#meanwhile mercy make shit coffee

[nyamcattt]

who let her cook!?! 💀

[whaleofatjme1920]

Right Back Where You Started

Right Back Where You Started

[Masky/Timothy Wright X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight blood, slight violence, language]

[AN: Four of my OC's are in here! This was also requested from a friend a while ago.]

The beauty about being able to live a life outside of murdering people and being at the whim of a monster that fancies itself as a god is a variety of your own accord.

For instance, you can wake up whenever you feel like, take a job wherever there’s openings, meet new people and not have to bash their brains in just for asking about your life and only need to pick up a blade to cut food or occasionally packages you impulsively bought on the nights that feel like too much and not enough all in one. You can breathe and not worry about inky black tendrils crushing your throat for doing so without his permission. You’re able to sleep at night knowing that no higher up in your group will attempt to kill you in an act of proxy related hazing. You can clear your mind temporarily of the thoughts of what may come next in trade for semi-normalcy even though you know those thoughts won’t go away anytime soon. The weight of what you’d done was too much to bear, and Atlas can only disappear for so long.

When you first decided to betray your boss, the tall man in the woods, the faerie that steals children away, you acted on impulse. It was an impulse that was born from being all too exhausted with risking your life, committing sin upon sin and other terrible, no good things that should ever be uttered. The decision you made on impulse had no foresight or planning, and when you decided to run, you ran as far and as hard as you could away from him. Away from them. Away from it all. Of course, you know there were going to be repercussions for running like so few others did.

The ire of the Slender Man being the worst.

Most days, you try not to think of him. There’s no point - well, maybe there is a healthy fear you still have - but to worry yourself into a stupor would be silly now. You’ve been free of him for a year. He hasn’t sent you any signs, nor has he sent anyone… Maybe you weren’t important enough to set him off like some of the others had.

These are the things you like to think about as you sit on your couch watching the late night news that’s barely audible as you scroll through your phone. You never really did like the total silence an empty house provides. There’s a simmer cup of tea on the coffee cup and a few snacks laid out that you have little plans of eating while you relax and enjoy the midsummer night. Outside, you can hear crickets sing and cicadas accompany them. It’s peaceful, and while your mind would like to think of it as such, you can’t ignore the ringing in the back of your head. Things have been pleasant, too pleasant. There’s bound to be a storm due to roll in.

Still, you try not to think of these things, and instead focus on the content that scrolls in and out of your vision. It’s nothing particularly interesting, but helps get your mind off the things that often keep you up. And you continue to sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a light blanket to combat your AC as the hours of the night tick by. Your mind is completely off of really, any higher cognitive thought, when you hear something. It’s soft, low, sounds like two, maybe three people and they’re out in the distance. Must just be stumbling onto the borders of your ‘farm’.

See, the funny thing about trying to integrate into normal human life is that you physically can’t. You can follow all their customs, get into their society, look like them, but you’ll never be fully human. You want to know why? Proxies can never go back to what they used to be. They’re forever changed, and no force on heaven of earth can ever get rid of that. He can take your memory and dump you on the side of the road, but your biology has forever been changed. In most cases, it’s a nice thing to have: faster healing, better pain tolerance, heightened senses, and a better sense of problem solving than most people. Other days, it’s a hindrance for reasons you can’t quite explain. Some call it Slender Sickness, and the only way to remedy it is to be under the tall man’s care.

Because you’re not, you’ve found other ways to remedy the sickness he inflicts on practically everything he touches. Pills. You find them in odd, strange places, but they get the job done. So long as you have them, you can be free of his grasp and his connection.

But goddamn, the hearing is mostly a hindrance. On the account of you living on the edge of a college town, you’ve got land and are surrounded by farmer’s fields. You heat it all- critters in the night, teens messing with the patches, arguments, sometimes crimes, and it keeps you up at night. That’s a downside to not having him in your life- he’s not there to dampen its effects when it becomes too much. However, in this specific instance, your heightened hearing is a blessing.

The feeling in your gut only furls together tighter as you hear the three strolling down your dirt road. They’re close, much too close. You know that they’re here for you.

Frantically, you jump off the couch and start to damage control by making the place look like no one inhabits it. The TV and lights are turned off, the mug emptied of its contents, snacks put away and other leads buried. Your heart pounds a mile a minute - you know that if he finds you, it’s all over.

He’ll kill you - the Slender Man is not known for his mercy.

You feel like a chicken with its head cut off as you look around the house for weapons before settling on the kitchen knife. It’s cliché and reminds you of someone you once heard whispers about, but it’s all you can think of in this moment. When you left this life, you left the physical parts of it as well. All your gear, weapons, they’re hidden in a place that’s too risky for you to even attempt getting. Armed with the kitchen knife, you debate running out the back or hiding, then running. You always were good at staying out of sight, hiding it is.

Your eyes dart to the basement door and you slip through right as you hear the three outside your front door. There’s a window that opens in the direction of the town. If you slip out of it, you’ll be able to get a good headtstart through the field. The moment you start booking it down the stairs, you hear your front door get blown open.

“Wallace, what do you think?” You hear a male’s voice ask.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” a deeper male voice responds - must be Wallace, eyeing over your living room.

In the darkness, you quietly maneuver the crowded, cluttered basement, mentally cursing you left your phone upstairs in your haste.

“It feels like someone’s been in here,” Wallace’s voice continues. You can practically hear him smelling the air. “Ruth, tell Nyein to sniff this one out.”

You hear boots scuff against your wooden floor and stop somewhere in the doorway. “You could always just ask them yourself,” the female voice identified as Ruth verbally shrugs. She clicks her tongue, and you hear even more steps. How many of these people are there? You hope it’s just four. That’s a well sized group, come to think of it. “Ny, can you please sniff this one out? Seems like they’ve done a good job at scent covering.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Don’t give us any attitude,” the first male voice hisses slightly. “Do what you���re told-”

“Theo,” Wallace sharply reprimands.

You hear Theo sigh right as you reach the window. You pray to whatever deity will have you that it won’t squeak or make any loud noises, but the thing hasn’t been opened in gods know how long. You use the blade to lightly cut through the layers of off-white paint before the window is free. You mentally smile before attempting to lift it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Nyein got your scent. Their pupils dilate upon realizing you’re the one the Slender Man has requested alive. You hear someone rapidly padding to the basement.

Panic fills your veins as you struggle to get the window open, not even caring that it’s making all the noise in the world. You need to get out!

“She padlock this thing?” You hear Ruth ask before she grunts. The door can’t hold them back forever.

You frantically push up on the window - it's a quarter open, not near enough for you to slip through. Shit, shit, shit! You need to go NOW.

“Jesus- just break it already,” Wallace sighs.

A few more grunts and you hear the wood splinter. You hear them descending the steps quickly.

“There!” Theo points.

You hold your breath and push the window up with all your strength before hosting yourself up.

“Shit! Out the front! Ny, keep on her,” Wallace commands as he smacks Ruth and Theo’s shoulder, the two quickly following him up the stairs.

You begin to shimmy out the narrow window as the being called ‘Nyein’ eyes you down. You don’t think you’ve ever seen an independent like that before. They look absolutely feral, and the scent of you has them locked on your crawling form.

Their eyes narrow, teeth bared, and they quickly lunge across the space for you, right as your legs reach the windowsill.

You cry out in surprise as their clawed hand digs into your ankle, drawing blood you know you can’t afford to worry about.

“Get off!” You shout in retaliation, kicking at their face. Freed, you begin to sprint into the field.

Nyein snarls and crawls out the window as well, running after you with a speed that has you on edge. You continue to run. Behind you, you can hear the other three quickly gaining on you as well. How badly does the Slender Man want you? Your lungs light on fire as they chase you through the field. Soon, you’ll be hitting the small stretch of trees before you reach the town. With other people, you’ll have a better chance at being safe. But the stretch of woods is an awful mess of brush and loose soil. You can’t afford to misstep now.

You take in a deep breath as you hurl into the small stretch of trees, all too aware of the proxies and independent that are hot on your trail. In the back of your head, you can tell they’re tired of you. Good. They should be. You narrowly avoid twisted roots and piles of mud and grow closer and closer to other people.

It’s so close that you can almost touch it.

Lost in your thoughts and too tunnel visioned in on reaching the town, you fail to recognize the steel jaw trap in the darkness and send your shoe right on it. It clamps down, bites, and holds you. You screech and fall forward, careening into the forest floor. The pain in your leg is absolutely agonizing, and you claw at it in vain to free yourself as your pursuers close in on you.

“Gave us quite the chase, Reader,” Wallace says with a slight scowl as he crouches a healthy distance from you. “Should let you rot here,” he muses. You can’t see his face both from the darkness of the night and the fact he’s wearing a mask, but you can tell he’s upset.

“Or let Ny eat her. Been a while since they’ve last had anything,” Theo adds on, glaring at you through the eyeholes of his mask that’s the head of a pig.

“He said he wanted her alive,” Ruth chimes in, a sigh in her tone. “She’s already fucked herself up enough, let’s not rub salt in the wounds.”

“Put her to sleep then,” Wallace shrugs.

You look up at these people like a caged animal, your eyes narrowing and slightly watering at the pain of the steel jaw trap. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to the earth subconsciously as Nyein eyes you like a prize.

\ They reach their hand out to touch you before you smack them away. Their snarl, their eyes traveling down to your ankle where the blood smells the strongest.

“Do it before they eat her,” The deep voiced man says again. “Though, last I checked, Ny doesn’t eat proxies.”

“She’s a traitor, not a proxy,” Ruth lightly corrects, her gaze alone shushing you from making any noise.

Not wanting to work yourself up, you settle for cursing them under your breath.

Without any other words, Ruth comes up to you, resting her boot on your chest to keep you down. You attempt to grab at her leg, throw her off balance, but she’s stronger than you on account of still being an active proxy. Her dark eyes scan you up and down before she reaches into her back pocket. “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmurs before smacking the rag to your mouth and nose.

You flail about, screaming and cursing before reluctantly taking that breath.

“... Thank you, you’ve done well. Head out to - yes, that’s right, Theo - head there and I will give you further instruction.”

You blearily come to on the carpet of an office you hoped you’d never be back in. The smell of jasmine and incense hangs in the air. You hear a door shut and catch the boots of the people who brought you back to him leave the room. He must be sending them out to their next assignment; it’s probably some poor other bastard that won’t escape like you did. You take in a few timid breaths and allow the light to filter in.

There he is, your boss. He stands in front of you like a god. He has no face, but you can tell he’s more than upset.

“Miss Reader, what a pleasure,” he says in a deep, authoritarian tone.

On instinct, you feel yourself shrinking.

“Really?” He muses, inky black tendrils sprouting from his back. “You have the nerve to run from me, suppress me, and now you do this? You dare show your submission?” He hisses. The tendrils move like bolts of electricity as they wrap around your exhausted, terrified form.

You cringe as the tendrils take over every part of you, squeezing as if they’re threatening to break your bones if you so much as breathe out of turn. Tears well in your eyes as you remember the fear you used to feel rushing back and overloading your senses.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” he spits as the tendril wrapped around your neck begins to constrict. You notice his body language bristle as he looks at you longer. “I could pop your eyeballs out of your sockets. I could tear you limb for limb,” the Slender Man continues like it’s nothing.

You feel nothing but malice radiate off his form. It’s heat that singes your very soul. “S-Sir,” you gasp out. “Why would you b-bring me here just to k-kill me?” You attempt to reason, eyes watering and vision going fuzzy. You weakly attempt to use your fingers as a barrier between the constrictor and you. You can’t take this low oxygen any longer - not with him physically inhibiting you.

A cold chuckle reverbates in your head while the vision of wolf’s teeth smile at you, as if they’re ready to snap. “You always were smart,” he notes, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “I could rip your head from your shoulders and it would make none of the difference.”

“Answer my observation,” you weakly cough out before he holds you tighter. You struggle to move your limbs. Your blood feels hot.

“Masky,” he suddenly calls out, hand gesturing to his office doors.

You’re barely able to move your head and settle on shifting your eyes instead to those large, oak doors as they open just a crack.In slips a man in a tan coat. He’s got dark hair, bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted - more exhausted than you feel. He doesn’t look at you but instead focuses on the Slender Man.

“Sir,” he greets, bowing his head slightly in reverence.

The Slender Man hums, clearly pleased. You see the wolf’s jaws smile in your mind’s eye.

“Reader, you will be under his care now,” the Slender Man says. “If you successfully spend half a year at his side, I will reconsider tearing you apart.” He says it so nonchalantly that you feel chills run up and down your spine.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you oppose me?” The Slender Man asks. “I am being more than generous, aren’t I?”

“Don’t take this offer for granted,” you hear Masky quietly add. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you can hear Masky telling you not to push him too far.

Hesitantly, you nod, voice too weak to say anything physically.

The Slender Man’s tendrils suddenly retract from you, sending you roughly to the carpeted floor.

You yelp as you come into contact with the carpet and slowly gather yourself as you try to push down the aches and pains that bloom on your joints and shins that hit the ground particularly hard. You cough a bit as air returns to your lungs and struggle to stand.

“Do what you must,” the Slender Man waves off, turning his back to both you and Masky.

Masky finally breaks from his stance and moves quickly to your side to help you up.

At first, you try to smack his hand away, but upon realizing you’re too weak to even see straight, accept his hand and his arm when you’re standing upright. He smells of cigarettes and some out of date cologne. It’s not bad.

The two of you hobble out of the Slender Man’s office with Masky’s eyes never leaving your form. After all, you are his responsibility now. He continues to lead you through a mansion you’ve grown to despise and out into the warm summer morning. The Slender Man could never imitate the beauty of earth to its entirety, that much was apparent.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a rough voice, attempting in vain to clear it by coughing.

“Stop that,” Masky sighs as the two of you cross the lawn. “To the parking lot, getting in the car, then driving across the border to Mississippi. We’ve got a temp there,” he murmurs. “You good?” He’s mentally wondering why your healing hasn’t damage controlled this yet. Probably the boss still being mad at you is the best reason he can come up with.

“Do I look like I’m good?” You dryly respond, eyes squinting slightly as the fog begins to kick up. You know you’re reaching the end of his reach. Once the fog clears up almost as quickly as it appeared, you realize the Slender Man’s practically kicked you both out of his realm. The walk was always longer when you truly were his. He must be severely pissed off at you. In a way, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you from the get go.

It’s best not to dwell on that thought though.

The rest of the walk is quiet and you’re in the car before you can count to 100 (your numbers are very jumbled though). You slide into the passenger seat and feel a little better at being able to rest.

Masky slides into the driver’s seat and sighs as he grips the wheel. “You have any questions, you ask them now in the car. I’m not putting up with your bullshit when we get to the temp.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window. “Who are you?”

“Masky, you heard him,” he’s pulling out of the parking lot and mentally thanking the gods he wasn’t killed alongside you. When the boss is in such a questionable mood, there’s no telling what’ll happen.

“You know damn well what I meant,” you cough slightly.

Masky scoffs before reaching into the backseat for a moment. His fingertips brush a water bottle, and upon realizing that’s what it is, grasps it and then tosses it to you.

You nod and take a sip, mentally frowning that the water’s been heated in the morning summer sun.

“I’m a group leader. Probably haven’t heard of us though, we’re not terribly monumental,” he begins as he flicks the turn signal on. “You’ve got three other people to watch out for. Hoodie, he’s the right hand, Toby, he’s essentially our middle child, and Kate. You’re replacing her and the hazing process will start up,” he finishes, now matching pace with the other cars that sparsely decorate the expressway.

You pout slightly and press your lips into a thin line as you gaze out the window at the rolling scenery. You’ve been here before. You’ve brought people back here this exact way before. They’re all unwanted memories. In response, your body language becomes unreadable.

This does not go unnoticed by Masky. “Yeah the attitude isn't gonna work,” he says as he glances over at you. “C’mon, you’ve been through this process before. We all have - what gives?”

With a sigh, you flick your eyes over to him to gauge his mood. He seems genuinely curious. “You do know that I ran away for a reason, right?”

Masky nods. “Sure, it was stupid though.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to open his window. “What did you think would happen?” Sounds like he’s trying to pick at your brain.

“Anything but this,” you gesture angrily to your current situation. “I hoped to never see him again,” you groan, clearly frustrated. You chug some more water.

Masky breathes out slightly, as if he’s judging your answers. “Whatever. Forget about pulling something like that again because I’ll personally come after you if it comes to that,” he claims in a tone that’s far too serious.

You roll your eyes slightly, “sure, like you’ll-”

His eyes shift on the expressway, and after ensuring there’s no one that’ll cause a pile up on behalf of him, he hits the brakes, sending you lurching forward into the dashboard.

“What the hell?” You cry out in an exasperated tone, struggling to peel yourself up from the dashboard. You cry out in shock again as you feel his hand at the back of your head, successfully grinding your skull into the heated polyvinyl chloride.

“Get that thought of your fucking head,” he hisses, raising your head slightly before smacking it back down.

You growl back and relent. Once the pressure from his arm is gone, you shove him off of you. The car picks up pace again and you notice him wave to a person who passes by - they have a mildly concerned expression - and he smiles like he didn’t just slam your skull into PVC.

Welcome back to the proxy life.

You make it to Mississippi by mid afternoon. Masky brings the car down some dirt path where a house lays right on the Mississippi river, and you can smell traces of blood. They must’ve cleared the previous residents out.

There, on the porch in a muscle tee holding a can of coke is a man with his left cheek missing. He twitches slightly as he waves at you and Masky.

“T-This her?”

Masky nods.

“Can’t b-believe she g-g-gave Wallace’s g-g-group the s-slip,” he says in a slightly amused, slightly annoyed tone.

“Word travels that fast?” Masky replies with a slight chuckle.

The proxy before you nods with a small smile, “c’mon. I wanna g-g-get out of this h-heat. It’s a-a-awful out here,” he says with a playful grimace as he slowly rises from the front step where he had been sitting.

“Is Kate happy?” Masky asks as he watches Toby head in, then nods for you to go.

With a small frown, you do so. At least it’s air conditioned.

“Over the moon,” a feminine voice cuts in from the kitchen. She’s stirring a thing of lemonade.

Masky smiles slightly and takes a seat at the table. “We weren’t that bad,” Masky notes as Kate slides a glass of lemonade to the group leader.

She raises a brow at Toby who glances down to his open pop can. “So, this is the one he wanted alive for this term?” She questions as she glances at you, silently asking if you’d like some.

You mouth a ‘please’ before getting comfortable at the table.

“Weirdly, yeah,” Masky replies before taking a languid sip. “Thought he was gonna go for someone with more street cred, but, whatever. She’s our problem now,” he shrugs.

You look down into the pastel yellow liquid and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. All of this, it was wrong. You hadn’t had to play by proxy rules in a year, and here you were, bottom of the rung, the runt. You hadn’t been a runt in gods know how long.

Conversation begins to flow between the three people around you as glasses of lemonade are poured. You sit in silence, listening because you know it’s not your place to speak. As far as proxy culture goes, you don’t really have any rights. Well, you’re in a better place than independents, but according to other proxies, you’re a glorified errand boy. They say to jump and you’re supposed to ask ‘how high?’ Your group’s word becomes gospel.

Apparently, Kate was this group’s runt before you came in. But, runts only stay runts for a certain amount of time. It’s possible for groups to not have runts - and that’s essentially what this group was doing. Kate had outgrown her runt status and was well considered the youngest (in experience) member of their group but had the same social standing as Toby. While it was a joke to refer to her as a runt, they hadn’t had one for a while.

That’s where you come in. You’re the first member to be considered a runt in quite some time. And you can tell they’ve been itching to take it out on someone.

“Where’s Hoodie?” Masky asks as his fingertips trace the lip of his glass. “Should be thrilled to see we’ve got another one.”

“Only t-thing holding h-him back from h-hurting you is the f-f-f-fact the O-Operator asked f-f-for us to t-take her,” Toby giggles slightly as he crushes another pop can. “He’s h-h-handling something, Should be c-c-coming back now, though.”

“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear,” you hear another man’s voice chuckle as the front door swings gently open.

Standing in the doorway holding a crowbar and wearing a white t-shirt is Hoodie - sans hoodie. It’s much too hot to be wearing one anyways. He haphazardly tosses the crowbar to the floor before closing the front door behind him, then begins walking towards the kitchen.

“This is her?” He asks as he takes a seat next to Masky, silently thanking Kate for the lemonade.

“Disappointing, right?” Kate lightly jokes, making Hoodie smile.

“In this form, sure,” Hoodie observes as his hazel eyes rake over your form. “She looks weak, scrawny, low endurance, probably forgot all her skills, what, with her being missing for a year?” He says it like it’s a game but looks at you like he despises you. “Not training her. Not my problem, and especially not in this heat.”

“She’s part of our group,” Masky replies in a slightly exasperated tone.

“No-Nose goes,” Toby suddenly blurts out.

Everyone presses their index to their nose except for Masky, who sighs dejectedly.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “Let’s go, Reader. You’ve been awfully quiet.” The brown haired man says in a less than pleased tone, picking his glass up and momentarily pausing to place it in the sink.

You quietly follow in suit, nodding to your other comrades before following him out.

The nice thing about waiting for Hoodie to stir things up was that it was the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and a breeze was beginning to shift through the air. It wasn’t near as hot due the sun no longer beating down on you. Besides, it was nice to get out of the house for a bit.

Masky and his group must have been staying here for a while, because he walked into the woods on this deer path like it was nothing and led you to a clearing. There were a few training things, but nothing of any substance - just a temporary fix until they were somewhere more permanent. Proxies are nomadic, after all.

“You still have a knife on you?”

“I would’ve stabbed you with it.”

He shoots you a look as if to tell you to watch your mouth and you holds your hands up.

“I’m joking,” you defend. “When I meant I wanted to never look back, I truly, deep down to my bones, meant it.”

Masky’s hand goes to his belt loop where he takes out a knife. It’s… severely dulled. Looks like he doesn’t trust you just yet.

“See that dummy? Show me what you remember and I’ll decide if we’re out here until midnight or not.”

The dummy in question looks gods awful. It’s missing an arm, the stuffing is all over the grass, and the poor thing looks like it can’t support its own weight anymore. You wonder which one of your comrades got it to this state of if this was a group effort.

You narrow your eyes and get a hold of the blade in your grasp. It’s much nicer than a kitchen knife - reminds you of what you used to use when you were but a shadow in the night. You glance at him, then the dummy, and decide to get to work.

There’s no use in running. The Slender Man will hunt you down regardless, and he won’t be as merciful the second time around.

“Stop stalling,” Masky chides.

You take in a breath, and do as told.

To say six months passed with ease would be a lie. It’s been six months of hell - and that’s mostly because you’re a runt paired with the fact you never wanted to be back here to begin with.

It’s been strange, you’ll give it that. The proxy in you took over faster than the human side of you could and you integrated back into proxy culture and society far easier than anyone expected. Of course, there were some moments where your group members would ruffle your feathers and put you in your place, but that was expected. To be a proxy is to be put under fire until you prove yourself otherwise.

You’ve gone on operations with them. Took lives again. Stole things again. You settled back into the life you originally left behind as if you’d never departed to begin with. That’s how deep the proxy mindset and muscle memory is embedded into those it takes hold of. It sets itself out to be the only thing you’ll ever know. You live by it, you die by it.

So, where have you been for the past six months? Well, still in Mississippi. About two weeks after you first arrived with your new group, you and the group moved down south near the ocean and have been staying there the entire time. Luckily, this place was considered a temp house for the people who owned it - they liked spending time in Europe - which left this place as yours. Besides, the Slender Man likes having you close. He was able to periodically check in on you with you being a few hours away as opposed to days. Why he was so interested in you, you’ll never know.

According to both him, and Masky, you’d been making good progress. By the end of your six months (lovingly referred to as a “trial run” by your group), you were half way back to what you used to be. It was disheartening to only hear “half” but it was better than nothing. A part of you wonders why you’re so inclined to get better when you should be focusing on leaving.

It’s not like you didn’t try.

You tried so many times that your group started a tally board and whoever found you first got a mark under their name. Whoever hit five before the board was reset got the next operation (or operation of their choosing) off. For the first few weeks when you were but a stranger with them, the punishments were harsh and unforgiving, like they hate you to your core. But, as the months went on, they went from fists to phrases. Eventually, you stopped trying to run so they no longer had to beat you. Every time you got that far off look in your eye, someone would reprimand you. It’s probably because they cared about you.

That’s common for proxies, bonding with your teammates on a level outsiders can’t understand. It’s mostly to keep you safe while out in the field. And unfortunately for you, you’ve been feeling that way towards your group. You’ve covered for each one at least once, and that gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re in a strange place, if you’re being honest.

Take for instance now, back in the passenger seat of a car and heading back to Rosswood with Masky (he told you his real name is Tim) to talk with the Slender Man face to face. While the others in your group have been keeping up with him regularly, you haven’t seen him in person since well, six months ago. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach as you draw closer to the woods you once considered home.

“You nervous?” Masky hums as he turns the radio down.

“Yeah,” you reply, gazing out at the rolling fields again. “What if he-”

“It’d be stupid of him,” Masky cuts you off. “Six months of putting all this time and effort only to off you? Just… Just don’t say anything stupid,” he reminds you, a slight teasing tone lingering on his words. He looks at you with gentle eyes.

You scoff playfully. “Eyes on the road, weirdo.”

Standing in the Slender Man’s office this time as a welcome guest is weird. There’s still the scent of jasmine and incense, but there’s also something sweeter - like a memory he’s trying to provoke specifically for you. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, and it doesn’t feel near as suffocating as did that first time.

“You’ve certainly changed,” a deep voice says with an audible smile as it reverberates through your head.

“Sir,” you bow your head slightly.

“I’m going to make this short,” the Slender Man begins. “Miss Reader, I am satisfied with your progress these past six months.”

“Thank you, Sir,” both you and Masky reply.

The tall man hums. “However, you have only reached half of what you used to be. I believe the longer you stay in this group, the better you will become.”

You take in a sharp breath.

“Does that bother you?” The Slender Man doesn’t sound mad.

