add David, Min, Tapp, Jane, Jeff, and Laurie as groomsmen and bridesmaids too. This still leaves Michael, Anna, Sally, Benedict, Susie, Jeff’s three Legion kids, and everyone’s families which is like fkn a lot of people, to be audience party (sans Nancy, who is pleaded with to be wedding party and run the music pre-reception because the number of people that they want involved /and/ who won’t give in to or be tricked by Meg into some kind of terrible flash mob stunt is very small, and in fact, basically is just Nancy. She is happy to do it and thinks their desperate reasoning is hilarious).

They break the news to Meg and Claudette and Ace first (after Adam), ask Ace to marry them, and tell Meg she can run post-weddding/reception music however she wants, except the songs for a couples dance & parent dances. She is /thrilled/. Claudette is very happy and cries. They call up Quentin & Nea to add to the conversation and Jake says Nea and Meg and Susie are in charge of setting up the wedding because he knows they’re gonna fight him for the role anyway, but they have to throw whatever they can together with only the stuff they own already and $50, they want only family & the other survivors/their families at the wedding, the service short and sweet, and to have it at the cabin, by the river. Meg loses her mind with indignance and joy together, and goes buckwild. They hit thrift shops for fairy lights and streamers and more.

Everyone is thrilled to be asked, Jane says “about time,” and Philip can’t think of anything to say and gets overwhelmed emotionally and taken off guard to be asked to be a groomsman. It’s sweet. Everyone with fashion sense takes everyone else shopping or through their wardrobes for fun wedding clothes and to at least have accent pieces that match a color theme. (Complimentary blues, yellow/gold, and pinks to the grooms’. More on that). It’s super fun & they make a fashion show of it. There’s no matching in form, just color, which is just the best version anyway there’s really no goddamn reason to spend thousands of bucks on a wedding when you could just have a funky cute good time with the people who love you & no stress.

Jake picks a deep blue hanbok (bc the hottest Jake I’ve ever seen is the one @eggchef did for lunar new year & the note in the tags about an actual hanbok has been banging around in my head ever since), and when they’re going through stuff for Dwight, he comments a pink one is surprisingly nice because it’s not the color he’d expected to think about, and Jake remarks offhand that if they do deep blue and pink they’ll be stealing their girls’ looks, and the second he says that, they both know there’s no other choice now. Dwight gets a light pink suit and a tie that matches Jake’s blue. They’re adorable and both look exceedingly handsome.

The wedding is short and perfect. Ace does a great job, it’s a nice day, and Meg works wonders with her $50 budget and (notably obscenely large) preexisting store of party supplies, + help from her mom who is passing down the legacy of being the best tiny budget party planner on earth. It’s very open, but with near arches and dangling glass and prisims that cast rainbows everywhere, lots of meaningfully chosen for their blessings and symbolism flowers and flower chains from Claudette. It’s a little reminiscent of the birthday decorations Min and Nea did plus the prisims, and that accidentally makes all the survivors super emotional like 1 minute in.

Only the moms get to speak in the wedding (besides Ace and the grooms), and Andrew and Meg and Nea and Quentin and such all gotta save their roasts for the reception. It’s sweet. Ace knows them super well and it shows in the best way. The grooms write their own vows, and both echo their statements in the hatch tunnel without knowing the other was going to do so too. Jake starts with an “I am deeply, unendingly, ridiculously in love with you,” and Dwight brings in a, “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” They end it with Dwight saying, “Will you still stay with me, now that it’s all over? Through whatever we’re thrown to next?” And Jake replying, “Wherever you go, I’ll always follow.”

I cry.

The reception is a party by the house. It’s just a huge prepared buffet made by the family who can cook, so no one has to sit and wait. Meg starts the music with Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor because she doesn’t “want to see people dragging their feet like a bunch of fuckin weenies, I want asses on that dance floor!” There’s a lot of 90s and early 2000s pop, but also many many classic dance songs. Lots of ABBA. Lots of it. Everyone has great fun. Min, Nea, Susie, and Meg made the playlist, except for a few of the specific dances. Muriel Fairfield’s mother-son dance with Dwight is to Song For Ten by Neil Hannon because he knows she’s a sweet big emotional nerd and it’s the song she wants, and he’s willing to do it, and she sobs and is a mess but also the happiest she’s been since the day she got the call he was alive.

They have literally zero idea where they’re going when they drive off for a honeymoon. They’re like “Uhh so I’ve been looking at our complete and utter lack of wedding structure and planning as a good thing? But we might have overstepped that a little here....”

Dwight drives while Jake searches the web for LGBT safe honeymoon locations because there’s nothing that would ruin a trip more than that not working out, and reads off a list and Dwight is like, “Wait wait holy fuck, I though you meant what US cities or maybe Canada. Switzerland? Do we even have cash for the plane fare somewhere like that?” And Jake just looks at the page silently for a few seconds, shuts the laptop, and without expression says, “...I really hate this, but I’m gonna let myself be a rich boy, just once.”

They take Andrew’s jet to New Zealand (Jake calls him and listens for 2 minutes then just monotone goes “Okay but you owe me for being a dipshit for fifteen years,” and they get the ride). Jake picks a relaxed pace and some scuba diving, some hikes, but no overnight camping. Lots of just seeing the world and holding hands and grinning at how absolutely breathless and shocked Dwight is at every chunk of nature like nothing he’s seen before. They are disgustingly, blissfully happy.

[quarantined-with-bucky]

Superpower

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~4,300

Summary: Bucky has an infatuation with The Incredibles that he might be taking too far. It takes some stern words from you to help him figure that out.

Warnings: A bit of angst, but also fluff, too

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and showing so much love to my last fic so much! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much. I like to write based off of little pieces of inspiration, so this time it was a tweet from Dr. Thema on Twitter and a response by Ashley C. Ford. I bolded both quotes since the quote-block format I usually use doesn’t fit right here!

...

“Super-strength is a superpower.”

“I never said it wasn’t. I was saying that you don’t have it.”

Bucky scoffs and folds his arms across his broad chest. In this moment it was hard to tell if he was puffing it out on purpose or if he had been putting in extra reps in the gym. Probably both, you decide. “Please, (Y/N), we just watched The Incredibles. We both know that I am literally Mr. Incredible.”

You couldn’t stifle your laugh. Two months ago, Bucky decided to catch up on all the movies he missed over the past seventy years. It took years to finally understand the internet, modern technology, and Wi-Fi (to be fair, you still aren’t exactly sure how that last one works, but you got the point across just fine). While Bucky had seen the basic movies: classic, old-timey movies, it was time to focus on the more enjoyable movies: kid movies. You watched Wall-E, making sure to explain the implications of that movie, Up, obviously you both cried, and Lilo & Stitch, an underrated classic.

Last night, in preparation for this mission, you’d insisted in watching The Incredibles. You thought it would hype him up for the tropical mission Steve was bringing him (and Sam) along on. And boy oh boy you were spot on. It had been twelve hours of nonstop Incredibles talk.

The night before, you two were snuggled up on the couch, mountains of blankets on top of you, bowls of popcorn and candy littered around you. Bucky’s arm slid around your back and you used the crook of his shoulder as a pillow. “What is going on here,” Bucky muttered to himself, squinting at the screen as the beginning of the movie started, Mr. Incredible fumbling around with his microphone.

You grinned in anticipation, wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him. “Isn’t it so cute?” You said into his chest.

Bucky shoves his mouth full of popcorn, laughing loudly at Frozen talking about babes and Mr. Incredible ranting about the world in jeopardy. You didn’t think that he’d be laughing this much already (you know it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but still); maybe this movie was just that relatable. Although you were just a desk jockey in the Avengers tower, you knew they were always off saving the world and sacrificing themselves to do so.

It was safe to say that Bucky clearly enjoyed the movie – it just felt so realistic to him. The next morning, he spent breakfast rambling on about the fact that Syndrome literally lived in a volcano; how could Mr. Incredible not know? Tony brought up the point that Hydra set up camp in the exact opposite climate, so Bucky should cut the animators some slack. Bucky was not having it. “Aren’t you technically Edna Mode?” He rhetorically asked Tony with a deadpan stare.

Tony scoffed, holding a hand over his heart to feign hurt, before returning the glare to Bucky. “Remind me to talk to you about your hobo suit later.” With that, he left the kitchen, strutting down the hall, followed with him yelling: “no capes!” as Thor walked past him, the god raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Later that night, Bucky had to leave for a mission. You’d spent the afternoon in Bucky’s bed with each other, holding one another close; and where you tried to have some light pillowtalk, it ended up being about The Incredibles II after he got back. The two of you ended up in the shower to wash off the afternoon workout. While you were wrapped up in a robe, brushing your post-shower hair in the mirror, Bucky popped up behind you with just a towel around his waist. “Honey, have you seen my super-suit?” You could only roll your eyes and smile in response.

…

“Well if you’re Mr. Incredible, then I’m Mrs. Incredible.” You took a step closer to him, closing the space between you such that your chests are touching.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your jeans. “I know,” he smiled, leaning forward to give you a kiss. “Those moves earlier? You’re even more flexible than her.”

“Cut it out, lovebirds,” Sam interrupted, his tone playful. “We don’t need a live show.”

Bucky drops his hands and leads you towards the hangar to where the jet was waiting. “All I’m saying is that I could definitely lift one of those train cars like he does. I could do more than one – ” he cuts himself off, stopping in his tracks. “(Y/N), I could juggle them.”

“Sure,” you hum, hooking your arm around his back and leaning into his side. “Although, when you think about it, you might be more of a cyborg than Mr. Incredibles, y’know?”

He groans, dropping his head and shutting his eyes. “But I don’t wanna be a cyborg.”

“We’ll watch Teen Titans then see how you feel.”

“Teen what?” He turned to stare blankly at you.

“Forget it, I’ll show you when you get back.” You smiled warmly up at him before he pulled you into a bear hug.

He kissed the top of your head and murmured “I love you” before pulling away.

“Love you, too, baby,” you responded softly. You sent him away with Steve and Sam, telling all of them to be safe before watching the jet take off.

With a sigh, you turned on your heel, seeing yourself out of the compound, heading back to your apartment. The streets of New York were busy despite the cold weather outside. Early November had its benefits: the streets were lined with orange, red, and brown as the trees were ready to shed their summer colors; but it also had its drawbacks: the streets were cold, and you could see your breath outside. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, pulling the collar closer around your exposed neck. If Bucky were here you already know he would’ve wrapped you up in his own coat to keep you warm, he would’ve held your hands in his own warm ones and nuzzled his nose against your own red nose. He was actually very sappy, when it came down to it. He was a sucker for you – constantly having to have his hands on you, make sure you were always warm.

You finished the thirty-minute walk to your apartment, taking your time to appreciate the fall scenery around you, glancing at all the Thanksgiving-soon-to-be-Christmas window displays, and enjoying the pumpkin scents around every corner. Pushing your door open, you were met with the warm heat and smell of the chrysanthemums Bucky had given you earlier that week. You tossed your keys to the side, shrugged your jacket off, and made a big mugful of hot chocolate.

You plopped down by the window and leaned your head on the glass, letting the steam from your drink warm your cheeks. You’d wondered in that moment where Bucky would be going exactly. He did mention it would be a tropical/forest vibe; the only thing you knew about that is that it’d be humid. Although you knew of Bucky’s disdain for cold, he wasn’t much of a fan of heat, either. He was much more of an autumn guy. You made a mental note to go for a walk through Central Park with him when he gets back.

He’d been gone for six days. Today was Thursday and you’d been stuck at your desk all morning. It hurt a little bit to have to walk to the Avenger’s Tower everyday without Bucky meeting you at the door (or Bucky walking with you to work, having spent the night before at your place) but you had to make do – paperwork needed to be completed.

Your eyes were aching from staring at your computer screen and your hand was cramping from all the scribbling you’ve been doing all day. The alternative was a coffee break in the café on the first floor – and you know what? Anything sounded better than work at the moment. You pop a post-it note on the door telling anyone looking for you that you’ll be back in ten. You make it to the elevator and straighten out your skirt as you stare at yourself in the reflection of the doors. Skirt a little wrinkled – nothing you can’t fix quickly in the elevator – button up shirt tucked in smartly, heels that made your feet ache, reading glasses that usually sit perched on your nose now shifted to sit on the top of your head, keeping your hair away from your face.

Despite how put-together you may look, you were exhausted and quite frankly, defeated. Not only was work kicking your ass lately but combined with the fact that Bucky was gone, and you hadn’t heard from him nearly wrecked you. Normally, he’d not take more than a day or two to reach out: a call or text simply to say he’s okay. You had to tell yourself that there was terrible reception wherever he was. That was going well for you, until you ran into Wanda one day on the elevator.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she greeted kindly, smiling wide as you entered the elevator next to her.

“Hi, Wanda, how have you been?” You responded. You’ve hung out with the Avengers at times. Usually your time with Bucky consisted of just the two of you, but sometimes you got the go-ahead to join their events and movie nights. Everyone welcomed you with open arms because not only was your personality so winning, but also you were the girl that brought Bucky out of his shell – in Sam’s words: “you made him sociable.”

“Good! It’s been busy around the complex, I’m sure you know already.” You’re not sure if she’s saying that because she’s aware of the pile of paperwork you’ve been working on for ages or if she can feel exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Yeah, you guys have given me a whole lot of paperwork,” you say, trying to give a hearty chuckle before awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

She nods and hums in response. “The boys have been busy,” she responds casually.

You bite your lip before taking a deep breath and nodding in affirmation. “I haven’t heard from Bucky lately, so I’d imagine so.”

She shrugs – again so casually. Can she not feel the fact you’re about to freak out right now? “Actually, nobody’s heard from any of them.” How did she just end that sentence like that? Nobody’s heard from them. Not with any of this trillion-dollar equipment – it can’t connect them one continent away? She senses your panic; there’s a change in your breathing and you eyes go wide, staring now directly at the floor. “(Y/N), no. I mean – they’re fine. Just because they haven’t said anything doesn’t mean – ”

The elevator dings and opens to your floor. You politely hold up your hand to her and smile. “I get what you’re saying, Wanda. Thanks for keeping me updated.” You shuffle out the door, calling out for her to have a good day.

You make it back to your office and don’t even try to stifle your loud sigh as you plop into your chair. Fuck.

…

So, it was sufficed to say you hadn’t slept very well since that interaction. It’s been three nights since she’s told you they were basically M.I.A.; you spent your nights rolling around in bed, holding his pillow to your chest, constantly checking your phone for any kind of notification from Bucky. Without hearing from him, you didn’t know how long he’d be gone; without hearing from him, you didn’t know if he was even okay. Screw your sleeping schedule, you just needed to make sure he was even alive.

You make your way back to your office, taking a sip of the piping hot coffee and as you swing the corner you hit a brick wall.

And there was a brick wall standing in the middle of the hallway.

You gaze up at the man, blue eyes staring directly into your own. He’s breathing a little fast, especially for someone who had been standing in front of your office door, staring at the post-it note for quite some time. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched – he was nervous; something was wrong.

Very wrong.

It wasn’t even until his hand reached out to you, stopping in mid-air in front of your shirt before you noticed the coffee that spilt down the front of your shirt. It was warm, sure, but your racing heart took precedence over the splash of liquid that coated your black shirt. “Sorry, (Y/N), I – ”

“It’s fine. When did you get back?” You don’t care about the coffee; you barely even felt it. You shifted the weight between your feet, squeezing the coffee cup in your hand. Why were you so nervous? There was so much tension in the air. Just staring at him as he waited patiently for you to return from your coffee run. Neither of you knowing what to say. Its like you were strangers.

