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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

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It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing.

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing.

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did.

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.”

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more?

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently.

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?”

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.”

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied.

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck?

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice.

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore.

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend.

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.”

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week.

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts.

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid.

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted.

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck.

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point.

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost.

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.)

“Fuck, Hobi!”

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool.

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood.

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.”

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough?

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought…

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse.

He hates this.

You hate this.

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later.

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all.

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him.

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he.

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you.

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back.

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed.

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting.

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me ☠️ what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white?

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response.

[12:09] Jungkook: ???

You frown, wondering what you said wrong.

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out

[12:10] You: why?

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny.

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes.

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you.

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?”

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.”

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.”

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you.

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back.

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!”

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest.

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic.

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door.

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.”

“Well then, can you relay a message?”

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?”

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.”

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.”

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.”

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers.

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.”

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident.

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep.

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty.

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family.

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll…

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television.

You don’t reply until very late into the night.

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten.

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry.

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short.

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face

[10:16] Jungkook:

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed.

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy.

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat.

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too.

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :(

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off.

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin.

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable.

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically.

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough.

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt.

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm.

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!”

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start.

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s.

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen.

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok.

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder.

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes.

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you.

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms.

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies.

“It’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.”

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton.

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—”

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait.

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?” he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day.

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously.

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees.

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good.

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.”

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick.

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum.

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.”

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure.

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely.

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?”

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle.

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger.

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm.

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.”

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?”

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb.

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment.

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.”

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips.

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair.

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch.

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty.

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving.

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?”

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!”

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.”

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions.

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric.

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.”

It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion.

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—”

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on.

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight.

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.”

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board.

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.”

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order.

bonus.

“So.”

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair.

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt.

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!”

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?”

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.”

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words.

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?”

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory.

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest.

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsguild #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Single ladies

stephen strange x reader / masterlist

summary; you and wong get tickets to your favourite singer, and drag the sorcerer supreme along for the concert / warnings; bad humour, it was a random idea that just came to me, brief mention of imprisonment, swearing, hinting at sex,

“A Hunk of Hulk of Burning Fudge please.” You smiled at the woman behind the booth, splaying change upon the counter, as you watched her scoop the delicacy into a small and travel safe pot, oozing the green ice cream with a caramel like sauce. “Thank you.”

“You order the same thing every time that we come here.” Stephen rolled his eyes lightly, quirking one of thin brows at you. Rather than denying it, for you both knew that fact was true, you simply shrugged, putting a portion of the avengers flavoured desert into your mouth, with the plastic spoon that accompanied your purchase.

“I am consistent. I think that’s what you were trying to say, and I don’t think you should complain considering my regular pattern of things keeps you... motivated.” Your gaze sternly drifted down to his crotch as you raised your forehead suggestively at the covered body part, sending the message directly to the sorcerer.

“Yes, that is what keeps me motivated. Surely not the need to protect our reality from negative forces that could cause it to plunder into a catastrophe.” In reply, you hummed, a smirk ridden on your face, before your phone beeped. “Who is it?”

“Wong, he’s pissed that we went to get ice cream without him.” Was your answer, as you drifted your gaze over to the counter as you prevailed in thought. “I better get him something, otherwise this weekend is gonna feel like an imprisonment from Surtur. And trust me, I am well versed with what that situation is like.”

“What is happening this weekend?” He asked bluntly, as though he felt left out on some big plot. A grand, rather intoxicating smile danced upon your face, almost cracking the surface like a piece of glass wear.

“We’re going to see Beyoncé!” It practically left you as a scream, your excitement clearly having got the better of you. As passersby walked past, you waved lightly at them, delivering them an embarrassed apology, before attaining your attention back onto Strange. “We have a spare ticket, my friend Darcy kinda pulled out, something about her friend Erik going bonkers again, but... you could come?”

“Me?” He had to repeat the offer, pointing at his chest where the eye of agamotto was hidden beneath his casual attire. It was no secret that you and Wong practically praised the earth for birthing such a beloved icon of the modern age; in fact it was him whom had introduced the singer to both you and Wong.

The pair of you didn’t get that reference, until the two of you delved into some coordinated research online. A part of him regretted ever making a reference about her, since the pair of you were practically obsessed. He was not sure that he’d survive a concert with the two of you, nor that the two of you would live through the performance, it was a rather mundane occurrence for the pair of you.

“No, of course not. I’ll just go and invite the other Stephen Strange; he wouldn’t dare say no to one of my... offers.” You smiled deviously, shovelling more of the fudge flavoured treat, sucking seductively on the cheaply made utensil, batting your eyelashes up at your master.

“Fine.” Stephen sighed, causing you to sigh, and pat the man on the shoulder. He rolled his head back, as he thought of the possible disaster his inclination to say yes would be.

“I knew you’d come around Stephie.” You spoke, handing him the pot of your slowly melting ice cream, pausing a finger upwards in the air, as you began to trail backwards. “Imma get Wong one of those, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“If i was a boy, even just for a day!” At the pitch that you wailed, Stephen winced. Wong was driving, and he was in the passengers seat, he had quite the suspicion that it was indeed not a bottle of water that you had brought along to the show. “Hey, I was listening to that!” You yelled, your voice being targeted at the driver as he fiddled with the track.

“I’m surprised you could hear that over your American Idol audition.” Stephen spoke, watching as your face crinkled, and the song of Wong’s choice had began to play. The sorcerer admittedly had quite a decent time accompanying the two of you, there were no days off with the tasks that you were given the responsibility to protect. Though, there had been a way around that worked out, and thus here the trio of you were, on the way back home.

The beginning of the song Single Ladies bustled from the CD player, and Wong inherently turned it up, watching amusedly as you pouted through the rear view, and crossed your arms. “If you don’t stop insulting me, then you will be a single lady Strange. I can find someone else to put a ring on it.”

“What was that?” He lightly smirked, turning in his seat to face you, as your skin crawled with the remarks of embarrassment. “Did you just admit that you want to marry me?” The man teased, watching as you shook your head, denying his claims that he had clearly heard.

“Nope.” The word popped from your mouth, as you leant against the restraint of your seat belt. “I don’t trust you with purchasing jewellery, you can barely keep track of the items that you wear.”

“I wear the eye of adamotto, the ancient one entrusted me with it. I- where the fuck is it?” His hands raked his chest, scratching the surface of skin below his shirt to find the item. It was gone. One of the most powerful weapons in the universe was lost, and worst of all, at a concert for normal people.

If one of them were to find it, they’d either think it nothing more than garbage, or a sick statement piece that they would brag about to their friends. Or worst of all, they would sell it, for less than it was even worth, since it was priceless, and some big bad would discover it on the shelf on an antique store.

“Language.” Wong muttered as he slipped his gaze only momentarily to the man sat beside him. His face remained void of emotion, but his eyes told another story. He was conflicted whether he wanted to shout at the sorcerer, or try his hardest to remain calm.

“You have to turn back!” The qualified doctor exclaimed, and all of a sudden, Wong performed a U turn, steering in the direction that you all had just come from. “Are you trying to kill us?!” The images of his own accident flashed through his mind, that fault of his own had ended him here, in a flurry of panic.

“If Beyoncé is wearing the eye around her neck, we are forcing her to use it as the cover for her next album. We’ll take some pictures, and then take it.” Wong stated, watching essentially as the man beside him began to bicker, his eyes wide and shocked by Wong’s priorities.

They were supposed to protect the reality, not shape it to their own whim. As they snapped at one another, you felt succumbed by the alcohol that you had subtly consumed, raising your hand to your chest, feeling a chain and a large, sideways diamond shaped pendant against your chest, below the material of your clothing.

Thinking nothing of it, you shut your eyes, and fell into a sleep slumber. Least to say, when you finally awoke with a raging hangover, after they had searched the extents of the stadium, neither of the men were impressed when they saw a familiar shape pressing through your top, mocking them as they established their fury.

“A part of me wishes Beyoncé had worn it.” Wong sulked, as Stephen went to remove the piece from you, but decided otherwise. If anyone could protect the artefact better than himself, it was a very pissed off and hungover you.

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 years ago

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Unpopular Writing Opinions, Part II

I asked for your unpopular writing opinions, and you answered! Here's the second batch (paraphrased because you all had some THOUGHTS!) along with my responses. Feel free to jump in on the conversation in the comments or in reblogs! ♥

1. I like the cruel step-mother/father cliche. I know it's been done to death, but there's just something I like about the MC who not only lost a birth parent, but now has to deal with an abusive step parent while their other birth parent who should be standing up for them is just letting it happen.

I think it's important to note that "cruel step parent" is a trope that became a cliché because it was done the same way over and over again. One way to do it differently is to make the step parent human, give them a reason for being mean (not mean for the sake of being mean), and give them some growth and/or redemption. And, for the record, I like this trope, too, when done well!

2. I hate it when people write dialogues that resemble Shakespeare's. Like, I'd be reading a YA novel or a fanfic (modern setting) and the dialogues are full of strange words that I have never heard anyone say.

Agreeee! Folks, step away from the thesaurus! It can be so tempting to find a fancier, less common synonym for every word, but clarity is one of the most important elements in writing. Instead of saying, "she prognosticated that her nuptials would be postponed for a fortnight," it's just clearer and more direct to just say, "she knew her wedding would be delayed a week or two."

3. When I see unrealistic bickering or unrealistic "deep" conversations, I'm always like :/ No one speaks like that. You say stupid shit when you bicker, and deep conversations happen from time to time, but mid-fight, you don't see an open door, stop fighting, and say, "Isn't a door a sad creation?" It's even worse if the other character replies with something philosophical about the fucking door.

YESSS!!! I agree with this so much! Dialogue is so tricky though, because on the one hand you don't want it to be too realistic, because realistic dialogue sounds like crap on the page. But on the other hand, you definitely don't want characters to say things that would be absolutely bonkers in real conversation. There's a happy middle ground we can all aim for.

4. Writers shouldn't self-publish their manuscript just because they couldn't get it published. There's a reason it didn't get published. Move on and start something that will.

OOF. I hard disagree with this one because I deeply believe writers shouldn't worry about how, why, or what other writers publish. We should worry about our own publishing journeys (if we even choose to publish) and not anyone else's. People self-publish for a lot of different reasons, and "couldn't get traditionally published" is not actually one of the major ones. Also, not being able to get a manuscript traditionally published doesn't mean it's bad. It can, certainly, but often it just means the agents queried didn't see wide enough appeal for the story to make it profitable by traditional publishing standards. And, honestly, if someone believes enough in their story to put in the effort of getting it out there, I have nothing but mad respect for them.

5. Published authors who say you have to attend countless writing seminars and courses to be successful and get published are jerks. Does it help? Sure, it might. Does it guarantee you'll get published? A Twilight fanfic got published because the person had connections, so no. Luck and marketability play a big part in whether you'll get published, not just skills.

While I disagree that these writers are jerks, I do agree that writing programs of any kind shouldn't be pushed as the end-all and be-all for becoming a good writer and/or getting published. First, being able to attend even a single seminar, workshop, or course is a tremendous privilege. Not everyone has the ability to attend one, physically or virtually. Also, so much of the information taught in these programs is available for free online (and in libraries), or for significantly less money in purchased books and workbooks. I know many self-taught writers who have successful publishing careers. And yes, the dirty little secret of traditional publishing is agents and publishers could be absolutely bananas about your manuscript, but if they don't feel the market is right for that kind of story or that it wouldn't have wide enough appeal, you're not going to get a book deal.

Part three coming soon!

#wqaadvice

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binnieboyswhore · 4 years ago

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SKZ as...