“I…”

Masky mentally clicks his tongue at you, and you glance over through the corner of your eye.

You decide to respond carefully. “I know normalcy… Sir, I don’t know if this life was ever meant for me, but,” you take in a deep breath and ball your fists to ground yourself. “If this is what you want of me, I will do it.”

The Slender Man chuckles. “Timothy, you’ve done an excellent job with this one. Perhaps I should have placed Pariah with you,” he emptily thinks aloud with another slight laugh. “I regret to inform you Miss Reader, that normalcy was never an option. You will go back with your team and you will continue to better yourself until I say otherwise.” He makes no move to stand from his desk, but his hands reach out.

Taking that as a nonverbal cue, you and Masky stand and each take a large hand.

The Slender Man’s fingers close around your much smaller hands before his hand leaves your grasp entirely. Instead of striking you, he gently cups your cheek. “Now go. I look forward to seeing you in six months.” The warmth is gone from his tone but lingers like doused coals in a still simmering fireplace.

“Thank you for your time,” Masky bows slightly, nodding for you to follow.

Without any other words, you nod to your boss and follow Masky out. The two of you trade silent conversation as you exit the mansion and back to the car. You slip in just like you did six months ago, and so too does Masky. The car comes to life, and you begin to peel out of the parking lot, back to Mississippi.

“How are you feeling?” Masky asks as he pulls down the sun visor after squinting at the beams of light.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you say in slight surprise. “Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Or,” Masky begins. “You were always meant for this.”

You laugh in response and smack his shoulder lighter. “You know you’re not slick, right?” You tease as you stick your tongue out.

Masky chuckles deeply and gets back on the expressway. “I try when I can.”

“Oh really?” You pretend to be shocked. “Where was that smooth talking when I first met you?”

“Out the window because I just met you,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You are literally the worst,” you teasingly scoff.

“Right back at you,” Masky breathily laughs. His dark eyes stay focused on the road as

you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Really though,” you say as you stretch slightly. “Thanks for not killing me.” You look at him with such gentle eyes that he can’t help but smile just as genuinely in response.

Masky won’t lie, he was admittedly worried for you in the beginning. What with you running away all the time, speaking ill of literally everyone, almost getting everyone caught by the cops… You were colorful, for lack of better words. It’s been nice cultivating that into something better. Maybe you’d make something of yourself out of this garbage fire of a hiccup.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “It’s my responsibility to watch out for you anyways,” he says as before honking at someone who almost swerved into your lane. “Besides, you’re not all too bad, and as long as it’s me making sure you don’t set shit on fire… Think we’ll be just fine.” He looks over at you and smiles warmly - it feels like the sun - before he turns back to the road.

You hum contentedly as your hand reaches for the radio. You turn up the music and let it play, a serene, comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

[allegra-writes]

“Teeth”

Peter Parker x Anti-hero!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, chocking kink, rough sex.

Part XI of the "Mercy" series

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

"Something in the way you look into my eyes... I don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive"

Teeth - 5SOS

Peter was going to be sick.

He hadn't felt sick in years, ever since the spider bite, but he was sure his stomach was about to turn any second now.

It was all in front of his eyes, the darkest, most confidential of S.H.I.E.L.D's files. Project Lazarus. Nick Fury’s  unethical, insane scheme to get the original six back together, using the kree blood running through Captain Marvel's veins to reanimate the fallen ones. And you had been the ultimate guinea pig, the final test.

And Peter had been the one to authorize it.

The name on the files was your father's, but Bucky had only consented after Peter…

He ran, barely making it to the ensuite on time to empty the contents of his stomach into the sink. He let the water flow to wash the foul liquid away.

That wasn't even the worst. Oh no, that was barely the top of the iceberg. The most horrifying part, the part that was going to give him nightmares for weeks, was that protocol. The T.A.H.I.T.I. protocol, a machine wired directly to your brain, with your skull splitted open, erasing everything Fury considered you didn't need. There were even fucking reports about how much more docile and happier you were after forgetting your mother's death, and your subsequent murderous rampage.

And at least half of it was bullshit. They had told you about Natasha the very same day you had woken up, asking for your mommy in russian, breaking their hearts in a thousand pieces once they understood what was going on.

He sprayed some cold water on his face, trying to regain his composure. As bad as he was feeling, it was probably nothing compared to what you were feeling. He had to get it together, for you. He rinsed his mouth and dried his face with a towel, stepping back into his room.

But you were nowhere to be found.  

His heart fell to his stomach. He scrambled to put on a pair of sweats, cursing the valuable seconds he was wasting, before running at breakneck speed through hallways and flights of stairs until he reached your floor. By the time he barged into your room, he was out of breath.

“No” It came out as a whisper, a barely audible gasp at finding his worst suspicions confirmed.

There you were, fully dressed, a backpack open on your bed with a few clothes thrown haphazardly inside as you raided your bedroom for weapons.

“No” He repeated, more firmly, when you passed by him. He was met with more silence, as you took your small Glock 42 and checked the magazine. You wouldn't even look at him. You couldn't. You knew that if you as much as met those warm coffee eyes, bright with tears, you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to do it, you wouldn't be able to leave him.

And you had to. Peter didn't know, you were certain, he didn't mean to do so, but he was playing right into the role director Fury intended for him to play: A distraction and an anchor, something to stay for, to keep you loyal to the avengers.

Just like Hydra had used your father to keep your mother in line once, a long time ago. She had told you that story, told you about your dad's face, frozen inside a cryogenic pod. And she had taught you, with tears in her eyes, the motto you had lived your whole life by, up until now: ‘Your first and most important loyalty, must always be to yourself’

You counted your bullets, and tucked the gun into the thigh holster under your skirt. It was time to honor that law.

Peter stepped in front of you, halting your advances,

“Y/n, stop, talk to me, please!” He reached for your hand, but you avoided his touch. You knew what would happen if he touched you.

“It’s over, Peter” Your voice washed over him like a bucket of cold water, chilling him to the bone, “I’m leaving”

The words knocked all the air out of his chest, like a physical blow. He knew your first reaction would be to fly, your mother had raised you your whole life to make self preservation your first instinct. He had feared you would leave him behind.

But somehow, Peter had never pictured you would want to leave him.

He could feel his eyes burn, smell the salt of his own tears. He choked on the question that wanted to escape his throat, it was useless questioning why: He was still pretty much a stranger to you, all of them were. You weren't one to trust easily in strangers, and you had just been proven right. But comprehending didn't make it any less painful.

“Take me with you” He was conscious of the futility of his request as he said the words but he had to try. He had to.

You stopped your packing, meeting his eyes. But he found nothing in yours. No warmth. No trust. Nothing but the cold fire of your barely contained rage, algid and terrible. Peter had seen that look before, back in a barn on a stormy night. He regretted, for what was probably the thousandth time, not running away with you then, instead of asking you to stay with him.

“I was there” He tried again, “the night you tried to kill Clint”

“I know” You interrupted him, “I just read the file”

“I asked you to stay that night. You wanted to run and instead of asking you to let me go with you, I asked you to stay. I’m not making that mistake again. Let me go with you”

Unknowingly, Peter had just confirmed your worst suspicions. He had been the key piece in Fury's chess game from the very beginning, sending him after you over and over again despite his failures, he had set the bait. And you had fallen straight into his trap, forgetting all your training, giving up your own freedom… for a boy.

You weren’t making the same mistake twice either.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

He watched as in slow motion how you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, realizing then that the only way to stop you from leaving was to physically stop you. Desperate, he let his instinct take over in one last attempt to keep you there.

He tackled you, your body hitting the floor hard, all the air knocked out of your lungs at once. Your wrists hurt where his hands pinned them to the floor as he straddled you, a feeling of deja vu washing over him as he looked down at your furious face, but you weren't the same girl he had webbed down to the faded hardwood of that dingy apartment almost a year ago. Not anymore. Six months of training with the winter soldier, the handler of widows himself, had made you even deadlier than you already were.

You tangled your ankle around one of his own, bucking your hips up, pushing him out of balance as you rolled him over, landing on top of him, hand firm around his throat.

“You think you can stop me?” There was venom, and contempt, in your words, his spider sense flaring up. But tried as he may, he couldn't move, couldn't even look away. He was a fly, trapped and defenseless, in your web. He had always been. How foolish and conceited of him, calling himself Spider-man, when there, laying underneath you, he finally understood what a real predator was.

“You think you can get on top of me? Think you can dominate me, boy?” You felt Peter's gulp under your palm. It was tempting, so tempting…

So you squeezed, just a little, watching his pupils blow wide with adrenaline, equal parts crisp trepidation and desire.  Peter’s head was spinning, and it wasn't just from lack of oxygen. He didn't know the exact moment you went from fighting him to claw at his clothes, but you were, and he was aiding you, ripping yet another one of your panties, another casualty in the warfare of your relationship, guiding your hips down as you braced yourself, one hand on the floor, the other one still around his neck. Unlike him, who was hard from the moment he felt your hands on his skin, you weren't ready, nowhere near wet enough, but you didn't care: The slight burn grounded you, made everything sharper. This wasn't about placer anyway, this was a punishment. For Peter, for making you feel the things he made you feel; and for you, for allowing them to grow and fester in your heart.

He seemed to like it, though, hips bucking to meet yours, breathless sounds leaving his lips as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“You like this, don't you?” You marveled, “Like it rough, boy?”

It wasn't your old ‘baby boy’, the one that belied your tenderness as you did the most depraved things to him. But it was close enough to get his heart racing.

“Pathetic” You decided, as you felt his pulse pick up under your hand. He whimpered, tears pricking at his eyes, and at last, you let go of his neck, placing both hands flat on his muscular chest for leverage. It wasn’t long before you were breathless too, as taking his cock became easier and easier with every downward stroke.

“Shit... I’ll give it to you, spidey… your dick feels amazing…” You gasped, little frown of concentration on your face, lips parted, unable to contain your little moans. How could he ever let you go, when you were the most exquisite thing Peter had witnessed in his whole life?

“Too much for you, little spider?” He could do nothing but sob as you teased him, cruelly, tightening your muscles around him “...Or not enough?”

You leaned forward, tracing your tongue over his open lips, but quickly withdrawing when he tried to capture yours in a kiss. You changed your pace, no longer bouncing but rocking on top of him, grinding your clit against his pelvis, enjoying the electricity that the friction created on your little pearl of nerves.

Meanwhile, Peter was a mess underneath you, tears now flowing freely, whimpering, and shaking, fisting the fabric of your skirt so hard that you heard it rip. But still not daring to complain.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you? Could do anything I want with you… use you anyway I wanted to…”

You felt him twitch inside you at your words, another whine escaping his chest.

“I could ruin you, ride you so hard… get you so close… and stop right before you come”

He shook his head frantically, desperate, but still, he kept silent.

“You don't want that? But you'd take it anyway, wouldn't you?”

He closed his eyes, unable to meet yours, ashamed. That was all the answer you needed,

“You would. Because you are mine… my pretty toy… to use… to fuck…” You picked up your pace, bouncing up and down his cock, and he couldn't contain himself anymore,

“Yes!” He cried, “I’m yours! All yours!”

“My slutty boy” You praised, legs burning with the strain and exhaustion of the night, but stopping was not an option. You were close, drunk on the power of having such a strong superhuman submitting to you, such a gorgeous man turned into a needy, desperate puddle between your legs.

“Please” He begged, pitifully.

“What do you need, little boy?”

His fingers closed around your wrist, guiding your hand until it was back around his neck, and you understood. You could have mocked him again, humiliated him farther, make him beg for it. But something inside his coffee eyes stopped you. It wasn't trust, no. You could practically smell the fear, the sharp tang of epinephrine coming off his pores, every hair on his body still standing on end, proof of his spider sense still on high alert…

No. It was deeper than that. It was surrender. He knew you could as easily give him what he wanted, as turn on him. Never, not even back it that farm, had been more evident to him that the hand he loved to hold was a weapon.

But he couldn't help never wanting to let go.

“Я тебя люблю” He croaked, throat dry and sore from your manhandling, but still clear enough to make your hips falter.

“What did you just say?” You breathed, stunned.

“Я тебя люблю” He repeated, more clearly, hands sliding up your thighs, till he had handfuls of your ass, “I love you…”

“Shut up” You hissed.

“I won't. I love you” Peter felt as your nails dug on his chest, until he had five bloody crescent marks to match the ones on his back, “I love you…”

You squeezed his neck harder, until he was really struggling for air, black spots dancing in his vision.

“I love you” It was nothing but a gasp.

You made a frustrated noise, but there was no denying the way your walls fluttered around him. And there was no stopping your hips, working him ferociously, fucking yourself on his cock without mercy. You were falling already, falling apart for him.

“Come with me” It was a command. It was a request. It was an invitation.

And Peter knew you weren't just talking about his release.

To be continued...

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch20: Bent But Not Yet Broken

Summary: The team are still searching for Katie, but with little luck. Meanwhile, she’s at the mercy of HYDRA…until help comes from a very unlikely place.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, beatings, smut (via flashbacks), brief descriptions and mentions of rape and torture. Major angst. 18+

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

A/N: I’m loving the banner for these three chapters!! And the edits @angrybirdcr​

Chapter 19

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie awoke alone wherever she was. They had driven her from the place she was taken for hours, right into the night, when she had been dragged out of the back of a van and shoved harshly into what looked like some kind of old factory, down a number of steps so she knew she was underground. They had offered her nothing, no food, or water and she’d simply curled up on the hard bed in the corner of the room and cried until she had fallen asleep.

She had no idea how long she had been there, no idea. There were no windows, just artificial light so she had no way of using the cycle of day and night. Eventually, the lock of the door clicked and she jumped to her feet as the door opened, and the large, burly man who reminded her of Rumlow stepped into her cell. Katie swallowed, but maintained her stance, her eyes locking onto his, jaw jutting up defiantly as he stepped towards her.

“My name is Jones, and I’m in charge of your interrogation.” he sneered.

Still she said nothing.

She was dragged to another room by this Jones, who sat in a chair opposite her with another agent, and asked what she knew about what SHIELD was up to, now it was under the control of Coulson. And then them targeting her made perfect sense, she was the only Avenger that knew he was alive (Ward had no idea she had told Steve) They informed her they knew she had to be working alongside him to track the Sceptre and HYDRA, even though she hadn’t seen him for months. 

And once more, she said nothing.

If it wasn’t so serious Katie would have laughed at their stupidity. Dumb fuckers had no idea about anything. She hadn’t given the sceptre a second thought since the Chitauri fight in New York and she certainly didn’t know where it was, or that Coulson had been tracking it.

She continued to say nothing when they drilled her about what she knew as to the whereabouts of Bucky, the ‘Asset’ or ‘Soldat’ as they referred to him. At that point, she had looked directly at the idiot who had been asking the questions wondering if he was born this stupid or if he suffered some kind of brain injury later in life, because only an idiot could possibly think that if the Avengers knew where he was that they would let HYDRA get their hands on him again. Unable to hold it in anymore, she’d laughed and simply shook her head. 

They stuck pins under her nails for that one, but still she hadn’t broken. Although it fucking hurt, like nothing had hurt before. She’d been unable to stop the tears of pain falling down her cheeks, but she made no noise as she trembled through the ordeal. Instead she tried to remember her training, allowing her mind to focus out, concentrate on something else, something nice. Something safe…

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS inquired again. Katie gave an exasperated sigh. Her alarm hadn’t gone off and it had been Steve that had awoken her half hour later than she wanted when his alarm went off. Now she was running, running way behind. She hadn’t even had chance to do her make up. Thankfully, at Steve’s insistence she had packed the night before. "Yes J?” “Mr. Stark has informed me that he’s begun to slowly pour out your coffee. If you don’t hurry, there won’t be any left.” She rolled her eyes, shoved her make up punch in the bag she was taking with her- plenty of time to do it on the way. The flight would be a few hours. She grabbed her bag, headed into the hallway and Steve walked out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “I gotta go baby I’m sooo late.” She sighed “Tony will be having a fit.” Steve chuckled and quickly scanned her up and down.

“Nice suit.”

She glanced down at her black pinstriped jacket, trousers and a simple light blue button down.

“You making funna me?” she teased.

He shook his head “Not at all. You’re gorgeous as ever.” “Charmer.” she grinned as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss before she turned on her heels. “Love you.” She tossed over her shoulder. “You too” he smiled “See you later.”

She clung to that memory. The last time she had seen Steve. His soft kiss, his hair wet from his shower, that grey Underarmour shirt clinging to his form. And eventually when they realised that there was nothing she was going to say, they stopped and returned her to her cell leaving her alone once more.

Katie wasn’t stupid enough not to understand that there was an element of revenge in all of this too. Revenge on her, and Steve, at the fact they had been a key part of bringing Hydra to the broken, shattered organisation it now was. And as she sat there alone, nursing her sore fingers, she could do nothing but wish they had killed every, last one of the fuckers.

As time ticked by the interrogations continued. She had her fingernails dug up with pins, she was water-boarded, strangled to the point of passing out, and it was always the same. They’d push her, she’d continue to fight, and then then they would stop. They’d leave her for another stretch of time in that room, feeding her whatever meagre morsels they decided upon, deliberately weakening her system, and would come at her again.

But, the thing with being in Solitary confinement is that you have a lot of time to think. And think she did, whilst she nursed her various injuries. As such Katie had a pretty good idea now why they were so bothered about Coulson and SHIELD tracking the sceptre. There had been records of it in any of the files dumped on the internet when they had released SHIELD and HYDRA’s secrets to the world but she suspected it was in HYDRA’s possession and had been from the start, taken by Sitwell and STRIKE from the tower once they had defeated Loki. She further surmised, that it had been taken to the specialist department, STATION just like the rest of the Chitauri shit that they had recovered. Which meant that Strucker must have it. And they were worried for some reason that SHIELD were coming for it.

And then one day, they swiftly changed tact.

“All you need to do is tell me what the Avengers and SHIELD are planning next and you’ll be free to go.” Jones said, looking at her as she stood in her cell.

Katie snorted, because really? Did they think she was that stupid? She knew he was full of shit, he had no intention of releasing her. Even if she did or could cooperate, she’d be dead when they had what then needed. At least this way, whilst they thought she knew something, they would keep her alive. And the longer she was alive, the more chance the team had of finding her

Her snort earned her a sharp punch to the face which caused her to tall to the floor, where she received a harsh kick in the ribs, leaving her winded before he turned on his heels and left. Groaning, she pulled herself up over to her bed and lay on her side, wiping at the blood and tears on her face.

More time went by, and then she was pulled back out and dragged to the familiar, clinically white room they like to ‘interrogate her in’. This time they threatened to go back and find Tony, Steve, the rest of her friends and family, and kill them all. But this time she didn’t snort, she full on laughed, because the thought of them trying to get into the tower and meeting Earth’s Mightiest Heroes was hilarious. And the laughter just wouldn’t stop.

That was until she got a back hander across the face and another punch in the ribs.

But the next time they try something else, they almost break her. Almost.

They came for her in her cell and first off they took her rings. They’d already taken her necklace and her bracelet but they’d left these with her for some reason. But now, they wanted them. First off they went for the sparkling diamond on her left hand. She should just have let them have it, but she couldn’t. It’s her’s, her ‘big, fuck off Tiffany diamond’, her princess cut engagement ring that she had always dreamed of. So she tried to fight, and screamed when she felt and heard her fingers snap as Jones stamped on her hand. When they went for the emerald on her right, she was too caught up with the pain in her left to fight for that one. This time they were the ones laughing at her, laughing at her pain as she held her bust hand close and choked on deep sobs.

And then Jones did something far more humiliating and degrading and forced himself on her. She put up as good a fight as she could, considering the state her hand was in, but someone else grabbed her painful fingers and pinned her arms above her head, sniggering, calling her a “SHIELD slut…” The pain of him inside her was excruciating, but as she opened her mouth to scream at him, she looked in his face and knew that was what the bastard wanted. So instead she turned her head to the side and screwed her eyes shut. Trying to block it all out.

When he had finished his grunting and smashing into her, he passed her over to the man who had been pinning her arms above her head but by now she was emotionally dead. When he finished, she lay still for a moment before she heard footsteps and Jones crouched down besides her, holding her diamond ring between his thumb and fingers.

“You know…” He leered at her as she backed away, grabbing at her trousers and shakily pulling them up as she rose from the ground “I bet this is worth a pretty packet. You’d think that giving you a rock like that would mean he cares but where is he, huh? The Star Spangled Man doesn’t seem to have a plan at the moment.”

And then, despite the pain, despite the fact he has just violated her, she laughed again because, you know ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan…’ and those ridiculous videos and that spandex…

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the brightest thing to do. Jones snapped and he unloaded on her, again, only this time it was savage. He lost his temper, and she would normally be slightly proud but she had no time to be as she was pushed into walls, punched, kicked, stomped on. She tried to fight back, and normally she would and could put up a decent battle against anyone, she’s an Avenger, but being weak from lack of decent food, lack of sleep, and the various injuries she’s already sustained plus the violent assault she had just taken had all left her weak.  And then the other one joined in. As they punched and kicked away she could hear faint voice echoing in her ringing ears, a brush of a thumb across her cheek, the warmth of a palm against her face.

“God I love you, Doll…” Steve looks down at her as he lies over her gently, both of them slightly breathless, sheets tangled around her legs.

She staggered to her feet and then her nose was smashed by a fist. Once more she was transported to another place, a mission, from way before her and Steve started dating, one where she caught an elbow to the face by some dickhead who had taken a Diplomat’s daughter hostage…

“It’s broken,” she says, matter of factly, as her Captain’s hand gently reaches up, thumb and forefinger carefully tilting her head so he can see her face.

He gives her a pained smile. “Yeah, looks like.” whilst he gently hands her an ice pack before standing up, and dropping a hand to the top of her head.

Katie was tossed around that room like Loki was by the Hulk. Oh wouldn’t it be great if Banner appeared now, Hulked out and ripped the place apart. Or Thor, lighting all these fuckers up. Or Widow for that matter, delivering them one of those delectable shocks. Or Clint, placing arrows between their eyes. Or Tony dispatching of them with whatever weapon he chooses. Or Steve, using his shield to break their bones and faces…

But no one came.

Jones glanced down at her “This is your own fault.” His boot swiftly collided with her midriff one last time. “One way or another, I will get something out of you. Maybe you’ll speak when we take you up to see a couple of my special friends… they’re good at making people comply.”

And they left her, a bleeding, battered mess on the floor.

Eventually she mustered the strength to crawl to the bed at the side of the room, hauling herself up onto the bare mattress. - they’d taken every little bit of comfort from her including the blankets and her warmer outer clothing and shoes leaving her merely in her blouse and her trousers, both filthy and covered in blood. 

Everything hurt. Everywhere. Physically and mentally. And she was tired. From lack of sleep. The lights were kept on blindingly light all the time and she was craving the darkness of her bedroom in the tower.

How long was it since she’d been in her own bed? Certainly longer than days but was it weeks? Months? One second of time simply melted into the next in this place. The sobs wracked her painful chest as she let out the first word she had spoken since she had arrived, God knows how long ago, a single gasp of his name.

“Stevie…”

******

“Errr, do you have an appointment!”  Katie grinned as Steve walked into her office, shutting the door behind him.

“Do I need one?” he asked she turned round from where she had been stood looking in a filing cabinet.

 “Distractions always need an appointment.” “Is that what I am?” he pouted.

“When you come in here dressed like that, yes.” she said, pointing up and down taking in his jeans and grey top “That T-shirt is ridiculously tight, and your ass looks great in those jeans.

"It’s all yours, baby.” He grinned, hands sliding to her hips as hers slid up round his neck. “Can you spare your distraction enough time for lunch?” Katie let out a groan “I can’t, I’ve got a working lunch today as we’re looking over a proposal we got in from another publishers. I could probably grab a coffee though, I got like 20 minutes.”

 “20 minutes?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow and Katie immediately grinned as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“What are you suggesting Captain Bad Ass?” “Nothing” he said, innocently. Before he smirked “Does the door lock?”

 “J…” Katie spoke, not taking her eyes of his “Do me a favour and lock down my office for half an hour, full black-out.” “Certainly Miss Stark.”

The door locks clicked, the blinds into the main office area closed, and Katie looked up to check the CCTV cameras were also down too. “That doesn’t make it sound proof though, just so you know…” she said.

Steve smirked and then kissed her hard, pulling her to him, one hand on her back the other tangled in her hair before he reached down, sliding his hands up and under her skirt sliding the grey material up over her thighs.

“I’m not gonna lie…”he murmured, lifting her up onto the desk so she was sat in front of him “Seeing you in these office skirts and tops… its kinda hot.”

She smirked into his kiss as she tugged at the material of his t-shirt until he raised his arms so she could pull it up, over his head and off. She was groping his bare chest as he pressed against her, rubbing her spot with his still covered crotch. She moaned at the rough denim of his jeans pushing against her, the thin barrier of her underwear doing nothing to stop the sensation.

"Tease.” she growled into his mouth before reaching down to unbuckle his pants and Steve grinned before sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth when she reached in and grasped him in her hand. His hands started opening the buttons of her blouse  then once they were open he gently reached into the cups of her bra, pulling her breasts out, dipping his head down to suck at one of her nipples, his hand drifting back downwards to tug at her underwear. She moaned and shifted so he could pull them down her legs.

As he followed them down, dropping to his knees, he took an ankle into his hand pulling her foot up.

“These stay on.” He instructed referring to her heels and she nodded biting her lip as he threw her leg over his shoulder exposing her completely.  She grappled for grip on the sleek, wooden desk, settling for one hand curling round the edge, the other finding its place back in his hair as he gave one long perfect lick, listening to her soft groans. He worked her with his mouth and her head tipped back, a constant stream of soft moans escaping her lips. He drove her right to the edge, his mouth and tongue knew how to play her perfectly now, and when he could tell she was close he rose gracefully and gently pushed her back, wrapping her legs round his waist so he was supporting her hips with his, and he pushed into her in one easy thrust.