He runs a hand through his hair, huffing out a deep breath. He was actually still in uniform; you didn’t notice until you asked that question. His face was grimy, slick with sweat and remnants of mud and maybe even some flecks of blood if you squint. He then scratched at the stubble gracing his chin. “Just now.” He still can’t breathe. How was he supposed to tell you? You were certainly going to kill him when you found out.

He didn’t know what to say. He was thinking about this the whole plane ride home, the whole walk to your office, the whole ten agonizingly long minutes he’d spent waiting outside your office. But now, looking into your curiously wide eyes, glazed over with concern – you were basically paralyzed in fear; if it weren’t for your incessant shifting. It was almost driving him crazy to look at someone who is about to jump out of their skin with fear, yet unsure of what move to make or what to say. “Where is he?”

And Steve swallowed hard. “He’s okay.” You stared straight into his soul. “Well, he’s – ”

“Steve.”

“He’s alive. He got shot. A couple times.” Each fragment that left his mouth was punctuated by the prompt shutting of his mouth. It was important to him to stop himself from saying too much. Your mouth actually dropped open. There was nothing left for you to say, but your jaw dropped. He reached out and took hold of your arms in his hands. “He’s alive,” he repeated, the words not resonating in your brain (and he could see that). “He’s in med-bay. (Y/N), he is fine.” He didn’t think he could be any clearer.

Nothing made sense. You felt as though you were asked to complete a 100-piece puzzle with only three-pieces. You were struggling to comprehend anything that came out of Steve’s mouth. Instead, you sharply turned on your heel. You were calm – this cannot be emphasized enough – you walked with your shoulders pulled back and gaze straight ahead; but you weren’t looking at anything, simply following your own muscle memory on your way to the med-bay.

Steve chased after you – he walked behind you, taking long strides as to not overtake you. He kept saying your name, telling you to calm down, but you already were. Except your heart was thumping out of your chest. You couldn’t even form any more questions for Steve. Obviously: “where was he shot” was a glaring question, “how close to death was he” is another; you can’t even put those words together right now.

You shove open the doors to med-bay, blatant disregard for the coffee still in your hand, splashing now-tepid liquid again on your shirt and sleeve. That’s when you see him: sprawled out on a cot that’s too small for him; his boots hung off the end of the bed, dry mud caked to the bottom of his heavy boots, flaking onto the floor. As soon as you’d shoved the door open, Steve following you in toe, Bucky’s head lifted towards you. He actually grinned.

You’d nearly fainted. His face was littered with cuts and scrapes, dirt around each wound scrubbed away by the doctor then coated in slick, clear antibiotic. His shirt was long gone, leaving him in his combat boots still riddled with weapons (visibly and concealed, you could only assume) and his dirty boots. His chest was completely bandaged; he was grateful you’d walked in after he’d already been covered because he knew that he’d be hearing an earful from you if you’d actually been able to see the damage. This way, you’d only be able to see the wounds to change the dressing probably hours from now. His body would be nearly healed.

“James.” It was stern. You weren’t mad, per say; you couldn’t be mad – you were glad he was even alive. You didn’t know why your tone was so harsh; you were pissed that he was shot, probably due to some heroic act of saving one of his teammates, or maybe he was just being careless? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to find out – they’d never tell you which it was, anyway.

“Hey, doll,” he says casually, already trying to schmooze his way back on your good side.

“James.” This time you breathed his name, finally getting close enough to put your hands on his chest – fingertips ghosting off the edge of the gauze, where the bandage met his collarbone. He took both your hands in his, pulling them together and placing them tenderly over his heart. There must have been six layers of gauze over him – not a speck of dirt or blood poking through.

“Baby, look at me,” he whispered. You flicked your eyes up to his worried ones. His eyebrows were drawn together, mouth pressed into a firm line. “I’m fine.”

“James,” you sobbed, tears that were once held at bay now falling freely down your cheeks and falling onto his pants. You choked back any more words, nodding furiously as you found it hard to breath. He pulled your arms and yanked you to the bed and now you were sitting beside him, his hands now cupping the back of your neck, cradling your head against where his neck meets his collarbone. He cooed softly into your hair, whispering sweet nothings as he rubbed your back up and down.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. And all you could do was nod against his skin, crying more and more as he pressed each kiss onto your head.

It was probably ten minutes of crying before you calmed down, now laying against him in silence, your eyes shut resting against his shoulder. “You know,” he whispered, pulling you from silence. “I always love seeing you in your work clothes. All smart and sexy.” You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, snuggling further into him. “But you smell like coffee.”

…

Bucky was barred from missions for three months. And while he was physically healed within a week and a half, Steve wasn’t so sure about his mental state – and you weren’t so sure either. Actually, it had been a more than pleasant three months. He started off doing physical therapy once a day, then adding in workouts and phasing out the therapy. This occupied maybe four hours per day. That meant that the rest of his free time he spent in your office, at your apartment, and in your bed.

That would be fine with you if you could confidently say that Bucky was one hundred percent okay.

Most of the time, he’d spend all day next to you being a total chatterbox – actually, he any willing conversation he had would be about the book you were reading, that one episode of friends the two of you watched last night, rambling on remodels of his place and if he should paint his dresser. It was the unwilling conversations that he had that concerned you.

The words he’d mumble to himself as he rolled around in your bed having a nightmare. Every time, you’d spend five minutes trying to wake him up. At first you started out by nudging him awake, it developed to the state that now you had to fully grab his arm and shake him wildly to get him up. You’d sit there, pulling your hands through his hair, whispering sweet nothings until he calmed down. Every time, you’d ask him if he wanted to talk about it; he’d say now. You then asked him to tell you – you pleaded for him to let you into that side of his life. You begged to understand and cried for him – with him.

It was no different tonight.

If he wouldn’t talk, then you would. “Baby, you can’t keep doing this.” He sat up in bed, sheets twisted around his legs, leaning over with his back pressed into the iron-rung headboard. It was cool against his hot skin – the only thing making it semibearable as the bars pressed into the tight muscles in his back. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s not good for you.”

He didn’t say anything. He stared straight in front of him, his hands clasped over one another on his lap. You held one of his forearms in both hands, dragging your fingers in light patterns softly over his skin. You continue pleading with him: “you can tell me anything. Please, I hope you understand that.”

With this, he peers up at you with sorrow filled eyes. You can barely see them in the dark. “I know I can. It’s not a big deal, though. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You drop his arm in frustration, instead bringing your hands up to your hair and gripping it tightly, feeling like pulling your hair out might be a better option than bringing this conversation where it needs to go. “You have these nightmares every night, James. It’s only getting worse. I can tell that you’re hurting, and it hurts me to see you like that. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it, I can see that somethings wrong.”

He shrugs. “I can take it. Look, I’m sorry if I keep waking you up. I won’t stay over anymore.” He turns his head sheepishly towards his lap again, shoulders hunching forward. You know he thinks it’s a joke; he’s putting on an act. He wants you to curl up to his side, beg him to stay, make-out, have sex to take his mind off it, and fall asleep peacefully. You know because you’ve done it before. Multiple times.

God, he can be so annoying. “James.” Your stern tone had returned, you dropped your hands out of your hair and let them fall heavily on your lap. “A history of trauma can give you a high tolerance for emotional pain. Just because you can take it doesn’t mean you have to.”

He wasn’t sure what to do in that moment. There was nothing to say – nothing he could say. There wasn’t anything he could follow that up with; not a joke, not a sound, not even an intelligent sentence. He instead stared down at his hands, not even moving a muscle, not even to blink.

You were calm once again. You knew that your words had finally gotten through to him. Your relationship was strong: you’d built an emotional connection such that you two could be in the middle of the most serious discussions and still be able to crack a joke. But the both of you knew this wasn’t the time. That’s why he still hadn’t said anything: he didn’t have a smartass response, nor a comment he could make to get out of this one.

“Suffering is not a superpower.”

And with those final words, Bucky broke, his face contorting in pain, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling into an open frown. His shoulders shook slowly as he struggled to breath, holding his face in his hands. You couldn’t sit idly by, so you grabbed his hands and swung a leg over him, sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist so he had something to hold on to; his arms wrapped tighter around you as his head dropped to the front of your chest, quietly sobbing into your shirt. You secured your arms around him, looping them over his shoulders and around his neck.

You sat there absorbing his tears, not saying a word, not even whispering a small “shh.” It was about time he let his emotions out and you weren’t about to cut him off now. You’d spent every waking moment with him (save for his workouts and physical therapy) so you knew how long this emotional release had been building up inside of him. Every once and a while everyone needs a good cry – Bucky hadn’t had one in years.

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there. His sobs turned into quiet sniffles turned into calm, steady breathing. You knew this conversation was far from over. He needed therapy, or at the least needed to vent to you more often. Whatever solution you two would come up with could wait until the morning. Right now, he needed rest, he needed tranquility.

You didn’t know if he was asleep, and hell, you, yourself, were almost asleep. It wasn’t until he broke the silence when you got your answer. “Can we watch The Incredibles II?”

[snarkwrites]

sprung spring | cherry? popped. | xavier plympton {m}

PROMPT USED:

First time + permeate + “I need you. Now!” + rock in place + the steady creaking of the bed + supernatural being / human

NOTES:

Obviously, I am so so fucking awful at naming anything. And I tried my best to fuse ‘pre death’ Xavier’s personality with what he started to become before getting murdered and stuck in Camp Redwood. This is just my take. It’s probably not even remotely accurate, tbh. But.. It’s out here. I wrote the damn thing. I suppose I gotta own whatever consequence comes my way. 

Fun fact... this is a small peek at a sort of story idea I have in mind that knowing me, I won’t ever write... So... yeah. Maybe if enough people bother me, I’ll think about writing the actual fic I have in mind. Hints of a soulmate au if you squint. Virgin sex. FYI, this is set in 2019. And the concept as I imagine it and would write it if I were to do a fic is a little... weird... twisty... idk mannnn...

WARNINGS:

unprotected sex - with a ghost, body fluids, heavy emphasis on biting and marking, oral / hints of orgasm denial, probably waay too fluffy / sappy Xavier, virgin ! human oc x ghost ! xavier... I think that’s it.

PAIRING:

Xavier Plympton x OFC, Cherie. American Horror Story 1984

TAGGING:

Oddly enough, there’s no one on my American Horror Story taglist. If you would like to be on my tag lists please go [ here ] and put yourself where you wish to be. Or dm me and tell me where you wanna be tagged and I’ll add you.

“You’re not down at the bonfire with your boytoy?” Xavier didn’t even look up from the magazine he was flipping through. He knew she’d be standing there, watching him. The air between them lingered heavily with words unspoken. Since earlier, when she’d seen the soulmate marking on his arm that matched her own, she’d been scarce. If they had run into each other, she’d been distant.

Montana was right. In a few weeks, they’d all be gone and things would go back to the way they’d been before. He’d been an idiot to think that he could just get close to Cherie and be fine with having to let go at the end of the summer. So when Cherie started to avoid him earlier, he hadn’t tried to fight it. He hadn’t gone out of his way to seek her out.

They were literally two ships passing at night, after all. He was dead, doomed to remain in the camp for the rest of time. She was alive and she had so much ahead to live for. Things he couldn’t give her, even though he realized now that he really wanted to.

If he were as selfish as he’d been on occasion in life, he’d be stopping at nothing to keep her by his side. But he wasn’t entirely that guy anymore, so maybe it was better this way.

In the time it took him to come to this conclusion, she’d wandered into the cabin, shutting the door behind her softly. Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, she sat there, staring down at worn floorboards.

“I was. But then I…” Cherie trailed off, going quiet. “Look, before I came here, everything was planned. I was fine with it. Then earlier tonight, Jake got drunk and high and he started acting like an ass like usual…” she trailed off again, taking a deep breath. “I broke up with him.”

Xavier sat up, letting the magazine fall to the mattress. Even though he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he found himself slipping an arm around her. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah, no… I don’t know. Everything is changing. I wish I could just freeze time. Or rewind it. I shouldn’t have come here, this was dumb, what am I even doing?” Cherie went to stand, but Xavier’s arms snaked around her hips and he pulled her back down to sit on his bed. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he leaned against her from behind.

This went against everything. He kept telling himself that he could handle the fact that the one thing he didn’t even realize he wanted having an actual for good expiration date attached, but today, her seeing their matching marks at last and distancing… It had shown him that he was wrong and he’d been trying to distance.

“No, no.. Freezing time or going back is the last thing you wanna do, doll. Believe me.” Xavier’s voice was warm and breathy against the shell of her ear and as he started to massage her shoulders, her eyes fluttered open and shut. Her head fell back and Xavier’s eyes locked on her neck as he licked his lips. He pressed closer.

“What’s that got to do with you comin in here, doll?”

“Because everything just became crystal clear… Maybe everything I had all planned out was wrong. Maybe Winona’s right. Shit happens for a reason. Coming out here, meeting you, I… I can’t fight the inevitable, not when I want it so bad it’s all I can see when I close my eyes… Do you know how hard it is, being around him, trying to pretend nothing’s changed and wishing it were you?”

Xavier’s breath caught and he gripped her body, pulling her into his lap before he could stop himself. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Trust me.”

“No, I know exactly what I’m saying.” Cherie’s tone was firm and she settled in his lap so that she was closer, pressing against him. As usual, he was almost icy cold. She gritted her teeth but smiled a little, taking his face in her hands. “You won’t make me change my mind. Look… I’m not saying that when the summer ends, I’m not gonna just…. Go off and do everything.. I’m not saying I give up, I just… I’m saying that I can’t keep going through the motions now. I just wanna be free. I want to enjoy things.”

“Babe, you can’t…” Xavier trailed off. She rocked herself against him and he swallowed hard, trying to shift the way she sat in his lap so she didn’t feel him about to burst through the jeans he was wearing.  His hands slipped down her sides, squeezing her hips to try and stop her from doing it again. 

“Why not? Don’t you want me? I mean we’ve been…Flirting for a while now and I thought that...Nevermind.” Cherie trailed off, confused and shaking her head. Her stomach was churning and she was starting to feel the embarrassment of potentially being wrong. She went to wiggle out of his lap and she made it to the door.

Xavier swore under his breath because the last thing he wanted to do was let her walk out that door. Goddamn it, he thought to himself, don’t I deserve something after all this bullshit?

“Wait, doll. Don’t go.” Xavier pressed himself against her from behind, his hand covering her hand on the doorknob, removing it. He slowly circled the shell of her ear with his tongue as he muttered lazily, “You’re not wrong, okay? I want you. So fucking much.” he thrust his hips against her backside, rubbing the bulge straining against his jeans against her backside and growling when the littlest bit of friction just wasn’t enough.

Just feeling how hard he was already through thin bike shorts had Cherie hissing and taking a ragged breath as she turned to face him and stared up. Her arms slipped up, wrapping around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck as she clung to him and pulled him down just slightly. Enough that her mouth brushed right against his and Xavier growled quietly again, his hands gripping her hips tighter. Up into his arms she went and he stepped back over to the bed, dropping her gently against the lumpy mattress. He leaned down, pressing himself into her, his hands pinning her hands at either side of her head. “I need you. Now. We just… we won’t think about anything but tonight, okay?” the question came breathy and warm against her neck as his lips latched on and he rocked himself into her, drawing out a needy whine and a few ragged breaths as she nodded. “Agreed.” grinding against his lap, her breath hitching all over again as she felt the bulge in his jeans getting even harder. Her cunt was throbbing. Every single time he bucked into her, she could feel herself dripping a little more. 