Stray Kids as my favorite kinks Pairing: Skz x Reader Genre: smut Word count: 1,130 Warnings: Choking, bondage, Knives, blood, biting, bruises, wax, and blindfolds. I can’t think of anything else but ya if you feel i should add it please let me know! Authors note: This is my favorite thing I’ve ever written cause I am the center of it all and yes i am an attention whore. I am willing to die on all these hills so please don’t fight me on it

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

Bang Chan: Erotic Asphyxiation: Choking Do I even have to explain? Between the rings and watches and that mans beautiful ass hands? Fairy Tales are written about those hands. Anyway, back to them being wrapped around your throat. He loves having them on there whether he’s railing you, making out with you or even chilling with the boys. He loves having you seated between his legs, your back on his chest while his hand rests on your collar bone. It’s strangely calming to both of you to know you’re just a grip away

Minho: Merinthophilia: tying someone up This boy loves his ropes and I am prepared to die on this hill. He loves tying you up whether it’s just your hands to the headboard using his belt or taking the time to learn new knots and designs. He has every color of rope so it can match any occasion, even pastel colors for a pretty easter fuck. He is in love with the pained look in your eyes when you really want to touch him and you can’t. He also loves how pretty you look all tangled in his ropes. He even learns a heart knot for you on valentines day, constantly grabbing ahold of it while fucking you. He thinks you’re so pretty tied up he often takes pictures of you before he absolutely wrecks you.

Changbin: Dressing up: Bunny One word. Bunny. Bunnies make this man's head go brrr. When he comes into your shared bedroom after a long day at work and sees those ears on you, one bent as if it were winking at him makes him go crazy. The white lace tight around your body leaves nothing to the imagination, he can’t help but drop his jaw. Once he gathers himself he asks you, “So, bunny do you have the rest of it?” You turn to show off your cotton tailed butt plug and this man loses it. He is ready to tear you apart like a wolf who found dinner after three days of hunting. It’s a guarantee you won’t be walking tomorrow.

Hyunjin: RACK: knife play This man would be one of the few I trust enough to do this. He would love dragging the blade all over your body watching goosebumps rise up. Occasionally digging the blade in your flesh but not with enough force to break skin just enough to hear your little whimpers. On occasion you allow him to cut you, not deep enough to scar but enough to draw blood and he goes bonkers when you allow this. He’ll cut you along the top of your thigh and watch the blood trickle down a bit before flattening his tongue on you, licking it up and suckling on the wound. You let a moan out at the mixture of the cold blade, the burning wound and his wet tongue. He’ll insert the handle of the blade in you, watching you as you rut your hips along it. He’d roll his eyes from watching how much pleasure you’re receiving from this and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Jisung: Odaxelagnia: Biting Whether it’s to extract a dirty ass moan from you or muffle his own this man loves to bite. He loves leaving his mark on you anywhere you allow. He loves little nips at your back or big bites on your ass and thigh. There were a few times he’d accidently bite you so hard he’d draw blood. He couldn’t tell you how sorry he was that he did that, leaving little kisses around it but the devil in his brain reminded him this one would take longer to heal and knowing that his teeth were indented into your skin covered in a brown and purple bruise excited him so much. During the healing process you could expect quickies any and everywhere, in closets of music video sets to bathroom stalls at restaurants. Anytime he got a glimpse of it, it just wound him right back up.

Felix: Temperature Play: wax Felix is an absolute S L U T for wax play. He loves to cuff/tie your hands to the bed frame and watch your chest heave up and down in anticipation for the hot wax. He’ll light multiple different colored candles too so your chest is an “absolute work of art” Felix always liked to say. He’ll start by dropping wax right between your breast watching it slowly fall through the valley and come to a droplet. He repeats this process in different colors watching your chest rise and fall in pain but enjoyable pain. He takes a candle dripping wax over your sensitive nipples letting a moan out he’ll look at you, “Are you still okay?” he lifts the candle so no more wax is falling on you. “Fuck felix please don’t stop.” You moan out causing his member to get extra hard. He’ll get a crazy look in his eye and smirk at you. You knew you were in for a good fuck when he took his phone off the bed side table to capture his work before destroying your body in every way he could.

Seungmin: Dominance: Sir There is nothing Seungmin loves more than when you refer to him as “Sir”. It could be in a sarcastic way or a sexual way but no matter it always resulted with you bent over the nearest object taking him pounding into you. He loved nothing more than hearing you scream “Yes sir.” when he asked if you felt good. The thought alone could make him combust. He would even often record you screaming it just so he has plenty of octave options to jack off to on tour or if work has gotten real stressful. He’s still trying to talk chan into using one as a background sound on the album. He has yet to sway him considering he refuses to let chan listen to him cause “those moans are mine”.

IN: Amaurophilia: blindfolds He hasn’t decided what he likes more, using the blindfold on him or on you. (It’s definitely you) He loves the way the silk band feels as he ties it behind your head making sure not to get your hair caught in it. He loves that now you’re having to rely on your other senses and on him to know what he’s doing so he likes to fuck with you a bit like breath on your neck then pinch the inside of your thigh, eating up every little yelp and moan you let out. He constantly teases you before entering, he’ll drag his dick up and down your folds relentlessly till you reach out your hand making an attempt to grab a hold of his arm.

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge. As always, some creative liberties taken.

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.

Star Spangled Rebirth Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation, Steve was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally, I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.” He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. Phillips gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie glanced at him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot, and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now, Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it.” She nodded, “The HYDRA Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too? Perhaps, give that time to recover as well?” Phillips looked at Howard who snorted.

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” He arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round Katie’s blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing,” she took a deep breath, “but I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. Schmidt must become that superior man.

He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him. “I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve. “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on HYDRA.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase HYDRA?”

She shrugged, “it seems logical to me. A lunatic Schmidt might be, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, HYDRA is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of HYDRA. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir,that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need,” Howard groaned, “two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy. “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You,” he then looked at Howard, “take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. As for you,” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine wanted to do. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them behind. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel, well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe, but I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious, Rogers,” Howard smirked, “she said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still ongoing.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

**** It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum, that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on HYDRA. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? HYDRA was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like ‘super strength’, ‘increased stamina’, ‘enhanced metabolism��, ‘fast healing’, ‘super-sharp senses’, ‘memory expansion’, ‘logical improvement’. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the Doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted,” she shrugged, “and I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow. “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood, Kiddo.” Howard held his hands up as the Doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The Doctor smiled. “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly.

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

Katie shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after HYDRA in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “he’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face. “He owed me a drink.”

*****

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of him and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The Doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt.

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “but there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the Doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “but without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

He followed Peggy into the lab, his ears picking up the conversation as they entered.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her before he turned back to Phillips.

“We’re not even close to this technology.”

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded simply. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division.” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up, “but he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated, “they worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being re-tasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s-”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But-”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat as she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he opened his mouth to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

**** Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes. “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out, Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being-”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me.” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight but me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged.

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit beside him. “And I understand how frustrated you feel, believe me.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him.

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “what?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “what’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I meant, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “you know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was,” Steve smiled with a short nod. “kind, compassionate. Just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said the other night before we, you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not-so-lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “just as a coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s gonna happen to you no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of being in the right place at the right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup,” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little, “this definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe, Soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt his smile fade, the warmth in his chest replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

****

November 1943.

“I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable, cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt sketch of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with ‘Adolph’ himself. Steve had knocked him out countless times, and was still no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier, only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night, but the fact was he didn’t want to.

Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart remained with a certain green eyed agent.

It was ironic, when he thought about it. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and looked as if they had happily trudged through mud and been beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up. Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did, she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh, twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a plan, and what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry."

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It might sound familiar but there was a chance it could be another Barnes. It was a common name, after all, and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines.

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “but if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines, through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away. “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

***** Chapter 5

#Stark Spangled Rebirth #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america #CATFA 10th anniversary challenge #mcu #mcu fanfic #fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

For the Meet Ugly Prompts-38, NSFW Danbrey?

Here you go! Note: there are mentions of blood in this.

38: overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed

“One spiced mocha, one oatmilk latte!”

Aubrey reaches for her mocha just as a painfully cute blonde in overalls grabs the latte.

“Oh, excuse me” the blonde calls over the counter, “could I get a lid, it looks like you’re all out at the station. Thanks, you’re the best.” She smiles at the teenager who hands he the lid while Aubrey tries to figure out where she’s heard “thanks, you’re the best” said that exact way before.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

She’s heard that voice every Tuesday and Friday when she calls LoveBites, the premiere service for people who really like vampires. Really, really, like vampires.

Honeysuckle, as the woman on the other end of the line calls herself, probably isn’t a vampire. Aubrey figures most of the people who work that line are just very good at pretending to be fictional monsters. She is, however, incredibly good at getting Aubrey to cum with vivid descriptions of where she’s going to sink her teeth.

“AH! Hey, watch what you’re doing.”

Aubrey snaps back to the coffee shop to discover her drink is now all over Honeysuckles shoes.

“Ohmygod, I’m, I’m so sorry.” She grabs a fistful of napkins, drops down to clean the mess of coffee and chocolate syrup from the floor. She reaches to help clean off the other woman's shoes only for her to wave her away.

“It’s fine, I got itshit” she glares as Aubrey, in her attempt to get out of her space, stands too quickly, bumping her head into Honeysuckle’s cup and sending it all over both of them.

Okay, she can totally salvage this. Right?

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

“...then I just ran away.”

Duck laughs so hard on the other end of the phone that he startles Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“Oh come on, like you’ve never done something embarrassing in front of someone cute.”

“Dunno, you might have just beaten my ‘six Freudian slips in a row trying to ask ‘Dird how his weekend was.’”

“Ugggggggggggggggh.”

“It’s okay, Lady Flame” he manages to sound genuinely sympathetic through his giggles, “lots of cute folks out in the world who you ain’t spilled two cups of coffee on.”

“Yeah.” She checks the neon orange clock on the wall, “I gotta go practice my tricks for this weekend. Thanks for listening to me whine.”

“Any time, Aubrey. See you at the show.”

She gets through two tricks, including the one where Dr. Harris Bonkers disappears from a box, but she can’t focus. It’s not nerves; instead, she feels like if she got off just once, she’d stop feeling so tense and be able to run through the rest of her act without issues.

It’d be a very bad idea to call LoveBites when she spilled a drink on her favorite operator. She doesn’t feel like talking someone new through her preferences, and she knows with Honeysuckle she’s guaranteed to get off, which wasn’t always the case with previous operators. Besides, the length of her calls must be enough to pay for a replacement drink.

She grabs her phone and dials. Soon a familiar voice purrs down the line.

“Hi, Aubrey. How’s my favorite human tonight?”

“Good?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that, fireblossom.” It’s a new pet name; ever since she mentioned her stage name, Honeysuckle likes to give her ones woven through with flames.

“I, um, I'm fine?”

“Did something happen today, hot stuff?”

“Uhhhhh. Um. I, uh, I made a fool of myself in a coffee shop. I, um, I spilled my drink on a cute girl. Also hers.”

Honeysuckle goes quiet.

“I, um, I think the person I spilled them on was you.”

“..............spiced mocha?”

“Yeeeeah” Aubrey curls inwards, trying to cringe away from her phone, “I’m really sorry about your shoes. And your overalls. And your drink. I, um, I wasn’t gonna mention it but it feels, like, weird not to and I really was going to offer to replace your coffee except I was kinda worried I’d somehow spill that too. I’m, I’m sorry. I just really like talking with you.” She smiles shyly, “you’re my favorite vampire.”

Dead air, then “you really want to make it up to me with another drink?”

“Yes!” Aubrey sits up, hopeful.

“Even if the drink isn’t coffee?”

“Sure it, it can be whatever you want.”

A hungry purr that makes Aubrey reach for her trusty vibrating wand, “In that case, don’t go anywhere.”

“What? But you’re-”

The line goes dead. Aubrey stares at it, frowning. What is she supposed to do now? Did they get disconnected accidentally? Should she just call back?

She shoves the toy back in the drawer, paces back and forth between the kitchen counter and the table where her cards and flashpaper are strewn about, unsure whether she should make dinner, practice, try to get off, or just give up on everything and go to bed.