“Jesus…” he  shuddered, as he bent over to gently kiss her, his hands on her hips as he continued to thrust in and out. Fuck, this was hot. Papers, pens, staplers went flying off  the desk as he pushed harder and harder, his name tumbling from her lips, “Stevie…” pure pleasure and ecstasy, and lust,and desire. 

“Stevie!” This time his name was a shout, filled with terror, and fear, and pain, and it vibrated through him, painfully.

With his own yell, Steve sat bolt upright, before falling off the couch with a crash. Shaking his head, taking a deep breath he blinked his tired eyes and the room in front of him came slowly into focus. His eyes fell on a picture of the two of them in a frame sitting on one of the shelves by the TV. Both of them smiling as they stood in jackets, scarves and hats in the snow in Central Park, arms round one another. There are more of them together, and with their friends and family. Tearing his eyes away he looked around and spotted the pair of her shoes that had been kicked off by the door the last time she had walked through it, some 4 weeks ago, shoes that he couldn’t bring himself to move.

How the fuck had he fallen asleep? He jumped suddenly and looks frantically around him for his phone, it was in his pocket. There could be news, someone may have called, but he knows deep down that’s not true. They had no leads, every single but of intel they had had led them to nothing but dead ends. But he looked at it anyway and saw nothing. Nothing but her eyes and her smile peering back at him from the photo on his lock screen, along with the time and date, a reminder of just how long she’s been gone.

Steve took a deep breath and when he exhaled it came out in a deep, pitiful sob.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, his breath and voice catching as he curled up, leaning back against the sofa, his arms hugging his knees to his chest “I’m sorry, so sorry sweetheart, we’re trying, I’m trying, I’m so sorry…”

******

Steve couldn’t decide if time was moving too slow or too fast. The weeks without her were flashing by his eyes but the days and the nights felt like they lasted forever. He couldn’t understand how it was only 3 in the afternoon, mind you, having said that, the days and nights all blurred into one. He wasn’t sleeping properly after all. His nightmares were frequent, only now it wasn’t the ice or Bucky he saw. It was her, crying, screaming for help and him not being able to do anything about it.

Pouring himself what felt like his 17th coffee of the day he turned to see Sam walking into the room. Steve nodded to him.

 “Cap, I know this isn’t top of your priority list but…” Sam turned to check they were alone before he carried on “I had a call today from one of my contacts. They have a potential sighing of Ol’ Frosty.” Despite himself Steve picks up, interested “Where.”

“Canadian Border, Montana. Mean anything?”

Steve shook his head “Is there a Hydra base nearby?”

“Not that we know of. I can take a look?” Steve nodded. “Thanks Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath. The man looked utterly broken, but he wasn’t surprised. Katie had been gone for 5 weeks and they had nothing. They were now taking a deep dive into old intel, the information they had recovered from the bases they had raided and re-raided. She wasn’t at any of them, but then they hadn’t expected her to be. Hydra were too smart for that

 The pair of them wheeled round when suddenly Clint appeared in the door way “Cap… Coulson is here, says he has news.”

“Thanks.” Steve said,

Oh he had news alright. The location of another Hydra base that no one knew about, one they had dug up on the seemingly never ending search for that fucking sceptre. It was a small military outpost just outside of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Coulson had dispatched a team to do some recon, and they had spoken to locals who had informed them that the base had been empty with no one seen or heard entering for years.

“Until 5 weeks ago.” Coulson said, looking around at them from his seat at the table “According to a man out walking his dog, an SUV came straight down the road and into the gates, locking them behind him. A load of men in suits climbed out, so he assumed they were government. Since then Mr Dog Walker has seen armed guards on the gate each day. So they brought something there, we just don’t know what,“

“5 weeks…” Natasha breathed out “That’s too much of a coincidence!”

“Yeah, so I had my team sweep the base immediately…” Coulson sighed, as he looked around the room “There was no one there, but they did find evidence that Katie was there at some point.”

 Steve turned his head away and stood up sharply, walking to the edge of the room, looking out into the hallway.

“What kind of evidence?” Tony asked, his voice cracking.

Coulson hesitated before he pushed the plastic bag across the table and Steve walked back as Tony tipped the contents out onto the table.

Her StarkPhone, in 2 pieces, clearly done to avoid them tracing her, the Captain America shield design that Tony had engraved on the back for a joke blinked in the light like it was mocking them. Her diamond star pendant that Steve bought  her for Christmas and the bracelet he had brought her for her birthday, clasps broken on both as if they had been ripped off. But it was the flash of yellow, green and silver and diamond that made Steve’s heart stop. Her rings. Bright platinum and yellow gold. Sparkling diamond, deep green emerald.

There’s no way she would have given those up without a fight…

Tony pushed himself away from the table, a sob catching in his throat whilst Steve reached out to gently pick up his girl’s rings. He could hardly make them out now, the tears in his own eyes blurred his vision. He closed his palm around them, and walked out of the room, but not before he gave a loud, angry yet broken cry and his fist punched straight through the re-enforced glass in one of the windows that looked out into the corridor. 

He headed up to the roof, he’d been coming here a lot recently. Good way to get some peace, away from everything. Except he was never away, because she was with him, in his head, every damned movement he made.  He glanced across the skyline, his eyes falling on Central Park. The leaves on some of the trees already a bright mixture of reds, golds and oranges. Fall was his favourite time of year, he loved the colours. It was an artist’s dream. Not Katie’s though. Oh no.

“She hates this time of year.” Steve said simply as he looked out over the New York Skyline, not turning to look at Tony as he drew up beside him.

“Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.” Tony mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets as he uttered the words Katie uses to describe Autumn. Steve knew what he was saying, but the pair of them couldn’t help but inhale at the sentiments of the word.

"Sorry… “ Tony sighed, “I just…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Steve shrugged also as he turned to look at the man besides him, lips curling into a despondent sort of smile. “I know…”

The two men stood in silence before a short, despairing chuckle burst from Steve . “You know, this time last year she made a pie,” he shook his head “I was teasing her about being miserable it was Autumn and she said the only thing decent about it is you can make apple pie. And I told her she was ridiculous, as surely apple pie can be made any time of year…” “That’s my mom” Tony said, smiling and he gave a small huff of laughter “Mom always used to make pies autumn through winter but never any other time of year…”

“I didn’t even wait for it to cool.” Steve chuckled. “As soon as it came out of the oven there was a scoop of ice cream on it and I was digging in. She stabbed me with a fork”

Tony snorted “Sounds about right.”

“It was the best fucking apple pie I’ve eaten.” Steve sniffed. “Damned it..” his voice cracked “ I’d give anything to have her here to make another…”

Tony glanced up at the soldier, the tears evident in his eyes.

“Katie told me she thinks you’re the strongest person she’s ever known,” he breathed out. “Learning to live and start again in a world that has continually done nothing but beat you down… “

“I don’t feel strong now.” Steve whispered, turning to face Tony.

“You have to be.” Tony said “We all do, that’s the only way we’re gonna find her.” Even in the dim light, through his own tears, Tony could see the grief on Steve’s face. There was utter desperation and sadness in his blue eyes, the tears now shining as they fell down his cheeks. The Captain released a long, shuddering breath before wiping at his face stating simply, “I don’t know how to be strong without her Tony.”

“She makes me better too.” Tony said, his own eyes now spilling with tears, “And for that reason alone we have to find her. And we have to bring her home.” his eyes turn back to the city which is now starting to light up as the sun begins to dips behind the horizon “And then she can make a damned pie.”

*****

He parked the truck at the end of the long drive, hiding it between two trees and then climbed out, the smells, the sounds of the wind, everything was familiar, but it was clear, sharp, as if he wasn’t experiencing it all through a veil of fog.

This was the last place on his list. He had by no way, shape or form eliminated everyone that had been involved in his programming, but he’d taken the main ones he remembered. And there was one left. A Doctor. A Doctor that had been sadistic. A Doctor that had been sadistic and enjoyed what he did, experimenting on him, on others. He wasn’t sure if he had been the type of person to seek revenge before they had done this to him and he didn’t really care either, and besides, it wasn’t just revenge…it was closure. After this one was dead, that was it. He was going to lay low, try and make sense of these whirring memories that came back to him in a jumble. Sometimes he could make sense of them, and some of them were stronger than others, like the ones of him in the war. He could remember the missions mainly. And then some of them from before were hazier, a short, skinny, sickly blond haired boy. Punk…

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He knew the boy was Steve. Captain America leader of the Commandos. He remembered Steve but he didn’t feel that he knew him. But he understood that he should, the display at the Smithsonian had told him that.

Best friends since childhood.

The longer he stayed out of Hydra’s grasp the more his mind was his own, and it was only a matter of time, he hoped, till he did remember. But until then, he needed to slip away. Be a ghost story once more.

One more…

Picking the gun up off the passenger seat he zipped up his jacket and made his way towards the facility, making sure he kept to the cover of the expanse of forest and open green space that surrounded it. Of course it would be in the fuck end of nowhere. No one to hear the screams. He easily dispatched the guards at the gate, and the 4 that then rush out to greet him are no match for him. That’s one upside to this entire situation, he can fight. And fight better than he ever could

“Pick on someone your own size…” He swiftly boots the guy right up the ass and down the alley.

“You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched.” He turns to the small, blonde man standing up, dusting himself off.

“I had him on the ropes.” By the time he made his way inside he can hear the alarm going, and he smirked to himself slightly. Like it matters. Anyone who tried to stop him was dealt with, anyone who simply ran away, well he wasn’t here for them. They could go. He navigated the clinical corridor easily, by memory or instinct he doesn’t know but he eventually found the room. Something stopped him for a second, and a rush of vivid and loud memories flashed in front of his eyes.

“Soldat!” the voice is loud, almost a bark. “Hold out your arm.” He holds out his metal arm.

“The other one.” He does as he is told, and grits his teeth as the scalpel slices into him and they cut a chunk of his flesh away.

“Take that to my lab.” the voice says “I want to run some tests on his healing qualities, isolate the properties…keep him here, I can study his recover too…” With blood dripping down his arm, they take him back to his room, his cell at the other end of the facility, without even giving him a bandage.

With a low growl he kicked the door open and the man in the chair looked up at him, his eyes growing wide in fear.

“Soldat-”

The Doctor was cut off when a large boot kicked him hard in the chest, causing him to topple over backwards, the chair crashing to the floor. In one stride he was over him, gun levelled at his head.

“My name is Bucky.” He stated simply before he discharged his gun straight between the fucker’s eyes.

It’s done. It’s finished.

Turning on his heels he walked out of the room and aimed a punch to the man that launched at him from the right, sending him down easily. He then saw the flash of a gun as it went off, easily dodging the shot. He turned and fired one of his own, straight into the bastard’s knee cap and he collapsed. His path was now clear and he was about to leave, but then he heard it.

A jumbled scream of names, but it was the tone that set his nerves on edge. It was broken, the scream of someone desperate, someone that wasn’t here of their own accord. It was heart-wrenching, pitiful…and it was female

Automatically he spun and headed towards it.

*****

Katie had no idea when she last ate, it was certainly before they moved her here to this new place anyway. She didn’t trust them not to poison her, so at some point she stopped eating completely. She still refused to talk, and seeing as she knew they wanted her to scream, to shout in pain, to verify that what they are doing to her hurt, she also learned to stop crying out.

They wanted her to break. They continued to violate her, seemingly visiting her to get their fill whenever the ‘mood’ took them, but she held tight, tight to her memories, thoughts, trust in her fiancé, brother, her Avengers family to find her, tight to her desperate hope, and above all else, tight to that Stark pig-headed stubbornness.

She will NOT break. She will not give these fuckers anything. And if that means she dies, so be it.

As she lay on her bed, weak, her stomach churning from the bruises and hunger, there was a shrill noise in her ears, probably from the beating she took yesterday, but the more she tried to focus, the louder it became. And then she heard voices, yells.

The sound of gunfire made her sit up, fast, a little too fast and she cried out in pain as her body protested to the movement, but now she understood, the shrill noise was an alarm.

“He’s in the main lab…” She heard someone yelling.

And then Jones’ voice replied, he was getting closer as he spoke, she could tell “I’ll get the bitch, we need to move”.

Someone was here, and whoever it was wasn’t Hydra. And Katie let out a sob. It was them, it had to be, they’d come for her.

 The door to her cell flung open and Jones ran in to grab her arm.

“Time to go…” As he grabbed her arm and dragged her off the bed she screamed. As loud as she could. She screamed for Steve, then Tony, then Thor, Natasha, Clint…her voice cracking and croaky from lack of use, yelling the first words she’d spoken in his presence since they’d taken her.

She wasn’t staying quiet this time, not now rescue was so close by.

“Oh, now you talk…” Jones gave her a quick slap which left her dazed but, as he dragged her to the door he stopped dead halfway across the room. Katie looked up, struggling to focus and she could just make out a tall figure, blocking the way. For a moment she thought it was Steve, but then she realised he wasn’t tall enough. And the way he held himself was all wrong. Then she noticed his hair, and as he strode into the cell, murderous intent oozing from every part of his body, her eyes started to focus and she saw his face from under the peak of his cap, that haunted stare she remembered from the riverbank.

“Bucky.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

Bucky tilted his head, surveying her, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, his eyes moved to Jones, and they suddenly lit with a furious fire and he stepped forward again.

Jones pushed Katie hard towards him. She fell again, and Bucky gently caught her, setting her quickly to one side as he grabbed Jones who was making a break for it towards the door. He gripped the man in his metal left arm, which was covered by a black leather jacket and glove, round the throat and squeezed, hard. The man’s bones and sinew and tissue crunched and squashed in his grip and he fell limp.

I don’t like men hitting women, you fucker. 

Bucky tossed Jones to the floor and Katie tried to push herself up from where she had fallen with her hands, but it hurt so much. Her broken one gave way and she lurched forward, bracing herself for the impact as she was about to fall flat on her face but the blow never came. Instead, a strong arm wrapped around her from behind and she was gently pulled back into a sitting position, as she fought to keep her sobs and cries under control. She looked up, following Bucky’s movement as he crouched down in front of her. She looked up at him, and managed a small smile.

“Thank you Bucky.” 

Bucky swallowed, she knew him? How? How did she know who he really was? He continued to look into her eyes, green and dull, sunken into a face that is spattered with bruises, died blood, cuts and angry red marks and then he recognised her, from that day on the river bank. 

The day he dragged Captain America, Steve, out of the Potomac.

“I’m Katie. Steve’s Girlfriend. You know Steve, right?”

What Hydra were doing with Steve’s girlfriend in this god-forsaken shithole he had no idea. But he also knew that he couldn’t leave her here.

“Can you stand?” He asked softly.

“I don’t know…” she choked out, her voice croaky. He decided it would be easier, and kinder to carry her. Removing his jacket and placing it round her shoulders, because it was cold outside and all she was wearing was a dirty blouse and trousers, no shoes or socks. He gently placed his metal arm round her back and his right under her knees, lifting her effortlessly up into his arms. She let out a small sob and a cry of pain as the movement jostled her slightly.

“Sorry.” He appologised gruffly, as she placed her arms round his neck for support and leaned into his warmth, the first kind and friendly touch she had felt in so damned long. Instinctively, she buried her face into his chest as he carried her, unable to believe that she was finally safe.

It wasn’t Steve, but at the moment she would have taken anyone.

Quickly Bucky made his way back through the base, up a short flight of stairs she had absolutely no recollection of coming down when she was brought here, and they emerged into the fresh air. The wind hit her face and stung her cheeks and she pressed her face harder into his chest, whimpering at the assault on her senses. Eventually, when she felt she had gotten control of herself she gently moved, ignoring the pain, to have a look around. The leaves on the trees around them were now sporting orange leaves, some having shed a few already.

It had been the 1st of September when she had been taken.

“Do you know the date?” she throatily asked as Bucky carried her gently but quickly towards a truck which was parked haphazardly in between 3 of the trees in a clearing set back from the road. How fucking long had they had her?

“10th October.” he replied

She gave another little sob as she did the maths in her head “6 weeks. 6 fucking weeks.”

“Try 70 years sweetheart” Bucky mumbled back, and his sarcasm made her snort a little laugh, and she instantly winced at the pain in her chest.

He gently helped her into the truck, laying her across her across the back seats, before he jumped in the driver’s side and gave a quick look around before he set off.

Katie pulled the jacket tighter around her and gave another loud sob, then the tears started, and she couldn’t stop.

“You’re safe.” Bucky cast a glance over his shoulder. “I won’t hurt you.” “I know.” He looked at her again, as she lay down, before she started to cough. Tilting onto her side, she tried to stop herself as it was painful, fire shooting across her stomach, up her side, her ribs…her hand…everything.  

“You need a hospital.” he said.

“No.” she shook her head

“You need medical attention”

“I can…”she took a deep breath, fighting the pain “Home. I’ll be safer with Steve and my brother.” Steve. Bucky swallowed thickly. “Where’s home?” he asked.

“Manhattan.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes you can.” she grimaced “Steve…he’ll help.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he repeated. She didn’t respond and when he glanced back he saw she’d passed out, or was sleeping, he doesn’t know. He took a deep breath and for a split second toyed with ignoring her request and driving her to the nearest ER, but he understood her fear only too well. If Hydra took her, there’s a chance they’ll come back for her and she was right. Steve could keep her safe.

So he drove into the nearest Police Station, parked the truck outside leaving the engine and the heaters running, to keep her warm and with his baseball cap pulled as far down over his face, grabbed his rucksack. He hid behind a dumpster, not far away, keeping the car in sight. It didn’t take long until someone came out of the police station and walked over to the vehicle to investigate. Bucky saw the man peer inside before he gave a yell, and yanked open the back door. Bucky took a deep breath, and with one last look over his shoulder he headed off into the cold October wind.

******

“Miss…” a voice was stirring Katie. It was a soft voice, not the harsh one she was used to dealing with. And she was warm, she could smell leather. A bit like Steve’s jacket, but not, because it didn’t smell like him. Blinking she saw someone leaning over her and she instinctively tried to back up, but she hit something metal. Taking a moment she realised she was in a car. And then she remembered Bucky. Bucky had killed Jones and freed her. 

“Where…” she began and the large man spoke softly

“You’re in La Ronge…at the local police station.” he said, gently.

She glanced up, wary. “How do I know you’re not Hydra…” “Hydra?” he frowned and she took in his appearance. He was in a uniform, and he was flanked by other officers in a uniform.

“We’ve called an ambulance…” he began. “No!” She immediately yelled. “I need to go home…” “Ma’am…” “No. Hospital.” she growled, trying to sit up. “It isn’t safe. I need…” she took a deep breath “Can you call home, my fiancé, my brother, anyone…” “Where’s home ma’am.” “Avengers Tower.” she said, taking a deep breath. The man’s eyes grew wide as he looked at her, “You’re…oh my God, you’re Katie Stark…”

She nodded.

He leaned back out to one of the other officers and said something before leaning back into the car.

“There’s been a lot of people looking for you Miss Stark.” he said kindly “We’ll get someone on to your Brother right away. In the mean-time, we need to get you inside.”

She nodded and pushed herself up, gritting her teeth, trying to fight how much pain she was in. With a bit of a struggle and help she managed to shuffle herself out of the car. She steadied herself against it, whilst the officer looked at her and then gently moved towards her. Instinctively she shrunk back and he held his hands up.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I just thought you might need a hand walking.”

She did need a hand. After scrutinizing him for another second, she nodded and he gently scooped her up, causing her to hiss, and he took her inside. She was gently carried through the back of the station and into a warm, gently lit medical room of some sorts where she was set down on a soft medical bench.

“No hospital” she said again, feeling her eyes going droopy again.

“I promise.” the man nodded. “But we do have an on duty medic…maybe she could clean you up a little, and we can find you some clothes.” That sounded ok, and she nodded again, before the blackness took her once more

******

Steve couldn’t run. Not properly. He needed to be in the tower just in case. Not to mention the barrage of press camped on the doorstep since he had relented and told  Tony to go public a few days back.  And he hated the treadmill, seemed pointless, if he was running he actually wanted to get somewhere. So instead he took his frustration out on the punch bag. Every blow he landed was one for the fuckers that had taken his girl. He lost count of how many of the things he tore open but thankfully there seemed to be an endless supply, and someone to clear up the mess he left afterwards. Including the blood on the floor from his split knuckle as he had stopped bandaging his hands. The pain was twistedly comforting, something to actually feel when the rest of him was numb. "Trouble sleeping?”

He turned and saw her leaning in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight lycra leggings and a crop top that finished halfway down her perfect midriff and a cheeky grin as she took a drag from the water bottle in her hand.

He gave a laugh, as he caught the punch bag.

“At half 4 in the afternoon?” He quipped back as she crossed the room towards him. He noticed her skin was gleaming with sweat “you been training?”

“Sparring with Nat… she was an absolute bitch” Katie said, taking a drink from her water bottle “she needs to get laid then she might stop taking it out on me.”

“Or maybe you need to learn to punch better” he teased.

“Can you get divorced before you get married?” she said through narrowed eyes making him laugh. “I can punch just fine thanks”

“Show me whatcha got then” he nodded towards the punch bag. Taking another drink from her bottle she tossed it aside and shoved him in the chest, making him laugh again, stepping back as she passed. He watched as she took up her stance, feet slightly apart, arms raised, and she gave the bag a sharp jab with her right and it swung back away from her.

“Not bad…” he grinned, moving towards her. ”But if you tilt your hips…“ his hands fell to her waist and he moved her slightly "this way… legs slightly further…” he used his feet to nudge hers “this way and arms…” both his hands wrapped round her wrists, the light catching her ring on her left hand “little less high…” he used his arms to guide hers and swung and the bag sending it flying.

She dropped her arms and brought them around her front, taking his with them. “Admit it…” she said, her voice husky “my stance was fine you just wanted to touch me.”

“You have a very high opinion of yourself, or a very low opinion of me.” He said, his body stooping so his chin rest in her shoulder.

“No, I just know you too well Captain Sex Fiend…” she said, turning her head to face him, her lips brushing his.

He’d pushed her backwards, and took her hard and fast against the wooden clad walls of the gym, bodies slick and working together the way they always did. Her hands were in his hair, clawing at his back and it had left them both far more flushed than any other physical exercise ever did…. With one final punch as the memory faded Steve gave a cry of anger, frustration, grief, he had no idea what he was feeling, maybe all 3, but he knocked the damn thing straight off the chain anyway. “Captain Rogers…” JARVIS suddenly spoke. “Yeah.” He responded, his voice croaky from unshed tears. “Mr Stark has asked that you meet him immediately in the hanger. There has been a development regarding Miss Stark” Steve didn’t respond, he grabbed his dark, red hoody and sprinted out of the door.

“She’s been found.” Tony said, wheeling round to look at him as he ran up the ramp to the jet, not waiting for him to speak. “In the back of a stolen car that was abandoned outside a station in La Ronge.“

“Is she…” he choked out, and Tony gave a small smile and a sniff.

“She’s alive. But she’s not in great shape, and she’s refusing to go to hospital, told them to call us instead.”

Steve’s hands flying up to cover his face and they slid into his hair as he dropped into the seat behind Tony, the relief washing all over his body. Tony began to flip the switches, firing up the jet, at the same time as Bruce walked on board.

“We got something?” He looked at the two men.

 “Yeah..” Tony said “Some police station in La Ronge called. They have her, but she’s…she’s not in a good way so we need…” He gestured to Bruce and pointed to one of the seats.

Bruce let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “That’s great…that’s she’s been found…”

“Jarvis, you got that flight plan?” Tony asked.

 “Yes Sir, you are expected at the air field, some 15 miles from the station. The Sergeant who called will meet you there. ETA 3pm”

 Tony turned to Steve as the jet began to rise, the soldier was looking down at his hands, breathing deeply. He was a jumble of emotions, relief she was ok, worried about what state she was in, angry at who had done this to her. He was jerked out of his thoughts by Tony who gently clamped him on the shoulder.

 Blue eyes met dark brown, both shimmering with tears. “Let’s go get our girl” Tony smiled softly.

**** Chapter 21

**Original Posting**

[ground-riot-jack]

doesn’t equal forever | r. tanaka | part 1

bestfriend!tanaka x reader

tanaka has been your bestfriend for years, but you’re determined to confess your feelings this movie night

warnings: angst, a lot of angst, cussing of course, a little bit of fluff.

You and the crazy ball of aggressive energy that you called your bestfriend, Tanaka, have been friends since middle school. You’d been sat next to each other in homeroom so it became natural to ask the other for a pencil or homework answers or to just study together. You’d grown close and decided to both attend Karsuno High School. Your first year you realized you had feelings for Ryu. He was funny, nice and he always made sure you were okay. As the time went on your feelings for Ryu only grew stronger.

The only person who knew about your feelings was your mutual friend Nishinoya. You’re not sure how but he figured it out before you did, teasing you quietly to make a move on the bald crackhead you liked.

You never tried too hard to show Tanaka your feelings for him, sticking to light flirting and usual bestfriend antics. You figured if he liked you, he’s forward enough to tell you. By your second year, you quickly realized Tanaka didn’t have feelings for you, but instead was obsessed with Kiyoko, team manager.

It began as a joke, really it did. Noya, Ryu and you would fangirl over Kiyoko any chance you got as an inside joke about her beauty. Then you slowly backed off as the boys took their job as Kiyokos personal hype man and bodyguards a little more seriously.

Today was like every other day. You were helping Noya and Ryu set up some drills in the gym, talking and gossiping about random things when the gym doors opened quickly, Kiyoko and Yachi jogging in quickly and immediately going to Coach Ukai and Takeda.

“Awe man, It looks like Kiyoko got us that practice match we’ve been looking for. What can’t she do?” Tanaka sighs dreamily while watching his older manager. His task was long forgotten and now laid on you and Noya to complete.

“Oí, have some respect for Kiyoko and yourself. Quit staring” Noya smacks Ryu on the back of his shaved head, who jumps and goes back to his task, while mumbling about a new headache.

“So, do you guys wanna come over and finally watch the season finale of-“

“VAMPIRE DIARIES” The boys shouted in unison.