Xavier’s forehead pressed into hers, his mouth latching onto her lips, drawing her into a slow and lazy kiss. Her tongue slipped out, trailing lazily over the outline of his lips and one of his hands left her hand, drifting down between them and tugging the baggy crop top she was wearing up and out of the way, letting it settle on the cabin floor.

Cherie tugged his shirt over his head, throwing it next to her own and Xavier’s hands drifted up and down her body, lingering on her breasts, pushing them together, his tongue slipping over her teeth, tracing them and then slipping between them to tangle with her own tongue. She rocked herself up into him, a quiet series of urgent whimpers and begging moans making him chuckle and reach for the pull to the lamp on the table next to the bed, cloaking the room in total darkness. His mouth broke from her mouth, working down her neck after he’d pushed her hair out of his way. 

The warmth of his breath against her ear sent a shiver racing through her body and when he muttered quietly “Gonna be a long night, doll.” smirking down at her when he felt her legs squeeze into his hips a little more. Her fingertips walked down his chest, toying with the button on his jeans as she stared up at him and bit her lip, giving a soft giggle when she responded quietly, “I hope so.”

Every part of him wanted to follow up with how he’d think of her as belonging to him after tonight, after they crossed this line, but he had to stop himself. He had to hold back. It was bad enough he was going this far. To delude himself -and most importantly, her, about a future they couldn’t ever logically have would be insane. Rather than do that, his hands caught in the waistband of her shorts and he started to pull them down her legs. She got his button undone, then the zip to his pants and Xavier rose a little too quickly, bumping the top of his head on the bunk above him and scowling while swearing about it, kicking his pants and boxers free at the ankle. Cherie’s eyes wandered over him slowly, lingering and even widening a little at the sight of his cock, standing at attention.

The thickness of his length had her swallowing hard and biting her lip as her heart raced erratically. Xavier knew exactly what she was staring at and it made him give a quiet chuckle as he lowered himself down all over again. Only her undergarments remained and those were quickly done away with, falling to the floor and settling on the edge of the nightstand and as soon as she was pinned beneath him, completely naked, Xavier’s eyes roamed over her body slowly and hungrily. 

He licked his lips and centered himself above her, his body spreading her legs. Lowering his face to her face, he muttered smoothly, “Last chance to back out, pretty girl.” 

“If I were going to back out, handsome… I never would’ve come in here to you.” Cherie admitted, going quiet when he stared at her a second or two as what she said clicked into place for him. He smirked, his mouth conquering her neck and throat, marking her up and not bothering to be careful or discreet about it at all.

Oh no, not him. He wanted tonight to be seared into her mind. If he was going to be stuck here, not able to forget her and knowing she was out there, away from him and living… If he were going to endure that torture, she was not going to forget tonight if he could help it. He wanted her to look back years from now and miss him. Wonder what might have been.

Maybe it was selfish. At the moment, he didn’t particularly care. It was already enough that he was going to do the right thing at the end of the summer and just let her go. That was already killing him. That was going to be enough selfless for him, right there. Knowing he had to let her go and that he’d never see her again, he’d never get to know what might have been.

“Fucking right you did, doll. You came to me.” Xavier’s voice was husky and low as he muttered into soft skin. Cherie took a shaky breath and gripped hold of his biceps, making him stop his mouth’s venture down her body and stare at her. “Just a heads up… I’m not exactly experienced at this.. Any of it… at all.” 

Her words had him gaping a little but leaning down, capturing her mouth in a needy and bruising kiss as he muttered lazily into the kiss, “This is going to be fun, then.” as her fingers caught in his hair, threading through. 

He reached down between them, wrapping his hand around his length, raising up to guide it along her folds, staring down at her with that devilish smirk as he licked his lips. When he teased the tip between them, he shivered and gave a quiet groan at the way she dripped already. “ Tell me something, doll..” he muttered , leaning down, pressing into her as his mouth moved across her collarbones, nipping and sucking. He stopped to look at her.

“Yeah?” Cherie breathed out, squirming, trying anything she could to get him inside her.  She gripped his jaw, guiding his mouth back to hers, her lips clenching his bottom one almost greedily as she bucked herself against him, splitting her folds as her cunt dragged down the length of his cock. Xavier growled and gripped her hip tight enough to leave a handprint behind and chuckling, he finished his question, “Are you ready to get your cherry popped, doll?”

“Yes.” gasping, she gave her answer as she tried again to buck against the grip he had on her hip. She couldn’t, and just knowing that had Xavier smirking, his tongue dragging lazily over his lip as he rose up and then crawled down her body, settling himself between her thighs, holding them spread with his hands. His tongue rolled up the insides, lapping greedily at every drop as she dripped for him. He felt her hand drifting down, tangling in the top of his hair and tugging. “That’s it, pretty girl. Pull my hair. Move those fucking hips.” Xavier drawled against her cunt as his tongue trailed right between it, a broad stripe moving upward to circle her clit one, two, three times. When he sank his teeth into the edge of the bundled nerves, she cried out, her other hand gripping the faded blanket on his bed. Her hips rocked upward against his mouth and his nose bumped against her dripping heat as he inhaled and groaned at the scent of her. He could feel his cock getting harder at just the thought of burying inside, having her walls clench around it. Feeling her drip and coat it. Making her scream his name over and over and over again. When she whimpered and whined and begged him to go faster with his tongue after he’d buried it deep in her cunt, he chuckled and smirked against her. “Does this feel good? Because fuck… You taste so sweet.” 

Cherie’s head fell back and she gripped the blanket and his hair tighter, angling her hips upward, rocking against his mouth like he told her to, harder and faster. The faster her hips moved, the more his tongue swirled. Xavier growled against dripping folds as the taste of her absolutely flooded his tongue and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he made his way back up her body, pulling her up, crushing her against him as he pulled her into a rough and bruising kiss. 

He felt her tense beneath him as he started to sink into her and she whimpered, biting her lip as she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s not gonna hurt long, okay? I promise.” Xavier’s voice was almost a growl when he muttered the words against the shell of her ear. His hands drifted down, gripping her hips as he sank into her a little deeper, staring down at her the whole time.

“Fuck.” Cherie gasped, “So big.” 

The words drew a pleased smirk and Xavier pressed his hips into her hips firmly, going still after he’d buried himself in a little deeper. She tried to move her hips but he squeezed them, holding her still and shaking his head. “You good?”

“Mhm.” Cherie muttered and Xavier buried his cock completely inside, slow and deep thrusts, his hips smacking against hers so hard that he knew there would be bruises. She met every single one of his deep and hard thrusts with her hips, moaning his name and whimpering, clinging to him from below. “C’mon, faster, please?” she managed to gasp, but Xavier continued at his preferred pace, hell bent on fucking her deep into the mattresses beneath them. She pouted up at him, frustrated tears stinging at her eyes because she could feel herself tensing and tightening, just like she’d been when he had his head buried between her thighs and he kept stopping then.

She wanted another orgasm.

He seemed to be hell bent on taking his time. As his cock struck against her throbbing g spot over and over, slowly and steadily, she moaned louder, her voice drowning out the soft smack of their bodies colliding and the slow and steady creak of the old iron bed frame. “C’mon, doll.. Scream my name. Let everyone know who’s got their cock buried deep in that dripping pussy.” Xavier urged, smirking when he started to go a little faster and Cherie seemed to get louder, her moans bouncing off the walls and drowning out all the other little background noises around them. “You’re so fucking tight, so wet. Fuck.” Xavier managed to gasp as he went still inside her, holding his finger to her lips, leaning in to steal a few kisses. 

It felt so fucking good he knew if he kept going, he’d explode. Stopping was better than doing that. But he knew he couldn’t hold off much longer, either. And he could feel her tensing all over, practically shaking now, whimpering and begging him to be able to come.

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up, pretty girl. Do you wanna feel?” he asked as he drove into her deeper and harder, his hips snapping erratically as his mouth latched onto her neck, leaving a line of bites and bruises in his wake. Cherie moaned as her orgasm rushed through her, leaving her shaking and whimpering, rocking her hips against his thrusts greedily, gasping for air as she clung to him. Xavier fucked her through her orgasm and right into his own, the tightness of her cunt as it encased his length driving him right over the edge before he could stop. “Fuck… Fuck… here it comes.” he groaned as his cock throbbed, rope after rope of his sticky hot seed seeping into her deep, their juices puddling beneath them on the bed. He flopped down behind her, pulling her partially on top of him, raking his hand through her hair to push it back out of her eyes as he pulled her into a lazy yawn filled kiss. 

“Sun’s comin up.” he muttered quietly, chuckling when she swore under her breath but then cuddled against him completely and muttered through a yawn, “Fuck it. I’m too lazy to give a damn what that overbearing woman could possibly have to say when she realizes I’m not in my bed.”

“That’s the spirit, doll. Just stay here with me a little longer.”

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: What Goes Around Comes Around

Ask: 1. I am literally obsessed with Arthur’s bottom, it is just so nicely shaped 😍 if you could pretty please with a cherry on top do a smut where for days you’ve been teasing Arthur about his ass with sexual comments, ass grabbing and him catching you checking it out until he snaps and give you a real good dicking! My god would be heaven😍💦

2. hi! could you write a fic where arthur decided to spank the reader and really it’s just about arthur marveling over the readers ass?? love ur writing ❤️

Warning: Cursing, smut, butt grabbing, spanking, bondage.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: Sorry this took so long, hope you both enjoy!

The first time he noticed you looking was when the two of you were fishing on the lake near camp. It was a peaceful sunny day and the fish were biting good, you had already caught more than enough but the weather was so nice you decided to stay a little while longer.

He had bent down to pick up a large fish when he caught a glimpse of you blatantly staring at his ass. When you saw he had noticed you just smiled casually like nothing was wrong and looked back over the lake. 

He caught you staring a few times after that, it confused him a little but he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered by the attention. But when it escalated to you full-on grabbing his ass he had to ask you what the hell you were doing.

“Sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?” You teased after he questioned you, smiling innocently.

“No, not at all. But I don’t know, uh, why-”

You cut him off. “You’ve got a nice ass. And don’t act like it’s weird, I’ve seen you looking at mine before.”

He furrowed his brows and thought. “Yeah, well, that’s different.” 

You placed a hand on your hip and smirked at him. “Is it? How?”

Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. Was it really all that different? Did women like that about men? His whole life he hadn’t even considered that to be an attractive male quality, he mostly thought it was the normal stuff such as muscle, his face, his facial hair, etc. But his ass? He never even thought about that.

Throughout the week your advances became more up-front. You’d made a few comments here and there, even pinning him against the wagon when he was lifting up a box of canned food so you could squeeze his ass with both your hands. 

Finally, he had enough of it. You were staying up at a nice hotel in Saint Denis when he snapped. You had made a comment about him having the ass of a god and he turned around and pushed you onto the bed. 

“Holy shit.” You laughed nervously when you regained your sense of balance, sitting up. “Was it something I said?”

“Damn right it was.” His voice was different then, you could tell he wanted to fuck you because that’s how he sounded when he was horny. He walked over to you and grabbed you by your knees, yanking you towards him at the edge of the bed. 

You let out a squeak of surprise at the roughness of his actions. Arthur had never manhandled you before, he was always so gentle and careful with you. This was a whole new side of him you’d never witnessed before. 

“I’ve never met a girl who liked that part of me before.” He started speaking, choosing his words carefully since he still felt strange about talking about it. It felt the same to him as a foot fetish would feel to someone who’d never heard of it before.

You were going to speak but he continued talking. “I gotta admit, you’ve been getting on my nerves lately. What you been doin’ isn’t somethin’ you can just surprise someone with. How’d you like it if I came up to you in camp and did this?”

He palmed you through your pants, his fingers massaging your clit through the fabric. Oh, well, when he put it that way… 

When you moaned and laid back down he grinned, taking his hat off to throw on the floor. “Not so funny now, huh girl?” 

You didn’t realize you’d been getting him horny every time you touched him. You thought he found it funny or even awkward, the fact that it turned him on was a shock to you. “Sorry, Arthur.” You breathed and opened your eyes to look at him. He looked ready to tear your clothes off and fuck you into oblivion. 

He shook his head and hummed. “No, not good enough.” With quick and rough hands he yanked your pants down to your knees, almost pulling you off the bed. You helped him by kicking your legs and they slid right off. “Now, (Y/N).” He muttered as he unbuckled his belt, looking down at your form on the bed in front of him. 

Your breathing quickened as you watched him take his belt off. “Yes?”

He grabbed your hands and looped the belt around your wrists, flipping you over to tie them behind your back. The sudden change in positions caught you off guard and you gasped. 

“You know I’m a firm believer in an eye for an eye.” He pulled your panties down your legs, not even bothering with your shirt. It was only a night-shirt anyways, he could practically see through the soft fabric. 

“And as much as I’d love to leave you here, as wet as you are…” Jesus Christ, who was this man? This couldn’t be your Arthur, no way. 

The air felt cold on your bare ass and legs, even colder on your pussy since you were already so wet. You wished he would fuck you already. The fact that he tied your hands behind your back was still so stunning to you, bondage was something he’d never even talked about. So where did this come from?

“I’m not a patient man when it comes to you.” He completed and ran his hands up your legs, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs before doing the same to your ass. He squeezed each cheek firmly in his hands, spreading them a bit so he could see how wet you were. He cursed and shook his head, letting out a whistle. “If only I had my lasso, I’d love to see you hogtied naked.”

You shivered at his words, a wave of pleasure rippling through your walls sending more cum to prepare you. You loved how eager your body was, you never failed to get wet enough for him. There was never any time where he had to use spit or oil, your body was so attracted to him that your cum alone was more than enough to last you hours.

Arthur was silent for a minute, confusing you. You opened your mouth to ask him what was up but he suddenly smacked your ass, causing you to cry out. “Oh my god!” 

“Too much?” He asked and rubbed the area he had smacked, successfully easing the irritation.

“No, do it again. Please.” 

He grinned and raised his hand again, making you wait a few seconds before he finally spanked you. 

You squealed and threw your head to the side so you could get the hair out of your face. “Harder, come on, you’re holding back on me Arthur. I’ve seen you lift a deadweight black bear, I know you can do better than that.”

Arthur paused and bit his lip, considering what you said. There was no way he could hit you like that. “(Y/N),” He muttered cautiously and adjusted the front of his jeans. 

You looked at him as best as you could from your position. “I can take it.”

He shook his head and sighed. He knew there was no way you could, you were asking for something you’d regret. He spanked you again, only a little harder than the last. You made sweet noises and he applied more and more force until he was sure any more would seriously hurt you. If he did any more your skin would get too raw and you’d get blisters. By sparing you that painful process he hoped you’d thank him later.

Soon he couldn’t wait anymore. His cock ached from the lack of attention so he pulled his jeans off and climbed on the bed behind you. You felt his knees on either side of your thighs and you waited as he took the rest of his clothes off. Just as you were about to see what was taking so long he grabbed your knees and spread your legs. You panted in anticipation, you were so ready for him you had made a wet spot on the sheets under your hips.

Arthur lifted your bound arms off your back so he could guide himself inside you. As soon as the tip of his cock touched your lips the both of you moaned. It had been so long since you wanted to fuck him this bad. Your clit was throbbing and burning, so when he finally pushed inside you the tension released and you came.

The feeling of your wet and hot walls clenching around his cock almost made him finish then and there. He could tell he wasn’t going to last long. The foreplay before was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, there was no way he’d last more than a few minutes.