From his hutch in the corner, Dr. Harris Bonkers honks, thumps his feet in alarm, then turns his bugged-out eyes on Aubrey and thumps again as if to say, “what the fuck, why aren’t you heeding my warning?”

“Aww, it’s okay buddy. Is that cat on the fire escape again?” She looks out the window, finds nothing but some mist. Mist that’s hovering on her tiny balcony and no one elses. She blinks.

Honeysuckle is standing on the other side of the glass; she’s wearing a loose green tank top and grey yoga pants, golden hair taking on the tint of the nearby streetlights. She gives a demure wave as Aubrey throws the back door open.

“Holy fuck I thought the vampire thing was just, like, a gimmick.”

A shrug, “There’s more humans than vampires working the line, but some of us are the real deal. I know a few vampires who do it because it lets them work nights and keep an actually nocturnal schedule. But some of us do it as a side job and go out during the day. Which means we see cute girls in coffee shops who we think we might ask out who then spill drinks on us.”

“Aw beans. Wait, were you checking me out for real.”

“Uh huh. You must have been doing something super interesting on your phone to not notice.”

Aubrey resolves to delete Candy Crush immediately.

“Um, so, not that I’m not happy to see you again, but like how did you find my house?”

“We can trace numbers on our end. It’s a security thing; back when the line started some hunters kept trying to use it to go after vampires, so we needed to know where calls were coming from.”

“Blegh, that sucks.”

“Yeah, not my favorite.” She flutters her eyelashes, “any chance I could come in?”

“Absolutely, uh, here” she holds the door--which has no risk of closing without a lot of force--so the vampire can step into the apartment.

“Do I, um, should I still just call you what I always have?”

Golden eyes look her up and down hungrily, “Dani is fine.” Then she squeaks, “ooooh, hi there little guy, can I say hi? Oop, okay, some other time.” Dani smiles as the rabbit ducks into his covered box, “animals can be kind of skittish around me at first. Which makes sense.” When she turns to look at Aubrey, her fangs are visible.

“Hooboy that’s, that’s, uh-”

Dani steps back, “I can back off. I just, um, I thought since we’re both into each other and you were, um, already in the mood for some lovebites maybe we could -”

“NoItotallywantto!” Aubrey grabs her hand, pulling her towards the bedroom, “sorry, the fangs are apparently an insta-horny button in my brain.”

“Good to know” Dani spins her by her shoulders and pushes her back onto the bed, fangs now on full display, “take your clothes off, fireblossom.”

Aubrey thanks herself from two hours ago for changing into her pajamas so she doesn’t have much to rid herself of. When she gets her shirt off, Dani is down to her underwear, green boyshorts showing off her legs and completely distracting Aubrey from any unwelcome self-consciousness.

“Mmmmmm” Dani crawls onto the bed with her, “I thought you were cute before but fuck, you look incredible like this.”

“Thanks” Aubrey’s breath catches as Dani bumps their noses together, “can, can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

She raises up on her elbows, mapping Dani’s mouth with her own. Aubrey’s kissed plenty of people in her life, and there have only been a few where the gesture felt like coming home, like she was slotting against a body that was meant to be with hers. All of those pale in comparison to the way Dani’s body seems to meld with hers. She gasps when the vampire cups her right breast, teasing the nipple with her thumb as she eases Aubrey all the way down. Her other hand finds her face, traces from there to the base of her neck, touches moving from light to sharp as she curves her nails down her skin.

When the fangs scrape her sternum she moans. Dani snickers against her, kisses and nuzzles her way down her chest, sighing when Aubrey threads her fingers into her hair.

“So, my pretty snack, what were you going to ask me for when you called?”

“I, I was kinda hoping we’d talk about you eating me out.”

A kiss above her belly button, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“OhgoodOH, ohfuck” she opens her legs wider as Dani dips her head between them, “ahhhn, please, a little higher, ohfuck, god.” Her hips twitch as Dani sucks her clit. There’s a muffled laugh as two fingers tease her cunt.

“Wow, you really do like the fangs.”

“I mean yeah, but that’s more because you’re really hotOH, ohyesfuckthat’sgood.” She moans as Dani presses two fingers in, stroking and rubbing in time with the vampire’s increasingly wanton groans.

“Fuck, Aubrey, that’s it, you look so pretty like this, be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Trying” Aubrey squeaks as Dani laves her tongue across her clit and curls her fingers inside her, “fuck, right there, yeah, ohyes, that, just like that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, clinging to Dani’s head and to the hand gripping her thigh. When she cums it’s intense enough that she’s terrified she’s going to kick Dani accidentally, but the vampire simply holds her thighs down, lapping at her until her moans die down.

“Fireblossom?”

“Uh huh?”

“You still owe me a drink. Whatever I want, remember?”

“Yeah? Oh, oh fuck yeah.” She squirms in excitement as Dani drops to the floor and pulls Aubrey towards her until she’s able to hook her knees over her shoulders.

Dani pushes stray hairs from her face, “If you start feeling lightheaded, tell me okay?”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, winces at how dorky it is, then giggles when Dani cranes forward to kiss it.

The vampire kisses a line from her right knee to her inner thigh, sighing loudly when she noses a certain patch of skin.

“Perfect.”

Fangs sink into her skin and Aubrey clamps her hands over her mouth to avoid waking the neighbors. It’s a sharp, precise pain, flooding her body with the urge to lay back and let Dani take her fill. Then the teeth retreat and Dani’s tongue takes their place, licking the red rivulets and moaning as she sucks at the punctured skin.

“Such a perfect snack.” Dani looks up at her, heavy-lidded and scarlet-mouthed.

“Dani” Aubrey reaches for her, not sure what she’s even asking for.

The vampire takes her hand, rubs it against her cheek, “Does it still feel okay?”

“It feels so good.”

Dani smiles, turns her head to pierce the left thigh, Aubrey moaning weakly as she drinks from her. The moan is echoed, and when she manages to lift her head she sees Dani’s hand is not between her own legs.

“Oh god that’s hot.”

The vampire grins at her, “I get dinner, you get a show. It’s perfect.”

Aubrey watches her lick the bites until they cease bleeding, her moans pitching higher as she fucks herself, getting off on the taste of Aubrey’s blood-tinted skin. Then she tenses, tipping her head back, fangs glinting in the light from the windows, and gasps Aubrey’s name as she cums.

Then a blonde head rests on her knee. Aubrey sits up, Dani’s hair as they catch their breath.

“I, um, I should clean you up. Do you have band-aids?”

“Bathroom.”

Dani stands, cheeks much pinker than before, and returns a minute later with the Pokemon band-aids that Aubrey bought solely for the Charizard ones. She wipes her legs with a warm hand towel, gently pats the bandages into place, stealing giddy glances at Aubrey the entire time.

“You know that fucking ruled, right?” Aubrey rests her head on her shoulder when Dani joins her on the bed.

“Glad you liked it, fireblossom. Can’t believe I’m lucky enough that the hottest human I’ve met in years has a thing for vampires.

“Pretty sure I just have a thing for you. Which, um, I mean this can totally stay casual but, um, do you want to go out sometime?”

Dani nods, leans in for another kiss. She must have borrowed Aubrey’s mouthwash, since she tastes of mint instead of iron.

“I’d love to, Aubrey. But, um, let’s avoid coffee shops for awhile?”

“Good plan.”

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty #meet ugly #vampire girlfriend

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zutaralesbian · 4 years ago

Note

villaneve + fluff prompt #1! (i could not resist fluff prompt #1 as a concept for them!)

1. “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

Eve was nervous. Nervous and frustrated.

It had taken a long time to convince Carolyn that both she and Villanelle were worth having on the team, all of their history considered. And while this wasn't near the first time Villanelle had been late to a meeting, Eve could tell that Carolyn's patience was beginning to grow thin. The last thing Eve needed was for Carolyn to decide that Villanelle (and by extension, Eve) wasn’t worth her time. Neither of them had anywhere else to go at the moment.

Just as Eve was about to pick her phone up and send Villanelle a very colorfully worded text, the door to the conference room flew open.

"Sorry I'm late everyone!" Villanelle, or rather Amelia Evans said in a sickingly sweet British accent. There were a few people in the room that knew Villanelle's true identity but to everyone else, she was Amelia Evans. Carolyn had suggested the fake identity in order to keep the peace and throw the twelve off their tracks. "Traffic was absolutely bonkers today." She walked over to the table Eve was sitting at and placed a styrofoam cup of coffee in front of her, smiling sweetly. "I got you your regular, Eve."

Eve looked down at the coffee cup. In truth, she had always liked how Villanelle consistently remembered to pick up coffee for her every morning before work. The thought made her smile the smallest amount.

That smile quickly vanished, however, when she took a good look at Villanelle.

"Is that my shirt?" She spoke the words in a heated whisper.

She had already answered her own question of course. Villanelle was wearing her salmon colored sweater. It looked out of place on her because it was. It was an article of clothing that Villanelle had continuously called hideous in the past so Eve knew she wasn't wearing it as any sort of fashion statement. She was wearing it to make some sort of point.

"You mean our shirt?" Villanelle responded with a smile. To anyone else it would probably look innocent. Eve knew her well enough to see the smug glint in her eyes. She also knew that Villanelle was fully aware of what them sharing clothes would look like to others. She shot her a glare and stood up from her chair.

"Ahem," coughed a voice. Eve turned back to look at Carolyn, who was seated on the opposite end of the table. She was giving them a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Eve, it seems like you and Amelia have some things to work out. Mind doing it outside so that you two don't interrupt this meeting more than you already have?" Carolyn's voice was cool and controlled but Eve could sense the impatience within it.

Holding back, Eve gave her a brief nod before heading towards the exit, grabbing Villanelle's arm and dragging her along with her.

Once they were outside the conference room and the door was firmly shut behind them, Eve immediately went into defense. "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

Villanelle put on that clueless look Eve had always hated, the one where she pretended to not know what she was talking about. She ditched the fake accent and reverted back to her normal voice. "I don't know why you're so angry, Eve. I needed to borrow a shirt...."

"Oh shut up," Eve snapped. "You know exactly what that looked like."

This had been a topic of conflict for them a while now. The thing was, Eve wasn't entirely ready to admit to the world that she was fucking and in a maybe-sort-of-relationship with an ex murderous assassin turned bounty hunter. She was still trying to wrap her own head around how their relationship had shifted so drastically in such a short time. She had no idea how to begin to explain it to anyone else.

This of course didn't bode well for Villanelle though. Eve was finding that she was just as hot-headed and jealous as ever, especially when one of their co-workers, male or female, appeared a little too friendly towards Eve. That was something that hadn't changed and likely never would. Honestly, deep down, Eve knew that she was lucky it had taken this long for Villanelle to start acting up. And that it wasn’t a bigger explosion.

Somehow that didn't take away any of her irritation.

"It looked like what? Like we're together?" Villanelle challenged. Her false innocent act melted away to show her own anger. "I want people to know."

There it was.

"I told you I needed time."

"I've given you time! I've never waited for something this long in my life."

Even though it had only been about a month since they started this....relationship, Eve had a feeling that was true. Villanelle had never been known for her patience. There was a sudden vulnerability in her voice that made Eve stop in her tracks in what she had been about to say. She couldn't help but think back to the last time Villanelle had been someone's secret and wonder whether the desire to be public about their relationship went deeper than just jealousy and possessiveness.

Eve softened at the idea.

"Okay," she said gently. Villanelle looked up at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her to back down so easily. "We'll tell them."

Villanelle's eyes lit up. "Now?"

Eve shook her head. "Carolyn will report us to the twelve herself if we interupt the meeting again." Reaching up, she placed a hand softly against Villanelle's cheek. "Sometime this week. The next time Charles talks to me you can tell him I'm taken."

"I can do more than that..."

"No," Eve said firmly, even if she couldn't help but chuckle at how ready Villanelle seemed to be to drop her new no more killing people vow. "Just tell him."