“Of course y/n, we’ll meet at your place at 8. Ive gotta shower and big sis cooked dinner tonight.” Tanaka replies

“Okay, i’ll grab us some snacks and be ready at 8. if either of you aren’t there before 8:30 I’m starting the show without you.” You send a pointed look at the two boys who weren’t very good at time management.

Once practice ended, you, Noya and Ryu were getting ready to walk out when Tanakas name is called. You all stop and turn and see Kiyoko motioning him over.

“She’s calling me? She wants me!” Tanaka stutters out before sprinting full speed to where she’s standing across the gym.

“whatever, let’s just head home, get a head start in my shower and dinner.” Noya pouts, clearly jealous. You both begin the walk home, living fairly close to each other.

“I think tonight’s the night Noya.” You sigh dreamily.

“The night? Like tonight? Woah y/n, when did you get bold?”

“I just-I really really like him and i’m tired of hiding it. Plus, we’ve been flirting since we were kids. He has to have some kinda feelings for me. And if he doesn’t it’s fine, i’m a big girl and rejection is just apart of life” You huff. You look over and see Noya wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“My baby is all grown up” He fake wails into the air, causing you to shove him to the side. He gasps before jumping on you and tickling you making you beg for mercy. When you beg and his hands finally let up, he lets out a light sigh. “I’m serious y/n, i’m proud of you, plus i think he likes you too, you’ll be so cute together” Noya smiles brightly before hugging you and waving bye before heading down his street, leaving you to yourself.

8pm rolls around and You hear a knock on your front door, before you can move to open it, it flies open revealing Noya standing there in pajamas holding candy.

“Damn, do come in them bitch” You giggle at the energetic boy.

“Ryus not here yet?” Noya says, plopping down on your couch.

“Uh, no. I’ll text the group chat.” You vite your lip and pull out your phone.

“Uh he’s so lucky, Id die if Queen Kiyoko asked me to run an errand for her.” Noya sighs dramatically.

“Even if it was during your bestfriend weekly movie night?” You grumble before standing and moving to the kitchen to bust your mind.

“Don’t be upset pumpkin, Kiyoko is just like a little crush everyone, even you, has so Ryu is doing something for her. He will be here in no time, you can confess your feelings and then we can watch our absolute favorite show.” Noya follows you, smiling brightly at you.

“Yea you’re right, i’m just a little nervous. You wanna watch some youtube till Ryu gets here?” You smile back. You both head into the living room to pass time until your other bestfriend arrives.

At 8:45, you and Noya began getting a little worried. You’d called Ryu but he hasn’t answered. He wasn’t always on time, but he was never this late without contacting one of you. You went ahead and texted Ryu and couple more times just in case he fell asleep after his shower. You sat silently chewing your lip, worried about Ryu when Noyas phone dinged. He tapped the screen to reveal a text from the man of the hour.

Tanaka 🥵✨

on my way!

Noya relayed the message to you and decided to use the bathroom before Tanaka got there so you could go ahead and start the episode. While Noya was gon his phone, left on the coffee table, made another ding. You took a quick look so you could tell Noya when he came back, like you usually do.

Tanaka 🥵✨

also y/n kept blowing up my phone while I was with kiyoko, she almost cock blocked me 😭it was low key annoying

Your chest tightened, your stomach dropped, your heart broke and your breathing sped up. Ryu had never once expressed that you were ever bothering him, to your face atleast. Maybe he always texted Noya about you like this. Your eyes stung with tears that you pushed back. You re read the text until it something else crossed your mind. You’d almost cock blocked him? Does that mean-

You’re interrupted by your front door swinging open to reveal a exasperated Ryu. You stood and ran to the kitchen, claiming you needed more snacks. You heard Noya leaving the bathroom and saying hey to Ryu. Then you heard hushed yelling, but you couldn’t make out the words. You gathered food and took a deep breath before waking back out. You just had to casually ask Ryu about his night with Kiyoko, then you could admit your feelings if the time was right.

You walked in and saw Noya looking at his phone then Ryu and then you. You set the food down and got on your phone to text Noya, letting him know you saw the text. You heard his breath hitch and he looked at you with pity and confusion.

“Where’s my hug y/n?” Ryu smiles brightly, you hugged him but pulled back slightly when you realized he smelled like expensive perfume instead of his usual cologne. He took his jacket off and sat on the couch, and your heart broke more than you thought it could.

There were atleast 5 hickies on Ryus neck, and one peeking out the collar of his shirt, letting you know there were more on his chest. You looked at your lap but saw Noya kick Ryu in the shin.

“wha- oh you guys want an announcement, haha i get it. Yes okay, I slept with Kiyoko. No big deal” Ryu bragged, striking a pose as you held back a fountain of tears.

You tried to open your mouth to share a false congrats but the lump in your throat made it next to impossible to say anything without sobbing. You gripped your sweatpants tighter in an effort to calm yourself. The air in the room grew awkward as everyone sat in silence.

“Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ryu asks, at his question you can’t help but let the dam break, sobs racking your body as tears flowed from your face. You could do nothing but cry into your hands.

“I-i, i don’t understand. Are you okay?” Ryu moves closer but you run upstairs and slam your bedroom door shut. You can vaguely hear them talking downstairs but not clearly enough to even tell who’s speaking. Meanwhile, the boys were having a heated discussion.

“You absolute idiot! Why would you do this.” Noya gripped his hair and pulled.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryu pleads.

“I-You- You just had to fuck Kiyoko on movie night? You just messed everything up! Oh and y/n saw your text by the way! Some friend you are” Noya laughs dryly at the taller boy.

“My text...Oh shit! I didn’t mean it like that. I just- I didn’t. Kiyoko asked me to help her with something and I did and then she was flirting with me and then-“

“Y/n IS IN LOVE WITH YOU IDIOT!” Noya shoves Ryu over the couch, causing his to trip and land on his ass. “She loves you more than a friend and she was going to confess tonight, then you stroll in here almost an hour late with hickies all over you and smelling exactly like Kiyoko. You don’t think that hurts y/n, and then on top of that you called her annoying when she was worried about you. So you either need to go up there and say you like her too or you need to apologize and leave because I will not sit here while you play with her feelings.” Noya says now standing over the taller boy.

“I-, I didn’t know she liked me. I-I don’t like her like that. She’s my bestfriend Nishinoya. Of course I love her, but like you love a cousin or something.” Ryu spits out, eyes full of regret.

“Then go upstairs, apologize and let her down gently.” Noya picks Tanaka up by his collar and pushes him towards youre bedroom. Tanakas throat tight hens as he gets closer to your room. He can hear you sobbing from down the hall he’s walked a million times.

He slowly pushes open your door and see you laying in your bed, face pushed into a pillow and sobbing.

“I love him so much, Noya. And stupid gorgeous Kiyoko gets him. She wasn’t even there for everything. She wasn’t there for him like I was!” You scream into your pillow before looking up and seeing Tanaka standing in your doorway. You quickly straighten up and wipe your face while avoiding eye contact with your crush and bestfriend.

“Y/n, i’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine Tanaka, if you like her then you like her” You sigh.

“I didn’t mean to call you annoying. You know you’re my bestfriend and I love you, but not like that. I’m sorry y/n, I can’t be what you’re expecting me to be.” He sits at your desk chair.

“Then why are you here Tanaka? Here you can have all your stuff back-“ You stand, speeding into the anger stage of your grief. You quickly grab jewelry and stuffed animals you’d received from him over the years.

“Stop calling me Tanaka, and I want you to keep the stuff”

“I will continue to call you Tanaka because I clearly don’t know you as well as I thought I did. And you think I want your stuff in my room? You think I wanna roll over and be reminded that you will never feel the same way about me and that fucking Kiyoko was the one to get you in the end? I’m not doing that. You think i want your stupid hoodie that smells exactly like you in my closet? or even on me? So i can be reminded that I can never hold you this close again and that you will never be my Ryu. Is that what you want for me Tanaka? So take your shit and leave, please” You box as much of his things as you can and press the box into his chest.

“Y/n...”

“No Tanaka. It’s okay. Deep down I always knew you didn’t feel the same. The way you look at Kiyoko, I knew you’d never look at me that way. I’m just your friend right, so i have no choice but to support you.” You sniffle and open your bedroom door for Tanaka to walk out of.

“Y/n, can you just wait a second. I’ve barely got a word in,”

“If you’re not going to tell me you love me, then you need to go because honestly dude, it’s hurt so fucking bad just looking at you.” You bite your lip and keep your eyes trained on the floor. You dared to sneak a glance at Ryu but what you saw caused ur heart to clench. His eyes were wide and glossy, his hands were lightly shaking. When he was like this, your normal reaction was to hold him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay, but now you couldn’t. You kept your hands to yourself and you waited as he walked out of your room.

“I’m sorry y/n. I am” He sighs before leaving your house completely.

Authors note: PHEw!!! i actually cried writing this so i’m sorry, i hope you liked it. I love tanaka so much and i love kiyoko but i saw the opportunity and i decided to hurt my own feelings :)))

[rockscanfly]

Fear Itself (TMA/YJ Crossover)

Moments later Kaldur was confronted with the sight of Wally reclining lazily on the deck of his boat. 

The lanky ginger was dressed for the beach, freckled nose smeared in sunscreen and oversized aviators perched high atop the mop of his red hair. Wally had procured a neon pink deck chair from somewhere and was throwing birdseed to a pair of seagulls leashed to the chair’s arm.

Wally toasted Kaldur with a frozen, dubiously fruity drink as he climbed fully from the hold, bright purple umbrella shaking gently in the cold Atlantic breeze. “Aloha, amigo! Pina colada?”

Kaldur suppressed a smile. “It’s two degrees Celsius out here,” he said, eyeing the reddening tips of Wally’s fingers. “And it looks like you took your time preparing your entrance.”

“What’s an eldritch abomination without a good entrance?”

Kaldur’s hiding out from his greatest fear: himself. Wally swings by to knock some sense into his old friend.

Kaldur awoke in hold of his small ship to the sound of seagulls. 

Quietly, he stepped onto the first rung of the ladder to the deck. He grit his teeth as he imagined emerging into the open air, nausea rolling in his gut. It had been weeks since he first forced himself back onto the open waters he once loved, but exposure therapy was apparently only so effective. Agoraphobia was an unfortunate affliction for a climate scientist conducting deep ocean sampling. 

Kaldur tightened his grip on the ladder and hauled himself upwards. Seagulls.

Which was alarming, because when Kaldur had allowed exhaustion and anxiety to drive him below deck for the night, he’d been in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Too far from shore, by a far margin, for seagulls.   

Or do you mean a Vast margin? The smug, playful voice of Wally West sing-songed in Kaldur’s head. 

Moments later he was confronted with the sight of the man himself reclining lazily on the deck of his boat. The lanky ginger was dressed for the beach, freckled nose smeared in sunscreen and oversized aviators perched high atop the mop of his red hair. Wally had procured a neon pink deck chair from somewhere and was throwing birdseed to a pair of seagulls leashed to the chair’s arm.

Wally toasted Kaldur with a frozen, dubiously fruity drink as he climbed fully from the hold, bright purple umbrella shaking gently in the cold Atlantic breeze. “Aloha, amigo! Pina colada?” 

Kaldur crossed his arms pointedly, raising a brow. “We’re on the Atlantic, not the Pacific. Hawaii is further from here than the Arctic.” 

Wally shrugged, failing to hide a shiver as another crisp gust blew across the deck. “Tomato, tomato. It’s all impossibly large stretches of empty water to me, my man.”

Kaldur suppressed a smile. “It’s two degrees Celsius out here,” he said, eyeing the reddening tips of Wally’s fingers. “And it looks like you took your time preparing your entrance.”

“What’s an eldritch abomination without a good entrance?” Wally dismissed, sipping from his drink through a frankly excessive silly straw. Its bright twists and turns reminded Kaldur of another redhead. 

Wally grimaced as the cold drink went down his throat. “It’s a little chilly,” he said brightly, nonchalantly attempting to tip the rest of the frozen drink over the side rail. A spray of cold saltwater splashed up over the deck, soaking Kaldur’s fellow scientist’s brightly patterned shirt. 

“Ah!” Wally exclaimed, flushing brightly when Kaldur cocked his hip, blonde eyebrow climbing to new heights. Wally not so subtly eyed the entrance to the hold that Kaldur had emerged from, fingers and toes curling tight as the wind blew fresh chill through his wet clothes. “If you’re cold though,” Wally said, shameless, “I don’t see why we can’t do this below deck.” 

Kaldur shrugged, arms flexing underneath his thick sweater and windbreaker. “I’m quite comfortable, actually.” Kaldur strode over to the side of the deck nearest Wally, studying a few apparatuses secured to the side railing. “We can talk while I collect my samples, and then you can leave.”

A pale hand shot out, just barely stopping short of gripping Kaldur’s wrist. “Kal,” Wally whined, giving up all pretext of not being absolutely freezing. “Below deck, please.” 

Kaldur sighed, turning to climb back into the bowels of his boat. Wally followed close behind him, muttering incomprehensibly about Kaldur’s poor taste in oceans. With most other people on the planet, Kaldur would have banished any intruder on his self-imposed solitude to somewhere Away. Nowhere dangerous, mind. At least not intentionally.

Barbara has picked well by sending Wally West to fetch him. Kaldur had been foolish for attempting to hide out in the middle of the ocean. He was alone, to be sure. But he was alone in the Vast, and at its mercy.

That mercy, in the form of a pre-hypothermic physicist shivering under three of Kaldur’s warmest blankets, accepted the cup of coffee that Kaldur passed him gratefully. “Roy misses you.” 

Kaldur sipped his coffee. “And I him. That is very much the point.”

Wally reached behind him, rummaging in Kaldur’s cabinets. “No creamer? Sugar?”

Kaldur shook his head, smirking gently against the rim of his mug.  

Wally grimaced. “Gross. But also, hey? I thought you came out to conduct climate research.” 

“If I can help save the planet while avoiding hurting those I love, I see no reason not to do both.” 

“You’re not though,” Wally said, pumping his fist when he found a small jar of honey. “I mean, I’m sure you’re helping with the planet saving bit,” he amended, stirring what must have been half of the jar into his mug, sipping it gingerly as it overfilled. “You’re pretty garbage at the other half, though. What if I told you you could do both if you came back?” 

Kaldur resisted the urge to ask why Wally bothered with coffee when what he really wanted was just hot sugar. “I fail to see how inevitably feeding off the innocent and sacrificing their souls to The Lonely will help with either.” 

“Not being around people won't make you less lonely. That’s fucking stupid,” Wally pointed his dripping spoon at Kaldur emphatically, flicking droplets of sticky sweet coffee all over Kaldur’s clean table. “And you’re not stupid. Just kind of a coward,” Wally added, slurping on the spoon. “Sometimes. About people, mostly. Roy, specifically. It’s okay, he’s useless too. But also, we need your help to stop the apocalypse.”

Kaldur subtly stole the honey jar back, securing it before the redhead could dip his saliva covered spoon back into the jar. “I’ve assisted in stopping numerous.”

“Not like this one.”

Kaldur sat quietly, hands folded before his face in contemplation as Wally finished explaining how the world was going to end, ‘for realzies, bro’, if the fears didn’t work together to stop it. 

“So,” Wally pressed after the silence stretched out into minutes. “You ready to come back, or what?”

“I still cannot see where I fit in this picture.”

“Bitch me too, what the fuck,” Wally laughed, then sobered. “But actually. We don’t have, like, a plan-plan yet. Dick and Babs are piecing what they can together, but meanwhile it can’t hurt to have as much manpower as possible on board. They need peeps to do like, missions and shit,” Wally waved his hand dismissively. “Intel gathering, etcetera.”

Kaldur frowned. “And I assume that your current mission would be classified as recruitment. No.”

Wally took a long sip of coffee, fixing Kaldur with an indulgent look. “And why, pray tell, the fuck not?”

Kaldur took a sip of his own coffee. “I will not risk bringing harm to others while Barbara is still without a plan, Wallace.”

Wally set his mug down, leaning forward on his elbow. “First off,” he said, raising a finger, “Don’t call me Wallace. Second off, hey dude? We’re all dangerous. You’re not special.”

Kaldur sat back in his own chair, prim. “And how many souls have you fed your god?”

Wally grimaced. “Not my point.”

Kaldur crossed his legs. “And it remains mine. Leave.”

Wally glared, standing. “God, I forgot how annoying your self-righteous schtick can be. Don’t know how Roy puts up with you. No, dude,” Wally slicked his hair back, fixing on a winning smile. He extended his hand to Kaldur, beckoning. “Not unless you’re ready to come with, drama queen.”

“It appears I wasn’t clear. My apologies,” Kaldur sighed, setting his cup down with a firm clink. He fixed Wally with a cold green stare. “Leave me alone.”

The Vast’s avatar had enough time to scowl. “Oh fuck y—” 

And then he was gone. 

Kaldur uncrossed his legs, balancing shaky elbows on braced knees as he buried his head in his hands. Sweat prickled his brow. Banishing another Avatar was always difficult, but Kaldur was amongst the strongest of their generation. And he’d been doing this for a longer time than most people his age. Certainly much longer than Wally West. 

Kaldur had just enough time to mull over the greater implications of Wally’s words before something landed with a loud thud on the deck.

Loud, wet footsteps stomped rapidly down the stairs. Wally, looking like a soaked ginger cat in his waterlogged Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, flung out a shaking finger to point accusingly at Kaldur. He was missing a sandal. “That was fucking cold.”

Kaldur raised a brow. “Then go somewhere warm.” With a decisive flick of his wrist, Wally was gone. Again. 

Kaldur had just enough time to catch his breath before another resounding thud came from overhead. This time Wally launched himself down the stairs, eyes furious as he reached for Kaldur. Kaldur made another sharp gesture, vanishing the redhead moments before his shaking fingers could close on Kaldur’s collar. 

This sequence of events more or less repeated for a half hour. Kaldur amassed a barricade between himself and the stairs to keep the increasingly furious physicist at bay. They were both trembling, Kaldur’s sweater having soaked through with sweat. Wally, increasingly pale and drenched from his plunges into the freezing oceans, limped down the stairs after their tenth round. 

“You. Are. Ridiculous,” Wally panted, clinging shakily to the stair railing. 

“If you continue this foolishness, you’re going to drown in the Atlantic,” Kaldur shot back breathlessly from where he’d collapsed back onto his bunk in the far corner of the cabin. “Conserve your energy. Go home.”

“Stop being a bitch and come with me,” Wally hissed. “You can’t out stubborn me, Kal.”

“Goodbye, Wally.” With a grunt of effort, Kaldur sat up and waved his hand, banishing the ginger again. Alone, he collapsed back against the thin mattress, gasping for breath. 

No thud sounded overhead. The screams of seagulls and the slap of waves against the small boat were the only sounds that greeted him. 

Kaldur caught his breath, allowing his eyes to close as he listened to the screech of the gulls. After a few long seconds, he hauled himself up, snagging an inflatable emergency raft on his way up the stairs. Quickly throwing a survival kit and two life jackets over one shoulder, Kaldur grabbed Wally’s discarded drink, squeezing his eyes shut as he focused on the younger man’s presence. Finding was never Kaldur’s forte, and as an avatar of The Vast Wally would be especially difficult to find in the ocean. 

But Kaldur, for all his youthful best intentions, was a fully realized avatar of The Forsaken. Wally was drowning, terrified, and alone. And that fear sung to Kaldur’s god like blood to a shark. 

Quickly, Kaldur inflated the raft, lashing the life jackets and emergency kits to the inside. He removed his boots and coat, then grabbed hold of the outer rope. 

Squeezing his eyes tight, Kaldur allowed himself something he’d starved himself of for months. He pictured Wally, visualized his exhausted arms failing, slowing in the water. That wild head of red hair sinking beneath the freezing waves into the empty black. 

Kaldur pictured his drowning friend’s loneliness and allowed himself to feed. 

The icy water punched the breath from Kaldur’s lungs. Luckily he had always been a powerful swimmer, and more immune to the cold than most. He ducked under the water, kicking down into the depths. It was too dark to see, so he allowed the addictive fear of Wally’s mind to guide him. Seconds, hours later, Kaldur’s laid hand on a flailing limb. Quickly he grasped Wally around the middle, kicking them both up to the dim light.

They broke the surface seconds later, gasping. Kaldur managed to tow Wally along to the raft, unhooking one of the lifejackets from the side and wrestling Wally into it. That accomplished, he pushed himself into the raft, reaching down into the water to haul Wally after him. 

Kaldur accomplished the next steps of rescue silently. Shaking, Wally could barely help strip himself of his soaked clothes, teeth chattering around rasping coughs. Once Wally was bare, save the lifejacket, Kaldur swiftly wrapped him in a blanket 

Kaldur stripped next, wrapping himself in another emergency blanket as he set up the emergency heater to boil water for cocoa. Hot, sugary liquids were the best thing for someone coming out of hypothermia. Once the water was done Kaldur pressed a tin mug full of the stale, lumpy hot chocolate into Wally’s shaking hands. Then he settled next to the shivering ginger on the raft, rearranging their blankets so Wally could leach some of Kaldur’s body heat. 

After spilling a good third of the mug, Wally finally got some cocoa down. His shivering died off gradually, going from wracking tremors to normal teeth chattering. 

Kaldur finished his own mug of cocoa, gagging at the taste. He’d never been a fan of sugar. “Please don’t do that again.”

Wally’s teeth chattered. He stared at Kaldur, squinting peevishly. “Think that's my line, dude.”

Kaldur took one of Wally’s hands in his own, rubbing it rapidly to bring warmth back into the pallid skin. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“Not a fucking chance,” Wally grinned, pressing closer under the emergency blanket. “Promised I’d bring you back. There’s some very dangerous people who will kick my ass if I break that promise. Who miss you, by the way, asshole.” 

Kaldur set down one hand, taking the other. He kept his eyes set studiously on Wally’s hands, watching pink rush back into the pallid skin. “I’m not worth this.”

“Dude, you just handed me my ass on the closest thing I have to a home turf inside the atmosphere.” Wally tugged his hand from Kaldur’s, setting both on the other man’s tattooed shoulders. He shook Kaldur gently until the other man looked up at him. 

Wally smiled, teeth still gently chattering together. “You’re stupid strong. I know it's like, the opposite of what you’re comfortable with? But we need you. And not just for your cheery disposition.” 

Kaldur colored, dark cheeks flushing. He shrugged off Wally’s hands, instead pressing closer and tugging the emergency blankets tighter around the both of them. Silence sat heavy between them as they watched the little camp stove bring more water to a steaming boil. “How many will die, if Barbara is right?”

Wally scrubbed his hands through his wet hair, shaking red curls out like a dog. “Everyone, man.”

Kaldur held his breath. Let it go, gradually. Remembered a different time in his life, huddled with a different redhead under the serene peace of the night stars. It wasn’t that long ago. His agoraphobia had been getting better before the hospital ward. 

Before, out of his depth and panicking, Kaldur had taken fifty Corruption infected victims and fed them to The Lonely. “I don’t want to return to what I was.”

Wally shifted closer, bumping his knee against Kaldur’s own. “You’ve got people this time. We’ll keep you in check.” The human warmth of him was comforting, especially as the adrenalin of rescue wore off. Kaldur could feel the crushing anxiety of the open sky and ocean creep back up his spine. His agoraphobia was always worse when he was tired. Wally continued, “I mean, we’ve figured out fixes for the rest of us. Just. Trust us.”

“You know it is different for me,” Kaldur said slowly. “There is a reason I am what I am, Wally.”

Wally laughed. “Dramatic? Insufferable self effacing? Kind of a cold fish?” When Kaldur didn’t reply, Wally shrugged, throwing an arm over Kaldur’s shoulder and pulling him close. “Nah, man, I get it. You weren’t a random pick.” Wally gripped Kaldur’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “What you don’t get is that we’re all like that. If you don’t jive with your entity, it just eats you.”

Kaldur raised a brow. “Jive.”

“Shut up, I’m hypothermic,” Wally shot back. A few seconds passed. “When can we get out of here?”

“I’d like to retrieve my boat. And some clothes.”

“So no popping back into the manor, bare-ass naked and entangled in one another’s arms?” Wally waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Kaldur thought he might be attempting a wink, but it just looked like something had gotten into the physicist’s eye. 

Kaldur still smiled, despite himself. Barbara really had chosen well, sending Wally to retrieve him. And not just because of the other man’s entity-granted power set. Wally had a talent for making it difficult for people to take themselves too seriously. And, being somewhat self-aware, Kaldur could appreciate that he was, at times, a little ‘dramatic’. “I think Roy’s suffered enough on my behalf without having to witness that.”

 Wally grinned. “Spoilsport.” 

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

A/N: One part of a WIP The Magnus Archives/Young Justice cross over I’ve been mulling over for over a year now. Kaldur is an Avatar of The Lonely because, well, DUH, and Wally is an Avatar of the Vast because of lightning imagery and the fear of being insignificant (a major fear in his season 1 incarnation, it seemed). Let me know what y’all think! 

[enniewritesathing]

The Montage -Prolouge-

(San Myshuno, early Spring.)

(Bee-ee-eep! Bee-ee-eep! Covers shuffle. Then thrown off. Then put away. Beatrice turns on, then dims the light enough to see.)

Bea: (sweetly) “Elijah.”

“Elijah, wake up.”

(She hears a snort from him, but other than that, no real movement.)

(Bea gives a quick, firm shake.) “Yo, Eli! Wake up!”

(When that didn’t work, Bea gives a shove.) “Wake up, old man.”

(Eli grunts.) “Don’t call me that.”

Bea: “Oh, that gets your attention. Place could be on fire and you’d probably wonder what’s cooking. Are you up now?”

(Eli sighs.) “Yes, dear.”

Bea: “Are you sure? I don’t think you wanna go back to sleep. Today’s an important day.”

Eli: “Really?”

Bea: “Uh-huh. It’s the first day of training.”

(Eli blinks.) “Ah, shit.”

Bea: “Yep!”

(Eli closes his eyes as Bea gets closer to him for a kiss. He grumbles under his breath as she teases him.)

Eli: “What time is it? It’s not five, is it?”