He fucked you fast and hard, pounding into you with a force that made it hard for you to breathe. You couldn’t catch your breath so you had to settle for quick short gasps. 

You didn’t think you had another orgasm in you, but sure enough, Arthur fucked one out of you. You pushed your ass up to meet his hips and he cursed, grabbing hold of your hips to hold you still. As you came he hammered into you like his life depended on it. 

His orgasm was sudden and long, he managed to draw it out for longer than usual by burying himself balls deep inside of you. Once you finished your orgasm your body fell limp in his grasp. 

“Son of a bitch.” Arthur breathed and pulled out, falling beside you on the bed. The two of you were in the exact same state, hearts pounding, covered in sweat, lungs struggling to replenish the oxygen you’d lost. 

Once you were able to talk you thanked him for not hitting you as hard as you asked. “I don’t know what came over me to lead me to believe I could handle that.” You laughed as he freed your hands. 

Arthur snorted and nodded, watching as you rubbed your wrists. “Yeah, figured you were just talkin’ nonsense.” 

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, processing the amazing sex you just had. Your clit was still throbbing from all the blood that had rushed to it. “Well, maybe I can spank you next.” You teased and leaned over to kiss his cheek. 

“Now, we’ll have to talk about that.”

[night-filled-mountain]

For the Hozier ask thing: No Plan, Be, Talk

- No Plan - Do you believe in a pre-determined purpose in life?

No, but I think it can be helpful–for some people!–to think and act like you have a pre-determined purpose, as long as you’re not too rigid about it. Sometimes the random twists and turns of life just get overwhelming, you know? And you need to weave them into some sort of pattern–“A, B, and C all happened in order to lead me to D,” or “Despite X obstacle, I know I’m meant to accomplish Y.” Humans are pattern-finding creatures–that’s why we like stories so much. I can’t imagine getting through life without periodically making it into a story, whether you actually believe in some divine Plan and Author or not. (This is reminding me once again of that Brian W. Foster lyric I’ve become obsessed with: “And if it wasn’t designed, then I’ll be damned if I ever know why.”)

Though honestly, for me? The opposite is true. I’ve faced, and continue to face, so many mental-health barriers to having the kind of life I’d like to have, and I’ve fought (and continue to fight!) such a harrowing, hard-scrabble fight to make that life happen anyway. It’s a massive struggle, it’s ongoing, it’s every day. It’s exhausting and humiliating and entirely without dignity. So the thing that I like to tell myself about the life I want? Is that I wasn’t meant to have it. Some particularly nasty gods have played a trick on me since birth, crafting a person for whom friends/romance/productive work/artistic fulfillment/Happiness are impossible–and day after day, I’m fighting them, trying to prove them wrong. Clawing and biting at them with everything I have in me. Forcing my way out of their boxes, grasping at what I want, and spitting in their eye for good measure.

I’m sure my preference for this narrative says something about me as a person, but I leave that up to you, anon!

- Be - Have you changed much as a person in the last year? 

…I literally don’t know where to start.

In August 2018, I wasn’t married yet. I lived in a small town in New Jersey with my parents and sister, and was desperately terrified of moving (permanently) anywhere else. I had completed two master’s degrees just a few months before, but I’d never had a full-time job, and I was 250% convinced (for the aforementioned mental-health reasons, and a chronic physical illness to boot!) that I could never, ever have one. Oh, and I’d just gotten back from a visit to my former roommate (which remains the last time I saw her, not counting Skype), and I was suffering constant agony over the intense, passionate, mutually pining, emotionally needy, co-dependent mess that was that relationship.

And now?

I’m married. I live in Boston, in an apartment where I’ve paid 100% of the rent for the past six months (though that will soon be changing!). I have a full-time job that has challenged and transformed me in ways that I could not possibly have imagined six months ago. Like…literally could not have fathomed. Outside the scope of my brainpower. Beyond my wildest dreams.

I’m the head of my department…because I’m the entire department. I do heavy-duty customer service. I interact with dozens of strangers every day–children, teens, and adults–and I usually do it without a whisper of social anxiety. I pick up my desk phone when it rings. I make phone calls when I have to. I send and receive dozens of e-mails a week. I manage a budget! I place orders! I schedule programs! I answer reference questions! I operate and troubleshoot various forms of technology constantly, and teach others how to use them. I reason with, joke with, assist, educate, entertain, chastise, and discipline 20+ rowdy teenagers ON A DAILY BASIS. There have been many days, and once an entire week, when I was literally in charge of my entire workplace and everyone in it. And it was all still functioning when my boss got back.

…And it’s actually really timely that I should write about all this now, because I’m smack-dab in the middle of an extremely daunting work task, one that’s causing my ADD to kick my ass to hell and back. And I’ve spent the past few days wondering just how fucking desperate this place must have been to hire someone who’s been wretchedly sobbing over her utter lack of focus and organizational skills for almost 30 years. So it’s…quite the morale-booster to look at these paragraphs about just how goddamn far I’ve come in a year.

…Also, Ex-Roommate and I have gone no-contact, and most days, I don’t think about her. And if I do, it doesn’t hurt so much.

- Talk - What’s your best friend like? 

I have three (3) best friends, and they are MY WORLD, so get ready for this.

(1.) My husband. We’ll call him Kit, which is, in fact, a name he often goes by. He is a Gemini, which I mention only because he’s a very classic Gemini: bursting with curiosity, interested in everything, with a dizzying array of hobbies and interests that seem to change and shift by the moment. He teaches science, and used to teach history. He loves camping, sea shanties, Lawrence of Arabia, board games, and tabletop RPGs. Being a teacher, he’s had the summer off, and he’s spent it being a house-husband: cleaning our apartment, buying all the groceries, doing my laundry an embarrassing number of times, and cooking me dinner every single night. He loves being useful to people and making people happy. He’s terrific at long-term planning, but has no sense of time, and he’d be late to everything without my intervention. We have separate bedrooms, and mine is obsessively neat, and his is…not. He was once bitten by a squirrel that he was hand-feeding on the Boston Common. A few days later, he received a serious electric shock from a string of Christmas lights, and the bandage he’d placed over the squirrel bite was burned black instead of his hand. This perfect balance of cursed and blessed is, in a way, all you really need to know about Kit.

We love to watch movies and TV shows together and discuss/analyze them obsessively. We love to have looong philosophical discussions and/or debates. We take walks, we get Italian food and/or ice cream far too often, we go on jolly road-trip adventures, and we read out loud to each other. He’s currently reading me Charles Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend, which I have read before (twice) and he has not, because I love it so intensely, and I know that he will too. He’s the best person on earth to discuss virtually anything with, to be honest. He’s my DM in the best D&D campaign I’ve ever been part of. I’ve just made a new D&D character, although I don’t have a campaign for her yet, and Kit cannot stop lavishing praise on her and getting excited about her…even though she’s a hobgoblin, and he spent a significant portion of a recent car ride passionately arguing with me about the viability of hobgoblins as player characters.

He is absolutely extraordinary at admitting when he’s wrong, owning it fully, changing his opinions, pursuing personal growth, and just becoming a better and better person all the time. And I’m so damn honored that I get to be here for it.

(2.) We’ll call my second best friend Unicorn, which is a multilayered inside joke.

I met Unicorn during my freshman year of college. We lived on the same floor. I was the odd woman out among my suitemates because I had crippling social anxiety; he was the odd man out among his because he was gay. Somehow we started watching movies and TV shows together, and it became our Thing; I think our current marathon record is six or seven movies in a row. We’re both from New Jersey, and he still lives there, and there are few places in the world I feel safer than on his giant couch, in front of his giant TV, with snacks and glasses of Limeade close at hand, and his neurotic little dog nosing about. He has a pool, a massive movie collection, and an encyclopedic knowledge of state politics, because he works as a full-time environmental canvasser. His hours are absolutely terrifying, as are the physical and social demands of his job, but he still finds time to run a D&D campaign for his coworkers, and to visit the rest of us in Boston at every possible opportunity.

Unicorn is barely a month older than I am (a fellow Leo, though I think it suits him a hell of a lot better than it suits me), and he understands me in specific ways that the other two members of our little quartet just can’t. We get each other’s humor, we have similar tastes in men, we both love to swim. When the four members of our found family are all together, he is invariably the only person who notices all my little puns and innuendos, and laughs every time.  He listens to me, and asks me questions, in a way that no one else in the world quite seems to do. He made a speech at my wedding that reduced me to a blubbering mess. And, most importantly of all: He started inviting me to our college’s LGBT group when we were juniors (right after Kit and I started dating), which was how I met my third best friend, and how we all became a family.

(3.) I’m going to refer to Best Friend #3 as “Dragon,” because…he loves dragons, and because he was Unicorn’s roommate when I first met him, and it keeps the mythological-creature theme going. …And once again, I don’t know where to start, so I’m going to go dig up an old post I made about Dragon, copy and paste it below, and then figure out how to elaborate on someone who both my husband and I have identified as the best human being we have ever met.

This is a friend who invites the whole gang of us to his apartment for entire long weekends, and cooks for us, repeatedly. Who hosts “fake Christmas” every year, complete with a tree decorated with blue and silver ornaments because he is Jewish, and made all of us hand-stitched, personalized stockings, and fills them with gifts and sweets purchased specially for each of us. Who once baked me a cake just because I was coming to visit him. Who organized and directed my entire move from New Jersey to Boston because his Tetris-like car-packing skills and his utter laidback unshakable calm in the face of any task are absolutely unparalleled. Who is a goddamn wizard at literally everything, from cooking and baking and sewing to Photoshop and graphic design to painting D&D miniatures to putting together elaborate cosplays to theater tech to writing and research to courageous and tireless activism to law (did I mention he’s a lawyer?).

…That was my old paragraph, so let me add a few things. I can’t emphasize enough how much he carries that aura of calm and kindness and competence about him at all times. Never in my life had I had a cooking/baking experience that didn’t stress me out until Dragon let me help him make an entire dinner and various desserts for our friend group, and it was just…so chill. So well-organized and perfectly timed, but without ever feeling like those things took any effort whatsoever. He was so kind and patient with me, demonstrating each task step by step, then being entirely confident in my ability to perform said tasks, and never trying to nitpick at the way I did them or take them over himself. Part of his job involves teaching, and I know he must be fantastic at it, because no one else has ever been such a soothing balm and a stimulant (both at once, somehow!) to my poor, tormented ADD brain. Someday (maybe soonish!), our whole found family is going to live together, and the thought of being around Dragon all the time just makes me weep with joy. And did I mention his sweet, child-like enthusiasm for holiday celebrations and ghost tours and spooky TV shows and musicals and fantasy novels and text RP and all other Best Things? (Ok, he also loves dogs and Marvel movies, and I love neither, but I forgive him for this.)

Oh, he also officiated my wedding. And he also had top surgery today, and I have maybe never been this happy about anything ever, what an auspicious day to finish this post!

[shenanigans-academia]

Summer Training Camp Arc/ Rescue Bakugo/ The End of All Might

Episode 39: Game Start

•the fact that Denki and Mineta physically went to Mido’s house to invite him to the pool is actually kinda cute. Too bad they have creepy intentions

•Momo:”Aw I was supposed to spend several weeks traveling Venice with my parents”

Uraraka: “WHAT is YoUr LiFE??” I feel you girl

•Mineta/Denki:”TheRe’S BoObS At tHe End Of ThiS TuNnEL”

Iida-Absolute Unit-Tenya:”HELLO FELLOW CLASSMATES”

•Iida is built like a fucking TANK what the heck but why the fuck are you walking like that Iida lmao

•Iida talking about how far he and Izuku have come as friends, I’m soft

•Kiri refusing to come without Bakubabe convincing Bakugo to join then looking so defeated when he immediately starts picking a fight I can’t with these two

•”friendly competition between classmates” cuts to Bakugou looking possessed before saying “I’m going to annihilate you Deku/ Icy Hot Bastard” bruh do you have an off switch or at least take it down like 20 notches you’re exhausting

•”YOU DIDNT EVEN TOUCH THE WATER”

“ITS CALLED FREE STYLE SWIMMING”

•Lmao the whole class is cheating

•I love how it just cut to a dramatic montage of TodoDeku moments while Sho can’t take his eyes off Mido WHY THEY ALL SO INTENSE FOR YOURE 15 HANGING OUT AT A POOL DURING THE SUMMER WHY ARE YOU GUYS ALWAYS ON

•Mido/Todo/Iida all just staring at each other intensely having their own inner montages. Literally anybody watching them “...are they okay?”

•Aizawa you party pooper

•I’m sorry but Kirishima is so in love and no one can tell me other wise no I do not take constructive criticism

•Okay that end montage is so fucking pure I’m. So. Soft

Episode 40: Wild, Wild Pussycats

•Kirishima “can’t keep my hands to myself/off Bakugo Katsuki” Eijirou

•Class 1B to anybody they meet: “we’re sorry about Monoma”

•Aizawa loves his class can’t you tell

•”Long time no see” Aizawa’s a cutie

•Lmao KOTA the first of Mido’s adopted kids

•These poor fucking kids can’t catch a fucking BREAK

•Koda tried and I love him

•Kiri’s heart eyes are so LOUD

•I love when they all work together

•”YOURE IN MY WAY ICY HOT”

“Then pick another route” Todoroki doesn’t have time for your tantrums Kacchan

•These poor kids

•Kota went for the KO

•”YOU FIEND OF A CHILD. GEEZ KID HOW OLD ARE YOU”

•”Brats got spunk”

“He’s like a mini version of you “

He’s right and should say it

•Mineta needs a muzzle

•The boys are all like we’re just as curious to see the girls but Mineta needs to calm down 300%

•Kota to the rescue!

•IIDA GOT A FACEFUL OF MiNETA ASS HE DIDNT DESERVE THAT AGSFJSHHSJXG

•Mina almost killed a child with her boobs I’m dead and so is Kota

•I’m sorry but it’s both funny and weird that Midoriya is just naked while being told this child’s tragic backstory

•Aizawa you are actively trying to kill your students aren’t you just admit it

Episode 41: Kota

•Testutestu is such a good boy

•Good training idea according to UA Teachers: Break yourselves or else you’re weak. Just fucking die then you can be heroes

•Tiger is amazing “I’m here to beat you guys to a pulp”

“I have some questions about him...” ME TOO RANDOM CLASS 1B STUDENT BUT I LOVE HIM

•Iida tries so hard

•Momo explains how her quirk works: smart and precise description

Sero Fucking Hanta: “like how poop works” BRUH

•This kid is literally just a mini Kacchan

•I’m sorry but Mido why would you ask a small child who you’re trying to befriend about their murdered parents like what part in your mind made you think that was a good idea

•Mina And Bakugo sleep the same way, starfish style, I love them. But who the FUCK is sleeping under a bunch of pillows off their mattress on the straight floor with their butt in the air (I bet money it’s Kaminari)

•everyone complaining about training in the dark:

Tokoyami: ”Revelry in the Dark”

•Kirishima’s too tired to deal with his angry boyfriend

•Todoroki trying to help Midoriya with Kota “be careful what you say, you can be really annoying” he’s trying

•Tokoyami constantly whispering “Revelry in the Dark” to himself is the FUNNIEST thing to me I love you, you emo punk

•It Dabi Time

Episode 42: My Hero

•these poor fucking kids I swear

•”we want our treat Mr. Aizawa”

“Do you want me to tighten your bindings?”