Villanelle sighed. "Fine."

To show her appreciation, Eve leaned up to plant a kiss on Villanelle's lips, letting it linger for a few moments before speaking again. "You need to stop being late to these meetings. Carolyn's patience is running thin."

Villanelle made a face. "I don't want to work with her anyway."

"I don't either. But we don't have a choice. It's the only thing keeping us from being easily tracked down by the twelve. And we agreed that we're in this together now."

After a moment of hesitation, Villanelle nodded, her eyes displaying a softness that only Eve was really privy to these days.

"Yes, we are."

#set in a post s3 world where they're working with carolyn together idk lol #this was fun #villaneve #killing eve #dollsome-does-tumblr #my fic #answered

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miggydiaz · 4 years ago

Note

For the salty ask 1, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 14, 16, 20, 22, 23 and 26 for cobra kai pretty please

My answers are so long, so I am putting this under the cut @wonderwolfballoon! Also I just noticed your Daniel icon I SWEAR I’M NOT DRAGGING HIM TO BE MEAN!!!

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?* My biggest IDGI ships for CK are probably Elimetri or Kiaz. I’m not here to yuck other people’s yums or anything, but I do think there is something to the idea that Migueli isn’t popular because it’s a ship predicated on mutual respect for one another. Kiaz has the obvious enemies to lovers vibe and I just generally don’t sail those ships. Elimetri has... its problems, IMO, most especially around the idea that Demetri has to like... save Hawk from himself? Idk. I just like romances that I feel are based on love and mutual respect and not ...tropes.   I am also not a Lawrusso shipper although I have a lot of those on my dash and you all are great! Again, not yucking yums! Daniel just makes me want to head butt him too much to pair him romantically with anyone 😂 I don’t even want his wife with him. He needs to self reflect~   4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?*   I once saw someone ship Amanda and Anoush and I noped out of that so fucking fast I almost tripped over myself. I’m not sure if they’re popular. I just think some people feel the need to get Amanda out of the way to sail their ship and stuck her with Anoush which... no. Just no. Let Amanda be a messy single queen with a martini hobby, thanks!   5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*   Not in CK. I’m lucky because I pretty much stick to my little Migueli bubble and I’m okay with that? Lmao lord knows the Squad on my dash is all about the DISCOURSE™️ so idk if I just don’t feel the need to get sucked into the wider ship wars because we have good healthy debates, but so far, so good.   6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*   I never hated it... I just didn’t have many feelings on shipping with this show in general at first. Then I was in the CK tag one day and I saw Migueli fan art. Then I discovered @afurioushawk‘s falconry series and it was all over for me after that! So fandom DID make me love a ship, just not one I hated.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why? Oh boy. How much time do you have? In some instances, it’s a good thing season 3 happened because otherwise, this would be a multi-page essay on the problems with race and class privilege as it pertains to Sam LaRusso and just some... generally not nice comments about Demetri that I’m conflicted about because I’m not sure if the writers are intentionally trying to write him a specific way and it’s just not translating to me or what. But season 3 revamped both of their images with me a lot. I’m way more flexible in terms of Demetri, but lmao I was the number one Sam LaRusso hater for a minute there (or maybe number 2, I can think of at least 1 other person who was in that boat with me back in like... August/September, but I won’t call them out because I don’t want them to get hate...) However, I have grown a bit in my opinions of Sam, and even though I still think she’s responsible for a lot of shit she NEVER gets held accountable for, I also think that’s a reflection of the adults around her too, and this includes my otherwise unproblematic queen, Amanda.

But honestly, my most hated character (other than the obvious villain that is Kreese) is Daniel. No matter how handsome Ralph Macchio looks in cable-knits, because Daniel has always been a sanctimonious, shit starting drama king and I say that about KK Daniel too. I’m not saying Daniel was the ~true villain~ or anything, or that Johnny was innocent -- I can only drink so much Red and Yellow Kool-Aid -- but Daniel’s always been annoying to me as a protagonist, and turning him into a smarmy wealthy car salesman who is also a class traitor did not do him any favors in my book. I will say, I also like Daniel more in season 3 than I have in previous season, but since he is the adult, I will be mad at him longer than I will be at the kids, ya feel?

10. Most disliked arc? Why?   Johnny’s entire season 3 storyline. The sheer level of REGRESSION at every turn drives me bonkers. It’s like watching him go through all of the stumbling blocks of season 1 all over again, but without the “he’s learning! He’s going to make mistakes!” free pass that I was willing to give him the first time around. He regularly jeopardizes Miguel’s recovery and it’s played for laughs. He fucks up on every level with Robby. He spends most of his time running away when things get hard or too real. He drops the ball completely with Hawk, and like, not to put too fine a point on it, but a lot of Hawk’s issues are because Johnny put Hawk on this ‘flip the script and be a badass’ path and then offered him no guidance for how to walk that path and instead left him in the hands of Kreese. And then he has the nerve to go to Hawk and basically be like “I made you what you are!” lmao yeah Johnny, you sure did, that’s why he’s breaking peoples arms, hoss. And then all of the nonsense with Ali and Carmen, like... if you were planning on teasing KK fans with Ali and him getting back together, why write her as married in the first place? Why even tease the idea of Carmen and Johnny until after you were sure what you were going to do with Ali as a character? Instead, they do what they did in season 3 and it makes him look like a colossal jerk. So yeah. Literally every choice they made with Johnny this season, I hated.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom? People who hate Tory are not valid, sorry not sorry.

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change? I would have kept Miguel entirely out of Tory and Sam’s beef. Or at least not directly inserted him into it like he was with the kiss. I know the writers thought it was necessary to push Tory to the point of inciting a fight at school, but I am just so exhausted over girls being unable to fight about anything but boys. Also I would bring Aisha back.

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?   I am probably biased, but I still maintain it’s Migueli. Look, Miguel stood up to Kyler for Eli and Demetri both. Hawk joined CK because he saw what it could do for some skinny nerd who was getting his ass kicked. And he took to CK, really took to it! Even flourished before he started getting mixed messages. And he and Miguel were pretty much inseparable after that. They coordinated their wardrobes ffs. Hawk dubbed him El Serpiente and no one else calls him that — it’s Hawk’s nickname for him. Miguel confides in Hawk only secondary to Johnny, who is like a father to him. The entire Coyote Creek exchange shows they can fight and disagree but... well, to use the cliche, they don’t go to bed angry, you know? They’re square the very next day. Hawk is the first person at Miguel’s side when he gets kicked over the balcony and the LOOK he gives the second floor where Robby is? That boy is out for blood immediately to avenge Miguel. So much of his s3 behavior is fueled by that need for vengeance because MD is wholly responsible for what happened to Miguel. And Miguel is so confused and betrayed by Hawk’s shift in behavior, and yet still holds out hope that Hawk will see through Kreese’s BS and come with him to The Dojo I Refuse to Name. And when Hawk does make that deflection finally, he shows up at MD with Miguel. There’s so much more that I know I’m missing but whether someone ships them or not, that is a tried and true love and respect for one another, a willingness to fight for and defend one another that you don’t often see in TV friendships... or even in most tv relationships. And I just think that’s the best ❤️

22. Popular character you hate?   Daniel, hands down. I mean... I don’t even necessarily hate Daniel, you know? I just think it’s really, pardon the pun, rich that a guy of immense wealth and privilege can’t get a therapist or turn to his far too patient wife for help with his existential crisis over his high school bully opening up a karate dojo to make some money and help a kid who is getting the crap kicked out of him. I get that Daniel’s narrative is necessary for the rivalry, but it does nothing to make him sympathetic as a character.

23. Unpopular character you love?   Tory, definitely! Everyone hates her and then there’s me and the Squad over here banging away on our Coors Banquet cans yelling TORY RIGHTS! Seriously she catches so much flack for a teenage girl who is... the sole income provider for her family? At 17? While caring for a sick mom and a little brother? And fending off a creepy landlord? Tory has it so rough and then she meets a cool girl at her dojo who asks her to hang out at some fancy ass country club which is probably the nicest place Tory has ever been in, and then she gets talked down to and accused of being a thief and has another girl lay hands on her, only to find out that same girl is her new boyfriend’s ex and... ugh. I HATE that Tory gets shit all over when Tory and Sam wouldn’t even have beef if Sam had apologized to Tory as she SHOULD have. Tory isn’t innocent, but damn, I’d be pressed too.   My other unpopular character I love? Nathaniel. Seriously that kid is THE best. He’s a literal child but is out there like I WILL FUCK YOU UP, even though he’s MD. Honestly, his Cobra Kai energy is so ferocious I won’t be surprised if he moves back to CK eventually. Anyway, I love him. 

26. Most shippable character?   Miguel, hands down. It’s because he’s so affable and sweet overall. And because his hair is so fluffy and pettable that no one can resist touching it. I like to imagine that one day he and Hawk are talking about their hair and Hawk makes a joke about how Miguel’s mane is getting so long that it’s going to be bigger than his own, and then he reaches out to ruffle it and internally has a bisexual meltdown because oh no IT’S SO SOFT AND NICE. But uh... anyway, yes. Definitely Miguel.

#ask game #cobra kai #sorry y’all I gotta tag #uh #anti Daniel larusso #anti lawrusso #anti Kiaz #anti Elimetri #it’s not *really* anti those ships but uh... tagging for the culture???#plz don’t flame ship who you ship!!!#Migueli #i hope this is tagged appropriately if you need something else tagged lmk

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers and plugger of mind gaps where I was blocked… @southerngracela and @icanfeelastormbrewing

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

SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation he was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.” He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. He gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie turned to him.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it sir.” She nodded, “The Hydra Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too, you know, give that time to recover as well or…”

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” Howard arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round her blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing.” She took a deep breath, “But I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. “Schmidt must become that superior man.” He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him.

“I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on Hydra.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase Hydra?”

She shrugged, “It seems logical to me. A lunatic he maybe, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same Rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, Hydra is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of Hydra. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir, that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need.” Howard groaned, “Two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You…” he then looked at Howard, “Take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. And you…” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “Take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine had set up. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine.” He looked at her, “In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel…well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe but, well, I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious Rogers.” Howard smirked, “She said the magic word.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on Hydra. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? Hydra was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like “super strength”, “increased stamina”, “enhanced metabolism”, “fast healing”, “super-sharp senses”, “memory expansion”, “logical improvement”. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted.” She shrugged, “And I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow, “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t…say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood.” Howard held his hands up as the doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The doctor smiled, “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly.

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

“Nope.” She shrugged, “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after Hydra in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that Hydra submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “He’d have been proud this had worked.”

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of he and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “But there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “But without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her.

“We’re not even close to this technology,” he finished by means of an explanation.

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded SIMPLY. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division,” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up. “But he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated. “They worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being retasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You...are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s…”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “Keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But…”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack just like Agent Carter did when I told her to.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat before she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he turned back to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being…”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me,” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight…me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “Good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit besides him. “And I can understand how frustrated you feel, believe me I can.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “What?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “What’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I mean, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “Or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah…” she shrugged. “You know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was, ” Steve smiled with a short nod. “Kind, compassionate…just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said you know, the other night before we…you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not so lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “Coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s meant to be no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of right place, right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

“Yup…” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little “it definitely sucks.”

“Stay safe soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “Would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt the smile fade from his face to be replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

November 1943.

“I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable and cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt drawing of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with Adolph himself. And he was no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song had dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and had no doubt been happily trudged through the mud and beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up. Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat.

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend not only the Senator a little but also his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“ Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It sounded familiar…so, maybe there was a chance it could be another Barnes, maybe? It was a common name, after all…and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines.