Bea: “No, you’ve got some time. I’ll go make some breakfast while you get ready.” (whispers) “A big one. Coffee?”

Eli: “No, orange juice is fine. Thank you.”

(Bea kisses him.) “You’re welcome.”

(As Bea leaves for the kitchen, Eli is slow to sit up. The cool floor serves as a shock to his system.)

(He rubs at his shoulder to work the aches out. Old injuries tend to meet him early in the morning, but especially this one. It’s a bother, but nothing he can’t handle.)

Eli: “Bea, do we have any liniment?”

Bea: “Lini--what? Oh! Yeah! Do you need me to put some on ‘ya?”

Eli: “No; I’m good!”

(With a grunt, Eli gets up and shiffles his way to the bathroom. Whew, everything is piling up. “Call me an old man,” he mumbles. “I’m not fifty yet.”)

(Two and a half tubes of liniment later -- and Eli wonders why they’re so little and barely any in them. Maybe he should spring for imports down in the Spice District instead of buying over the counter.)

(Honestly, he should stock up on them now, but the only downside of them is that it has a pungent smell to them and he did not want to spend the night on the couch because of it.)

(Today’s the first day of training.)

(Man, how time flies. He remembers how little his nephews were at their first lesson when they were old enough, how excited they were. Then the funeral, and the many brushes John had with self-destruction. The words, the fights, the struggles. And now... gunning for world champion again. Maybe this time, the Triple Crown would be possible.

Eli sighs.)

“Damn, maybe I am getting old.”

(Breakfast is bountiful and tasty as usual with pancakes, bacon, sausage, a mini omelet and some skillet-style potatoes.)

Eli: (mouth partially full) “Damn, Bea, this is delicious. What did you do?”

(Bea laughs) “Nothing. You’re just hungry, that’s all. You want another plate?”

Eli: “Mm. No. I don’t wanna get too full.”

(Not long after, breakfast was done and Eli helped with washing the dishes. Bea walks him out into the private lobby to see her husband out.)

Bea: “So. First day of training. Back to it. How do you feel? You look good. But, there’s something else. You look nervous.”

Eli: “Nah, I’m not nervous, Bea. I was thinking about something.”

Bea: “Oh?”

Eli: “I don’t know if it’s me being sentimental all of a sudden, but... I’m feeling kind of honored that John’s asked me to train him. I mean, I have all of his career. But I also got him through some of the worst parts of his life. Now? It’s gonna be the best part.”

Bea: “Ohhh. I get it.”

Eli: “Yeah. It’s... complicated. Then again, it’s almost five in the morning and, y’know, the weird liminal space of time where nothing quite exists and you’re contemplating your own mortality.”

Bea: “Elijah.”

Eli: “Sorry.”

Bea: “So, when do you think you’ll be back?”

Eli: “I’m going to be honest -- I don’t know. It depends on what needs to be done. It’s been a while for the both of us.”

(Bea points a finger at him.) “Elijah, remember to take it easy.”

Eli: “What? John’s not a little boy anymore; he’s a grown man. He can take what I can take out, Bea.”

Bea: “I’m not talking about our nephew.”

“I’m talking about you.”

Eli: “Me?”

Bea: “Yes, you, mister. I know how you can get. I don’t know what kind of timeline you have in mind, or what the competition is like, but you can’t go from zero to sixty in a day.”

“Promise me you’ll take it easy for the week and don’t try and pull any macho shit. After that, you can do what you two need to do. Okay, Elijah?”

Eli: “One week.”

Bea: “One week. After that? Shackles are off. And that’ll give me time to get some of that smelly stuff that you like and look up techniques on how to put it on right.”

Eli: “Bea? You know I love you, right?”

Bea: (giggles) “Yeah, you really do since you married me. Have a good day! Text me when you’re finished!”

(Meanwhile in the Spice District, John paces slowly back and forth in front of the gym.)

(Lord have mercy, it is too early. What was he thinking agreeing to coming here five in the morning? There’s only two trains that start up that early from Willow Creek.)

(Not only that, he didn’t get much sleep from that nervous type of energy and excitement -- like a kid on the morning of a day long field trip. He pinches and rubs the bridge of his nose and rubs at his eyes to wake up.)

(He wishes his uncle would hurry up. Good thing there’s no one really around to think he was up to no good. At least he remembered to shave his beard off to give some credence should the need for an alibi present himself.)

(He looks up, blinking rapidly to focus his eyes again at the sound of footsteps.)

(And the smell of cheap liniment.)

John: “Hey, Uncle Eli.”

Eli: “’Hey’, yourself, John.”

“How long have you been waiting out here? How come you’re not inside warming up?”

(John looks off in the distance.) “Uh, let’s see -- I’ve been out here for fifteen minutes trying to wake up.”

Eli: “Uh-huh.”

“Not only that...”

“I don’t have the keys to the gym. That’s why I’m out here.”

(John not only gives a pointed look to his uncle, he raises an eyebrow.) “You forgot to give them to me the other day.”

(Eli stares at John.) “You could have least ran a few laps around The Loop.”

John: “It’s five in the morning and I have my gym bag strapped to me. Me running around with it seems kind of suspect, huh?”

Eli: “I see you being a smart ass this early is still a thing with you, huh? Don’t worry, when I’m done with you, you’re not gonna have time to complain about anything.”

John: (fake gasp) “Threatening me already? Uncle, it hasn’t been ten minutes yet.”

Eli: “Oh, shut up.”

(They both turn and look up at the gym.)

Eli: “You ready to go to Hell?”

John: (scoffs) “When am I not?”

“We’re gonna win this thing.”

“No matter what.”

>>>

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader (Modern Domestic AU) (NSFWish warning)

300 followers hc!!!

Oh My, 300 followers!!! Yaaaaaay!!!! Thank you! Thank you so much, I'm really grateful that I got so many loves and supports from you all! I like the enthusiasms in my askbox, and I really appreciated it from my deepest heart!! I always read your replies and gaaaahhh it always made me happy!! 💮🌸🌺

Warning: Sexual abuse on train, and Trauma

You worked at laboratorium and Sanemi is a math teacher.

Sanemi will wake up first in the morning.

He glanced at your side, you still sleep peacefully. He stroke your hair one or two times and scratched his tummy while yawning. He went to the bathroom.

After some push-ups and sit-ups, he will back with full consciousness and energy

Ready to torture you.

"Wake up." He slapped your arm.

"Wake up." One poke on cheek

"Wake up, dummy." Two poke on cheek.

You groaned and covered yourself with blanket. "Shut up."

"Get rekt you little shit" He pulled out your blanket and started to tickling you

You were a little bit agitated but eventually laugh and beg for your mercy

Both of you fell down from the bed, but he put his palm under your head on time, so you didn't hit the floor

"Sanemi, that's dangerous!"

"Haha, nope." He bites your nose and stood up. "Morning, ugly."

"SANEMI!!!!"

After getting ready on your work suit, you cooked breakfast for both of you and Genya. Nothing really special, just some bread with sunny side on top

But for Sanemi, peeking you with your apron from his newspaper is a blessing in the morning.

"Morning, Nee-san, Aniki."

"Morning, Genya." He helped you pouring coffees. "You have exam today right?"

"Yeah." He grabbed the bread and put them on his mouth, about to dashed out. You hold his shoulder

"Ah, no running while eating. Sit down." Genya hesitated a bit but eventually sit down with Sanemi too. "Hm~ good boy." You patted his head

He blushed and chewed his bread fast before Sanemi noticed.

After Genya went to school, Sanemi and you finally finished the breakfast.

"Why don't you drop him off at school? Both of you work and study in the same place." You said as you locked out the door.

"Nah, he doesn't want to."

"Really? It must be fun if three of us went together."

You hopped into his car.

Sanemi won't let you go to work by train

Because one time, there was incident

You insisted to take the train. He was a little bit hesitating but eventually went with you too

It was really cramped, both of you didn't have choice but to stand. Sanemi nagged while grabbing your hand but his handgrip was slipped off, he seems didn't realize it yet. Now, you were behind him and faced his back with some distance aparting you.

That's okay, you thought. I'll reach him when we arrive to the next station.

Suddenly, a strange hand poked your back, stroking and touching you. That someone dragged his fingers down to your hip. You flinched

'Molester?!" You were panicked but didn't say or do anything. 'But... I'm wearing long skirt and it's not even tight today... So why..."

You tried to distance yourself with that somebody behind you by stepping forward a little, but it's too cramped.

No one seems noticed. You just want to cry

"Sa.." You tried to call Sanemi with your squeaky voice. "Ne..Mi... Help..."

Of course, he didn't hear that.

The molester continued his act and started groping your ass. Something risen and wet even poked your hip.

You felt disgusted but still froze on your stand, too scared to scream. 'Please, please no. Sanemi, please help me.' You squeezed your bag and looked down.

Meanwhile, the train almost arrived at next station. Sanemi felt like something missing from his hand and looked back

"Hey-"

He finally saw you.

Your body trembled, your face was red and tears started to accumulated on your eyes.

Your eyes finally met his. You moved your lips

"Sane... Mi.... Help..."

Something burning inside his body. He bursted in to your place, didn't care if people groaned angrily when he accidentally stepped their shoes

"FUCK YOU!"

He punched that guy right in the face. He even didn't give that guy rest or pulled his pants for awhile. He didn't care and beat him mercilessly

"Sanemi, Stop!! He will die!" You pulled his shirt but he seems didn't want to listen to you

"Hey! What are you doing there!!" The train officer suddenly came from afar.

The automatic door train opened.

"Hehe, next time." This fucking molester didn't regret his action.

Sanemi kicked his face once again and pulled your hand, getting out from there. Both of you ran from the station.

You stopped on a park.

"Sanemi... I'm sorry... I didn't-"

"Show me your back." You turned around.

There is a white stain on your skirt

"Fuck..." He wiped your lower hip with wet handkerchief. He took off his jacket, knelt down and wrapped it around your hip

"Sanemi."

"What? Did something hurt? Did he-"

You suddenly let out fat tears streaming down your face. You never felt disgusted for your entire life. Sanemi must be so upset.

"I'm scared, I'm sorry I didn't do nothing, I'm sorry if I-"

"It's okay, I'm here. You don't have to say sorry." He hugged you, gently caressed your back and kissed your cheek. "I promise there will be no 'next time'." He gritted his teeth. Until today, he always thought that he failed to protect you.

That's why, he will drive you up to place you wanted to go. No matter how busy he is, he'll try to drop and pick you up. Or at least, took taxi.

When you arrived, you will arrange his necktie before went off because he's so damn suck at it.

"Ok, handsome. You're good to go."

"Hey." He holds your arm. "Don't overdo your work. Call me at lunch."

"Will do!" You patted his head.

"Oi, I did my hair for hours."

"Haha, okay, sorry." You waved your hands. "Bye-bye!"

He secretly likes his 'now-kinda-messy' hair, and lets it be until he arrived at school

When he stressed out and angry at his workplace, he will sit at his table, and listen to your recorded voice (He secretly recorded it lol)

"Ok, guess what I draw on your back. Hehe. Nope, that's not it. I write 'I like you'."

"Nemi!" (Fyi, the only peope who could called him like this are you and Genya)

"Sa! Ne! Mi!"

"Sanemi. Hehehe, nothing! Just calling you"

This fucker of you will smile so bright, the teacher room blinded by the lights.

You called him on lunch, and praised the food he made for both of you.

"But why do you put the carrot again."

"In this house, we didn't acknowledge a picky eater."

The students were shocked to death when they found that killer teacher has wife.

"What?! That Shinazugawa-sensei? Really?! wtf this world gonna end soon."

"...but the real question is, did he called her dumb and started to throwing chalk when she can't answer his math question or what."

Okay, did he?

Yes, he did. Except the chalk part, it replaced with "Pinched her cheek"

"THIS IS BASIC MATH. YOU ARE A RESEARCHER!!"

"I DON'T KNOW! IT'S NOT MY PART AND IT'S ALMOST 5 YEARS AGO, WHAT ARE YOU EXPECTING FROM ME?!"

He taught you how to do two math questions while you're about to cry and sniffled, that your tears started to wet your paper.

"All I ask is you're helping me to solve my work... *sobs*"

Both of you basically 'Genya Protecting Squad'

Random People: *complaining about his scary face and hair*

Both of you: DID YOU JUST TALK SHIT TO MY BROTHER?

When it's cold, he likes to make you sit on his lap and.... Err... Put his hand inside your shirt and groping your boobs

"...what are you doing."

"My hands are cold."

"There's heater."

"No, the sensation is different."

Revision, both of you are pervert

You get into his shirt and stick your cheek onto his bare chest while tapping his abs

You: *inhales* WALKING BARA TIDDIES

Him: I am what?

When you're sick because of overworking, he's the one who took care of you. He will 'guard' you 24/7 and will always ready in any case if you need him. Plus the scolding level will increase.

"Say aaah." He pushed a spoonful of soup he made to your lips. You shook your head and pushed back his hand. You sniffled, and coughed. You could feel your sore throat

"I'm sorry, but I can't-"

"Eat." He ordered you. You sniffled once again and make sad puppy face.

Not effective

"Look." He came closer to your face and sticked his forehead onto yours. "I won't leave until you eat this."

Your phone was ringing, it was from your boss. You are about to take the the call, but Sanemi turned off your smartphone.

"Rest." You pouted. "What's with that attitude." He frowned. Like it or not, you finally received his food

"Good girl." He caressed your cooling-pad on your forehead. Your half opened eyes-lid seems so weak, you just put your chin on his hand and mewled like a cat

CUTE SO CUTE, Sanemi holds his chest and hurriedly took a photo.

On day off, you usually went together to movies, parks, mall, book store, aquariums, etc. But mostly, you will invite Genya to go with you two

He didn't mind if you walked beside or in front/behind him on ordinary walking or shopping. He simply hold your hand when you walked beside him

When you walked in front of him, he could fully look at your figure, while you busy to look at behind for some time, in case he stopped

And it's cute because you look like a chick looking for its mother

Or, when you walked behind him, you grabbed his shirt or jacket fabric, afraid if you lose him

And it's.. still so fucking cute

This is funny, but you and Sanemi often showing disgusted face and judging when both of you saw an over limit lovey dovey couple

Random people you met on the way (especially waitress or shopkeepers) sometimes saying words like, "Is your boyfriend a model?"

You shook your head. "Ah, no. He's math teacher."

"And let me correct you." He suddenly popped out. "She's my ex."

You sighed. "Stop telling people I'm your ex." You smiled towards that person. "I'm his wife."

Or if Sanemi was lazy, both of you will stay in the house, being lazy all day. Sometimes you made Ohagi or he invited you to play UNO cards

"If you lose, you had to say goodbye to your favourite hoodie." You smirked while shuffling the cards,

"Fair enough." He calmly took the cards while chewing Ohagi. "If you lose, you had to wear that wireless vibra-"

"ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!"

He tend to kiss you on the lips deeply in a long time. No desire. Just simply a gesture of loving you.

Or kiss you quickly while throwing cheesy lines while doing Kabedon

He will make sudden move when you were casually walked in the house and BAM! His hand slapped on the wall, right beside your ear. He lets his two or three front-button opened

"Hello, single." He looked at your eyes and gave you a quick kiss on your lips, sticking his forehead onto yours

"What is it now?" You sighed.

"I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it."

"You are basically math teacher, Sanemi. And you know what?"

"What?"

"Are you my math homework? You seem hard and ready to be done on my desk."

And that's when he loses it and you already know what happens next

He first discovered things called menstruation when he accidentally spotted tampons on the table

"What is this?"

"AAAAAHHHH WAIT WAIT" You snatch that thing from his hand.

"??? What is that?"

"You- you don't know? It's for girls! On- on period!"

"What is period?"

"....are you even science."

You explained him about 'red day' and he nodded.

"Did it hurt your stomach? Because it's bleeding."

"Yeah, sometimes."

"You need warm tea?"

"Um, prob-"

"Is there anything that could reduce the pain?"

"I tend to-"

"Wait, lemme Google this."

After that, he treated you like a princess everytime you had period.

You usually went for coffees in the evening with him after works. Both of you like to sit together while telling each other stories even opinions

And you will never make up your mind for the coffees. So he usually took the role.

"Uh, I- I'll take-"

"I'll take Quad, Venti, 2 pumps, breve, extra-hot, no-whip, Toasted White Mocha. And she will take Solo, 1-pump, whole milk, light ice, Caramel Brulée Latte."

You just stand there like a dumb person

After coffees, both of you will shop together for dinner. He usually the one who decided the food.

"Kare, but I'm tired."

"I'll be the one who cook then."

"Hm, maybe... Shirt and apron only will be good on-"

"SHUT UP."

Three of you will eat together on the dinner table. Genya loves your food, so he usually gave his bowl to you and asked for seconds.

Sometimes bathe together. You will scrub his back. He likes it when both of you dipped in bathtub and with you laid your back on his chest.

"I don't like your panda eyes." You looked up and poked his cheek.

"Don't mind that."

"I DO mind."

So after bathe, you will put Aloe Vera sheet-mask on his under eyes. He didn't really like it at first, but after you put off his mask, his face became relaxing and he liked it.

Both of you tend to go to your shared bedroom first than Genya, because he still wanted to watch TV.

"Sanemi, you haven't sleep yet?"

When you about to pulled your blanket, you saw him with his anti-radiation eyeglasses, still facing his laptop.

"No. Go first." Your eyes are settled at his cup

"Stop the caffeine, I'll make you tea."

You get up and go to the kitchen. You found Genya asleep on the couch.

You turned off the TV and woke Genya from his sleep, telling him to move to his room.

You came back to your room with two cups of Darjeeling tea and some cookies, putting the tray beside him

You opened a novel book and put your head on his shoulder

You didn't say anything but humming a slow song beside him.

And sometimes, if he knew the song, he will hum together with you.

You stayed with him until he finished, no matter how much hours he spended on his works.

"It's strange."

Both of you now under the blanket, intertwined your fingers and facing each other

"What is it?"

"I never dream of living with wife before, I always thought I'll just live with Genya, and being single for the rest of my life."

You chuckled. "Me too, never thought someone really picked me up because I'm a potato."

"Dummy." He kissed your forehead and nuzzled his nose on your neck.

"Sweet dreams."

[tyranttortoise]

How would boys react to watching a movie with their crush and there being an unexpected sex scene? Like these scenes where there's a lot of loud makeout sessions and moans and technically it's not porn but it's so loud and in your face. How would Fell, Swap and Swapfell bros react to seeing that when their crush is sitting next to them? (Bonus points for embarassed, red in the face crush)

(*I ended up doing Fell and Swap bros because I feel like I need to start kicking these down to four skeletons at a time.  Hope that’s okay!)

_______

You and your skeleton companion are watching You on Netflix, settled onto the couch as a nice way to unwind after dinner.  You’re feeling good about the fact that you talked him into watching it; the beginning of the first episode had quite a few literary references that were a little too human for him and went right over his head.  You half-expected this to be a show that you’d just chalk up to being a cultural barrier he couldn’t overcome enough to enjoy, but then the plot quickly ramped up.  

You were both intrigued, wrapped up in the story.  And then came a scene with a double-whammy.  Not only was the protagonist caught in a voyeur situation, but the sex scene involved unexpected nudity (the kind that would be flagged for sure on tumblr, a cynical part of you thinks), exaggerated, open-mouthed moans, and strategic camera angles.

Immediately, you freeze, feeling your face begin to flush hot.  If you were by yourself, this wouldn’t make you feel quite as mortified, but he’s right there.

_______

Red

He doesn’t think much about the sex scene when it pops up initially, except that he feels for that poor bastard that’s stuck watching the scene unfold from the shadows.  That’s gotta suck.  He wasn’t expecting the nudity so quickly in the series, and he chuckles.  “well, sweetheart, ya certainly know how ta pick a show.”  

Red glances over at you with a sharp-toothed smirk, and then finally realizes just how red your face is; his teasing only served to deepen your blush.  

“Hey, I didn’t know!” you respond defensively, shoving his shoulder, while he laughs harder.  You focus on looking at him instead of watching the scene, and try to compose yourself.  Your heart’s beating quick, so you must be more flustered than you thought.

“sure ya didn’t.  i mean, if ya wanted to watch some porn wit’ me, all you had t’do was ask.”  Red leans in, his arm resting behind the couch cushions by your head.  His grin is teasing, but there’s a certain heat in his gaze that’s different than before.  It feels almost like a challenge, but more of an... invitation?

Or are you just reading into this wrong because your mind’s in the gutter?

“You wish,” you scoff, pushing him back with a hand against his chest.  “Just watch the show, you perv.”

“takes one to know one,” he absently retorts, obediently returning his gaze to the TV just in time for the scene to shift from gratuitous sex to plot.  

His arm doesn’t move from behind your head... and sometime during the show, it drops to your shoulders.  

You lean into him.

Edge

Edge freezes up much like you do, unsure how to react.  His face is glowing red, flushed with magic, and he realizes that with every passing moment, it looks as if he’s watching with rapt interest.  

Horrified that you would think that of him, Edge deflects the only way he knows how:  with anger.  

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ASGORE’S BEARD DID YOU INSIST ON WATCHING?!”

“Hey, I didn’t know!” you shoot back, absolutely mortified.  You knew he was going to react like this!  You knew he was going to be horrified -- he always hates Red’s perversions -- and think you to be some sort of pervert.

(I mean, if he only knew, but you’re letting your gutter mind slip out gradually.)

“It’s just one scene, Edge.  It’ll be over in a sec.”  The words come out in a rush; your face is burning, and his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it.  Edge can’t look at you; he’s too embarrassed.  

The scene is still going, so he yells to cover up the sounds from the TV.  “I HIGHLY DOUBT IT WILL BE JUST ONE SCENE!”

“If you don’t wanna watch it, we can find something el--”

“NO.”

He surprises himself by cutting you off.  Edge doesn’t want to admit that he’s intrigued -- or that the one scene has sent his mind straight into the gutter, too, and now he’s wondering what you’d look like with so much skin on display, and what kind of sounds you’d make.  

Stars, he can’t look at you.

“YOU WANTED TO WATCH THIS.  AND NOW YOU HAVE ME INTERESTED IN THE PLOT.  THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS DOES NOT QUIT THINGS HALFWAY.”

He stares ahead of the TV, his arms crossed and his chin raised defiantly, while you relax beside him.  You want to point out his reddened skull, but you decide to have mercy on him and fall back into a comfortable silence.  Edge isn’t one that likes talking during a show, so you reach out and pat his upper arm.

His reddened skull doesn’t disappear anytime soon.

Blueberry

Blueberry feels his face light up a faint blue as soon as the scene begins.  He isn’t sure how to react.  If he was watching it by himself, he would be unphased at this point, although he did ask Papy one time why humans were obsessed with mating on camera.  Oddly enough, Stretch had nearly spat out his coffee and asked if Blue had been using his laptop recently.

The more Blue researched humans on his own computer, the more desensitized he realized he was to it.  

So why is he absolutely mortified?

“W-WELL, THAT WAS UNEXPECTED, MWEH HEH!” he blurts nervously, his voice sounding higher than usual, filled with nerves.

His eyelights shift to you.  He’s so embarrassed because you’re sitting next to him, furiously blushing, and it’s making his SOUL pulse through his bones.  You’re a human -- these are humans.  Do you think that he’s envisioning you in this situation?  That he’s picturing you without your cloth--

Whoops, now he is.  His skull glows brighter, and he laughs again.  

Loudly.  Nervously.  

You, on the other hand, are stammering an apology.  “Geez, Blue, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to expose you to that out of the blue -- shit, uh, without that unintentional pun.”

This gives him pause.  “EXPOSE ME TO WHAT?  TO A HUMAN SEX SCENE??”

Oh god.  You meekly nod.  “Well, yeah.”

Blue relaxes, grinning broadly.  “OH!  IS THAT WHY YOU’RE SO RED?  YOU WERE WORRIED?  WELL, FEAR NOT, MY HUMAN BESTIE!  THE MAGNIFICENT BLUE HAS DONE PLENTY OF RESEARCH ON HUMANS!!  AND THAT MEANS I AM WELL-VERSED ON WHAT HUMAN MATING ENTAILS!”  

... Did Blue just admit to you that he’s watched a lot of porn?

You can’t help it; you start laughing, and you can’t stop.  

Meanwhile, Blue tries to backpedal, while he simultaneously wishes he could hurl himself out the back window.  

Stretch

The lanky skeleton doesn’t even blush when you glance over at him.  Instead, he rolls his sucker around in his mouth, his relaxed grin still perfectly in place.  

Is it that he’s completely comfortable with you, or is he the type that just isn’t bothered by nudity?  Is it a skeleton thing -- or at the very least, a monster thing?  After all, physically, monsters and humans are incredibly different (there were plenty of humans wondering what monster sex looked like, but you’re not sure if the monsters shared the same perverted curiosity), so perhaps the intimacy didn’t translate.  

“there’s somethin’ i don’t get about this, hun.”

“Huh?” you snap out of your introspect.  Were you staring at him?

“why not just have curtains?  i’d always feel like i was bein’ watched.  and that’s exactly what’s happening here.”

“That’s your takeaway from this?” you can’t help but press, your embarrassment fading.

“sure.  what should i be taking away from this?  that i might need to watch you around my pillows?  is that a human thing?”  He gestures toward the screen, where one of the humans is... uh, enjoying the softness of a pillow even more than they just enjoyed their lover.

You swat him with a pillow from the couch, and he moans in-sync with the character on TV.  

A moment later, both of you are laughing.  

You’ll have to remember this the next time he wants to lie on you and asks you to be his pillow.  

If you’re lucky, you might be able to make him blush.

[nyamcattt]

HSR doodles ft. kafhime of course

[ripley95]

Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 10

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 3.5K

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

Shepard helps Kaidan’s mother prepare food for Libby’s wedding. They get to know each other better while Shepard worries about saying something to deepen the misunderstandings surrounding her relationship with Kaidan.