Oooh Kinky Bad Aizawa akshdhbekal

•MONOMA SHUT UP

•Spinner is a long lost Ninja Turtle Brother change my mind

•”DIDNT ANYBODY TELL YOU ITS NOT A HEROES JOB TO BE HAPPY” clearly

•I respect Testutestu so much

•This muscley villain is Bakugo’s real dad and nobody can tell me other wise

•Okay that fucking Bondage villain is genuinely terrifying

•KOTA BABY STAY BACK P L E A S E

•it’s been X amount of days since breaking my bones- erases whatever number was there and puts a fat zero MIDORIYA YOU WERE DOING SO WELL but for this we will make an exception I guess

•oh my fucKING GOD KOTA JUST R U N

•Mido really thought he was gonna die holy FUCK

•”One For All One Million Percent” MIDORIYA YOU CANT EVEN HANDLE 5% BABY BOY WHAT IS YOU DOIN

Episode 43: Drive It Home, Iron Fist

•Shiggy thinking in Video Games format is honestly so on brand

•Mido is FUCKED UP right now poor boy

•”We’re in big trouble” YEAH NO SHIT ERASURE

•BAMF Aizawa is my reason for living

•Okay I forgot how much I love Twice

•Aizawa seeing Izuku’s broken bones: ”AGAIN???”

•Kota’s precious and I LOVE DADZAWA

•KIRI’S SO UPSET THAT THAT THE VILLAINS ARE HERE FOR BAKUGO IM SOBBING

•”Teachers changing their minds about fighting, why do I feel like this is Deku’s fault” BAKUGO SHUT UP YOU HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT RIGHT NOW YOU DICKHEAD

•TESTUTESTU IS SUCH A GOOD BOY

•DUDE BROUGHT A FUCKING GUN TO A CAMP I FORGOT ABOUT THAT HOLY SHIIIITTT

•CLASS 1B MVPS KENDO AND TESTU MOTHERFUCKING TESTU

•Midoriyas doing a Naruto run because his arms are fucking broken I’m crying

•Tokoyami, Dark Shadow And Shouji IM READY

Episode 44: Roaring Upheaval

•Tokoyami tries so hard to be good I love him

•WE! DESERVE! SO! MUCH! MORE! SHOUJI!

•Yami is so emo And is just such a Good Boi AH

•Scared Bakugo is Baby

•Honestly they’re all Baby

•Toga:”I love messed up bleeding people”

Mido: shows up completely broken

Toga:”Mr. Stainy who? I want that one”

•Aoyama would be the kid who gets caught in hide and seek because they think they have a great spot and can’t be seen and try to peek them convince themselves still nobody saw them in plain sight

•Awase was fully prepared to die protecting Momo I’m CRYING he’s my new favorite

•Battle Plan Mastermind Mido is amazing

•Also poor unconscious kid just being dragged behind Uraraka haha

Episode 45: Shat A Twist!

•Kiri: “I cant let them take my boyfriend” poor boy just wants to help so bad

•Whelp nobody is safe

•LMAO Aizawa just stomping on Fake Dabi has me dying

•Shouto how long has it been since you last saw your brother...?

•Shouji SMACK A BITCH Mezo

•I LOVE SHOUJI

•Compress you freak get those kids out of your mouth ya nasty

•AOYAMA YES

•Dabi stop being a dick to your little brother I’m gonna tell Rei

•Kirishima is so upset AND IM UPSET MY BABIES

•These kids just wanted a fun week at camp LEAVE THEM ALONE THEYRE 15

•...Mic...is the traitor...

•I love how everybody hates All Might’s ringtone lmao

•All Might’s like only Us teachers are allowed to beat our kids to a pulp in order to better them as heroes y’all are just mean

•I know Mitsuki has just a bad a temper as her son but how do you think she reacted finding out her child was the kidnap victim of a villain attack? No matter what you think of her as a parent, that’s still her kid and she must have been devastated. But just like Katsuki she would never admit it to his face

•Precious Boy Denki And Class 1A coming to visit their hurt friends I love this class so much

•”I brought a present! I mean it’s from everyone. It’s a melon!” Okay that was pretty cute

•Kirishima being like “why is everyone crying we’re going to go get him let’s go gays time to get our Gremlin back”

•Kiri:”he’s still within your reach Midoriya!”

Mido:”...my arms are BUSTED my dude nothing is in my reach right now I’m still gonna come tho”

Episode 46: From Iida to Midoriya

•Kirishima is THE Best Boi I love him so fucking much I would die for him

•Iida’s trying his best not to blow a gasket

•”Hysterical Strength” yeah sounds like Deku

•”Go home and take it easy” lmao have you met this kid?

•Kota is so freaking sweet

•Izuku. Go see your mother

•Iida’s got some good points. I’m including that punch to Midoriya

•Bakugo must be so tired of being tied up and restrained you know he doesn’t have bondage kink later on in life just hits too close to trauma

•Kiri’s constant state of mind: WWBD (WHAT Would Bakugo Do)

•Mido: Stealth Mode=Wakanda Forever

•Iida has the best costume this is not up for debate. I also always forget he has an undercut, we Stan an icon

•”So the rich girl just wants to go shopping” I’m crying

•Clean Shaven/Neat Hair Aizawa? Hell to the fucking Yes Please

•I’m genuinely proud of Bakugo and the fact that he knows that he’s intense and scares a lot of people/ how he comes across is aggressive and almost villain like, he adamantly doesn’t want to be a villain even if everyone just assumes he would be. He wants to be a hero. Whatever it takes

Episode 47: All For One

•Rightful shoutout to Kendo and Testu

•”We are offering mental health counseling to every single student but right now we do not see signs of any serious psychological trauma” Nezu I’m sorry but those kids are officially fucked up for life you can’t be serious

•”what if they’re brainwashing young Bakugo right now towards the path of villainy” leave Bakugo ALONE

•Aizawa is like you come for my angry son I come for your throat try me again bitch

•FERAL GREMLIN BOY FIGHT OR FIGHT MODE ACTIVATED Bakugo has no flight mode only fight

•Mido: Incoherent mumbling

Momo:“this is peak Midoriya” I love how they’re just used to him now

•the boys are just like you’re not touching our friend you drunk creeps

•Kirishima came PREPARED to get his boy back I love him

•Bakugo just take the help you prideful little shit

•Okay Edgeshot is great where has he been all this time

•Annndddd it all went to shit so fast

•oh my god Best Jeanist is fuckin dead

Episode 48: Symbol of Peace

•”You won’t escape Shigaraki” umm so how’d that work out for ya All Might?

•Kamui Woods “IM SO SORRY” poor boy

•Talking to Best Jeanist:”consider me...pressed” All For One got jokes huh

•...yeah no BJ REALLY Fuckin Ded

•These kids are so fucking traumatized

•A WILD BAKUGOU APPEARS

•Twice has big Deadpool energy tbh

•Lmao Iida has had enough

•Mom and Dad of group award goes to Iida and Momo

•All For One: asks Kurogiri to help warp the League

Also All For One: Stabs him while doing it

•”I don’t think so. Because... I Am Here!” All For One really said Fuck All Might

•All these kids think in Video Game Lmao

•I know there’s a lot of commotion happening but I definitely feel like the villains would be able to hear them talking

•Midoriya went to Kirishima like time to get your asshole boyfriend back you lovesick fool

•”YOU IDIOTS” you’re smiling because your friends are here you jerk

•Everyone’s so intense then Kiri-fucking-shima is there smiling like an idiot because BAKUGO’S BACK

•ALL MIGHT ALL MIGHT ALL MIGHT ALL MIGHT

•...I always forget Shiggy’s familial lineage and it’ makes me sad every time

•I love this episode so MUCH

Episode 49: One For All

•YOUNG MIGHT

•Nana Shimura looks just like Momo...Todoroki Secret Lovechild Theories Intensifies

•”YOU GUYS DIDN’T RESCUE ME YOU WERE MY BEST ESCAPE ROUTE”

“You’re welcome!”

Oh Bakugo just say thank you

•...soooo many people died in Camino Ward, man...

•Aizawa looks so young

•ALL THE KIDS WATCHING THEIR TEACHER AND HERO GET BEATEN TO A PULP HORRIFYINGLY IM SO UPSET

•All For One really just pulled an “I am your father” move but with Shiggy and Nana that’s messed up

•THE PEOPLE RALLYING BEHIND ALL MIGHT IM SOBBING YALL

•NOW IS NOT THE TIME ENDEAVOR

•THERE WE GO THATS BETTER

•Everyone loves All Might I’m so soft

•I’m genuinely crying guys

•...can everyone hear All For One talking about Midoriya oorrrrr???

•All Might you’re pulling a Deku pleaSE STOP

•United States of Smash I cant

•Kirishima really tried holding Bakugo’s hand YALL

•...Bakugo knows

•I love this episode too I’m so upset

Episode 50: End of the Beginning, Beginning of the End

•Gran Torino explaining why they didn’t know about Shimura’s family/Shigaraki is. Sad

•Bakugo is traumatized someone please help him

•Endeavor and Bakugo are the same person and I hate it

•Midoriya and All Might running to each other on the beach is big Marty and Alex from Madagascar energy I’m cackling

•PROUD DADMIGHT MAKES ME SOFT YOU’RE BOTH CRYING AND I AM S O F T

• PARENT TIME YES

•Jirou’s parents are so cool, Kyoka’s so cool THE JIROUS ARE SO COOL

•Oh my god the Bakugos are so CHAOTIC

•It all makes so much sense why he is the way he is and it’s all. Too much. Poor Katsuki

•He’s so. Tired. You can tell. I just want to give him a hug

•”Be CoOl MoM” Izu you’re just as tense and you’ve been with All Might for literally HOW LONG???

•Mama Midoriya is. Right. But that sucks for Izuku

•This is. So. Emotional

Last part of Season 3 is next. DORM LIFE BABY just a little less angst thank god these kids need a break

[purplesurveys]

568

Have you ever had a really bad haircut? I haven’t had any truly awful ones. The only time I felt ‘meh’ about a haircut was when I went to the salon on my own and told the hairdresser what I wanted myself. I was never good at that kind of stuff, and always prefer being with someone so they can tell me if I’m headed somewhere good or otherwise. Did you ever order any clothes from the Alloy catalogue? I’ve never heard of that. What brand, color, and type is your favorite eyeliner? I’ve only ever used eyeliner at one point in my life and I’ve forgotten every detail about it. It was black, though. Do you wear eyeliner? I used to. I wanted to look nice post-breakup, so I learned how to do makeup to feel good about myself. Was there ever a time in your life when you couldn't cry? I guess when I have HAD to cry in the past, as in for a skit, I couldn’t. But I can be triggered and cry very easily otherwise.

What's your favorite type of yogurt? I hate yogurt, I hate everything that’s sour (except for sour tapes, but even those I can only handle at a certain level of sourness haha). What posters did you have on your wall as a teenager? Wrestling. My mom took them down for no reason eventually, even though I loved having them up on my wall. What are your favorite type of calendars? I mean I don’t obsess over calendars enough to have a favorite type? so a digital one on my phone and laptop is fine with me. I do sometimes wish I was rich enough just to be able to spend on those novelty calendars with Audrey Hepburn photos and Monet paintings in every month, though. Do you have a full-length mirror? I used to but it got transferred to my sister’s room. I don’t mind it though; I don’t use mirrors all that much. When was the last time you bought stamps? Elementary school, probably. Do you have any overdue library books right now? HAH, yes I do actually. It was a book I needed to do a Powerpoint on, and I completely forgot that its due date was on the 4th. The fee is like ₱2/day so I’ll have to pay around ₱8 to ₱10 by next week, depending on when I’ll feel like returning the book. How often do you do laundry? I don’t; my mom prefers to do it herself. Do you have a piggy bank? Maybe as a kid, but I never took it seriously because I didn’t sit well with the fact that I couldn’t see the money I’ve been saving. I’ve stuck with a good old wallet ever since, just so I can know my progress. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? I don’t, actually. I wonder what numbers I used to secure my locks :o What's your favorite DIY crafts youtube channel? Aren’t a lot of those misleading and downright fake? Could you spend hours on pinterest? I’ve never spent more than five minutes at one time on that website/app. Do you own plaid pants? Nah, it’s not really my style. Have you ever had to wear a school uniform? I had to wear my school’s uniform for 14 straight years. All I ever wore Monday through Friday for that span of time. What was your high school's mascot? We don’t have a mascot; we just have school colors. What were your high school's team colors? Gold, white, blue. Who were your best friends in high school? Angela, Gabie, Athenna, and Sofie. Others I was close with were Chelsea, Kaira, and Fern. Who was your first boyfriend or girlfriend? Gab. Have you ever been to Chicago? Nope but it’s a dream. If yes, what do you like best about it? The FOOD, the culture, the museums. Have you ever stayed in a hostel? Nope, never been. Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom. I wouldn’t like sleeping somewhere that felt unnatural, and lying down way high from the floor is definitely one of those things. Do you love camping? I’ve never tried, so I don’t know. Would you rather sleep in a tent or under the stars? Lie under the stars for as long as I can, then pass out in a tent. What insects are you afraid of? Cockroaches. Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I haven’t. Are you close with your cousins? I have a good relationship with most of my cousins, mom’s side; but I’m especially close with my eldest cousin, who I essentially view as my older brother. I’m so-so with cousins on my dad’s side - we were very close as kids, but they moved further to the south and I never really get to see them anymore, so we grew more shy as the years passed.  Are you close to any aunts or uncles? I love my mom’s cousins; they’re all younger than her and they’re mostly late Gen X-ers so they’re more hip and cool hahaha. I wouldn’t say we’re close but they are definitely much easier to talk to than other older relatives. Are you close to your grandparents? I seldom get to see my paternal grandparents because they live with the ^ same cousins I’ve since grown quite distant from, so I wouldn’t say I’m close to them but of course I love them all the same. I was very close with my maternal grandfather when he was still alive as I always knew what to do to make him laugh; and I am also crazy for my maternal grandmother, although in the last few years she’s been all about Jesus so sometimes it gets a little draining hearing about how I should always pray and that “God can answer all [my] problems.” Still love her loads, though. Who betrayed your trust? A friend did, many years ago. Who was your first best friend (apart from a sibling)? Bold of you to assume a sibling was my first best friend, because you’re wrong lol. I’d consider this girl we calle Kaye the first one; we were class number buddies in Kinder 1 (I was 4, she was 5) so we got close quickly. She changed schools by Grade 1 and I haven’t talked to her since, but I still remember her fondly. What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? I was never allowed at sleepovers when I was a kid. What kind of popcorn is your favorite? Sweet-flavored ones. I could never take dry-ass plain/salted popcorn. It has to be something like salted caramel or parmesan. Does your town have a big fountain in it? If we do have one, I’ve never seen it. But I’m pretty sure we don’t. What is your town known for? For being on a mountain and being ridiculously hard to get to because 1) of its winding, accident-prone roads, and 2) IT’S ON A MOUNTAIN. I live in the area of Antipolo just before you start to go up, so I don’t get offended much by the complaints of everyone else; but I’m in solidarity nonetheless with the ~mountain-dwellers~ just because I used to go to school in upper Antipolo. Do you currently live in the city you grew up in? I mostly grew up in Antipolo, so yes I still live here. I did live in Manila in my early childhood but that time was much shorter than the time I’ve spent in my current city. What's one way in which you're behind the times? I hate Minecraft and I hate Fortnite even more. What's one way in which you're still a child? I love coloring books :) What's one way in which you're old? I have a bad back. Do you feel old or young? Or do you feel both at different times? Definitely feel a bit of both, depending on my mood. The perfect example could be that I can be annoyed seeing younger kids make so much noise, but the next day I can be exactly like those kids making a bunch of noise with my friends. How old are you? I am 21. Do you know what you want to do for your next birthday? No, not yet. Quite early to think about at this point, really. If yes, what is it? A private dinner would already sound perfect. What is the last new thing you discovered that was really good? Vaping. I mean don’t try it if you haven’t already, but yeah. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Tbh if my mom came home carrying a box of Yellow Cab pizza. AKA something that would NEVER happen; she snobs Yellow Cab cos she thinks they’re too expensive for pizza. Do you usually forgive when someone hurts your or try to get revenge? I get my revenge, subtly. Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? Our subject Language, which was mandatory back in elementary school, was literally basic English grammar. Not everyone in my former school spoke fluent English so a lot of them weren’t all that good at the subject; but for people like me who had a solid grasp of English and read a lot to begin with, the class was basically a breather from the other more difficult classes. If so, what? ^ I already told ya all about it. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? Skipping grades isn’t a thing in my former school which is honestly a good thing for me cos it would have bred a lot of competition. But students would have to repeat a level if their grades showed that they had to; I wasn’t one of them. What time of day were you born? 9:11 in the evening. What is the best hairstyle you've ever had? I loved my layered hair like 10 years ago. It was probably the only time I did something to my hair that wasn’t just a trim, so I enjoyed that experience. I also liked cutting my hair way, way too short last year; it was a bold move but I liked how it look, as did everyone else. Do you think you look better with dyed hair or natural hair? I’ve never tried dyeing my hair so I wouldn’t know. Do you think your look better with curly hair or straight hair? Curly, I think. Do you have bangs? I have baby bangs but they’re just stubborn hair standing around my head lmao but no I don’t have actual bangs. Do you think you look better with bangs or without? I haven’t tried getting bangs as an adult. I did look cute with them as a toddler though :( Do you think you look better with long hair or short? Long. What's your favorite rock band? Paramore, if they still count. Who's your favorite country singer? None. Do you ever listen to Celtic music? No. Do you listen to Hillsong? No. Did you try the unicorn frappuccino, and if yes, were you a fan? No I never tried it. Have you ever won a contest? I won a school quiz bee and an essay writing contest before, but I wouldn’t call the latter legitimate. It was just a writing contest about wrestling held by a local TV station and the three best entries got to win WWE t-shirts haha. Have you ever wanted to be a model, actress, singer, or dancer? I wanted to be a model when I was like 12. No fucking clue what was going through my head at the time. When you look at your baby pictures, do you recognize yourself? Sure. Has your hair color changed since you were a toddler? Nope. Do you wear matching socks? Yes. How many drawers does your dresser have? Three. Do you own an American flag shirt? No thanks. Do you own a British flag shirt? I don’t. The Union Jack got overused by 2011 Tumblr, honestly. Do you have a seashell collection? I don’t. Aren’t we prohibited from getting those from beaches? That’s the case in the Philippines, anyway. Do you have a rock collection? I do not. Do you decorate for Halloween? We didn’t decorate the house but I celebrated it with friends this year. What is your favorite thing to do in the pool? Float around and relax. Flamingos or pineapples? ??? Flamingos, I guess? Cacti or seashells? Seashells. Maple tree or palm tree? Palm tree. Dreamcatcher or wind chimes? Dreamcatchers! Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? I probably have at few points. Do you have a crush right now? Yes. What color was your first car? My first and current car is white. Was your first car used or new? I’m actually not sure. It was my dad who purchased it. Do you have a car now? Yep. What color(s) eyeshadow do you wear the most? I never wear any.