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “But if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

“I might just be a chorus girl, but I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away… “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers #captain america #katie stark #stark spangled #chris evans #steve rogers x original female character #chris evans characters

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deerth · 3 years ago

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my first mistake in witchcraft

yes i’m going to be petty over religion for a second here.

i have been slowly inching out of the broom closet as i now consciously move on from the atheist mindset to the pagan one. i was looking for more resources to research my path, and i ended up on a witchy server... woe unto me as i try to fit in once more, for it seems that not even witches are unified.

forget about all that shit about garden, cosmos and whatever witches. the religion actually broadly branches into two practices - Wicca and regular witchcraft. so you are primarily the one or the other, no matter what flavour of ritual you practice.

the primary difference between Wiccans and general witchcraft is your belief of whether religion can be used for harm or not. in short, Wiccans state “an it harm none, do as ye will” (as long as you don’t hurt anyone [including yourself], go bonkers), therefore you will not find Wiccans casting curses or hexes. we know the responsibility of our faith and we know that if you radiate bad vibes, it will come right back around to bite you in the ass later. that said, most Wiccans don’t mind witches who do curse or hex. some cultures use practices like voodoo, and even old eastern European practices were not free of rituals that were made to directly interfere with someone’s will (love spells that were supposed to make someone love you). therefore, a disclaimer: I’m not anti-hex. I would not use a hex because I feel that hate will not solve hate, and as long as you’re an adult, I trust you know what you’re doing with your power. maybe you are of an oppressed culture and have good reason to exact revenge on someone who severely hurt you, especially if you have a long-standing tradition of hexes. even Nina Simone sang “I Put a Spell on You” (albeit this is also a love spell). I know curses and hexes and even spells affecting with another’s free will are an inherent part of witchcraft and I won’t deny it. I follow my doctrine, you follow yours, that is fine by me.

what is NOT fine with me, however, is propagating hex culture among minors. why? because minors are not ready to take on that responsibility!!!! just like they are not truly ready to make healthy decisions about sex, alcohol or other substances, they cannot take true responsibility over causing harm, be it spiritual or otherwise. “what’s a little hex do?” you might ask, if you’re a minor. not to sound like a boomer, but when I was 16, I was edgy as fuck. I hated everyone while claiming to love everyone. I was in NO correct mental state to make decisions about the aforementioned things. even without casting any hexes, I made many mistakes. big ones. I hurt a lot of people. yes, I regret it all deeply. I wish I had thought things over rather than stay stubborn. in fact, most people under 20 are not ready to enter discourse, drama or a vicious cycle of hatred purely because it will always turn into “all bite but no bark”. I purposefully say it that way because although youngsters are admirably spirited and ready to take on the world... they often bite off more than they can chew. I see girlies straight out of high school trying to solve huge problems like racism, and although, again, admiring these young people, they have researched their stuff. to an extent, they know what they’re talking about... but I do believe hate will not solve hate.

one of the moderators of said server retaliated with it not being a universal truth, and claimed my take to be “unverified personal gnosis” (what is a verified gnosis, anyway? how do you measure it? especially in a practice like witchcraft where every bloody individual practises it differently and there are no priests or churches?). if the moderator happens to read this and wishes to elaborate, i’d be welcome for a bit of constructive discussion over what is and isn’t personal gnosis. I acknowledge that “hate cannot be fought with hate” is not a universal truth... that is perhaps where I went to the extreme. but believe me, I did not say it to be holier-than-thou. I was actually shocked to be called out by not one, but two moderators on my behaviour, instantly. I did not read in the rules that one would be forbidden to state their opinion or softly disagree, but perhaps it is so and I did not pay enough attention.

there comes another food for thought: is it possible to socialise without being opinionated in any way? would shutting down opinions truly prevent conflict? because I’m feeling very bitter and left out now. I know everyone on that server is not Wiccan. but to get slapped in the face right after I attempted to be friendly (laconic and feeble as that was), among who I considered to be my own people... I feel conflicted. now mind, I’m not going to leave witchcraft behind. it is my religion, and thanks to this experience, I learned that Wicca is the right thing for me. I don’t want to advocate for violence and a vicious cycle of hatred. my grandfather was Romani, therefore I believe I know a thing or two about mislabeling and hate enacted upon minorities and outcast people. does that mean I want to kill and hex every white in sight? the answer is no. if anything, me being both Wiccan and Romani, it would just add fuel to the fire. especially because Romani are stereotyped as evil witches in the first place, so it would be a double suicide. by propagating violence, I would give these people more reason to hate pagans and Romani people. both cultures are already feared and hated upon as it is. I am not going to give people more opportunity to hate me.

coming back to the minor I disagreed with in the server. I was shocked that the first thing that came to a teenager’s mind was a revenge hex. it screams of naiveté and irresponsible behaviour towards your faith. and not JUST your faith. as I am a student of psychology, I am well aware how mind patterns work, and here’s the funny thing: psychology has proven that witchcraft’s law of returns is somewhat true, not on a magickal level, but on a mental one. if you ponder over violence and revenge excessively, you are reinforcing those neural pathways in your brain. there is a reason why they say “hate breeds hate”. it is the same reason why depression is so hard to deal with. anything you obsessively ruminate over reinforces it again and again until escape seems impossible. I’m not only speaking as a witch, I’m speaking as a human being. is it correct to propagate petty violence among minors when we as adults can do better and guide young people to better paths?

I’m not saying young people shouldn’t use hexes. but I am questioning their ability to take on the responsibility of potentially hurting someone, or even just thinking of hurting someone. you plant a seed of hate and it may just grow. you knock on the devil’s door enough times and he will answer (disclaimer: I’m not Christian either, I just like the saying). soon there shall be nothing left but hate. if the person in question had not been a minor, I would have left it at that. but religion is sacred. a witch’s magick is essentially making something important to you sacred. it’s not a plaything. it’s not to be used light-handedly. it’s not a trend. and hexes should be the last resort if all else fails OR the person you hate has a damn good reason for being hated.

is it wrong to vote for love and peace? yeah, I sound like a hippie, but I think they’re right. love was not born from continuing to fight each other - love was born from unity, from coexisting. how does one fight racism? psychology says see more poc, interact with them, understand their struggles. how to fight religious fear? spend time with people of different views. how to get over homophobia? spend time with the gays and try to understand their views, and like, actually understand them. spending time with someone just to berate them is still bigotry. the interaction I mean here is coexisting with minorities in a shared space and them slowly, but surely becoming more accepted and normalised because we finally see them. even a bigot can’t stay a bigot if they are brought out of isolation. if they’re forced to see people different than them.

unfortunately, not even your own faith can comfort you sometimes, mostly because the community is still divided. there are rules on what should and shouldn’t be done, and woe upon thee if you dare to even peep one of your thoughts. I merely said thank you and sorry and left, as I always do when I feel misunderstood. it was a valuable yet harsh lesson, and I regret hoping for acceptance or even offering me a moment to be understood without being shut down without a second thought. I regret hoping for a little discussion where it is seen as a violation of rules.

again, as long as you are ready to bear the responsibility of harming another, do whatever you want. as a Wicca, I prefer staying benevolent and kind, even to those who traumatised me. you might argue that this essay in itself is not benevolent... after all, Wiccans don’t slander people behind their backs, you might say. but it is not my intent to slander. it is just me expressing sheer confusion over what I expected to be a community to hear out all voices, because why have a community at all if you allow for no discussion? do we shut off discussions entirely in fear of fights? but alas, it is human nature to be opposed, but it’s also human nature to still hold hands despite the differences - one just needs to acknowledge it.

blessed be.

#own post #witchblr #witchy #wicca #laconic and gross oversimplifications to this post will not be accepted.#i am naive in my own way for believing people want to be kind #but i do believe that there can be love and peace on the planet earth. as a survivor of hate #i know it.

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frosteee · 4 years ago

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Undertaker & Ciel’s Relationship (so far)

I’ve mentioned before in previous posts, and other people in the fandom have talked about it also (way before me, so I’m tagging on lol) that UT doesn’t see the Phantomhive twins as individuals, but simply members of the Phantomhive family.

That got me thinking about how UT has treated O!Ciel so far, leaving R!Ciel to the side for now.

Talking with @frederickabberline got me to realise that, aside from maybe one or two exceptions, UT refers to everybody by some title or other, usually their job (e.g.: ‘Mr Butler’ for Sebastian, ‘Earl’ for O!Ciel). And when he does refer to someone by name, which is exclusively or pretty much exclusively the Phantomhives, he always attaches that last name.

For example, most recently, when addressing Frances, even though she married out of the Phantomhive family and became a Midford, UT still addresses her as ‘Lady Frances Phantomhive‘. It’s as if the man is incapable, or unwilling, to personally recognise anyone who is not a Phantomhive.

In our discussion, frederickabberline mentioned that this detachment could be a deliberate/subconscious act for UT to protect himself from further heartache. His glee at other’s expense, leading to very, very problematic comments, could also be an extension of this. Still not excusable, but it’s an explanation.

So, how has this mindset affected his relationship with O!Ciel so far?

The Phantomhives are interchangeable to him (AKA The Amorphous Blob of Phantomhives)

On the surface this can be seen as a good thing. After all, to favour one twin over the other for x reason, as Lizzie acknowledges to herself, is inherently selfish and unfair to the other person, no matter how much of an honest or natural feeling it is.

UT does not have such a preference. When he meets O!Ciel in the Chapter 131 flashback, he calls him ‘Little Phantomhive’ and cannot tell whether he is the younger or elder brother, before stating that he doesn’t care which, not because he likes them equally but because they are Phantomhives.

As far as he is concerned, the twins are mere parts in the amorphous, ever-growing Phantomhive blob. They have no identity outside of being Phantomhives, the same as Frances. He had no special bond with either twin because the only connection between them and himself that mattered was their family name.

If UT was interested in getting to know either twin as a person, like the opportunity he had in the Ch.131 flashback, he would have attempted to seriously differentiate the two.

While he does ask which twin O!Ciel is, he does it as a rhetorical question, a joke, and then immediately follows it by dismissing the question altogether as he has already decided it doesn’t matter.

More unsettlingly, it appears UT is so disinterested in the development (physical and otherwise) of the individual Phantomhives, that to his eyes they are unchanging. Though UT does remark on O!Ciel’s small stature a few times, this is spoken like/treated as a joke more than an observation from interest.

[There are very rare exceptions to this, but I’ll get into those later.]

This is shown when he responds to Frances commenting on his lack of visible aging by stating that she still looks as if she was ‘born yesterday’.

Even Vincent, whose death UT has lamented the most openly, even shedding tears, is not exempt from this treatment at all. He is no less ‘a Phantomhive anyway’ than his children/relatives, I realised (thanks to frederickabberline again!).

Yes, UT regrets his death, but whenever he has brought it up it is always in the context that he can no longer revive him because his bones were burned to ash. (x and x). He never says anything like ‘He was a dear friend, how could I have failed him’, ‘He was a good man, why was he given such a death?’, ‘We had such good times together,’ - something to indicate an attachment to Vincent as a person.

And then, immediately following his lament, UT once more depersonalises Vincent, just like he did the twins, by stating that at least “the ‘Earl of Phantomhive’ is still with us”. It always comes back to that, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from wallowing in grief for those individuals.

As long as one Phantomhive is alive, he can deal with/suppress/channel his grief of personal losses into a goal which will keep him from losing more, and dwelling on what he has already lost.

Even when he comments on how much he dislikes the Phantomhive Watchdog work, while he mentions O!Ciel he talks about the ‘karma’ or ‘fate’ than hangs over every Phantomhive, the things every Phantomhive Watchdog deals with.

As we hear later, he is resentful of the path the Phantomhives walk, their inability to rid themselves of it (by listening to him/heeding his warnings), and the Watchdog life in general, so he doesn’t care about the effects on Ciel, but the effects the ‘chain of fate’ has on the Phantomhive family and their legacy.

This more recently extends to his statement of ‘I didn’t want to lose anymore Phantomhives’, which is as blatant an explanation as you like. It confirms where his mind has focused all this time.

UT regularly teases/dismisses Ciel regarding the trauma of his past.