Read to Chapter 10 on AO3

Tumblr Links:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Read the chapter here below the cut:

Shepard watched Kaidan as he went outside to go work on the yard before she headed towards the kitchen to help Ada, dishes from their breakfast still in hand. She paused in front of the doorway, steeling herself to go in. Now that she’d thought about it, putting her foot in her mouth again was a significant risk and maybe being alone with Kaidan’s mother wasn’t as safe as she’d been making it out to be.

Whether she’d be putting her foot in her mouth or not, time was wasting, so she pushed herself to go into the kitchen. Ada was already busy at work preparing everything. She was pulling out baking dishes, utensils and all sorts of ingredients. Thanks to the war ending, and everyone still trying to rebuild society, Shepard figured that luxuries like catering businesses were probably not a priority right now. This wedding wasn’t supposed to be huge by any means, but she knew there was going to be a decent amount of people there. That ensured that there was plenty to do in the kitchen, which didn’t ease the unsettled feeling in her stomach at all, knowing that she might be stuck here helping with prep all day. It provided much more time for something else to go wrong.

“Ah, there you are,” Ada said, turning around to glance at Shepard, still busy getting everything out to prepare. “You can just put those dishes in the sink for now. We’ll have plenty needing to be washed by the end of all this prep work,” she said as she turned back to pulling out more ingredients and recipes.

Shepard followed her orders, like the good soldier she was, placing the dishes down gingerly and washing her hands.

“So, what are we making?”

“Well, there’ll be a lot,” Ada said with a laugh tinged with a bit of frustration at the notion. “Luckily, some of my friends have agreed to come cook everything tomorrow, so we won’t have to worry about it. Still, I want to try to prep as much as I can today to make their lives easier. The one we’ll start with is my famous glazed carrots. It’s one of the sides that Libby wanted. In the fall, we make apple cider and store it in the freezers so it can last a while. We still have a batch from the last harvest that somehow made it through the war. I use that as a marinade with some spices and butter. I don’t usually like tooting my own horn, but it’s delicious,” she said with a proud smile.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had anything like that before, but it sure sounds good,” Shepard said, legitimately intrigued with the idea of it. She supposed anything was better than what she was used to lately, but she’d already sampled Ada’s cooking and she couldn’t imagine anything coming from her tasting bad.

“I’m not going to lie, it’s one of my favourite dishes. I was happy to know that Libby thought of it fondly enough to have it at her wedding. That being said, I’m used to making it for a family of six, not for a gathering of more than fifty people, so I think we have our work cut out for us. Kaidan’s sure capable of tucking a lot of it away, too, so we also have to account for that,” she said with a laugh.

“It sounds like we should get to it then. Where do you want me?”

“I already have you set up over here,” Ada said, lightly slapping a pile of bagged carrots that she had put on the large island in the centre of the kitchen. It had barstools on the opposite side. “I figured this would be the easiest. You can sit or stand as you please when you need to give your leg a rest.”

Shepard nodded and went over to the other side and sat down on one of the stools. Her leg was feeling okay, but she thought it best to rest it in case she might be up and busy helping more tomorrow morning before the wedding.

“How did you know it was my leg?” Shepard asked curiously.

“Hmm?” Ada asked, confused.

“I mentioned that I was injured before, but I don’t think we ever specifically mentioned that it was my leg.”

“Ah. Well, I didn’t always help run the orchard, you see,” she said with a wistful smile.

“Oh?” Shepard said, opening the bags of carrots and picking up the peeler.

“Here, put the shavings in this,” she said, handing Shepard a bucket. “We’ll use those for the compost later. I used to be a nurse. I got my start in the Alliance, too, actually.”

“Really?” Shepard looked up to her in disbelief. She wasn’t expecting that. “I’m surprised Kaidan never mentioned that.”

“Ah, he was probably doing that to grant mercy on me,” she said with a chuckle. “I was only enrolled very briefly, mind you, and this was way back in the earlier days of the Alliance when there was much less interplanetary travel. I’ve still never been off-planet. I’m sure you can’t even imagine what that’s like,” she said, giving Shepard a smile.

Shepard chuckled. “Not really. I was born in space. Spent most of my life there.”

“Sounds amazing,” Ada said, giving her a smile. “Then again, I think anything opposite from what you’re used to is bound to sound a little amazing. Maybe it’s nothing but routine for you.”

“There’s definitely some truth to that,” Shepard agreed. “I don’t know if I would quite call it routine. With my job, there was rarely ever a dull moment, but yeah, I would say space is what I’m used to. Probably doesn’t hold the same amount of wonder as it would for someone who’s never been up there. Meanwhile, seeing where you live has been pretty stunning. Not that I’ve never been ground-side, but every place I go is so unique. I haven’t seen anything quite like this before.”

Ada nodded in agreement.

“I’m not sure if you’re just trying to change the subject on me, but you can’t bring up being in the Alliance and not tell me that story,” Shepard said with a curious smile.

“Ha, I should have expected that I wouldn’t be able to pull one over on Commander Shepard,” she said with a laugh. “I suppose my reason for joining the Alliance was the same reason that a lot of people joined. I wanted to get into the medical field. I had already gone to school, but the Alliance was offering a program where they’d reimburse education expenses. It would have helped me a lot at the time, so I decided to give it a shot. Maybe you guessed it by now, but it’s how I met Ethan,” she said, with a whimsical smile.

Shepard stopped peeling the carrot and stared at her, surprised that Kaidan would have kept such a secret about how his parents met, especially with how familiar it was to their own circumstances. “Forbidden romance?” she asked, intrigued.

“You could say that, though, I think it’s probably even worse than you’re thinking. It wasn’t just the regs that were an issue. Ethan was a patient of mine. Not very ethical of me, I know,” she said with the same shit-eating grin that Kaidan had. As much as she was talking about ethics, she clearly found the situation amusing, which made Shepard smile.

“So, what was it? Love at first sight? Did you leave the Alliance so you could be together?” Shepard questioned with a smile.

“Oh no, nothing like that at all, actually. We maintained a respectable distance even though I was quite taken with him even early on. The first time I ever saw him, he came into medical with a sprained ankle from training. I don’t know what he did to it, but it looked like a cantaloupe, and must have hurt like hell. Even through the pain, he was cracking jokes the whole time. We hit it off immediately, but we didn’t act on anything until much later. After he recovered, he’d come around every now and then to catch up. Sometimes he’d bring me a coffee. Actually, he’d bring them for everyone on my shift, but I’m pretty sure it was an excuse to see me. He never did it when I wasn’t there.”

Shepard couldn’t help herself from smiling at that. From everything she’d heard over the last few days, Kaidan sounded like he was the spitting image of his dad.

“We’d chat on my breaks, but we never started anything romantic that early on, no,” she said, looking sombre recounting old memories. “No, you see, there’s this little hangup when you join the Alliance. Even when you just want to be in medical or engineering or anything not involved in the actual combat, you need to at least have basic weaponry certification. Let’s just say, my certification classes didn’t go very well. I kept screaming every time a gun went off. The first time I had to actually fire a weapon, not only did I scream again, but I also dropped the gun because I was so scared of it and proceeded to pass out. When I came to, I believe I asked if I shot anyone, to which I heard the whole class laughing behind me. Luckily the guns automatically go into safety mode when you lose contact with it.” she said, looking directly at Shepard, distracting herself away from her busy hands momentarily. “But look who I’m talking to. Of course, you know all of that already. Anyway,” she continued, looking back down at the food, starting to work with it again, “I was so panicked that I didn’t remember it at the time, and I was concerned I may have killed someone. So as you can imagine, I was discharged pretty swiftly after that. I wasn’t all that disappointed, mind you. I didn’t have much hope for myself to get over that fear. Yet another area that I suspect we’re different,” Ada said with a smile, no harshness behind her words.

Shepard smiled at that, as she peeled the carrots. “You could say that,” she said.

“Yes, well, as soon as Ethan learned that I had been discharged, he looked me up and asked me out. He really didn’t waste any time with that. I suppose the rest is history. I wasn’t particularly proud of my time in the Alliance, so I think my kids tend to keep that piece of information to themselves for my sake. Now anyway. There was a fair amount of teasing when they finally learned about it for themselves. I may not have been any good at it, but the Alliance is pretty important in the Alenko household.”

“Now, there’s something that we have in common,” Shepard said.

“Oh, is that right? I was never fond of the term, but Kaidan did call you a ‘military brat’ earlier. So you come from an Alliance background, yourself, then do you?”

“I do. My parents were both Alliance. Dad died for the cause.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ada said genuinely.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I barely knew him.” Ada nodded at that, not wanting to open old wounds. “My mom’s still going strong, though. She’s an Admiral now.”

“Impressive. She already sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She is. She worked hard for it. But anyway, back to you. I believe you were trying to tell me how you picked up on the fact that it was my leg that was injured.”

“Ah, right. I tend to lose my train of thought easily. After I was discharged from the Alliance, that didn’t change my original plans of working in the medical field. I saw more than my fair share of cases like yours. I think you hide it well. It’s hardly visible, but I can tell that your leg is still bothering you. I’m not sure what happened to you, but it must have been severe if you’ve only just been released from the hospital recently.”

Shepard stopped peeling for a moment, trying hard not to relive the Citadel collapsing on top of her, or the months of surgeries and physical therapy. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Ada had been measuring out ingredients and mixing the marinade the entire time that she had been talking, but that was enough to make her stop and look at Shepard.

“Has anyone told you how much they appreciate what you’ve done?”

“All the time,” Shepard said dryly.

“I suppose that’s not to be unexpected. I have a feeling most people don’t understand the full extent of your sacrifice and duty when they say that, though.”

Shepard looked up at her then, carrot and peeler still idle in her hands.

“Kaidan told us about the Reapers, you know. I mean way back in ’83.”

“He did?”

“Oh, yes. He told me a lot about his time serving with you. How cold was Noveria, by the way? It’s notorious for its harsh weather. Kaidan called me afterwards. He clearly had the sniffles. I told him to wear a sweater,” she said, shaking her head at the memory. “You know what, nevermind. I’m already losing track again,” she said, as Shepard had to silently laugh to herself. “Anyway, that was all years ago now. I think the right people put money towards squashing the rumours that there was a threat. Most people moved on with life as though nothing happened after the Citadel was attacked. But there were some of us who questioned things. People got wind of something going on. I asked Kaidan if he believed they were dangerous and he told me that he believed they were. He told us about all the push-back you were getting, but as far as we were concerned, it was all I needed to hear on the matter. It’s the reason that Ethan jumped so quickly to go back into the Alliance when they finally landed. He knew everything was at stake because his son said so.”

Shepard nodded, already knowing Mr. Alenko’s fate thanks to that dedication, not really knowing what to say to a grieving widow about loss. She had never experienced anything quite like that. She figured Kaidan was actually better equipped to handle that one.

Ada shook her head, looking out the large kitchen window. Shepard turned to see what she was looking at and noticed that she was watching Kaidan working outside.

“Ethan and Kaidan were so alike in so many ways. Ethan never backed down from a fight when he was able to protect the things he loved. The moment I heard about Kaidan joining the Normandy again after becoming a Spectre, I always thought there might have been something more to it. Of course, I would have expected Kaidan to jump at the chance to really try to make a difference during the war no matter what, especially when fighting the Reapers was so important to him, but there was more to it than that. I knew he had someone important in his life.”

Shepard looked back to Ada then, another pang of guilt hitting her. Apparently, the misunderstanding had gotten to her too.

Ada must have caught the look on her face and put her hands up in protest. “It’s none of my business. I know my kids have been squabbling about the two of you since you got here, but you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Kaidan said you’re not together, and I’ll take his word for it until he’s the one to say otherwise. But my point still stands. There’s something between the two of you. Maybe not a romance, but he cares for you. You’re important to him.”

That immediately calmed Shepard down. She liked Ada’s relaxed attitude towards the whole matter. Finally, she nodded in agreement. “He’s important to me too.”

“So I thought. A mother can tell these things,” she said with a cheeky grin. “He may not have said so in words, but it was pretty clear how much he cared about you, even back then. Every time we managed to have a vid call, I always asked him how he was doing. Without fail, he always had this smile that you could tell he was trying to hide a little, but the truth was really in the eyes. You know, eyes have a harder time lying, and his were always beaming. It was the same thing after he joined the Normandy for the second time. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised at all when Kaidan came walking through that door with you,” she said, nodding her head towards the front door. “When he called me to tell me he was bringing someone to the wedding, he had that same look in his eyes.”

Shepard tried to avert Ada’s gaze, and busy herself with the carrots then, but she couldn’t help a small smile forming at the knowledge. Even if it wasn’t because he had romantic interests for her, it felt nice that he still cared, and was happy at the prospect of bringing her back home with him.

“See,” Ada said, enthusiastically, making Shepard glance back up to her, still trying to peel the carrots in her hand. “The eyes don’t lie.”

That brought out a real smile from Shepard, unable to contain it now.

“Ah-ha,” Ada said, completely happy with herself, acting as though she caught Shepard with her hand in the cookie jar, before relaxing again. “Don’t worry. I said I’d stay out of it and I will. But it’s nice to know that whatever it is that you have with my son is reciprocated,” she said with a smile.

“It is.”

Ada nodded at that before looking back to what she was doing while Shepard winced inwardly with yet another pang of guilt, knowing that it wasn’t exactly reciprocated. That maybe it could have been if she hadn’t rejected him at Apollo’s so foolishly. That now, it was just her awkwardly fawning after him in her head while having to go out of her way to put up a wall between them. Luckily, Ada didn’t seem to notice her reaction as she continued the conversation.

“Back in ’83, I didn’t know it was you, of course. We didn’t even know much about his mission at all, but anytime we talked to him, he was always just... happy. Usually, with those same eyes you just had.”

“Really?” Shepard asked, already knowing it was true. That was the one and only time in their history together where they ever acted on anything. Where they abandoned the regs, and said what they felt. It was the only time she let herself get that close to anyone.

“Oh, you better believe it. And it’s the same look I got from him during the war, too, right up until the very end,” she said with a smile. “And you want to know a secret?” she asked coyly. Shepard didn’t respond, and just looked up to her with curiosity. “It’s the same look I saw in him this morning when we were making breakfast together, too. He’s almost a different person around you,” she said, going about the preparations.

“What was that about not meddling?” Shepard asked, keeping the accusation playful.

“Not meddling, just figured you might want to know,” she said defensively.

Shepard narrowed her eyes at Ada, knowing precisely what she was getting at. Truth be told, she really didn’t know what to think of that information. She liked to think she was a different person around Kaidan too, but that didn’t necessarily have romantic implications. Maybe none of that mattered. The regs were still an issue. She still hoped to be back on active duty again someday. Just because she made it out of the war didn’t mean death wasn’t a possibility anymore. Nothing about their relationship or history was easy. She didn’t know that what she’d just heard really changed anything.

“Now that I’ve talked you into oblivion, why don’t you tell me about space?” Ada said, with an err of genuine excitement and interest. “And your mother, too. I think we all know a bit about Commander Shepard, but why don’t you tell me about Jane,” she said with a smile.

With that, the solemn feeling that had settled in Shepard’s gut lifted slightly. Talking about Kaidan and long-lost wishes she wanted to be fulfilled was difficult. She wasn’t ordinarily fond of talking about herself, but it might serve as a good distraction in this case. Once again, her mantra played in her head.

‘This will all be over soon.’

[lu-undy]

Chapter 40 - SBT

Here it is!

"V, hello."

Lucien entered the diner with Perle at the end of the leash and harness.

"Oh, is that you L? Do you always show up with a different disguise?" Victoria observed his face with as much attention as confusion.

"It is part of the fun of my job. One day you wear a mask, the next, your face is, let's say, re-arranged."  He removed his gloves elegantly and slipped them in his pocket.

"Re-arranged? Did you get into a fight?" 

"Please, can we discuss this at my table?"

"Sure, of course. And hello you, little girl…!" Victoria crouched down to greet Perle and the kitten hissed. 

"Perle…" Lucien said and Perle hid behind his ankles. "As always, my apologies, this little cat has mysterious ways of choosing her friends."

"I'm used to it now. Go to your table, I'll be just a moment." 

Lucien nodded and saw that indeed the diner was more filled than the last time he had been in. 

"Meow?" Perle was struggling to climb the banquette and reach her master's lap.

"Oui, mon bébé."

[Yes, my baby.]

He scooped the kitten off the floor and put her on the table. Of course, Perle resumed her never-ending war with the paper towel coming out of the shiny metal dispenser.

Soon enough, Victoria arrived at their table.

"So, what will you take?"

"A coffee and a croissant… May I have some milk for Perle, please?"

"Sure."

"And for you?" Lucien asked.

"I think I'll take some lemonade."

"Add it to my bill as usual, please."

"Thanks, L. I'll be right back." Victoria spun on her heels and went away. 

Meanwhile, just as Perle thought she was winning against the paper towel, the little metal box seemed to actually give her a second one. How dared it? But the kitten was stubborn and went to defeat her second worst enemy after paper towels: more paper towels. 

"Here we are, coffee and croissant for you, small plate with milk for the baby and a lemonade for me." Victoria sat down.

"Merci, V. Perle, here is your milk." 

When Perle saw the milk, she stopped fighting and instantly headed for the small plate. 

"Meow!" She mewled and hissed as the paper towel was stuck to her claws and refused to let go of her. She tumbled on the table, trying awkwardly to get rid of the clingy sheet of paper.

"Je vais t'aider."

[Let me help you.]

Lucien removed it from her carefully and Perle gave it a last hiss before going to lap the milk. 

"She's grown up nicely." Victoria said.

"You think so?" 

"Oh, yeah. At first she did look a bit on the skinny side but now she seems much more healthy." 

"I am delighted you see a good change on her." Lucien said. "I try my best."

"I know, I know, she's your baby." 

"Indeed she is." Lucien patted Perle's head. 

"So, L, what's up?"

"Not much."

"Obviously there's something new!" Victoria said. 

"What?"

"Your face is covered in bandages! I know you're older than me, but surely you're not a mummy yet, are you?" She tilted her head on the side.

Lucien smiled. 

"You are the second person who compares me with a mummy."

"Who was the first?" She asked and Lucien raised his eyes from his coffee cup to her. 

"The same man responsible for these bandages."

"Who's that?"

"M." He answered. 

"Oh, shit I'm sorry…" Victoria said, visibly concerned. She put a hand to her mouth.

"Why the distraught face?" Lucien asked. 

"Because you… You like him. If he beat you up, chances are what he feels for you is at the other end of liking." 

"On the contrary." Lucien answered with a pleased grin. 

"What?! He beat you up cause he likes you?" 

Lucien chuckled. 

"I would not know. But I think he doesn't hate me." 

"Why?"

"I lied to him about a lot of things. When he discovered the truth, he confronted me. I told him that indeed I did lie and the only way he could satisfy his will for justice was to redecorate my face with a few punches."

"What the hell is wrong with you two…?" 

"After that, and having knocked me out, he took me to a doctor. He told me he participated in putting the bandages around my face and he spent the entire night by my side until I woke up the next day."

Victoria frowned. 

"You two are weird."

"Meow."

"See? She agrees." Victoria pointed at Perle. The kitten's lips were soaked in milk as she tried again to lick it all clean, she still struggled. 

Lucien smiled and his eyes went from Perle to Victoria. 

"She might," He said. "But Perle lets him approach her and she even slept in his hands."

"Seriously?"

"I am absolutely serious. I have never seen her behave this way with any other stranger."

"Well that means she doesn't see him as a stranger at all, hm?"

"I guess so." 

Lucien finished with his coffee and croissant and cleaned Perle's face with a paper towel, which she appreciated greatly, as usual…

"So, L?" Victoria asked.

"Oui?"

"Do you think he… likes you?"

His eyebrow ever so slightly twitched. 

"I do not know. All I know is that he was kind enough to not let me wake up disfigured in the middle of the desert with no means of coming back to town. More than that, he maintained me alive and well, and made all the efforts for that."

"So he likes you?" 

"I do not know and in a way, I would prefer it if he didn't." Lucien answered.

"What?!" Victoria opened wide eyes. "I thought you l-"

"I do." He interrupted her and Victoria saw he was irritated. "To my greatest surprise, I do. But if he makes me believe that he does too, then surely that will end in suffering. I do not want it, nor can I emotionally afford it." 

Lucien stood up and took the kitten's leash again. Perle jumped down to his seat and then to the floor, ready to follow him.

"But if you both-?"

"Non, please, Victoria." Lucien closed his eyes and frowned. "Please, do not get involved in this and do not try anything. It is painful enough as it is." 

"Painful?" 

Lucien lowered his head.

"As you wish, L… But I think he likes you too. I don't know if it's as much as you, but he does." 

Lucien opened his eyes and nodded. 

"Thank you. I will see you later." 

"See ya!" 

A few hours later, Lucien was in the streets again but this time, without Perle. He was on his motorcycle, driving to Maurice's street. He didn't want to meet with the king of beggars yet, he was going to see the Doctor. When he reached the place, Lucien stopped the motorcycle and removed his helmet. As usual, he trusted the few kids that gathered around it to guard them for him before entering. 

Lucien found the Doctor at a desk, on the phone. He nodded to him to let him know he was there and waited outside. When the door opened again, the Doctor peeked his head out. 

"Come in, L." 

"Merci." 

They entered the house and Lucien followed him to a room where they sat down around a desk. 

"So, what brings you here? Are the pills not strong enough to kill the pain?"

"Oh, yes, they are. Non, I wanted to ask a few things if you don't mind."

"Of course, go ahead."

"It is about M, the night he brought me here." 

The Doctor nodded. 

"How did it all happen?" Lucien asked. 

"Well, he was carrying you in his arms. He asked someone who was in the street to open the door for him and I heard him call for me from upstairs and at the other end of the house. I was asleep so I woke up with a fright, put on a gown and came hurtling down the stairs…

'Doc', please, can you do something?' M was pale and his breath was fast. I had to do a double take to understand it was M under that fancy costume, eh.

'Bring him on the bed there… Hm, he is still breathing. Stay with him one second, I need a few things.'

I rushed to get everything necessary to clean your wounds.

'What happened?'

'I… I beat him up. Bugger, I didn't think I could hit that hard… Will he make it?'

'Wait, M, patience, I need to clean this mess.' 

I cleaned your wounds while M was pacing the room. His heels tick-tocked fast on the wooden floor. He would have eaten his hat out of worry. When I finished and could see your face clearly, I started talking to M.

'Did you just punch his face?'

'No, I punched his stomach too…'

'M, do you have any extra clothes nearby? We need to get him out of this outfit. It is very tight.'

'I-I'll get something, I'll be quick!'

He disappeared and I was alone with you for a few minutes; five, maybe ten. When I heard a knock on the door again, it was him with a fresh pile of clothes. 

'If he makes it, he'll kill me for what I'm givin' him to wear, let alone the beating…'

'Thank you, M. Wait outside, I need to change him.'

'Alright, but give me a shout when you're done, alright?'

'I will.'

M exited the room and I started to remove your clothes and change you. You were still knocked out so it wasn't too hard. When I was done, I told M he could come in again. 

'Gosh, his face…' 

He rushed to you and I could tell by the way his hands hovered above your face that he wanted to help. So I suggested he helped me with the bandages.

'Yeah, sure, anythin' I can do… But Doc', will he be alright?'

'Why did you beat him up this time?'

M sighed and we both started to wrap your head with the bandages. 

'He… He lied to me about a lot of things when we're supposed to work together. I… I never lied about anything, I always told him the truth and followed whatever he said without questioning it. It felt unfair…'

'And you beat him up for it?'

M nodded. 

'Something strikes me, M. I know he can fight. Last time, the both of you came in with bruises. Why didn't he fight back this time?'

'I don't know. I find it weird too. I expected him to punch back, but no. He let himself be beaten up, I don't know why.'

'I see. And why after you beat him up with no doubt the intention to kill him, why do you bring him to me?'

'Because part of me doesn't want to kill him. He has a lot to explain. He passed out before he actually had the chance to tell me the truth. But also… I mean… I can't do this without him.'

'I see. May I say, it is quite odd to see you work with someone. For as long as I remember, I have only seen you work alone.'

'This is a different job. I'm not just going after poachers.'

'No, it is true, for once, you are off to kill a man, hm?'

M raised sorry eyes to me.

'Maurice told me, and he told me that I might see you two coming from time to time.' 

We finished the bandages and I had a last inspection at them. 

'I think he is all patched up. There isn't much we can do about it.'

'Doc', please, tell me he's fine…'

'M, you beat him up to a pulp. Do you think he is ok? And have you stopped to ask yourself why he was lying to you? Maybe he should, maybe it's in your interest too.'

M sighed and stared at your face. He couldn't raise his eyes to me. 

'No, I haven't thought of that.'

'I don't know what his reasons are, all I know is that when he wakes up, he won't be happy about the way you treated him.'

That's when M raised his eyes to me. 

'What d'you mean?'

'M, he is risking his skin as much as you are. Maybe he is not showing it as much as you, but he is. Whatever your plan is to get that man and kill him, he is part of it too and from what you told me, you need him. You need him, yes, but he needs you too. Otherwise he wouldn't burden himself with someone who punches him every other week, hm? He doesn't seem like the type who usually needs someone with him, like you.'

'Doc'?'

'Yes?'

'Can I stay?'

'Yes. Let me know when he wakes up.'

And that's all I saw, L. After that, M stayed with you the entire night."

Lucien had followed the entire story and nodded from time to time. 

"Is that all, Docteur?"

[Doctor?]

"I think so… Ah! Actually, a little detail. After I shut the door and left, I went to wash my hands and I happened to pass by your door. I heard him. He was talking to you, or to himself."

"What did he say?" Lucien asked. 

"I couldn't understand the words, he wasn't speaking too loud and the door muffled everything. After that, I went to bed myself."

"I see." Lucien was processing it all. "Well, thank you again for your help and for the information."

"No problem. Uhm, since you're here, we could change the bandages if you have a minute."

"Please." 

Lucien and the Doctor went to the room Lucien had stayed in a few days before and the medical expert got to work. He removed the bandages slowly and took a look. 

"How do I look?"

"Still a lot of scars and quite a bit of blood. Let's disinfect this, clean it up and put new bandages." 

"May I see first?" 