[timotheetea]

Could you write a post "50 unusual facts about Timmy"?

Don’t know how ‘unusual’ these are, but here’s 50 facts/quotes:1. “To love someone is to become them, and that love is an act of empathy, and that to take on your [lover’s] name in an expression of love is to totally reveal yourself as a human being and to offer yourself as a compassionate lover and friend.” 2. “(Happiness is) that feeling of flow. I think you can accomplish flow doing anything, it can be stapling papers, it can be playing sport, it can be the way you drive a car. If you can achieve that kind of ow where it becomes mindless, sensory and instinctive – that’s happiness.” 3. He grew up in hell’s kitchen, Manhattan, 43th and ninth, in a 33-floor high-rise so close to the clouds that ”it felt like we were literally floating in the sky”. & “I grew up in this melting-pot of cultures in the 33th floor of a tower floating above the sky, and I felt like it let me be free to find myself.”4. Favourite actor: mainly he mentions Joaquin Phoenix, but one time he said it was Louis de Funès. 5. “This is the dream, to be at the forefront of any film… I get to be a part of something that is beyond any sort of acclaim, affecting people on a visceral level when they see it, or at least some members.”6. What does love feel like to you? “The definition changes by the day, and what I can think of today as far as what love is to me would be having the security to receive warmth.” 7. “I was in college for a little bit and it felt like a clear decision to not [finish]; it was scary because I didn’t want to rob myself of growing as a human. But it’s been the exact opposite: going from set to set, working with creative, open people, having mentors rooting for you. There’s education within that, I guess.”8. His father’s side of the family is from La Chambon-sur-Lignon and saint-Agréve in France 9. “I want to pursue other things creatively, not so much music, but definitely writing and directing. I’m going to be very, very patient about that. The dream as an actor is to be economically self-sustainable and what this year has been is beyond that now. I’m getting a creative license of sorts.” 10. How did your parents meet? “My father, who’s French, was on a business trip in New York for Le Parisien. He’s a journalist, who now works for the United Nations. My mom was a dancer, now she’s in the real estate business. I can’t tell if my sister and I feel more French or American. I stayed in New York while she’s been living in Paris for quite some time. I spent every summer in France until I was 15 years old, but New York is my home.”11. What do you read in your spare time, do you prefer essays or literature? “Literature. I’m currently obsessed with Russian authors. Tolstoj, but also Dostoevskij. Crime and Punishment is a gut punch.” Also he said he’s read Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Homer, and Lord Byron, books mentioned in Prodigal Son. About reading: “Maybe the deep narratives that comprise most books are really daunting.” 12. He’s really good at improv 13. Timothée Chalamet’s high-school drama teacher Mr. Shifman on the naturalism of his acting: “He just happened to come to my room for the callback audition, and I remember his audition because I gave him the highest score I’ve ever given a kid auditioning.” 14. He mentioned James White as his favourite film. 15. He watched interstellar 12 times.16. Blue Valentine is his favourite romantic film. 17. “I saw The Dark Knight when I was thirteen, before I applied for LaGuardia, and Heath Ledger made me want to act” in another interview: “When I was 12 years old I petitioned my mom and grandma to see Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight with me. I left that theatre a changed man. Heath Ledger’s performance in that film was visceral and viral to me. And I now had the acting bug.”18. His favourite reality tv show is I love New York 19. He said La La Land was so inspiring, it felt like an ode to his grandma’s life. 20. He wanted to be a famous footballer growing up. “I am French, after all.” & “I was a coach at a soccer camp in France. I coached 6 to 10-year-olds when I was around 13. I was good at it, but the pay was not acting money.” 21. Up until he was 15 he went to France in the summers to visit his father’s side of the family. 22. His sister Pauline is 26. 23. His great great grandparents were jewish immigrants who were fleeing prosecution. 24. His mom once called their family a ‘nuclear family’. 25. He’s got a turtle named ertle. 26. His parents have been married 32 years - I believe their anniversary is on October 13th. 27. His grandfather is Harold Flender, who wrote Rescue in Denmark28. He went to the elementary school ps87 29. He went to J.H.S. 54 Brooker T. Washington on the upper west side which he called a “miserable, miserable 3 years” 30. His old roommates were Giullian Gioiello and Kristina Reyes 31. He once said about his high school LaGuardia: “Truthfully I went because I thought there’d be less academic work!” 32. “I naturally have a me-against-the-world mentality and I’ve been fighting it since I was 13. It’s felt like it’s only gotten me in lonely, angry places.”33. He studied Cultural Anthropology at Columbia University. He said about Columbia: “I felt like I was another product on the factory line.“ 34. He used to live in the Bronx on the Grand Concourse 35. “Fourteen was the worst year of my life. Sixteen was the worst year of my life. Seventeen, 18 and 19 were pretty bad, too, but 15 was excellent for me. I know what the “special, beautiful room in hell” means. It just speaks to John’s genius in seeing the world through the eyes of this age.” 36. “LaGuardia was my Thomas More in that I was surrounded by kids like me who were outgoing and obnoxious and needed a ton of attention.” 37. Did you have support from your parents, Timothée? “Oh yeah, I’ve been very lucky. One article [about Prodigal Son] started by saying that I had a “challenging upbringing in Hell’s Kitchen,” and my mom was incensed. She said, “What are you talking about? You had babysitters!” But we all have our issues. Whatever genetic loading I had put me through trials and tribulations I almost didn’t make it to the other side of, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be able to do a play like [Podrigal Son] without having gone through that.” 38. “The most humbling part of these experiences is realizing how ladder-oriented it is,” he said. “And that’s only fair. It’s a testament to gatekeeping, I guess, and you do have to earn your stripes.”39. “Columbia takes a wholehearted academic commitment that I think I have in me, but it was just not where my mind was at the time.” 40. About Prodigal Son: “It’s been kicking my ass, but in the best way possible,” he says of the run, with its eight- and even nine-show weeks. “There are some days when I go home, especially during the rehearsal process, and I’m like, ‘Wow, this is really hard,’ but the lower the lows, the higher the highs. When I have those days where I feel like everything clicks, it’s the most exceptional feeling in the world. The ups and downs are crazy, but it feels like every muscle is being used on stage.” & “I have to get up on the nights when I feel like I don’t have it in me and find a way to wrench it out of me and get through the nights when it feels amazing. The story is so emotional and it hits so close to home. I was living in the Bronx last year and I was losing my mind, and I get to exercise those demons every night.”41. “I’ve always had that smaller guy’s mentality, and I fought my entire life and tried to assimilate more, but [acting in Prodigal Son] is like a mental exercise that I get to be this guy and people are watching. I feel like it serves a purpose and my me-vs.-the-world mentality is not just dragging me down like I usually feel. In fact, it’s being put to some good use.”42. “I’m going to enjoy every second of this—it sounds cheesy, but I think of myself as an actor third, an artist second, and a fan first,” he said. “But I have genuine fear of having the inability to replicate this moment again.”43. Similarities with Elio: “An openness to life—to the universe, a yearning for deep experiences, hopefully.”43. “New York in the summer is my favorite time of the year; there’s something special about it.”44. About borrowing Call Me By Your Name (the book) at a college library: “I didn’t give it back for a year and I had a fine of $100, so before this movie gave me a career it took money from me.”45. “When you’re suffering, or grieving, the only thing you can control or protect yourself from is the added layer of shame, beating yourself up over heartbreak, or forbidding yourself the pain.”46. “No sexuality, just love.”47. Do you have a secret party trick?“A capacity for self-loathing.”48. He auditioned for Spider Pan, “I read twice and I left sweating in a total panic.”49. “Now that my foot is in the door, I’m locked and loaded. I’m focused.” 50. “The villain in Call Me by Your Name is the tragedy of love—what seems to be part of the deal you sign with someone when you experience an amazing time with them.” 

[camilliar]

zimbits mpreg scrap 1/3

So, this is weird: I’m posting the carcass of this Jack/Bitty mpreg fic I started writing in spring 2016. It was the first thing I began to write for Check, Please, mostly because I was just like, well, there’s no good mpreg for this fandom, someone ought to do it. I’ve returned to this well since, and I’m sorry I never finished this story, because I think it has the bones of something that could have satisfied. Maybe what I’m going to bring here still has the potential to satisfy, if someone’s interested in a Zimbits mpreg fic generally? I will post the rest of it separately.

Looking through this and posting it in an incomplete state is a marker of how my attitudes about the comic and the characters have changed, and also helpful for me in terms of seeing how I work on stories and what helps me finish things successfully, or not. If you read through this first part (of three!), you’ll see bits where my interpretation of the characters has definitely changed in the past two years, either because the comic itself challenged my interpretation, or because my initial impressions have become affected by being in the fandom and living with this story and its actors for a while. This is probably the most evident with Jack, whereas I think even after the start of year 4 this Suzanne Bittle is probably still how I’d write her now.  It was the farthest thing from my mind that Jack would actually win a g.d. Stanley Cup in the g.d. comic!! I’m still just like wow, that happened. But like, in 2018, I don’t think Jack and his father would ever have the conversation I was writing them having here -- I don’t think either of them has it in him and, more to the point, I don’t think the comic will ever get near this kind of resolution; I think it’s chosen instead to just handwave it as everyone being okay now.

Because I can’t write anything straight, the plot is that Bitty and Jack are trying to have a baby, but it’s not going as planned. When I write mpreg, I tend to just go with setting the story in an amorphous AU where men just ... have babies. That said, hockey players don’t, but this entire thing just sidesteps any explanation for how or why men can, so if you’re looking for good mechanics in your mpreg this isn’t going to be that fic.

R-ish, Jack/Bitty, 6k/18k, mpreg

~

~

Eliminated in round one, and Jack woke up on the Monday after last week’s humiliating defeat in game six to a familiar feeling. It was failure entwined with relief, and the press of Bitty’s hand against his dick. “You’ve had enough time off,” Bitty said, hard against Jack’s ear. It was odd—his lips were so soft. “Let’s get back to work.”

“It’s not work exactly,” was the response Jack managed, as soon as he got his eyes open. There it was, atop him—Bitty, his short hair and his big eyes, the nervous smile he got when they were going to try again. It had been two years of trying. It was the promise of the long, hot summer before Jack’s eyes: morning runs, light traveling, and getting Bitty pregnant—or not, as the case might be. Jack was himself indifferent to children, or indifferent to having children. He liked children when they were out of diapers and cooperating. Jack had spent a lot of time thinking about this: he was dead-convinced that he’d make an awful father. He really shouldn’t be a father. He played hockey, for one thing; he couldn’t promise himself he’d always be there. He had rotten genes, for another. Or, good enough in most ways, just, bad brain, he liked to think of it.

But Bitty wanted it. Jack had thought many times of his own parents. They’d been a little older, in their early-mid thirties. Jack was just thirty now, Bitty five years younger. He started on the topic of kids quite suddenly when he’d moved in. “Well, I don’t know,��� Jack had always said, when it came up. “We’ll see.” But Bitty wanted it. He wanted it, and Jack wasn’t managing to deliver. Like he hadn’t managed to deliver during Thursday night’s Power Play, not with all eyes on him, not like last year when he’d helped inch the Falconers into the finals. There’d be no finals this year. Jack had shaved the meager stubble from his face but hadn’t yet cut his hair.

So, it was kind of work—but pleasant work, enjoyable. Like hockey. The sort Jack got off on. Literally. He felt good about following through on this. He missed switching up. Postseason was too intense, so much back-and-forth; not a lot of quality time with Bittle. “Let’s make it count,” Bitty would say, and what he meant was, “If you’re too tired to do it more than once, it’s my turn.” He’d said that once, actually. It hurt, kind of, but the press of Bitty’s tight ass around his dick took out some of the sting. Well, there was one positive in loss: now they’d have time to take turns.

“You go first,” Jack said. He patted the sheet bunched around his thighs. “Get on up here.”

“I prefer second,” Bitty replied, “because I need to let it sort of set.”

“Like it’s a pudding,” said Jack. “Or a mousse?”

“Don’t.” Bitty swiped at him, kissing Jack’s chest and down to his stomach. “If you want me, honey, best get ready.”