@frederickabberline kindly shared with me the moment where UT describes the ‘proper’ method of killing that Jack the Ripper probably used, to O!Ciel, using O!Ciel as a prop - even though he had a human dummy to use for this purpose.

He may as well have whispered “I know what you did three years ago!”. He’s even gesturing to the boy’s abdomen/stomach area with his ring hand! With his phrasing, and the Japanese text confirms that he literally refers to “steal[ing] the precious thing”, he echoes R!Ciel’s ‘Who stole the candy from my tummy?’ message.

Oh yeah, and he does this while knowingly allowing O!Ciel to sit on the coffin with his dead/bizarre doll twin inside!

Thankfully, O!Ciel doesn’t catch on, but Jesus Christ, UT!

If UT truly cared about O!Ciel’s emotional well-being, just cared about him as an individual, why would he reference one of the most painful moments of O!Ciel’s life in such a sneaky, tactless manner, even if he knew he could get away with it here?

He does it again in Ch. 24, where UT doesn’t even hide what he’s talking about under the context of a different subject, like he did in his first appearance. Here, after remarking that dead children are commonplace in the underworld, he directly tells O!Ciel “The Earl knows that very well, doesn’t he?”.

JESUS CHRIST, UT!

He doesn’t consider O!Ciel’s feelings at all. He cares about his own amusement at O!Ciel’s expense, which extends to basically anyone else. But O!Ciel is a Phantomhive, part of the family UT is so concerned with/attached to he is literally trying to overturn the law of death for them to continue living.

But as I outlined earlier, UT does not care about any of the Phantomhives, at least the ones currently living and the previous Earl beyond the fact that they are Phantomhives.

Therefore, he does not consider O!Ciel’s trauma, or care to know about it. He didn’t care to know how he was different from his twin, they were all the same to him, so why would he care now?

Even if we consider that this black/gallows humour is UT’s personal way of coping, anyone with an ounce of tact would still not do this in front of others who they know such humour will hurt. Maybe UT has too many screws loose to care, or he is so detached he simply does not have room for it in his head.

UT does advise O!Ciel to take care of his soul, as he only has one - which considering his history with R!Ciel (who is still chilling in the zero gravity float spa coffin in the room somewhere), makes sense. But he’s still speaking to O!Ciel as a Phantomhive.

While UT is very well aware of O!Ciel’s contract to Seb the demon, and aware of the danger O!Ciel has placed his soul in, he later contextualises this as the result of O!Ciel holding the same ‘great power’ as his ancestors, which leads to them forgetting the importance of their lives/their souls.

So again, it’s about the Phantomhives as a whole, and how O!Ciel is repeating the same mistakes as his ancestors. He isn’t concerned with O!Ciel’s feelings here, even though he is clearly re-living that traumatic event front the past.

The final, and most damning, is UT’s attitude towards O!Ciel when the existence of R!Ciel is revealed. He reacts to O!Ciel’s obvious disgust, grief and terror with a shrug and exasperated “What? How can you not like this? Does it really matter if he’s alive or dead?”

UT is so detached from O!Ciel as a person, and detached/disinterested in general from human feelings beyond his own - consciously or otherwise - that he cannot fathom how the twin of the zombie twin he brought back might have an issue with what UT did.

UT is projecting, I think, his own feelings/expectations onto O!Ciel in this scene. Easy to do, because he had detached himself from the boy personally. If UT were in O!Ciel’s shoes, he would be delighted, because at this point that it does not matter to UT in what form such and such returns, human or bizarre doll, just so long as they do, and that it will be as if they never died.

And this comes before the revelation that R!Ciel’s dead body was ‘watching’ him the whole time!

Again, it’s unclear whether UT is simply bonkers and doesn’t care anymore or if he’s genuinely unable to focus on anything other than his end goal to acknowledge how messed up it is and how it’s hurting O!Ciel.

Exceptions to the rule

So far, I can point to two incidents that deviate from the usual detached manner in which UT deals/relates to O!Ciel.

The first comes in the Campania arc when UT entrusts his treasured funeral lockets to O!Ciel. Ch.64.

The look UT gives O!Ciel is important, and it is the first of two key moments which could lead to their relationship changing perhaps for the better. He looks surprised, shocked, and the light/roundness/look in Ciel’s eyes give him a more innocent, childish look.

The close up between them indicate that they are really looking at one another. Or, if this is purely UT’s POV, he is really looking at O!Ciel.

I couldn’t swear to it, but this could indicate that finally, UT is seeing O!Ciel as a little boy, not merely an extension to the Phantomhive legacy, and that this reassures him enough to entrust his most treasured possessions - the last remaining pieces of the people he cherished - to O!Ciel.

This, and his expression as he tells O!Ciel that the item is his treasure, is the first time UT shares anything personal with O!Ciel, and they share a connection for a moment, after so many years - many more for UT - of being detached/distant from one another.

The second time comes exactly twenty chapters later (may not be relevant, but I just noticed that) in the Weston Arc, where UT remarks how O!Ciel is different from his ancestors for saving Harcourt in from the rampaging bizarre dolls instead of just himself, as his predecessors would have done.

This is the first time UT acknowledges something about O!Ciel’s personality that makes him himself, and not merely an extension of the Phantomhive family or another Phantomhive making the same old mistakes on the same old path. UT seems pleased to see this.

Of course, these incidents happen before the whole ‘Hihi, your dead brother’s corpse was by your side this whole time, Earl!/’Your dead brother is a zombie, why aren’t you happy?’ event, in which he describes the twins as ‘mirrors of each other’, which harkens back to his inability/disinterest to tell the twins apart and all the issues that come with it.

UT himself

It’s difficult to say at this point whether UT is aware that how he is acting/what he is doing is wrong. If he knows that how he is treating/has treated O!Ciel is not the way the child of the family he cares for so much should be treated, and whether he justifies this in his own head (’ends justify the means’ type thing) or whether he is too insane to care anymore.

He does not deny to Othello that he has a few screws loose, so there’s that at least as far as self-awareness goes. He has likely been severely traumatised by the losses he suffered in the past, and whatever else we can theorise about his reaper past, and has done all he can to prevent more - event to the point of alienating and depersonalising the members of the same family he once deeply loved.

Whatever the case, I think enough groundwork has been laid for there to be a conflict later down the road on this point, focusing squarely on how he has viewed the Phantomhive family members for some time, the twins included.

Conclusion

While he has remained largely detached from O!Ciel and only interacted insofar as it suits his goals and his obsession, there have been moments where UT and O!Ciel have shared a personal connection where UT was forced to see O!Ciel as an individual. An individual deserving of more attention and care - PROPER attention and care - than UT has been willing to give in a long time because he has been so focused on his own goals and his own wishes for the Phantomhives.

He may for the first time actually start to consider what is truly best for the twins, instead of simply what he wants.

How he responds to this conflict within him between a newfound personal care for O!Ciel and the goal he has been working so ruthlessly towards for years is definitely interesting to think about.

It could completely throw off-balance how he has thought/operated for so long, and bring back painful memories and force him to confront ugly things about himself that he has either been too blind/mad or single-minded to acknowledge.

He might question a lot of things he’s done, his current plan even, and maybe consider working with O!Ciel and allies rather than separately from them, as he has always done. He might realise that his detachment, disinterest, and depersonalisation are flaws rather than self-protection, that do more harm than good, and realise he needs to change.

Funny, when he goes on so much about how little the Phantomhives change and how it always comes back to bite them - UT is guilty of the same, in his own way!

Anyway, I’m sure his and O!Ciel’s dynamic and relationship will change, possibly quite dramatically, soon!

What do you guys think?

#undertaker black butler #undertaker kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji spoilers #kuroshitsuji #black butler #black butler spoilers #ciel phantomhive #Ciel Phantomhive Black Butler #Ciel Phantomhive Kuroshitsuji #theory #discussion #meta

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

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Of Flowers and Lust

Here is a kofi commission for @uhohko who I had the absolute pleasure of working with because they really said ‘hey Peach here’s all your kinks in one’ and so I kind of went absolutely bonkers with this. The idea? Sex pollen, Elliott getting a full whiff of it, Bloodhound getting WRECKED LIKE THEY DESERVE.

Summary: Bloodhound loves to collects herbs and natural flora for at home remedies and cooking. This can involve some things such as mushrooms that can calm down anxieties, to natural foliage that can help you sleep, or even to the pretty yellow flowers they bring home that are to increase sex drive and fertility. Elliott is always effected much harder, more intensely by these things for some reason. Yet, he never takes the time to consider that Bloodhound says 'don't touch this' was a demand, rather than the 'suggestion' he takes it as. Or. In which Elliott inhales sex pollen and wants to breed Bloodhound until the morning is night.

Reblogs > Likes. Age in your bio (18+ only) or be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Bloodhound has a vulva and hella body mods (you can find my hc of them listed in my masterlist), Sex pollen BUT CONSENSUAL, copious amounts of cum, loud loud breeding kink, The term ‘mama’ is used for Bloodhound which is bc nb folk Can use gendered terms u know and I’m only putting this here bC SOMEONE IS GONNA CLOWN, Lots of dirty talk like filthy filthy talk, cum swallowing.

Words: 6.1k

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It should be best stated now that: Elliott did not take to listening very well.

No, no, not emotionally. No, Elliott was a fantastic partner. He was kind and sweet, even going so far as to try with all his might to help with Bloodhound’s insomnia. Gods bless him, trying to stay awake with them through the nights, eyes fighting to stay open whilst Bloodhound cozily read up next to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t take to listening well in their relationship, no, Elliott was just as attentive as Bloodhound was to their beloved in turn.

No. It is simply the fact of the matter that Elliott did not take to listening to things like ��Don’t put that in your mouth’ as a warning, but more as a suggestion.

For most things Bloodhound foraged, it wasn’t an issue. It would have minor side effects or Elliott would simply not enjoy the taste or smell of it. They did a lot of cooking now that they could cook for two- when they weren’t cooking with Makoa for the whole compound that is- and Bloodhound enjoyed finding fresh ingredients. Whether that was from the various plants they grew in their room, or what they could find on planet. Including meats that they’d hunt themself and Elliott would be ‘wowed’ by all the dishes they could create.

They took pride in being able to cook for him, and in turn they watched Elliott light up when it was his turn to make something. Their two styles of cooking varied vastly, with Elliott leaning more comforting, filling foods. Whilst Bloodhound leaned more for spices and what would be earthier and slow cooked.

With this, also came Bloodhound foraging for ‘alien plants’ as Elliott called them.

~Rest under the cut~

Nearing the arena was natural foliage and thick woods that weren’t recommended to go in, woods in which Bloodhound often found a creature to get meat from and organic vegetation. This could also lead to them going out merely to collect flora that they would crush and turn into salves, teas, medicines, various things that they must have learned from their uncle. Who Elliott only knew from Bloodhound gently opening up one night, but not a lot about him.

Bloodhound was more reserved, and Elliott made sure they knew how proud he was of them anytime they opened up with one more little thing.

It was the little things.

Recently, Elliott had been staying in their room for longer periods of time. Going from hours to days to staying an entire week. Bloodhound didn’t mind, not in the slightest. Elliott had stated it was to help their insomnia at first, only to shyly rub the back of his neck with a soft laugh and say, “And, uh, I...I like your company at night- w-well, all the time, I mean, like, of course I love your company! All the time, I just meant like, when we’re sleeping together and- and-and--”

And they’d let him talk it out of his system, hands moving only to slow down when he peeked over to see their patient gaze. He’d taken a slow breath, his cheeks flushed and a soft laugh bubbling from him when Bloodhound had smiled kindly and stated, “I understand, beloved. You need not to worry. I enjoy your company as well. At all hours.”

Just the tiniest joke to ease his nerves and make that blindingly beautiful, dimpled smile split across his face.

But, now that he was here more often, it meant he was curious in the flora Bloodhound always brought back. They had a thin cord run across their window to sun dry any flora. Always tied up and strung upside down to be dried and later crushed into powders or turned into various other things. Mushrooms were dried the same way and anything else they might try- however, Elliott was a curious creature.