"Of course, go to the bathroom, there's a mirror there." 

"Merci." 

A minute later, Lucien returned. 

"How do you find yourself?"

"Disfigured would be exaggerated. Not pleasing to the eye is, on the other hand, very adequate…"

"I agree with you." 

The Doctor got busy and in a few minutes, Lucien's face was cleaned and bandaged again. 

"You can ask M to do it for you. I showed him how to." 

"I could indeed. Thank you, Docteur."

[Doctor.]

"You're welcome. And good luck." 

Lucien exited the house and hopped on his motorcycle again. He drove off back home, the wheels of his motorcycle swallowed the asphalt beneath him as his mind rolled on the Doctor's words, again and again, like a broken disc. 

M had helped bandage him. He had stayed with him all night long, watching over him. And he had fetched some of his own clothes… 

Lucien smiled like an idiot under the helmet. 

He had washed M's clothes but even after that, they still smelled of him, his cheap cologne, the kind of things that would make Lucien tear up given the strength of it. But he liked that smell on M. Oui, he had slept two nights with that atrociously washed away red polo shirt. He had held the collar close to his nose all night long…

The Frenchman arrived at his hotel again and went straight to his room. 

"Meow!"

Perle came running as she usually did and Lucien went to his knees to welcome her in his hands. 

"Mon bébé… Comme ça me fait plaisir de rentrer à la maison et de retrouver!"

[My baby… How pleasant it is to come back home to you!]

Perle purred and mewled as she brushed her face on Lucien's mouth repeatedly, while he kissed her equally. They went to the sofa and he started reading his usual admirers' letters. 

All the letters undoubtedly came from women. The paper was scented and coloured, most of the time of the best quality. After all, those were people who could afford regular dinners at the Queen Victoria's. The handwriting on the letters was always smooth, the loops and circles very round and there would even sometimes be a signature, definitely very feminine, at the end of the letter. 

Lucien read them diagonally. They all told the same story, read the same way, with the same words or almost. There was no personality in any of them, no real feeling of any kind but the wild fantasy of women who dreamt of an adventure with a man of poetry.

Hm. Classic.

Classic and cliché. Lucien tossed the letters away as he read them. Perle caught them and fought them fiercely. Ha, they didn't stand a chance against the tiny claws…! 

The Frenchman sighed when he finished skimming through all the letters. There was a hint, only a tiny hint, of disappointment. 

"Meow?"

"Non."

"Meow." 

"Perle…?"

She dropped her last foe - she had made confetti out of the paper - and jumped on her Papa's lap. She stared up at him with her big blue eyes.

"Meow."

Lucien rolled up his eyes and rubbed them. 

"Oui, d'accord, j'avoue. J'aurais aimé trouvé une lettre de lui…"

[Yes, alright, I admit it. I would have liked finding a letter from him…]

Perle climbed on her master's chest and settled on his shoulder. She brushed herself on his cheek and out of reflex, he turned his head to kiss her. 

Oui, he had wished to find a letter from M. But now that the Aussie knew he was Lulu, Lucien could but dream.

[shirtlesssammy]

8x15: Man's Best Friend with Benefits

Then:

Freaking witches!

Now:

St. Louis, Missouri

In a dark alley, a man and woman leave a seedy hotel. The man pays the woman and leaves. She starts walking when another mysterious figure starts to follow her. He’s a cop! And starts to arrest her by putting her in handcuffs and then..choking her until her head explodes??! They do things differently in Missouri. 

Oh wait! It’s just a dream! The man sits up in bed, letting the dream images float away. His dog comes up on the bed to comfort him. 

The next morning, the man starts to make coffee only to find a bloody shirt in his kitchen trash. 

The brothers arrive at their random motel for the night, arguing about who the best Stooge was. They’ve had to have had this argument a thousand times before, lol. They’re there to meet up with “James”, a cop that needs their help. Dean decides to go for a beer run but is concerned about Sam’s wellbeing since he just killed a hell hound. Sam’s good! 

Once alone in the motel, Sam hears a scratching at the door. He opens it to find a dog --the dog from the cold open. 

The dog just busts in and makes herself at home. Sam is confused but not above giving some belly rubs while he tries to find tags on the dog. She doesn’t have any. Sam hears the familiar rumble of the Impala --which means Dean is back. 

Sam rushes out to warn Dean about the dog. He hopes that she can just stay the night and they’ll try and find her home the next day. Then he opens the door to reveal a woman on his bed. She’s wearing the dog collar. :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :| :|

Sam pulls his knife as they confront her. She tells them that she’s not a shifter--but a familiar. Her name is Portia and she’s their friend James’ familiar. Dean takes a moment to process that this old friend is now a witch. 

She tells the boys that after learning about the supernatural from them, James went on to become a witch. Now there’s something wrong with him. Dean tells her that he’s not a fan of witches (Oh, those were the days.) She tells him to STFU and help. Dean finds that “incredibly hot.” Sam agrees. 

(God, I’m just trying to write coherent sentences for what I’m watching but THIS WHOLE THING IS GROSS.)

At a Continental Hotel for the supernatural, a man meets up with James to discuss what he’s been going through. He’s a mess because of his dreams. His friend tells him to take a break. James admits that Portia left him. 

Portia, meanwhile, is explaining the whole witch/familiar lifestyle to Sam and Dean. (Like, I forget HOW MUCH exposition exists in Buckleming episodes.) Anyway, they used to be able to communicate telepathically, but he blocked her. Portia admits that she contacted the Winchesters --not James. 

<Insert James having another dream>

The next day, Sam and Dean head to James’ house to learn more about what he’s going through. 

James tells them about the dreams and that he’s concerned they’re not just dreams. He wakes up in his bed after the dreams, but the people are all dead. He shows them the bloody shirt.

Dean tells him that they’ll help but he’s going to have to get chained up. 

Dean gathers ingredients for a witch killing spell. He voices his concern about not knowing what they’re in for. Sam calls him out for being concerned about the trials. 

Okay, we’ve been revisiting this episode for a bit now so here’s a palate cleanser:

The brothers are at odds about these trials. But they sure do look pretty fighting over them. 

Dean tells Sam that if they have to gank James, then so be it.

FBI Sam heads to the police department to have them run a blood test on a piece of the shirt. He also learns there was a witness but the cops refuse to tell him more.

Dean and Portia head into a swanky little underground bar. WHICH bar, you ask? It’s a WITCH bar. She takes him to meet Phillippe. We learn that Dean sneezes over only one thing: cats. (So, we know God makes sure they don’t get colds, etc. now, why does Chuck make Dean allergic to cats?). Dean inquires of the witches in the establishment whether there’s a spell where a witch can control another witch. Spencer, a witch, looks shifty. The other patron morphs into a cat and leaves dramatically, as one does. 

Portia locks James up in bed for the night and they hold each other close. They’re in love! They make love! I experience severe discomfort about this situation, which manages to be both extremely vanilla and SO WRONG at the same time. Sooooo many levels of wrong. While they’re having sex, Portia flashes several visions about James’ attacks. Later, when Sam and Dean arrive to BURN THE WITCH she stops them. 

Okay, I gotta harp on this. WHY does Portia wear a collar as a human? When she transforms into a dog, it’s not like there’s suddenly a clothes-wearing dog walking around. It instead serves as a constant reminder of her servitude and that’s just GROSS, my friends. 

ANYWAY, Portia suggests to the Winchesters that James’ visions indicate that the dark memories may not actually be his. The Winchesters agree to check it out. 

Sam chats with the local police, who declares the case pretty much closed. However, they’re being shifty with James’ files, so some plans are afoot. Also let’s all cringe at the cop’s description of the precinct: “This place is run like a dogsled - no stars. Just grunts. One mutt goes lame, another one pops up and slogs through the slush.” File that under: worst boss. 

Dean and Portia head to a creepy old warehouse, which is always a smart place to be. Dean’s super curious about whether Portia is more woman than dog. By “curious” I mean creepily interested in their sex life and pressing for details he shouldn’t pursue. 

A witch meets them and tells them that the coven is onto James’ creepy dreams and possible murders, and they may force him to kill himself so he doesn’t reveal the witch community. Dun dun DUN. 

Dean finds a spell from Bobby’s stash of stuff that would make it possible for another witch to plant false memories. With that in mind, they check in with James. The evidence they need is locked away in the precinct, so they all decide to astral project together. 

As one does.

They astral project into the precinct and find their way into the mysterious room C-110. There’s evidence and pictures of crime scene photos everywhere. The cops are hardcore tracking James, and things are looking bad. They find a witness statement from - I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP - Phillip LeChat. LeChat. LE CHAT. For fuck’s sake. 

James is shocked that Ed is building a case against him. Um. No shit, Sherlock. James power chucks Sam and Dean against the wall, knocking them out. Portia pleads for James to work with her, but James pushes her away. Yeah, he’s a keeper, Portia.

At the bar, James fights the cat. Phillipe pleads for James to have mercy on him and tells him that his master forced him to frame James. Ah, yes. The familiar / witch bond isn’t at ALL toxic or creepy. Before James’ eyes, Phillipe’s neck gets snapped by Spencer. Time for a witch showdown. 

Spencer tells James that he targeted him because he wanted Portia for himself. When their relationship turned sexual, it drove Spencer over the edge and made him seek James’ ruin. Excuse me while I lick my finger and file all of this under the following: CREEPY GROSS WRONG OFFENSIVE YUCK. 

Sam and Dean arrive just in time to be chucked against the wall again. Bbys. A witch battle ensues with hand lightning and floating and visions of all the terrible things Dean and Sam have endured over the years. Portia runs in, in dog form, and goes for the throat rather than just biting Spencer right in the balls. Strategically sound, if somehow much less satisfying. Sam and Dean take the distraction to set off their witch destroying spell and kill Spencer. 

James flees town with Portia (who is STILL wearing her collar over a turtleneck - COME ON). Later in the car, Dean reflects on the fleeting vision he had of their mother to think about their lives. It makes him realize that he trusts Sam - his family - and he’ll back Sam’s fight to close Hell. Cool! Nothing bad can happen! “I’m good,” Sam says as he coughs blood into his hand. SAM, hon, NO.

Sometimes I’m a Quote, Sometimes I’m an Iguana:

Curly was a freaking genius!

Is anything we ever do a sure thing?

He's got the booga-booga on his side.

I like dogs

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[kondraki]

what's the worst shit you've ever taken at the foundation?

July 19, 1998. About 4:39pm (time beginning). I remember it well. I hadn’t had a shit in over a day, which is unusual for me (generally I can count on a nice daily shit, which I personally think is the best way to go – no more, no less). I’m a bit worried, but not too much. Everything is quiet down there; no rumbling, no bubble guts. Now I realize my naivety. It was only the calm before the storm.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I had had a lot of dairy that day. I’m not lactose intolerant, but when I’m stressed I do have a sensitivity to all the usual suspects – dairy, gluten, that stuff. Starting the evening before, I’d managed to consume a milkshake, several huge plates of cheese fries, several huge slices of cheese pizza, all washed down with copious amounts of coffee and the odd sip of vodka. I was a lot younger back in the day, so usually this wouldn’t cause me too much discomfort. However, one’s luck must always run out. That day was the day.

As I said, I felt fine. Right up until the moment I no longer felt fine, everything was going great. I’m walking up a hallway (thankfully a lesser trafficked one) and feeling great, and then… I sense it. A disturbance in the gentle fauna of my gut. Now, I’m no stranger to shitfests. Stress is a bitch on the gut. I’ve spent a fair few shifts gripping the bottom of the toilet bowl like it might be able to save me from my fate. There truly is no god in the bathroom. Anyway, I’m walking along, and I feel that little rumble. That little… movement. 

Immediately I go into survival mode. I know I have roughly thirty seconds before this is all over. I take five of these precious seconds to home in on my location and bring up my mental map of site bathrooms, which I have for this specific purpose (years of stress shitting will make you a physical Google Maps of bathrooms). I realise there’s a bathroom not too far away, but sometimes it’s locked. There’s another bathroom close by, but it’s roughly forty seconds away including a short elevator ride. Do I risk going to the first bathroom and finding it locked, or do I risk going to the second and getting stuck in an elevator (a great fear of mine) and then shitting myself, thereby gassing myself in the stench? 

A fart slips out. It was only a fart, but I know it was a close one. It’s also so hot it singes my ass hairs, and stinks so bad I can almost see the cartoon stink lines. I know I’m in trouble. I go for the first bathroom. There’s a storage closet nearby – if the worst happens, I can probably just shit in a mop bucket or an empty box or something. Off I go. The first half of the journey is uncomfortable but bearable. There’s a lot of movement going on in my gut that gets gradually worse. By the time I reach the hall the bathroom is on, I’m starting to think I have an idea of what it’s like to be pregnant. I remember when my son’s mother was pregnant with him and I would feel him kicking around in the womb, and she would try to explain how it felt from her perspective, but of course I couldn’t imagine. At that moment, I think I had a good idea. It felt like something was alive in there, rolling around and pressing against my organs. It was a strange feeling, but one with fond associations. That was my last moment of happiness for forty minutes.

I reach the bathroom. Mercy of mercies, it’s unlocked, but I barely register that. I stumble through the door, walking like I’ve already shat myself. I cannot unclench my ass, less the swamp within unleashes itself. I’m ashamed to say it, but I consider just dropping my pants and shitting on the floor and getting out of there. Some of my conscience remains, and I shuffle to the stall. There’s no time to check if there’s toilet roll. There’s no time to do anything. I’m unzipping and unbuttoning as I approach the bowl, and then it hits me – how am I gonna turn and sit on the bowl? As soon as I crouch, it is all over. I waste a precious second considering this conundrum, but then, with a grimace and a deep sense of resignation, I realize I’m completely at the mercy of this shit. I have no choice but to get this over with, and then try and work from there.

I whip my pants and undies out of the way (or at least, I hope I do). As I do so, I turn and begin to sit. Usually I like to get my pants all the way down around my ankles, but there’s no time. I’m shitting before I even hit the seat. I miss the back of the toilet, but not the back of the seat. I have to sit in some of the shit. Alright, that’s gross, but I’ve had a newborn by that point. I’ve had shit on places I don’t want there to be shit. I’m kind of relieved that it’s my own, which is not a great bar to set, but do I look like I’m in a position to be choosy right now? I should mention that this shit is completely puréed liquid. I mean, it feels like I’m sitting in a warm, half-blitzed smoothie. The smell is… I don’t even know. I am a writer, and I am a person who has seen unfathomable things, but even with these two major advantages I cannot describe how it smelled. It smelled hot, for a start. You know what I mean. The stench of this shit singed my god damn nose hairs. It was rancid. It was pungent. It made me consider the duality of man – how could my body have contributed to making something as wonderful as my son, yet still be the vessel to create this monstrosity? I do not mean to keep bringing up my son in a story about the worst shit of my life, but you have to understand that such situations really do make a man consider life and death.

The initial blast tapers off, but I’m still going. By now I’m sat on the seat, and rather than my usual position (hands gripping the underneath of the bowl) I find myself leaning forward and briefly putting my face in my hands. I’m regretting my dietary choices now. I might be verbally cursing myself. I quickly have to sit up properly again because the hunching is crushing my stomach and making the pain worse. I did not know that shitting could be so painful. I mean, I’d experienced such things before, but this is… this is something else. I’m experiencing hot and cold flushes. My heartrate is dangerously elevated. I think about the celebrities that have been found dead on the toilet and wonder if that’s my fate. I consider the fact it might be kinder. Meanwhile, as I contemplate my possible death, the acoustics of my ass’s contribution to the world are deafening. I have never heard sounds like it. I think it might be like if somebody accidentally drilled a hole to hell. They would put their ear to the hole and the sounds from my hole is what they would have heard. The splattering, the guttural growls, several different pitches of farts all at once… I cannot possibly tell you how much I wished to temporarily lose my hearing. I considered trying to blow out my eardrums, but thought that might be too painful and cause me to fall off the bowl and further complicate my situation, so I decided I might as well just suffer.

Suffer I did. This continued for almost twenty minutes. I have no idea how that could have all fit inside my intestines. Four times, I reached behind me and flushed the toilet (I have learned the hard way not to let it pile up). The Poseidon’s kiss from each metric ton of shitwater eroded another piece of my psyche. Finally the smoothie shit tapered off and I was treated to a final hurrah of machine gun fire that pinged rock-hard little pellets right off the back of the porcelain, loud enough that it actually made me jump. Like a dog, I was frightened by my own ass. Then, silence. Sweet, sweet silence. 

I’m alive. I’m sweating, I’m actually trembling by this point, I’m breathless, my heart is in the range of BPM that’s probably dangerous, but I’m alive. I sit there for a long moment, the silence in the bathroom deafening after the hell I experienced, and then I realize that there’s still more hell to come – I have to, somehow, clean up. I take a slow breath and regret it (the flushing didn’t eradicate much of the stench). I rise to my feet.

I fall flat on the floor, shit-covered ass in the air. My legs have gone numb. For almost a minute I have to lay there, until I’ve wiggled my traitorous legs and feet around enough to be able to stand. There are pins and needles in my left leg, and every slight change in pressure makes me teeter precariously to the side. I reach for the paper dispenser. 

There is no toilet paper.

I don’t know what I expected. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the ajar door (I had no time to lock it), and something within me breaks. Fuck it, I think, and I stride – I do not shit shuffle, I do not waddle, I stride – into the next cubicle. No TP. Nor in the next. This is a small bathroom, so there are only three stalls. I stand there, holding my pants around my thighs in a big bunch like a Depression-era grandpa trying to keep his string-tied pants up his starving frame, and then it hits me. There’s a storage closet next door. Could it possibly contain TP? I edge to the door. I peer out. The hallway is clear. I slip out. The stench has permeated the hallway outside, but at least masks me as I creep to the storage closet and open the door. Thank god, there’s TP. I grab two packets of 24 rolls and jam it under my arms, and then I scuttle back into to bathroom like the disgusting mistake I am. I retreat back into the stall like a worm returning to the soil. I begin the immense task of cleaning up.

Now, I’m not a talented mathematician, but I’m fairly certain that two 24s is 48. Which means I had 48 rolls in there with me. By the time I was done, there were probably 10 or 11 left. My flushing was likely responsible for every drought in California since that date. Miraculously my pants and underwear had escaped splashage, but the poor toilet had seen better days, as had the trail of drips scattered throughout the bathroom and hall from my adventure. Even when I was done, there was still a disturbance in the atmosphere of the bathroom that would tell anyone who passed by what had happened in there (even though the stench probably had something to do with that). I had to utilize all three toilets to flush everything. Finally, exhausted, I stumbled to the basin and scrubbed my hands and arms all the way up to the elbow, like a surgeon prepping for an operation. I did this three times before I felt even remotely clean, and knew that I would have to return home for a long, hot shower before I thought about doing any more work.

There were of course no paper towels, and the hand drier was broken. I dry off my hands and arms as best as I can on my pants… and that’s when I notice that my walkie talkie, tuned to the general channel and clipped to my pants, had been on the entire fucking time.

[nexttrickanvils]

FE3H Fic: Falling for You

Title: Falling For You

Characters: Claude Von Reigen, F!Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Edelgard Von Hresvelg, Sylvain Jose Gautier, Mercedes Von Martritz, small cameos from a few FE: Fates characters

Ships: Claude x Byleth, background Sylvain x Mercedes

Notes: Modern!AU

---------

The first thing Claude thought was: “Did anyone get the number on the bus that just hit me?”

“Sir!? Sir!? Are you alright!?”

The second thing Claude thought was: “...Oh...”

He stared up at the bespectacled blue haired woman looking over him with concern on her face.

“Sir! Do you need me to call someone? Do you know where you are? What...”

Claude groaned as he finally sat up and gave the woman a carefree smile.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. No need to call somebody and if it’ll make you feel better, we’re at the Garreg Mach Public Library.”

She sighed in relief and smiled back.

“Good.”

The blue haired woman offered her hand to Claude and helped him up. She then turned to a group of young kids. Guess she must have been a teacher or something.

“Kana?”

One kid in particular, a young boy with messy silver hair stepped forward and stood next to his teacher.

“Now Kana, what do we say when we bump into someone?”

The boy looked up at Claude with big fat tears in his eyes.

“I’M SORRY MISTER! I DIDN’T MEAN TO! I GOT EXCITED AND...”

“Hey, hey no need to shout little guy, we’re at the library. And don’t worry, I forgive you. Just make sure you listen to your Teach okay?”

The boy let out a sniffle and an “Okay.”

He went back to his little group and took the hand of a red-haired girl a couple years older than him.

The teacher looked back at Claude, “Once again, I am so sorry for my student...”

“Come on, you don’t gotta apologize too. Believe me, if you want to hear some horror stories about hyper kids, just ask my mom about my childhood.”

She gave a small chuckle and Claude felt a slight heat in his cheeks.

“Nonetheless, they are my responsibility. So I shoulder some of the blame.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. You should get back to your job instead of worrying about me.”

She nodded and turned back to her group, “Alright everyone, now where we?”

Claude watched with a smile as the kids and their teacher walked off to the library’s kids section. 

He quickly returned to what he was doing before and yet as the day went on, he kept thinking about the blue haired woman.

She seemed nice, hells nicer than some of the teachers he grew up with. Those kids are lucky to have her.

Not to mention, if Claude had to be honest, she was kind of cute and that laugh…

Claude shook his head, what was he doing? It’s not like he was going to see her again.

...Though he wouldn’t mind that… maybe get to hear her laugh again…

…

“...I picked a bad time to realize I have a thing for girls in glasses didn’t I?”

===

Telling Dimitri and Edelgard about what happened was probably the dumbest thing Claude could have done.

Dimitri’s reaction wasn’t too bad, supportive and was even willing to help out if needed, but Edelgard… Claude can’t remember the last time his friend laughed this hard.

“...You done?”

Edelgard’s laughter started to slow down and she finally took a few breaths.

“M-my apologies, Claude it’s just…hahaha... it’s just funny to think that you, Claude “I don’t believe in hokey stuff like Moon Signs and Soulmates” Von Reigen of all people would fall in love at first sight.”

“Hey I did NOT “fall in love at first sight.” I’m just curious about her and want to see her again. Get to know her better you know?”

“That… sounds an awful lot like love at first sight.” Remarked Dimitri the Traitor

Claude glared at them both as he took a swig of his drink.

The blonde smiled and continued, “To be honest, it all does sound rather romantic.”

“Except for the part where you were knocked over by a toddler.” Added Edelgard

“I did not get knocked over by a toddler… I think the kid was in kindergarten.”

At that, Dimitri let out a laugh that he tried very hard to hide. Claude said nothing as he went back to his drink.

“All joking aside, what was her name? Perhaps you could look her up online...” asked Edelgard

At that, Claude nearly choked. 

Shit! He never got her name!

Claude smacked his head against the bar and even though he couldn’t see them, he could feel the disappointed expressions on Dimitri and Edelgard’s faces.

...Well okay maybe disappointed isn’t the right word but they are judging him.

===

At some point last night, his friends did actually give Claude some good advice.

Most of the local schools had photos of their staff on their websites and without knowing her name, this seemed like the best and “least likely to get the cops called on him” way to find her. 

So he grabbed his phone and a notepad and sat down at his favorite coffee shop. This shouldn’t take too long right?

...Too bad no one told him that there was a whole lot of elementary schools in Garreg Mach. Claude knew this place was a big city. He’s lived here for a good few years now and he swears he keeps finding new old places. 

But did this city really need this many elementary schools!?

“Not really how I pictured spending my afternoon” Claude muttered as he scratched out Saint Cethlean Elementary & Middle School off his list. At this rate, Mystery Teach will have retired by the time Claude found out where she worked.

After scratching out six or maybe seven more schools from the list, Claude took a glance around the coffee shop; the place was starting to get a little too crowded for his liking. Maybe he should head out and take a break. Maybe do some people watching near the old Monastery.

However just as he stood up, he spotted a familiar someone at the counter.

“Here you go Ma’am, have a nice day!” “Thank you, you too.”

No way… there was no way…

Except there was no mistaking that blue hair or her voice.

...Claude wasn’t exactly a religious man but he couldn’t help but mentally thank whatever god or goddess seemed to be listening to him.

He waited until she stepped out of line before taking a deep breath, putting on his most charming smile, and approaching her; being very careful not to startle her.

However before he could reach her, the crowd in the shop seemed to shift and Claude found himself stuck.

“Hey! ‘Scuse me! Tryna get through!”

Claude tried his best to get through the crowd but some people were just way too stubborn and pushy for their own. Before long, Claude found himself falling forward out of the crowd.

‘Okay I’m taking back the thanks to any god or goddess listening, cause they’re obviously jerks and are laughing at me.’

Claude stood back and tried to look for around for the woman. Soon he spotted her through the window, walking away and chatting with a short haired blonde woman. The blonde seemed familiar somehow to Claude but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

As for who she probably was, she was likely Teach’s co-worker or just a friend… or even a girlfriend.

It was that thought that made Claude realize: What the hells was he doing?

Is he really so desperate that a smile and some basic human decency is enough to make him act like an idiot tripping over himself?

He didn’t even know her name, for gods’ sake!

Claude sighed as he picked up the things he dropped and headed out of the coffee shop.

====

Claude had hoped to spend a nice quiet evening hanging out and drinking with Dimitri and Edelgard.

Unfortunately this was not to be because when he arrived at their usual spot, Edelgard looked like she was ready to strangle someone and Dimitri was in a friendly(?) headlock by a loud drunk with bright red hair. It took Claude a minute to recognize the guy as Sylvain, one of Dimitri’s friends.

He took a seat next to Edelgard and shot her a sympathetic look. “Long night?”

“It’s only been an hour.”

“So what brought Sylvain here?”

“Apparently he’s getting married to Mercedes.”

If Claude had a drink, this would be the point where he’d spit it all over the counter.

“Wait. Sylvain is getting married. OUR Sylvain?”

“Do we know any others?”

“...So...”

“Dimitri called Mercedes to come pick Sylvain up. She was just getting off work when he called so hopefully she’ll be here soon.”