“I was born ready.” It was true, and it wasn’t. He’d been born with all the parts, but he’d struggled to put them into play. He’d let his team down—no Cup again this year. He’d let Bitty down, too, though Bitty wouldn’t admit it. There was tension when they did it now—who wasn’t coming through? Which of them was defective? Jack would have said it was him, he was defective: bad brain, slow to realize, unable to make sense of other people. On the ice things were different, but then, how different were they? When Bitty was inside him, Jack tended to let go. That morning, his thoughts swirled around the fear Jack had managed, for two years, to avoid articulating, even to himself: What if he couldn’t give Bitty what he wanted?

And what if he didn’t want that, anyway?

~

Jack detested idleness, but he reveled in Bitty’s skin, in his short hair, in the way they kissed sloppily and breathed heavily on each other’s faces, the pure yellow light of April sun diffusing across Bitty’s toned shoulders when it spilled through their curtains. New England sun was cold and it wasn’t especially springlike yet; Jack hated springy postseasons anyway, because hockey was supposed to remind him of home. Yanked out of home already this year, he was grateful that Bitty wasn’t going in until the afternoon. When they lay in bed together, Jack got a pass. It was a pass he gave himself. Or Bitty gave it to him. He got a pass. He needn’t feel bad about running after breakfast instead of before.

“I’ll make something,” Bitty offered, sliding out of bed. The sheets cost…a lot of money. They were icy blue with scalloped edges, and they matched a quilt Bitty had bought on Brunswick last summer when they’d rented a cabin with the Bittles over a week in July. Coastal Georgia wasn’t Jack’s domain; he didn’t really care for the quilt. It had spilled onto the floor, anyway, or maybe Bitty had pushed it off the bed so as not to “mess it up,” which had happened with their last set of sheets. “What’re you hungry for?” Bitty asked. He picked up the quilt and was folding it, though throughout he kept twitching his hips. Jack had caught that move early on; only after the first time Bitty was inside him did Jack really understand what that little gesture meant: Bitty was trying not to leak.

“Don’t get it on the carpet.”

Bitty tossed the folded quilt on the bed and grinned. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Surprise me.”

“Okay!”

When Bitty had gone Jack lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sometimes he had the misfortune to overhear people discussing him: commentators, gossip columnists, bloggers, fellow classmates, strangers he met on the street, fans of the opposing team, friends of the Bittles on one awkward visit a few years back, people one table over at the restaurant…all and sundry, really, were wont to comment on the inner life of Jack Zimmermann. The cruelest jab was when they assumed his mind was blank, that he was empty.

His mind was not blank. It was too full. He had too many thoughts. They scared him.

~

Bitty assembled parfaits. Jack ate his at the breakfast table with an espresso and the sports section from yesterday’s Journal. He thought about it: Greek yogurt, good source of protein. Raspberries, good source of antioxidants. Bitty’s granola, with flax seeds, good source of fiber; maple syrup, too sugary, but okay, since the berries were bitter. It wasn’t really the season yet. Cinnamon-sugared almonds, inadvisable, but he’d live. The fact that breakfast looked like an ice cream sundae: delightful. Bitty chided him not to read over breakfast. “I got work at one,” he reminded Jack. He was an assistant skating coach, not a bad one. Not a high-profile one. Over the summer he led camps for grade-schoolers. His “work” today would consist mostly of calling local stores to ensure they stocked the equipment Bitty recommended his campers’ parents buy. Jack pretty well knew what Bitty did at work, since they’d text each other ceaselessly throughout. Jack considered going to the rink and skating, but he needed a moment away from Bitty today. He’d miss Bitty, but then he’d fill up with guilt again: Bitty with kids, Bitty wanting a kid, Jack trying to give Bitty a kid, Jack failing to do that. With a sigh, he shed the sports section.

“I think I’m gonna go for a run.”

“Should I join you?”

“Yes.” Jack nodded. “You should. It’ll be fun.” They ran together pretty often. Bitty was fast. And he looked good in little running shorts and a tank top. Maybe they could do it again after the run. Maybe they could do it again in the shower.

~

Jack had not struggled to find himself lunch for years now. Bitty left him Tupperware filled with elaborate leftovers, often with handwritten instructions. Jack found a good one: grilled chicken breast, saffron rice pilaf, poached asparagus and peashoots: you can put a soft-boiled egg on if necessary, said the note. Of course Jack found it necessary; of course Bitty kept a Tupperware of soft-boiled eggs just for Jack to add to his lunches. He reheated according to direction, on one of the microwave-safe plates. Once Jack had put a piece of Bitty’s formal china in the dishwasher. It was fine, but also, ruined. “Do they not have porcelain in Canada?”

“Of course they do—we do,” Jack had said.

Bitty had sighed, “Oh lord,” and stared deeply into the face of his slightly faded plate. “So help us, don’t put any more of my nice plates in the dishwasher. Or the microwave. Or the oven.” Jack had promised.

He put on PBS and ate his lunch over the coffee table in the den. They had a big house. Not relative to other people’s, but relative to what they needed, which wasn’t much. Bitty liked to entertain, which, of course he did; Jack liked to sit quietly and watch documentaries. If Bitty hadn’t gone to work they would have eaten at the breakfast table again, and if Bitty did come home from work to catch Jack eating outside of the kitchen he’d probably get snippy about it: “That’s a fifteen-thousand-dollar couch, can’t you exercise a little caution? Why do you have to eat in front of the TV?” They’ve had that fight a couple of times, with Jack’s view being firmly that if Bitty would be upset by ruining a couch that expensive, they should have a cheaper couch. Ironically, the sofas in the living room were less expensive, and Bitty let people eat in there all the time. Jack wasn’t even sloppy. He didn’t get yolk anywhere but his soccer shorts.

Anyway, the house was too big. Jack missed his parents’ house, which was larger, but something about it didn’t feel quite so empty. He missed sitting in the backyard and watching the clouds pass over Westmount, then heading back into the house to find his parents and their friends laughing over drinks in the living room, low classical music filtering around the place. He had loved, as a boy, to read and re-read the inscriptions on the plaques and trophies that filled the house. He’d loved to look at the same glamor shots of his mother, over and over again. It was a strange wistfulness he felt for that place, since he’d spent so many nights there awake and absolutely terrified. “I was a happy kid who was miserable,” he’d once said to some therapist, and that made a lot of sense. If he couldn’t get comfortable in this house in Providence, she’d helped him see, it probably because he wouldn’t trust the Falconers would keep him on another year. Maybe he’d have to go elsewhere. “But I could keep the house,” Jack always said, whenever he talked about it. He didn’t talk about it much, though. When he started thinking about it he really preferred to eat leftovers in front of the TV.

Which Bitty caught him doing, hours later, in front of a documentary about Wallis Simpson. “What are you watching?” Bitty asked. He dropped his bag on a pocket chair, still dressed for work in his jeans and checked shirt, corduroy blazer. The fit was obscene. Jack would have liked to have torn it off of him.

“Did you get on the ice today?” Jack asked.

“No.” Bitty eyed the empty plate on the coffee table. “Did you get any food on my couch?”

“Our couch,” said Jack, “and, no. I don’t think so.”

With a sigh, Bitty removed Jack’s plate to the kitchen for him, and came back with a glass of sangria for himself. Why did Bitty get to drink wherever he liked, but Jack couldn’t eat lunch in front of the television? How was that fair? Thinking about it must have given him some look of judgment, because Bitty caught him staring and asked, “Did you want something?”

“No.” But he was actually thirsty, so he sat for another minute or two to prove his point, and then got up and went into the kitchen for some water. When he came back, Bitty had turned off PBS and put on some soap masquerading as “prestige” TV. Jack stood in the doorway for a few minutes drinking his water and trying to get into whatever this was on the screen.

Finally, Bitty paused it, turned around, and said, “Honey, you’re being creepy.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed, because sure, he probably was. He sighed, then left. He hoped Bitty felt guilty and came to find him before it was time to make dinner.

~

[OKAY in this section I was like, all right, I’d better introduce some other elements of the comic into this fic, Shitty should be a character, he and Jack are BFFs, I’ll write him in, I guess he lives in Boston and is a lawyer, let’s go from there. Obviously I was unaware that after summer 2016 Ngozi would stop writing about Shitty and start writing about like IDK Tango and Marty and the other characters we all love but I don’t care about. Pour one out for Shitty I guess. Except don’t, I wrote a whole other fic about him maybe I’ll post ... sometime.]

One thing Jack did with increased frequency over the off-season was drive to Boston and meet Shitty for lunch. He was clerking for the First Circuit Court of Appeals, routinely bored, and fond of offering Jack legal advice. In fact, Jack had a lawyer who specialized in sports law, who worked extensively with Jack’s agent and with whom Jack had virtually no contact. He had really only needed direct advice when his contract re-negotiations had come up, when he’d negotiated contracts for appearances and endorsements, and when he’d come out. Jack had few questions about law and expected that most of his activities were in compliance with it. Still, most of his conversations with Shitty these days turned into cautionary tales.

Jack mostly cringed through Shitty’s stories and tried to direct the conversation back to more domestic topics, with which Shitty seemed to have more trouble. It made Jack feel a little superior, which was nice.

[This was supposed to be something telling about Bitty working with kids and he would be good with his own kids etc.]

“Is he good with them?” Shitty asked. He meant the kids, Jack could tell.

“He’s great.”

[You can tell I was burning with passion to include other members of the cast in this stupid fic. I guess I thought I had to.

Something I was trying to do was build up skeptical voices around Jack and Bitty, who I was trying to characterize as insular and needing characters outside their relationship to counterbalance their insularity. Thank god that’s not an issue in the comic.]

~

For some time now Jack had wanted to spend a vacation somewhere else—on the other side of the world, across an ocean, someplace they didn’t speak English, maybe. He was interested in French-speaking locales: Geneva, Guiana, Réunion. He related somehow to the process through which displacement had deposited French nationals around the globe, turned them all into something other than French entirely. Surely those places had other customs, other foods, other dialects which would confuse and frustrate his wobbly joual. He’d written one essay on this topic for a freshman writing seminar themed around globalization, and had revised it into a term paper on French colonialism for his historical methods seminar the next year.

He’d never talked about travelling with Bitty; it was sort of pointless. Their schedules didn’t match; they really, really didn’t match. And Jack’s was unpredictable: he could be done playing and get some time off as early as March or as late as June. They’d never been to the West Coast together, save for one weekend at the start of Bitty’s spring break as a senior in college, when he’d flown out to Los Angeles and spent two nights there with Jack after a routing by the Kings. It was hot; they’d both gotten sunburns on the beach and spent the rest of the afternoon feeling miserable and blaming each other for having done so badly with sunscreen. Jack had been distracted by the loss and anxious to get back home so he could practice, and Bitty was frustrated with his anxiousness and trying to pretend he wasn’t scrambling to make up incompletes before he graduated. They really hadn’t agreed on what to do. Bitty had wanted to explore the finer points of California culture, which was to say, he wanted to scope out celebrities and go out at night in West Hollywood, eat doughnuts every time he turned around, and window shop for new clothing. When Jack had acquiesced to flying Bitty out to meet him, he had been envisioning running in the canyons, then running on the beach, swimming laps in nice pools, and maybe another run before dinner in a totally different canyon. “I’m not going to spend my whole day running!” Bitty had protested. “Lord, you’re crazy! I can do that at school if I want, sheesh. Just go on vacation for once!”

Jack was pretty confident he’d never been on vacation. He looked back on this trip and projected the experience forward: if he ever went anywhere he would spend it arguing with Bitty about what to do, exactly. Also, he would worry deeply, perhaps to the point of ruining himself, about disagreeing with Bitty and, worse yet, not being able to control his schedule. The idea of a romantic European village with twisting cobbled streets or a market square on some exotic isle evaporated when he considered that those places probably didn’t have top-flight gym equipment, or at least, Jack couldn’t ascertain whether they did, and he could just see himself in some gym in some hotel having a total breakdown over the fact that they didn’t have the particular size weights he wanted, which would be embarrassing. Then Bitty would probably have to come and get him, and Jack could imagine Bitty freaking out: “Why are you ruining this? Why can’t you just be normal and enjoy nice things?” Bitty had never flung any such accusation at Jack, at least, not in any way that wasn’t teasing and good-natured, but Jack could not see that Bitty would never, since even the patient had breaking points. It was all very speculative and what if and he sometimes drove himself to the point of exhaustion on these grim prognostications, but just because Bitty hadn’t didn’t mean that Bitty would never, and Jack’s particular dread was finding out at some point, some day, eventually that he had used up all of Bitty’s patience.

For all of this they had spent the past five years taking the same vacation: a week in Montreal, and a week in Georgia, over the end of June and the start of July. As with the year before, Bitty had to work, and so he had, as was his way, chosen to prioritize Georgia over Canada. Which—was fine by Jack, maybe. He would fly up and Bitty would meet him several days later.

[This section is just ... not written, and I don’t know what I was planning to put there -- something about being in Montreal, I guess, or maybe something about Jack’s parents.]

 “It’s just that I am trying to accomplish something that I am failing to accomplish.”

“Well, what makes you say you’re failing at it? And more to the point, Jack, why do you look at it in such a narrow way? There are many games in a series, you know. You don’t have to sweep the series to move to the next round. There are many seasons in a career.”

“Why are you talking to me like this? You’ve never failed at anything. You don’t know what it feels like.”

“I’ve very clearly failed to instill you with a sense of self-worth,” said Bob. “I apparently failed to show you how to tell the difference between failure and making your own path. I’ve failed to teach you not to hurt yourself. I live with those failures every day.”

“You don’t know, Papa. You don’t know.”

“Jack, I don’t want you to win because winning in and of itself is great. I’ll be there for you no matter what. You’re my son no matter what. I want you to win if you want it. I don’t like seeing you suffer, Jack. It’s very draining.”

“Well, I can relate to that, at least,” Jack said.

“Oh?” his father asked, but Jack chose not to elaborate.

Having had this conversation, at least, was a relief for Jack. The rest of the visit was better, even relaxing. He lay that night wide-awake in the guest room with Bitty’s naked calves against his thighs. Bitty rubbed Jack’s stomach and said, in a quiet voice, “We should try tonight, unless you don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“You don’t usually want to at your parents’ house.”

“That’s a silly thing for me to have worried about,” Jack said. “We can try. I’ll get some—did you bring any stuff?”

“Well, I didn’t, because I didn’t know if you’d wanna.”

“There’s some lotion or something slick, I’m sure, in the bathroom.”

“Oh, sure, okay.” Bitty untangled his legs and sat up. “I’ll go get it.”

Used to creeping about, Bitty snuck across the hall. Jack replayed the conversation with his father over again in his head. Years into his relationship with Bitty, he still felt odd being in his childhood home and not sleeping in his bedroom. There was musty wallpaper hung with a collection of his medals and clippings, and a little twin bed. Were it not for Bitty he would climb back into that bed and relive his best and worst. There had been a lot of unpleasantness, and Jack had spent many sleepless nights there. There had also been a lot of good: his mother kissing him awake on his birthdays and Christmas mornings, tangling his hands in Kent’s boxers, drifting to a deep medicated sleep on a nice set of sheets after a strong win, reading his acceptance letter to Samwell over and over and over, so many times that the paper became gray where his fingers had been clutching it. Bitty was there but the guest room would never contain Jack’s bed; it would never be his room. This room had a lighter palette and more furniture, and a whole lot less of everything else.