Bloodhound tries to teach him, explaining the properties and uses of certain things and why they collect them. The strange vibrant, violet mushrooms were to ease anxiety if used in a small dosage. Normally used in teas or to hold under the tongue until mush to spit out.

They had started to explain that eating one, or not dissolving into tea, could cause a feeling as if being high. But when they turn around, they’d found Elliott already chomping down on one with a face of ‘uh-oh’ when they’d turned to look at him.

It was amusing to watch him laze about and whine that he couldn’t move. It wouldn’t harm him bodily or mentally, no, but Bloodhound did mildly delight in watching Elliott roll around on their bed and chirp about how ‘soooft and waaaarm and great smelling’ their bed was. Although, even more delight arose when they realized he was practically humping their bed.

Yes, it appeared Elliott’s body reacted more...acutely to certain things.

Side effects that could be rarer, such as arousal from that particular mushroom. Though even more peculiar is when he’d cum in their mouth, only to sigh and thank them in a lazy tone and say, “Yeah, you’re WAY better than a pumpkin.”

A response that had them quirking a brow, but never receiving an answer when they’d heard him snoring. Able to see him spread out like a starfish with a half hard dick flopped on his hip.

Attractive.

For most things, Bloodhound has learned that in the case of them bringing home foreign flora or vegetation, that by default Elliott will not listen. Thankfully they’ve never brought anything dangerous home, besides some poisonous bark that they kept AWAY from Elliott in another area in which he would not curiously bring it to his nose.

Today, however, they’ve brought home beautiful yellow flowers. They’re small, almost budding open like a tube with its petals with cobalt pollen stems inside. They bloom in a group, almost looking like lavender on their trimmed stems to be able to fit into a tightly sealed bag.

Bloodhound enters their room in full gear, shutting and locking the door behind them and finding their home cleaned up. With only just a jacket over the pile of cushions and furs that acted almost as a couch in the center of the main room.

Different bones rest along the walls of their home, either from their own hunts or Artur or Munnin bringing them in. Picture frames that Elliott had brought them with pictures of them in more intimate scenarios like their first date, or a picture that just consisted of Elliott taking a selfie that he had given as a joke gift for their birthday that they wound up cherishing. To different potted plants that lined the open wall towards their small kitchen area.

Elliott comes around the corner looking freshly showered. He’s got on a black t-shirt that’s a little tight on him and showing his midriff, most certainly belonging to Bloodhound, and some gray sweatpants. It’s casual wear, showing he’s already made up his mind on staying for a few days.

A decision that Bloodhound gladly accepts.

His curls are still a bit damp, it looks like, and as they start to remove their gear, starting with their respirator, they inhale and can smell the products he uses in his hair and the soaps he must have borrowed. Their full lips quirk up briefly, the idea that he smelled like them always irking a flicker of possessiveness in their stomach.

Theirs.

“Ah, hey, Houndie! Was wondering when you’d be back!” Elliott greets, coming closer as they start to remove their helmet, shaking their frizzy red curls free and pulling their goggles up and onto the top of their head.

They greet him properly once he reaches them, gently cupping his cheeks and pulling him close to rest their foreheads together.

It’s quiet and intimate, letting their breath mingle and noses gently nuzzling. Elliott would have never guessed for them to be so affection and intimate, not back before they were dating- or even friends for that matter! It had taken all of Bloodhound’s courage to even hook their pinkies their first date.

Even now he smiles through it, keeping his eyes closed for the twenty seconds Bloodhound holds him before gently letting him go. “I apologize. It took longer to find than I thought it would.” Speaking as they move to remove their upper armor. Too heavy and hot to be worn indoors. They’re left in their long sleeved, tight black shirt, gloves, combat boots, and tactical pants.

A look in which they know Elliott is graciously looking at their ass once they turn their back to him.

Bloodhound moves around him towards their counter area they’d built. Set up with cutting boards to the side, herb separators, and various knives to help them with the set up. They set the clear bag full of flowers atop, feeling as Elliott curiously stalks behind them.

With their hands still gloved, they pull out the flowers and set them on top of the smooth counter. Peeking around for their ribbon to tie them up and huffing when they find it not in sight. They can already feel Elliott hovering behind them, making that curious little noise he does in a quiet question of what they had.

“They are called The Child Bestowers,” Bloodhound begins, watching from the corner of their good eye as Elliott shuffles to their side to peek around them. “They are for aiding in arousal, for those who need help, as well as providing a pleasant sensation if turned into lubrication. They are also said to help with fertility, if you are to drink them in teas or bathe with them. Or to increase sperm count, if the person having them has external genitalia.” They explain, gently aligning them into a bouquet to rest on top of each other.

“Soooo...it’s a sex plant?” Elliott frankly says. A statement to which Bloodhound lets out a rushed breath of amusement from their nose.

“I suppose, if you wish to be blunt, yes. Wait here, and do not touch them. Elliott, am I understood?”

“Aw, c’mon, babe! What’s the harm? I just get horny? Don’t need plants to do that.” Elliott coos at them, making an obvious look back at their ass. But when they shoot him a look, he sighs, holding a hand over his heart and a hand flat palmed towards them with his eyes closed. “I, Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt, will not touch the horny flowers. Scout’s honor.”

There’s a strain to that word.

Elliott was always good with his words; Silver tongued and quick witted, a trickster truly walking among the mortal plane. It is what attracted Bloodhound to him in the first place, besides his kindness. They narrow their eyes at his face, watching him peek open one eye and giving his very best puppy dog eyes when they look at him until it’s Bloodhound’s turn to relent with a sigh.

He’s going to do something. They know he will. Always so curious about the effects. There should be nothing odd if he were to touch them, just that the pollen was potent as is and Elliott always had...new reactions to things. As if his immune system were built differently. He would most certainly become aroused, but they worried about what the full effect would be...

They leave the room to find ribbon so they may string up the bouquets to dry. Finding the ribbon resting in the window sill where they must have left it absentmindedly. And in just maybe the minute they are gone, they return to Elliott who is standing perfectly innocent with his hands folded behind his back.

Suspicious at his innocent looking face, his doe-like eyes fluttering at them, they narrow their own. Carefully coming around the counter and setting the ribbon next to the flowers. It’s with great attention to detail do they see the speck of yellow on his nose, “Elliott did you tou--”

“I did not TOUCH the flowers, swear!”

“Did you smell them?”

That’s when Elliott’s lips purse, eyes flickering to the side away from their face as if a child who had been caught. He eventually gives in, sighing, “Yeah, but they smelled really good? And I don’t think anything is gonna happen! Look, no boner!” As if to make a point, he leans back and away from the counter, gesturing blatantly to his crotch. Their eyes briefly flicker down, quirking a brow to see the tent resting there and their own cheeks warming.

“Elliott...”

“What?” He blinks, looking down and then his own face flushes. It’s as if Bloodhound and himself had never had intercourse because both his hands fly to hide said tent, his face burning red. “Shit! I-I-I didn’t even feel it??? It just- it just feels warm? Like usual? Aw shit maybe it did do something? I’m not gonna die, right? Death by horny doesn’t really sound like an extrav - an extgan- ext — a cool way to go .”

Bloodhound sighs with an amused tone at his franticness, amused at how his hands had gone from hiding to instead gesturing like he normally does. Yes, it was supposed to aid in arousal, but it wasn’t supposed to have such a quick effect. Then again, Elliott’s body always seemed to experience the more intense side of things when it came to new flora and foliage.

“No, there is nothing deadly within their pollens. However, you may be more difficult to satis--” They cut themself off then when Elliott lets out this pained whine, seeming to scoot closer to them until they’re backed up against the counter throughout their singular sentence.

Their breath hitches, hands coming to rest on his waist in almost a comforting manner when he ducks his head down. At first, they think he’s going for a kiss, until he’s nosing at their neck, nudging their head to the side and pressing open mouthed, hot kisses up to their pierced ear.

Bloodhound’s breath catches, squeezing his waist gently and running their hands up along his body until they can get to his curls. “Y-you may be more difficult to satisfy, when you are- ah- affected by the- the pollen-” They manage to breathe out, twisting their fingers at the root to hold him, a soft gasp leaving them when his teeth nip at their jawline.

But, even through the haze Elliott must be feeling, he still manages to huff out in a strained tone, ”Do...Do you want to...? I can go to the shower and deal- ah- deal with this?”

“I wish to aid in however you need.” Bloodhound responds honestly, pulling his hair gently when his teeth sink into their neck and they feel him sucking. Sensitive there, they let out a soft growl that only makes Elliott groan. His hands going from gripping the counter to hoisting them up by their thighs onto it, pushing the flowers to the side to get them out of the way.

They know a hickey will rest over their flesh over the splash of lighter skin tone they had resting on their neck- one of Elliott’s favorite places to bruise them. Bloodhound’s breath hitches when his hands slide over their pants-clad thighs, up to their waist as he starts to leave another bruise just under their ear.

Bloodhound snarls softly, running their nails over his scalp and one hand dragging down Elliott’s nape like he likes. He lets out the prettiest sound against their neck, his hips absentmindedly humping against them without thinking. They abuse this by dragging their nails down his back, grabbing his muscular ass and pressing him forward with each thrust so he’d properly dry hump them.

It sparks the reaction they crave, where Elliott lets out this beautiful, shaky, sharp whimper. His mouth trails back up, pressing kisses up their jawline until he can press their foreheads together.

Bloodhound takes the time to let their eyes remain half lidded to watch him. Elliott looked gorgeous, his hair a mess, brows furrowed and his eyes shut in concentration. His full lips are parted, letting their breath mingle in small pants puffing from his mouth. Something they can’t help but lean forward to kiss him to take his breaths.

Elliott moans into their mouth upon contact, one of his hands pressing to the counter, the other holding onto their waist to drag them closer to the edge. His hips are frantic, pounding against them as if he could fuck them through both their layers of clothing. It feels like he’s trying to, really. Bloodhound can feel every grind up against them, making their own breath strain as wetness builds up between their own legs from the consistent pressure on their clit.

Not to mention how much they adored to see him so desperate.

Their hands drag back up to his hair, pulling on his curls to break the kiss and watching as he follows the motion beautifully. “Fuck, Hound, baby- God, fuck- it's really- ah- it's so hot, it feels so hot, he-heavy-” He’s sobbing out so sweetly, his hips stuttering when they go for his exposed throat, dragging their double canines over the side of his neck and lightly biting down on him to leave a bruise.

Elliott sobs out, his hips slamming up against them and his hands falling to their ass. He practically yanks them to him, near making them get knocked off the counter. But they quickly figure out why when they’re halfway through sucking a dark bruise into his neck when they feel the wetness starting to seep into the front of their own pants-

Wait why can they feel it through their own pants?

Elliott’s still clinging to them, his body shaking and moans leaving his throat. His hips are still gently humping against them, his arms still locked, when normally by now he’d ease up and maybe be embarrassed.

“Elliott-” Bloodhound breathes out in his ear, causing him to turn his face into their neck. He’s whimpering something, his lips moving against their skin, but they can’t hear him quite well.

Not until he’s repeating the same phrase, so shaky and high pitched of; “Still cumming , oh-oh God, baby, fuck, s-still cumming, cumming, cumming, cumming-” In this string of desperation that makes Bloodhound’s breath catch.

It takes a total of thirty seconds until he can finally stop shaking. Elliott is falling to his knees; His entire body trembling and Bloodhound can smell how strong his scent lingers on them. It makes their mouth water, but even more so when they look down to see him sitting on his knees, thighs apart and head back. His face is flushed, lips parted and panting and his doe-like eyes half lidded looking up at them like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

If he wasn’t in such a desperate state, perhaps they’d toy with him like this. Make him beg for release. But as it appears right now, Elliott was cumming for a rather long time, and that alone warranted some looking into. And sadly, that did not involve seeing his resolve crumble and making him beg like a good boy.