Claude looked at the thrilled drunk redhead and could hear him gushing about his fiancee and how she’s one of the few people who could see the “real him.” 

Meanwhile poor Dimitri is just nodding along and adding the ocasional “I know” and “I’m very happy for you.”

“Never thought Sylvain of all people would get married.”

“Well I suppose this week has been one for miracles. Speaking of: how is your search for your true love going?”

Claude decided to ignore the “true love” comment and explained to Edelgard that he gave up.

“Give up? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t realize how many schools I had to look up and I kind of had an epiphany that I was acting like a creepy idiot.”

“I see.”

After a few more minutes of trying to talk to his friends over Sylvain’s ramblings, Claude heard the sound of the bar door opening. He looked over and his eyes widened.

“Mercedes? I almost didn’t recognize you.” remarked Edelgard

The blonde giggled as she showed off her short hair.

“Do you like it? It was starting to become a bit of a hassle to take care of it and I thought it was time for a change.”

THAT’S WHY SHE SEEMED FAMILIAR, Claude just didn’t recognize her with the new haircut.

Upon hearing Mercede’s voice, Sylvain released his death grip on Dimitri and stumbled over to her.

“BABY!” he shouted as he fell into her arms

“Hello to you too dear.” Mercedes said with a smile

She then turned to the three, “I hope Sylvain didn’t give you three too much trouble.”

“N-not at all. He merely wanted to let us know about the engagement and celebrate. Congratulations by the way.” said Dimitri

“Let us know when you figure out a wedding date alright?” said Edelgard

Mercedes nodded.

“We will, thank you. I’ll be taking him home now. Good night everyone.”

As Mercedes started to walk towards the exit with Sylvain’s arm draped around her shoulders, Claude stood up.

“Hey wait Mercie!”

“Hm? Oh, Claude. What is it?”

“This… might be a weird question but… do you… happen to have a co-worker who’s a… woman with blue hair and glasses?”

===

“Okay so let me get the story straight. You were at the library, one of the kids that Mercie watches over knocked you flat on your ass and you fell in love with her co-worker when she checked on you?”

Claude glared at Sylvain, “Aside from the “falling in love part,” yeah you got it down.”

So it turned out that Mercedes was co-workers with Mystery Teach in an After-School Program. After Claude explained his situation, Mercedes offered to let Sylvain drive him to the school that she worked at to meet her co-worker, Byleth. 

Gods did it feel good to FINALLY have a name to work with.

“You know… since I’m picking up Mercedes, if both girls are up for it, we can do a double date right away.”

“Just shut up and drive.”

The two stayed quiet for the rest of the ride (though not for lack of trying on Sylvain’s part) until they finally arrived at the school.

Claude could hear the kids further down the hall, guess Mercedes and Byleth weren’t off the clock just yet. Thus he and Sylvain sat down on a nearby bench.

He chuckled and Sylvain looked at him curiously.

“Oh just… sitting out here kinda makes me think of my own school days. Like I’m waiting for the Principal to come out and lecture me for releasing a stink bomb in the gym.”

“Whoa, really?” Sylvain asked with a laugh

“In my defense, it wasn’t supposed to go off at that moment; the casing was just badly made.”

The two made small talk as they watched parents come in and out with their kids.

Claude always liked people watching but he’d never seen such… interesting characters.

Like the guy who looked like he stepped out of a comic book, his wife who looked like she could bench press DIMITRI, and their kid who looked like the dad’s sidekick.

Then there’s the father+daughter duo wearing toy fox ears and making, he’s assuming, fox noises as they went down the hall.

A few more minutes passed by when a little voice shouted out, “Hey Mister!”

Claude turned to the voice and saw that same silver haired boy who ran into him.

“Oh well look who it is. You doing alright kid? Listening to your Teach, I hope?”

The boy, Kana, he thinks Byleth called him, nods and smiles.

“Uh-huh. Are you here to see Ms. Byleth?”

“Heh, aren’t you a smart kid. Yup, just here say hi to her.”

“...Are you marrying Ms. Byleth?”

Claude’s eyes widened as he let out a choked noise and Sylvain let out a laugh.

“Kana!”

Approaching them all was a friendly looking guy with silver hair, a woman with red hair that Claude could only describe as “fluffy,” and a slightly older red haired girl.

“Hi mama!”

The little boy rushed into his mom’s arms and was lifted up. The woman sighed and faced Claude and Sylvain.

“I’m sorry, I hope he wasn’t bothering you.”

“N-nah, it’s… it’s fine.” Claude said, trying to hide the red on his face

The redheaded woman nodded and started to walk away with her family while the boy waved good-bye to Claude.

“Bye-bye Mister!”

As soon as that family was out the doors, Sylvain shot Claude a shit-eating grin.

“Smart kid right?”

Claude said nothing as he glared at him.

A couple more families came and went and Claude was starting to nervously tap his foot on the floor. The longer the two waited, the more chances Claude had to overthink.

Did Byleth even remember what happened at the library? Would she just stare at him blankly if he tried to explain who he was? Would she think he was some stalker?

Thankfully before Claude could further give himself a panic attack, two women stepped out from one of the rooms.

Mercedes… and Byleth.

Sylvain of course practically jumped off the bench and ran over to greet his fianceé while Byleth stood to the side and watched the two in amusement.

Well… now or never. Claude stood up, took a deep breath, put on his most charming smile, and approached her; being very careful not to startle her.

“Hey Teach.”

Byleth turned to him. At first she looked confused but a spark of recognition quickly lit her eyes.

“Oh, it’s you, the man from the library. Are you doing alright? No bumps? No dizziness or anything?”

“I told you before, I’m fine. You don’t need to call a doc or anything. The name’s Claude by the way.” he replied with a laugh as he offered his hand

“I’m Byleth and sorry about that. The double checking’s become a force of habit. My roommate can tell you plenty of stories about me slipping into what she calls “Teacher Talk” to her.” She said as she took his hand and shook it

“Heh well maybe if you got the time, we can sit down for a drink or some coffee and you can tell me all about it?”

Byleth gave him that same smile that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I’d love to.”

[fuzed-hostage]

RainbowSix l Siege

Doc and Montagne have been planning a date night for weeks and just can’t catch a break! After numerous attempts, they settle on cuddling but get carried away.

Rated: E [ Some Doc alone time, They finally get to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) !! , definitely nsfw ] Parings: Montagne/Doc, Bandit/Jäger [ Mention ]

     It felt like every time there was a break in the madness that was Rainbow, something would suddenly, inexplicably, unfortunately happen right as Gustave was about to send a text to Gilles. He’d be seated in his office, reclining in the not-so-comfortable chair with nothing to do but kill time. Whatever appointments had been made that day were over and done with, it’s nearing sundown, and he’s waiting for the clock to strike ten so his shift could end.

     Fingers would tap the same message each time [>>Want to go out for dinner in an hour?<<] and then BOOM the door would burst open. If not that, he’d get a phone call, or the computer screen alerted him of an incoming message. Mozzie ate shit riding his bike with Mute on the back, Fuze and Jäger had a mishap in the workshop, Bandit tased Tachanka ( it did nothing to him ) and Kapkan stapled the German to the wall in retaliation, etc.

     On Montagne’s end, it was no different outside of the subject matters regarding whatever emergencies he was called to handle. Given his easy going nature, ability to break up fights, and calmly knock some sense into people’s heads, it was no wonder he got picked before anyone else. Lion started another fight with the SAS, Maestro and Valkyrie are bickering about who’s camera gadget is cooler, Ela called Echo a lazy fuck and now she’s being tormented by Yokai; the list goes on.

     Whenever they did get to meet up, it was on the clock and quite often during a stupid incident they both had to handle. In the case of Mozzie and Mute, the Brit didn’t lean into a turn like he should have and their crash nearly took off Thermite’s shins. Poor Mute took the brunt of the impact, whereas the Aussie had jumped back up on his feet to curse at a pissed off FBI agent threatening to torch his ride. It almost came to blows until the GIGN tag-team showed up.

     Knowing Mozzie, he bailed off of the bike prematurely out of habit and left his buddy to become one with the earth. That’ll teach them both to either never ride together again or to slow down a little and work out the details more. Well... maybe. Since when has the pint sized daredevil ever slowed down before in his entire life? Survey says: Never.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     Planning in advanced wasn’t very helpful either, what with how unpredictable the two love birds’ schedules were. Montagne would have a day off while Doc was knee deep in overtime. They also were’t ever deployed together and that just made the medic mad. He could remain professional throughout an operation while Gilles was there! Up until the larger man was hurt and then he’d probably lose his mind that is. 

     Back then he was a lot more level headed when it was just the GIGN operating within France. With Rainbow, there were ten times more shit to factor in on top of the obvious risks that the job explicitly entailed. More CTU’s, more men and women, a lot more ground to cover, an expansive array of new surprises. Tension sometimes ran high within the mixed teams, not everybody knew how to leave their baggage back at base, and it all felt like a glorified armed daycare.

     Which part of a mission would he rather be in? Right up in the action, stressed out about Gilles, and potentially becoming a liability by slipping into tunnel vision quicker or clawing at his hair, glued to the radio, and picking at his lip until it bled? He’d hurt less people back at base but the anxiety was significantly magnified and his colleagues were beginning to notice.

     Out on the field is where he believed he could make the most difference in life and death situations but Rainbow needed him back home terribly as well. Training accidents that could become permanent damage was mended by his expert hands, sickness ( be it from terrorist chemicals or natural means ) was eased by his knowledge. Montagne, as much as he wanted his love by his side, preferred that the good doctor wasn’t assigned to his squad if it was more productive.

     It used to not be that way though. One or the other would insist on coming along during the time they were dancing around each other not knowing how to interpret the signals being given. Rumors spread like wildfire about how obvious their love was and that someone should shove them in a closet so they could work out the sexual tension. There were even attempts to get them alone at a bar after arriving with a group so that liquid courage would spill the beans in the form of Je t’aime Gustave and Je t’aime aussi Gilles but to no avail.

     Montagne could hold his liquor and wine brought forth all of Doc’s pent up exhaustion, leading to an early bed time. Having the medic drink something else was like pulling teeth as his response was always “I’d like to remain in control of my mind and body, merci.” while the taller Frenchman chuckled. Sometimes, however, he’d try a sip of whatever Gilles had accepted. It was fifty-fifty on whether or not he’d like it but zero chance of him ordering it again. Doc was a hard nut to crack but it all paid off in the end.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~ 

     “I am getting really tired of all this madness. It’s like we’re cursed!” Gustave ranted, throwing his hands up and knocking a stapler off of his desk. He looked down at the damn thing like it had offended him by toppling over when it should have just remained put. “It is rather perplexing. Has there been a full moon recently?” Came Gilles’ calm voice as he picked up the stapler to place it back where it belonged. All his lover did was roll his chocolate brown eyes and sigh. Everyday felt like it had a full moon attached to it, bringing forth the age old curse emergency services workers dreaded. Tack that along with the Q-word and you’d have a recipe for disaster.

     “I heard there was a nice Japanese place in town. Why don’t we-” Sadly, the shield operator was cut off by the ding of his phone. He looked down at the pocket it was contained in with a sigh that starkly contrasted the fury building up inside of Gustave’s red face. With the shake of his head, Montagne placed a quick kiss to his lovers lips and departed, not knowing that his partner was secretly daydreaming about strangling whomever pried them apart.

     This trivial text happened to be IQ snitching about Caveira’s apparent stalking of Glaz. The sniper was well known for spotting the shit that nobody thought twice about. Shifts in daily routines, objects moved out of their usual place, mood swings, and, of course, his uncanny ability to pick up on when he’s being followed. So far he’s caught Taina six times and she’s pissed about it, refusing to give up even though she knows it’s childish. This will take hours of conversation, some translation, and bringing Timur in to resolve the conflict.

     Meanwhile, Doc has treated a nasty gash Seamus acquired while teaching Aria how to cook traditional Scottish dishes. They both share a love for food and wanted to surprise their fellows with what they’ve learned from one another. Good friends, those two. She’s even given Sledge some dating advice when he accidentally let slip that there’s another guy he’s interested in. While it was nice to hear that this injury was just an accident and not some rage fueled wound, Gustave wished it never happened. For one, he doesn’t like seeing his colleagues hurt and two, he needs this alone time with Gilles.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     It’s been nearly a month since he’s shared a bed with Montagne and everyone’s starting to notice how grumpy Gustave is getting. Hell, he can’t even sit with the guy in a friendly setting let alone a romantic one! Quick kisses and light touches ( such as the brushing of their hands together or a shoulder squeeze ) are all he gets and that’s unacceptable. Gilles is on a mission this time in Russia with Buck, Fuze, Jackal, and Gridlock. He’d also planned a coming over the night he got deployed for takeout and a makeout sesh that’s obviously not going to happen now.

     The upset on Gustave’s face at how badly the universe is treating them is almost palpable upon the doctor’s tensed up form. He’s had six cups of strong coffee, going on seven, and it’s barely even ten o’clock. Breakfast is quiet in the cafeteria at Hereford Base until he hears Bandit announcing his arrival. “Man, you look like you really need to get laid, Gus.” For a guy that doesn’t shrink away from Kapkan’s frightening gaze, the look Doc gives him makes the hair upon the back of Dominic’s neck stand straight up.

     He mumbles some sort of excuse to get away, steps back quickly, and departs while everyone tries to avoid eye contact when Gustave glowers at them all from his table. The rest of his day is spent talking only when it is necessary and retreating to his room immediately upon its conclusion. The staff posted for night watch better figure out how to operate without him unless the patient is literally going to die if he’s not there. He’s got faith in them only because he wants one uninterrupted night to shave off some neglect.

    Rook and Twitch went out with Blitz and IQ for an evening of casual drinking so he’s got the GIGN quarters all to himself. It’d be nice if his lover was here, but a dildo with similar length and girth will do. Gustave is wearing one of Gilles’ shirts that had been worn for half a day and wasn’t quite dirty yet. It smelled of his cologne and was a size too big to fit him, but that didn’t matter. He’s taken up residence in his lover’s room, they often do this when one was away, it was comforting and arousing all the same depending on what the intention was for this consensual invasion.

     Even though he didn’t need to keep the noise level down for a while, Gustave had already decided on forcing himself to be as quiet as he could. Preparation was done a bit quickly, fingers pushing in and scissoring right away with a groan of need tumbling from his lips. He’s touch starved to all hell and knows he’ll regret that come morning when the ache kicks in. Squatting with his feet planted flush with the floor ( thank the slav squad for helping his balance with that ) one hand holds the dildo steady while he sinks down onto it.

     It hurts going in and Doc doesn’t feel inclined to wait for proper adjustment until his cheeks meet the floorboards. “Fuck... Why did Six have to choose you again?” Montagne was an amazing operator, highly skilled, very sexy.. Get on with it Gustave. He can already see that perfectly sculpted body as if it were beneath him, holding a strong grip on both hips. It takes him longer than usual to come; soft thumping against the floor combined with muffled moans and uttered encouragements slurring into curses until a choked sound signals the end.

     He’ll sit there for a moment, still anchored onto the dildo with a shameful mess in front of him, and sighs when he finally catches his breath. It’s not the same but it is satisfying. After he cleans up and tucks himself into Montagne’s bed, the rest of his team has returned and gone their separate ways to conduct nightly rituals to get ready for sleep. He’ll greet them in the morning with a smile and a tired yawn.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~

     It’ll be a week before Gilles returns and during that time frame, Doc decided to ask Dominic ( of all people ) for advice. The German already knew he was dating his colleague, it was obvious as fuck, but felt inclined to help a friend in need. He kinda owed it to Gus after the crude comment in the cafeteria a few days ago. Out of all the wild things Bandit suggested, a vibrator worked the best as it was simple / discrete and pleasuring himself in the shower made cleanup so much easier. It all came down to timing those sessions right so that he wouldn’t have to be so worried about the noise.

     He spaces out masturbating with getting additional work done in preparation to have a clean slate in the foreseeable future. Bandit offers to give him a quickie here and there, but he refuses. Discussing it with his partner must come first even though they’ve talked a little bit about it before. Someone they trust would be a better alternative than trying to go at it alone. Montagne trusts Dom while Doc thinks he’s rather annoying but trusts him as well. If he didn’t, he’d not of spoken up about his sexual frustrations.

     Brunsmeier can and will take secrets like those to his grave along with other personal shit. They’ve often spent nights sitting together on the roof of the base venting about past trauma, talking about hardships, and laughing when one of them remembers something stupid that’s funny now that it was over. Bandit’s a good man, you just need to see through the jokes and rough exterior. If he’s pranking you more than others, he likes you.

     Inquiring a second time felt too awkward, so Gustave decided to wait out the last handful of days. He’ll be the first one up to the helicopter so that absolutely nothing can get in the way of their date night inquiry. Since they obviously couldn’t go anywhere, having a glass of wine or whatever Gilles felt like drinking in their quarters was a decent alternative. He’s ordered takeout and goddamn it this private time is going to happen!

     The deployed squad shuffles off the helicopter one by one, taking their gear with them. Thankfully nobody looks seriously injured so there goes that speed bump. Montagne is the last to have his boots touch the ground, he’d been talking with Jäger and thanking him for a smooth flight. He didn’t have to but it was a nice thing to do. Now, about that date... “Gilles. You and me, tonight, my room. I’ve got food and great wine.” Doc received a quick nod for confirmation and they carry on with renewed energy to finish the day. He can’t help but catch a sly grin and a thumbs up from Bandit when he passes by in search of his engineer.

     Dominic will probably ask questions come morning and, for once, Doc won’t mind. The man did help him without judgement or ridicule. He also kind of wondered how much experience Bandit’s had with how in depth he went with his explanations sometimes and the terminology. It was both embarrassing and intriguing to listen to if you ignored the gestures the German made with his hands. Gustave’s selection of the vibrator earlier was the absolute most vanilla shit apparently.

~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~ 

     Night falls and Gustave passes on custody of Rainbow’s health to the poor souls taking his place for the graveyard shift. He’s definitely not going to answer any calls now. Critical emergencies will have to wait too because getting untangled and yanking on boxers or pants won’t hide an erection. That would be the worst case scenario: Doc rushing to the medical wing with a bouncing hard on re-trapped within one or two layers of clothing trying to concentrate on saving a life when he knows everyone can see the obvious bulge will be a night he’ll never live down.

     It makes him shudder just thinking about it or is that Gilles behind him unintentionally breathing against his neck? They’re on his bed, naked save for their underwear, with a glass of red wine in their hands. The cheap takeout has been consumed a while ago and did a fair job at filling their bellies. Gustave has made himself comfortable, basking in the feeling of skin on skin contact and the gentle rise and fall of his lover’s chest. If their evening remained this way, he wouldn’t be all that upset. He is content listening to what happened during the mission through his love’s point of view. It went off without a hitch, Rainbow had caught the White Mask’s with their pants down.

     Speaking of that, Gustave decides he’s going to wiggle a bit and pretend he’s adjusting so his back won’t hurt and the weight distribution doesn’t make any limbs go numb. He gets a heavy sigh in return, a kiss to his neck, and that makes his cheeks flush a light pink hue. “I was so lonely while you were gone.” He mock pouts, tilting his head up to watch Montagne chuckle. Tending to all of the base’s boo boos and ouchies doesn’t count for having company and he knows that.

     “Were you now? I’m sorry to hear that.” It’s sincere, yes, but the underlying mischief in Gilles’ voice doesn’t go unnoticed. His wine glass has been set down and Gustave’s  is taken so that it too won’t get in the way. The hitch in the medic’s breath tells him all he needs to know the moment fingers dip beneath the thin layer of cloth that dares to say it’s held some kind of modesty. “Let me make up for it, oui?” He doesn’t even need to hear an actual verbal confirmation with how eager the younger man is by getting up and demanding for them to switch positions.

      It isn’t always this quick. Most nights they take their time, indulge in tantalizing touches, teasing one another for what felt like hours, making it all last as long as they can. Tonight won’t be that tame, Gilles won’t deny either of them what they’ve both wanted and could not have. Months, it’s been literal months since the were able to make love and not settle for a quick blow job or hasty wanking in Doc’s private office. They better use what time they have before it’s gone, claimed by a persistent curse neither know how to dispel.

     Montagne is on his feet and pulling his lover flush against his body, kissing him deeply each time he feels his lover’s lips part for more. Oxygen becomes a luxury for a short while, something they need but cannot have without separation. It’s not fair, really, but breathing is obviously necessary and the show must go on. He hopes Twitch has decided to take up space in the workshop next to the usual one or two operators that sometimes call it home. Rook slept like a rock and nothing short of a smoke alarm or gun fire will wake him up.

     A quick squeeze to Gustave’s ass makes him frown in disappointment when nothing else follows it up. It doesn’t last long, however, once he realizes it’s a silent demand for him to lie down on the bed while Gilles finds a bottle of lube in one of the dresser drawers. So he does as he’s asked, lounging not-so-patiently with a fist curled around his cock, pumping it slowly simply for the stimulation it provides. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was lonely. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it makes the dick get hungrier. Bandit said that and Gustave laughed so hard he started to wheeze.

     The pad of Gilles’ thumb pressed against his lover’s puckered hole as he descended upon him. Careful ministrations intended to loosen it up so that a finger can breach the taut muscle. A curious thought crosses the mountain’s mind when it gives more readily than it should, accepting the initial digit without much protest. He’s beginning to think his lover’s impatience must have escalated while being left alone for so long. “You spoke with Dominic didn’t you?” He chuckled, receiving an honest nod that quickly turned into a spine arching moan as a second finger was pushed in.

     “I’ll have to thank him later.” That could mean a number of things considering how close they’ve let the German get into their relationship. Marius didn’t seem to mind seeing as how there have been no objections yet. The pilot was well aware that his partner has been giving the two Frenchmen advice but that’s the fullest extent of their interactions. Now’s not the time to get lost in thought though, Gustave’s legs are being hiked up and over the larger man’s shoulders. While he’s not all that flexible, it isn’t uncomfortable yet. They’ll start to ache halfway through and burn the next day, a cost he’s willing to pay in full.

     “Come on, mon amour. Haven’t I waited long enough?” Doc whined, pouting when an eyebrow was raised in response. How needy, but who’s he to deny such a wonderful man what he wants? A pillow is tugged over and shoved beneath Gustave’s lower back to give it cushion and raise his hips more. It’s the little things like this Gus loves, how conscious of his lover’s comfort Gilles is. Again there isn’t nearly enough preparation ( and that worries Montagne ) but Gustave insists on progressing right this instant.

     “This may hurt a little...” The older man warns, receiving no indication that his partner cares. He’s a doctor, he understands, and frankly has had enough of the delay. Gilles slicks up his cock with a healthy amount of lube, guiding it to where it needs to go before pushing in slowly. A bitten hiss is forced through Doc’s teeth, his primary focus now shifting to relax himself around the steadily growing girth burying itself deep within him. It’s a mixture of pain, an uncomfortable stretch, and rising pleasure at feeling the familiar warmth.

     At hilt deep, he’s given time to adjust that Montagne will not allow to be skipped. They aren’t as young as they wish they were, too much carelessness will ruin the experience. And so they wait, exploratory hands detailed the muscles of Gustave’s chest and stroking his sides while he gets lost in the gentle touches. Gilles knows exactly how to make his treasured love feel like a king, whether he’s nestled atop his lap or pinned beneath him. On queue, which this time is a squeeze to the taller man’s thigh, Touré slides back.

     His first series of thrusts are slow and careful, drawing out a pleased hum from Gustave’s throat. They have a well practiced rhythm, it starts at a crawl and picks up to a steady beat both can last their longest on. By no means is it ride or die, in fact, someone like Bandit might find it boring. The position Doc is in allows Gilles to drive in deep at the expense of a now growing ache in his legs. They bounce atop the taller man’s shoulders, his cock left unattended on his stomach. He won’t touch it, not yet, it’s too soon.

     Adjusting his angle draws out a moan from the doctor, one somewhat louder than he intended it to be. Using a little more force produces the same results and Gilles knows he’s found just the right spot to drive Gustave wild. The sound of skin hitting skin, husky breaths, and Doc’s voice is a filthy symphony in an otherwise quiet part of the base all the while he’s being encouraged to let go and praised for how good he feels, looks, and sounds.

     “Pleasure yourself, mon Ange, let me hear your enjoyment.” Gilles says so sweetly, letting go of his lover’s hip to guide a hand to the neglected shaft spilling precum on glistening sweat soaked skin. Fingers curl around it and pump in time with the heavy thrusts pounding his consciousness into oblivion. “There you go, that’s it.” Now Gustave’s mouth is hanging open, eyes glossed over and fixated on the older man’s beautiful hues.

     The burn in his knees is only getting worse but Doc doesn’t feel it anymore. Warmth is pooling in his gut and he can’t string together coherent sentences, repeating Montagne’s name instead along with a few expletives coming out in mixed French-English jumbles. He’s always been the noisier of the two no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. At some point he loses that restraint and drowns out the growls and grunts from his faithful shield. It’s when he becomes silent that Gilles knows he’s reaching his climax.

     With teeth gritted and red flushing his cheeks, Touré chases his own orgasm in the form of less coordinated and more forceful thrusts that have Gustave’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. He hears his name shouted into the heavens and can feel the contractions of Doc’s body as he cums, painting his chest with each spurt. Riding upon that high, Gilles keeps going until he buries himself deep, presses their chests together, and groans into his lover’s ear.

     Having nothing to hold them up, Doc’s legs drop as far as the broad body in between them will allow. They both need a minute to relearn how to breathe correctly and see straight. “God I needed that..” Gustave pants, earning a breathless chuckle from his partner who has raised himself back up on shaking arms. He pulls out with the same care as he had initially going in, giving them both a good look at the mess that had been made.

     Rather than attempt standing, Montagne rolls over onto his back and smiles when he feels Doc turn to snuggle against his side. They’ll worry about showering and changing the bed sheets tomorrow. Neither of them have the strength to bother this time.

     “Je t’aime, mon Ange.” Gilles hums. “Je t’aime aussi, mon Trésor.” Gustave yawns, placing a kiss on his lover’s cheek.