It was true that Jack did not feel entirely comfortable with doing it in his childhood home, but the sex wasn’t bad, just brief and efficient. Afterward, Bitty lay on his back with his legs up in the air—“pudding position,” he was calling it now. Jack couldn’t help but smile at that. He was uncomfortable with his own nudity, though, and got up to put a shirt on. Afterward he went into the bathroom to drink some water, then decided to go downstairs for ice. When he returned to bed with his glass of ice water in one hand, a second in the other, he found that Bitty had already climbed under the covers and gone to sleep.

~

They were due in Madison proceeding July fourth. Again this year they’d drive to the coast with the Bittles—in tandem, separate cars—and spend the holiday at the beach. The Atlantic was not the seascape of Jack’s dreams but Bitty was in his element there. Southern produce was phenomenal and Jack thought about different fruits and vegetables on the plane: the sweetest corn, a rainbow of cherry tomatoes, sopping watermelon, all kinds of summer berries like shiny jewels. Bitty would spend the holiday in the kitchen, recording videos and baking with his mother, working on elaborate summer dinners and trading gossip. Except for lunch at a touristy crab shack Jack would spend his days on the beach, under an umbrella with a stack of books. Bitty’s father would engage him awkwardly in small talk about sports. The NFL was something Jack followed from a distance; college teams from the South were more obscure to him. High school was off his radar entirely. He’d try to brush it away with the excuse that he was from Canada; it was years into this thing and Coach would still rib Jack about sometimes saying “American football.” “It comes naturally,” Jack would demure. He didn’t mind his beachy exile from the sweltering kitchen, but he would have preferred to pass it in silence. He was still reeling and had a lot to think about.

Jack would not spend Canada Day anywhere but Montreal. On the morning of the second, Jack’s father drove them to the airport. For the first time, as they were caught in traffic, Jack began to consider that someday, perhaps someday not far off, his father would no longer be able to drive and Jack would have to break this to him. Bob was a young 63 but this was all Jack could think about in the car: his parents were in their sixties, Jack was in his thirties, and it was possible that when he was in his forties he’d have to wrest control from his parents and make them stop doing the things that, for Jack’s entire life, they had been doing on their own. His father and Bitty were chatting, or Bitty was blathering about their Georgia plans and Bob was asking kind questions about it. For years now Bitty had been pressing Jack’s parents to come to Georgia.

“Seems like it would be awfully hot down there, son,” Bob was saying. “Wouldn’t it be better to go for Christmas?”

“The baking’s good at Christmas,” said Bitty, typically, “what with all the family in town, but we like hosting everyone! And besides, everyone in Georgia drives all over. There’s air conditioning everywhere. You might be cold, actually. Summer in Georgia needs a sweater.”

“I’ve never needed a sweater for cold in my life,” Bob bragged.

“But air conditioning is a different kind of cold.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not organic,” said Bitty. “It’s not elemental. It’s artificial. It’s mean.”

“That’s interesting.”

Jack would have engaged with this, because he knew what Bitty was talking about. But he was fixated on adding up numbers in his head: if he got Bitty pregnant this summer his parents would be 81 when the kid graduated high school and started college. They’d be 85 at college graduation. They’d be unaccountably ancient if their grandchild ever decided to get married. All Jack could think about was how this has never occurred to him before. He was sitting in the backseat and Bitty was next to Bob, spiritedly trading climate insights. Until Bitty entered Samwell he’d never seen a frozen pond, let alone skated on one; in Montreal the summer days could be intense but the heat would burn off by evening, whereas in Georgia the heat and humidity lingered and lingered throughout the evening.

“My parents’ house has a porch on it and you sit out there to get a nice cross-breeze.” It sounded more like Bitty was looking forward to this than purely describing it. “You sit out there with a glass of lemonade or sweet tea or, let’s be honest, a mint julep, and—”

“I thought they drank those at the Kentucky Derby,” said Bob.

“They’re good all the time, actually!”

They were stalled at a light and so Jack’s father turned to ask him, “Have you ever had a mint julep?”

“I don’t really drink,” said Jack. He could tell that they were both a bit unnerved that he wasn’t saying anything, and Jack couldn’t blame them. He was trying to add up all the milestones to his parents’ current ages. It could take another five or ten years to have kids. Internally, Jack berated himself for not having done this math. He had never particularly wanted kids and so he’d never pressed himself to think about it. His plans, until now, had been centered around hockey seasons and, in college, academic calendars. Weirdly, the two tended to sync up. Projecting beyond this framework was beginning to make him a little anxious.

Bob insisted on getting their bags out of the trunk, hugged Bitty, and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You are going to be okay,” he said, in slurry joual. “But call me when you land in Atlanta anyhow. Call me any time, in fact.”

“You shouldn’t use French around Bittle. It’s rude,” Jack replied, in English.

“My French isn’t so bad.”

Jack raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“Have a good holiday,” Bob said to both of them. “Enjoy the sweaty weather.”

Bitty said, “We will, thanks! Lovely as always. Give Alicia my best.”

The flight was broken up with a layover in Chicago, where Bitty purchased gourmet popcorn and ate it in the first-class lounge with a mimosa and a cup of coffee. Jack had nothing and just sat with him, staring at the O’Hare tarmac. They had learned long ago that immigration and customs at Hartsfield would spoil a trip before it began. Jack recalled things being easier as a kid, especially when he was very young and his mother would take him from Montreal to Pittsburgh to see his father play. He did not recall having a passport then. In his memory crossing from Canada to the US was as effortless as passing back and forth between French and English.

“You’re so quiet,” Bitty said, and he offered Jack his bag of popcorn. It was a mix of neon orange cheddar and brown caramel. “What’s wrong?”

Jack shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

The Chicago-Atlanta flight was under ninety minutes, and Jack resisted Bitty’s attempts to talk with him. “You know I hate it when you bottle it up,” he kept insisting, which just made Jack want to go to sleep. “Did your dad say something to you, about the team?”

“No,” said Jack.

“Did your mom?”

“No. She wouldn’t.”

“Are you going to be grumpy the whole time?”

“I’m not grumpy, I’m quiet,” said Jack. He saw Bitty motion to pull out his phone. “Do not purchase in-flight internet just to Tweet that.”

Bitty laughed, and asked the flight attendant for another mimosa when she passed.

Landing in Atlanta, they struggled onto the Plane Train, sleepwalked to baggage claim, collected their things, and were on the road to Madison in a rental car in thirty minutes. Bitty chatted as he drove, telling the same stories he’d told before about this rest stop or that billboard. It was hours later, but Jack’s thoughts were stuck on the idea that his parents would be 65 in two years. He had never thought of his parents as old before, but 65 was very old. This was inarguable. It was all Jack could think about.

They spent the afternoon on the porch with Suzanne Bittle, who made mint juleps. Jack had water. When Bitty was on his second julep, he leaned into his mother and said, sadly, “Maybe I shouldn’t be drinking so much.”

“Well, it’s a holiday,” she replied, though the holiday was two days off.

“Maybe it interferes with fertility,” said Bitty. “Maybe that’s why—”

“Well, people get drunk and fall pregnant all the time,” Suzanne said, “so if it interfered that wouldn’t happen.”

“Are you saying we should give it a shot this afternoon?” Bitty wrapped his free hand around Jack’s thigh and leaned in. “I’m feeling optimistic!”

“Um.” Jack could see Suzanne staring at him. He took an awkward sip of his water. They both laughed at him.

“Oh, honey,” said Bitty, his voice full of joy. “Never change, okay?”

~

After dinner, Bitty and his father hashed out their route for the next morning’s drive. They planned to take “scenic backroads,” which Coach swore would be less trafficky for the holiday. Jack listened in for a moment and then floated back into the kitchen, where Suzanne was washing up.

“I love having you boys,” she said. She wore yellow rubber gloves. Jack had never seen his own mother in a pair. “Y’all have to come down more often.”

“It’s hard during the season.” Jack never felt quite comfortable with her; she had always been kind to him and was often, in fact, over-the-top enthusiastic, but on their first meeting he had been incredibly rude. He would never get over this. It would haunt him forever.

“I understand,” she said. “It was always hard for Coach to get away. He always wanted to come up to Samwell and see Dicky play, but a schedule’s a schedule.” She cleared her throat. “So, I understand.”

“Thank you for understanding,” said Jack, “and for your hospitality.”

“Of course.” Her words slurred together like Bitty’s did, so that it came out uh-curse. “You sure you don’t want a drink?”

“I’m all right.”

“Can I tell you something? Can I talk for a sec?” She turned off the faucet and peeled off the gloves. She didn’t wait for him to say yes and just barreled into it: “I’m worried about Dicky.”

“Dicky’s fine,” said Jack.

“I know couples talk about these things together,” she said, “but it’s not easy to talk about this stuff.”

“What stuff?” he asked, though he knew immediately that she meant sex, more or less.

“You oughta encourage him to go see a specialist,” she said, softly. “You’re both young. He’s only twenty-five, you know, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to—you know. I mean, if you boys are trying, which, y’all are trying, right?”

Jack’s entire body seized up in discomfort. He hated this. He hated having this talk with her. “Yes,” he said. It was all he could get out. What he should have said was, “We are, but I worry that my lack of certainty is somehow emotionally hindering the process.” But he knew that wasn’t, medically, any kind of reason. He kept his mouth shut and listened.

“I bet there’s someone good up there y’all could see,” she said. “One of the neighbors, her husband’s brother’s up at Emory Hospital. He’s a fertility specialist. I could ask, you know, if he knows anyone, and you don’t have to tell Dicky you heard it from me. But I hope you can talk him into this, because I hate seeing him like that, you know? He doesn’t want to talk about it to me.”

“So, why the suggestion now?”

“Because he mentioned it earlier,” she said. “It’s hard for him to say difficult things to me. It’s always been hard and he’s stubborn about that.”

“He is stubborn,” Jack agreed. As they had to be up early, he did not bring it up with Bitty that night.

~

Jack brought it up in the car the next day. He had to talk himself into raising the issue, because Bitty was driving, and Bitty was not an exemplary multitasker. Here they had the radio on, the windows open, and Bitty was trying to keep an ear out for directions from his phone, Siri or whoever. Jack wasn’t totally sure who or what program was advising them to make such-and-such a turnoff around Macon, or whatever, and his offer to give directions with a paper map was met with, “Honey, please.” It had come in the glove compartment of the rental and it seemed, to Jack, a shame not to use it. Then again, he’d gotten his way and they were now listening to local country stations, so it would have been ungrateful to press it.

But when else were they going to talk about this? “So, uh, your mom—” Jack began.

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Bitty replied.

“I’m trying to. Did she give you the same lecture?”

“No, what lecture? I mean, offering you a drink—the nerve! I always tell her, Jack’ll get his own drink if he wants it, Mother, don’t even offer it to him. She’s going to want to take so many pictures of the Fourth, I’m almost dreading it. Pictures of me with pie dough on my hands and my hair all messed up, and such, I know she means well but she’s so intrusive it’s—”

Jack interrupted. “She actually asked me to talk to you about something else. She said she knows some guy who knows some guy who could maybe help us find a fertility specialist in Providence?” Jack paused. “I guess?

“The nerve of her!” Bitty exclaimed, snapping off the radio. “I’m so sorry, I can’t deal with this whiny music right now. I have told her it’s none of her business!”

“Isn’t it kind of, though? But in any case it seems clear that parents do not let up. You really can’t tell her not to get involved or she’ll somehow get more involved.”

“She is my best friend but she really ought to keep her nose out of it, is what she ought to do.”

“Okay, but, even if annoying—she’s not...wrong?”

“How isn’t she wrong?”

 “Maybe you want to...see someone.” Jack said gently.

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of it. I just feel so defective, like, why can’t I do this one very straightforward thing?”

“That’s what you consult a doctor to find out.”

“I can’t believe she roped you into lecturing me about it.”

“How do we know I’m not defective? Maybe that’s what she was talking about.”

Bitty laughed. “Ha, no. But, say you were. What business is it of hers?”

“She wants grandchildren, I guess. Also, maybe she’s worried about you.”

“Oh, everyone wants grandchildren, good for her. And you are not defective! How dare she suggest it?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack. “But in the past I have proven to be fairly defective. So, maybe she’s onto something.”

“Well, I’m sorry she cornered you, anyway.”

The rest of the drive was predominantly silent, except when they pulled off the road to get gas. They bought a Styrofoam cup of hot boiled peanuts and ate them before getting back in the car. Jack really loved them; Bitty pronounced them “the worst of Georgia” and went on to clarify, “There’s nothing wrong with boiled peanuts—lord knows, I love me a good peanut boil. But food should not be sold, let alone purchased, at a gas station. It is unseemly.”

“What’s wrong with gas station food? People need to eat.”

“I’m not going to explain the many things wrong with what just came out of your mouth,” said Bitty. They got back into the car and finished the drive to Tybee Island.

They went out for dinner that night with Bitty’s parents, who had somehow found the priciest place in town. Like many visitors to the South, Jack did not understand and refused to develop any comprehension of most Southern foods, but he ate them anyway because they were delicious and, more to the point, what was available. He ordered a whole broiled brook trout and it came with sides of ham-studded collard greens, pimento grits, and some variety of corn pudding. He ordered an iced tea to go with dinner and was greeted with the question, “Sweet or unsweet?”

“Just get the dang sweet tea,” said Bitty, who was drinking wine, “because you know you want it.”

“Do I really, though?”

Bitty asked the waiter, “Don’t you think he should have sweet tea?”

The waiter did not seem amused by having to answer: “If you’re undecided, I can come back later.”

“No,” said Bitty’s mother, “we’re ready to order. What are y’all doing? Dicky, just leave him alone, he knows what he wants to drink.”

“Well, sometimes he doesn’t.”

“Can the rest of us finish ordering, then?”

“Sure,” Bitty agreed, and they all placed their food orders.

Finally, the waiter came back to Jack and asked, “Do you want to order a drink, sir?”

Jack mumbled, “I’ll stick with water.”

After dinner Bitty’s parents drove home, and Jack and Bitty walked down to an ice cream shop. The little town culminated in a beach, and they sat by the ocean while they ate. It wasn’t particularly pleasant; it was a windy twilight and sand was blowing into their ice cream. The handful of families lingering on the beach were making an awful racket, and as they were facing the water, the sunset was behind them. Everything was flanked with palmettos and Jack began to wonder if that telltale chirping sound was made by crickets, or something else. Was it a locust year? Did they have those in Georgia? He did not ask because Bitty was blathering about going to the beach as a kid and crying when he got sand in his bathing suit. The longer they sat the more Jack became aware of the many mosquitos.

“Well, did y’all not have bugs in Canada?” Bitty asked, when Jack finally managed to bring it up.

“It is quite a bit colder by season,” said Jack, “so I don’t remember getting bugs like this, no.”

“Well, down here we just put up with it.”

“Yes, I know, thanks.” His scoop of cherries jubilee long finished, Jack tossed his empty paper dish into the nearby trash. “I guess you put up with a lot.”

“What do you mean? I’m okay.”

“I mean, me, your parents, work stuff.”

“That’s not stuff I put up with! It’s stuff I really love that can be a little annoying sometimes.”

“Oh. Well, that’s flattering, I guess.”

Bitty was still clutching a half-eaten cone in one hand; with the other, he brushed Jack’s bangs away from his eyes. ”Maybe you want to get a haircut after all. It’s getting a little unkempt.”

“That’s not important right now.” Jack felt the sticky ice cream wrapper in his sweaty hand. He would have traded anything to get up and walk back to the rental car, drive back to the place, and take a shower.