Bloodhound’s eyes trail down his body, noticing that the wet spot isn’t just soaking a spot on the front of his pants, but instead almost as if someone had dumped a bottle full of water on his front- and Bloodhound’s for that matter.

Side effects-

“Houndie-” Elliott whimpers out, stopping Bloodhound’s staring as they shuffle off the counter. He immediately seeks their comfort, wrapping his arms around their leg and pressing his cheek to their outer thigh. Their breath hitches at the sight of him so close, but they gently rest their hand atop his head, using their nails to massage gently at his scalp.

“Shh, shh, you are alright, beloved, you are alright. Can you stand? Or crawl, perhaps?” Their last words are playful, warranting that beautiful smile to etch across Elliott’s face. More upturned on one side with his dimples creasing into his cheeks. And at first it seems he’s relaxed himself, especially when he murmurs a playful ’woof’ before his body trembles and a whimper erupts from his lips. “Perhaps I shall carry you?”

“N-no, no, I can do it, just- God, baby, I’m...I hate to say it, but I don’t think I-I'm close to done?” Elliott manages to get out, his tone breathless, his pupils blown huge when he turns his gaze up to them. Their heart constricts at how helpless he looks, but unfortunately it only turns Bloodhound on further to see him so desperate.

It’s a bit of a shaky walk back into Bloodhound’s bedroom. Immediately Elliott is flopped onto the bed, the furs cool against his overheated flesh. Bloodhound helps him to strip, removing their own boots and their ruined pants so they may sit in their boyshorts and sports bra with Elliott completely nude.

Bloodhound’s breath hitches when their eyes fall to his cock, already hard again and pressed against his abdomen. The head was red, flushed and peeking from his foreskin, but what really gets their attention is his balls.

They’re swollen, almost a handful each rather than as a whole. Gently, Bloodhound rests their cold fingertips over the flesh, their eyes flickering up to watch Elliott as he pants heavily and squirms like a dog in heat. Even going so far as to his hips humping upwards and a heavy glob of pre-cum to bead at the head of his cock.

Oh, he was getting affected hard.

Bloodhound had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to walk straight after this.

Running their fingertips along his cock, Elliott lets out a sound as if they would have been grabbing him fully. Sensitive, it seemed. Bloodhound fights a smile, gently grabbing his cock beneath the head and smearing the pre-cum with their thumb with a soft coo arising from them, ”You are so wet, my love.”

Elliott makes a strained sound in his throat, his hips thrusting up into their loose grip and sobbing out something incoherent. He’s a mess, panting and starting to look more flushed by the second. And judging by the way his abdomen is tightening, they can only guess how sensitive he was.

Yes, this was going to be a long session. It appeared the pollen he’d inhaled worked more like a ‘sex pollen’ on him, something that should only effect beasts with outer genitalia that came across the plant. Working like an aphrodisiac, for beasts it made their stamina much longer, including their...their sperm count to be higher, resulting in swollen looking testicles and an insatiable need to breed their mates.

Bloodhound swallows, their mouth already feeling dry at the idea of Elliott trying to breed them. It makes their thighs press closer together, a shaky breath leaving them as they try to compose themself in order to take care of him.

They only get to pump his cock a few times before Elliott’s scrambling for them, whimpering about something frantically that sounds a lot like he’s mumbling, “Need to taste you, need you, baby, I need you-” But they can hardly make it out over the sound of their own yelp when he’s flipping them.

He’s at least got enough coherency to pause when he hooks his fingers around their underwear, waiting until they give their consent before he‘ s quick to tug their boyshorts off. He sits back between their spread thighs with this starving look in his eyes as they rake across their form. Flustered at the attention and control being tugged out from under them, Bloodhound’s face flushes and a soft growl of his name starts to arise as they bristle and lean up on their elbows.

“R-right!” He manages to get out, immediately moving to lie on his abdomen, hooking his arms under their powerful thighs and nuzzling at their red curls between their thighs.

Normally, Elliott was a starving man between their thighs, always a mess of humping the bed and moaning into them as if they tasted divine. And now is no different; His tongue desperately licking up their cunt to their fat, engorged clit, lapping at it and letting his tongue rest just underneath to feel them throb in anticipation.

It’s with another snarl and Bloodhound’s hand pressing at the back of his head does Elliott wrap his lips around their enlarged clit, suckling how they liked and making their head toss to the side. A moan blossoms from their chest, their hips tilting upwards when his tongue frantically dips down to their hole to lick up the wetness seeping from them. But then he’s pulling back briefly, pressing his nose to their mound just above their clit and inhaling their scent, letting his nose nuzzle at their clit in a way that makes Bloodhound gasp out.

“You smell so good, baby, can’t get enough-” Elliott is just about moaning into them, his words causing their ears to burn red and for them to bite their bottom lip at the attention. Bloodhound starts to growl out something in reply, maybe for him to focus on his meal rather than speaking, but then he’s continuing with a low voice, “Want to fill you full of pups. Would you like that, puppy? Want to be filled?”

That...

That is most certainly new.

Bloodhound’s body betrays their thoughts when their clit jerks heavily and a fresh wave of slick seeps out of them. Their face burns, their body desperately aching in ways they didn’t think they’d ever experienced before. They can feel their pulse in their clit when Elliott lets out this low moan of appreciation, wrapping his lips around it and moaning into them as if even the thought of breeding them was too much to bear.

Bloodhound cums in record time, fingers scrabbling to hold Elliott’s hair as huffing, small growls come out with every breath. Their brows are knitted, their head thrown back and full lips parted to pant heavily. They’re almost dizzy from the orgasm, managing to make enough sense to feel Elliott’s fingers pressing into them. Two fingers go in with ease, curling up expertly into their g-spot and making their head throw to the side with a cry of, “Elliott!” Leaving them in a desperate tone.

“Fuck, yes, keep crying like that, sweetheart.” Elliott’s voice is thick with lust, something they think they’d only ever heard when he was on his knees and woofing like a dog for them.

To see him- to feel him take control even in a state like this? Bloodhound isn’t too sure how to feel quite yet about their lack of control on him but oh, oh if he keeps moving his fingers like that-

“Good pup, let me stretch out your sweet little cunt so I can breed you so full, you’re gonna feel so good on my cock-” Elliott breathes against them, his tone desperate and tinging on a whine, licking flatly over their clit and making their hips jerk. Bloodhound doesn’t think they can get any redder at this point from his filthy mouth. Even more so when they feel him nuzzle at their mound just to hear him inhale their scent as his fingers curl upwards and fuck into them.

Their second orgasm comes quick, fit with them snarling and their eyes flashing a glowing red without their permission. Every sense is enhanced, the scent of Elliott, the scent of themself, the feeling of him touching their body, every sound made, their vision black and white and Elliott’s body highlighted in glowing red. The feeling of his fingers pounding into them is almost too much again, a whimper sharply leaving their throat just as Elliott pulls his fingers out and sits up.

He uses their slick to lubricate his own cock, the sight sending a possessive feeling through their body resulting in a low, rolling snarl. They go to move, to maybe sit up and shove him down, to take back their control that they had lost- but that’s quickly cut off when he’s rolling them onto their abdomen. He’s yanking their hips up until they’re forced to brace their upper body by crossing their arms on a pillow and resting their head on their forearms.

“Elliott-” They manage to choke out when he’s taking his cock and sliding the head a few times over their lower lips and over their clit. Bloodhound’s body is tensed, feeling the press into them and their mouth falls open to let out a cry when he sinks home into them in one, clean thrust.

It’s as if Elliott’s body had only enough in of himself to remember foreplay for them before the storm hits. Because he’s grabbing onto their hips, tugging them back in a way he’s never done before, fucking into them with harsh thrusts. His balls, as engorged and heavy as they are, slap forward against them and cause consistent stimulation that has Bloodhound’s nails sinking into their own arms. They move their mouth to press against their own flesh, trying to muffle the pathetic sounds erupting from their chest.

Normally, they had the control in the bedroom. Even in positions like this, they would talk Elliott through it, call him their dog or how pathetic he sounded. Or ride him and hold their hands over his throat, or yank his hair back and force him to cry out.

The control they had was for their own comfort, always so nervous to give it up. On the nights Elliott could gently coax them to, it was with gentle words and nudges.

They...they think they prefer when he just takes it like this.

There’s no thinking as Elliott fucks into their body. He’s vocal, as always, moaning behind them and filth spilling out of, “Want me to cum inside you, baby?” Which Bloodhound keens in response to without thinking, their hips pressing back into a thrust and that seems to do it.

Again, in record time, Elliott is cumming. His nails dragging into their thighs until he falls forward to hook his arms around them tightly. He trembles as he cums inside of them, and they quickly figure out that Elliott did in fact get the same results that a beast might. Because they’re feeling fuller...and fuller...and fuller by the second.

So much so that when Elliott pulls his hips back in the slightest, cum comes spilling out and down their thighs messily. Bloodhound can’t help but lift their hips a bit to their best of ability, peeking down to watch it trail messily down with a low groan.

It’s when Elliott runs his fingers through it and brings them to Bloodhound’s lips do they really think he’s being swayed even further by the pollen. When they don’t immediately take him up on the offering, his fingers grab their long hair into a ponytail, pulling it and effectively making their head come up with a matching snarl erupting from their lips.

And that’s when they part their lips, allowing for him to smear his cum on their split, pierced tongue with a satisfied groan of, “Good dog.” Cooing from his lips. Fit with his fingers messily dragging down the corner of their mouth as if to smear it on their face.

From there, it’s a blur. At some point Elliott’s managed to take off Bloodhound’s sports bra to leave them in nothing, moving them around again and again. So many different positions they wind up in- bent over the bed, on top of Elliott and riding him with his hips slamming up into them, to on their side with their leg thrown over his shoulder and their snarling and growling ending up slowly turning to weak moans and cries, their voice growing hoarse. To them riding him again, their arms pulled behind their back and angling their body just so Elliott could fuck up into them like a toy.

They’ve both cum so many times, Bloodhound’s lost count. Only feeling fuller by the minute, the taste of his cum lingering on their tongue from every time he’s shoved his fingers into their mouth eagerly.

Now Elliott has them with their back to his chest, one arm tossed around his shoulders and one of his own arms tucked around their waist to hold them. His other hand had been grabbing their jaw, forcing them to watch their own shaky body get fucked by him. “Look at you, Houndie, so good for me. My good dog. You're gonna be so cute all swollen, hm?”

Bloodhound had sobbed out, eyes near about rolling as another weak orgasm wracked their own frame. The visuals and the scent too much, able to watch his fat cock slam into their cunt with their clit engorged and reddened jerking with each contraction. From this angle, they can see how his cock moves inside of them from the slight bump of their lower abdomen, to how messy their thighs are with cum and how strings of it are left connecting them to Elliott’s hips with each messy slap up against them.

Elliott’s beautiful moans in their ear are low when he scoops up a glob of cum on their thigh, dragging it to Bloodhound’s mouth to smear it all over their tongue again. They obey near instantly, sticking out their tongue to let him do so before swallowing with a whimper. They must do it too soon, because Elliott’s smearing the rest over the corner of their mouth, moving to cup their cheek this time and smearing it over their cheekbone as well.

“Nngh --” Bloodhound moans out, trying to turn their head to bury it into Elliott’s hair, but he quickly catches their jaw again, forcing them to keep watching as he fucks up into them.

“That’s it, good dog, take it, take it-” Elliott near about growls out, moving his hand from their jaw when they finally stay put. He moves it to grab at one of their breasts, thumbing a sensitive, pierced nipple just to make their cunt clench weakly. Before he’s splaying his hand out on their abdomen and cooing through desperate little moans, “G- gonna be the cutest mama. Gonna fill you fucking full, baby, make sure you’re full of pups w-with your cute little- ah- cunt--”

Bloodhound doesn’t think that either of them have any thoughts left. He’s almost frantic to breed them, but there’s something loving about the way he speaks the word ‘mama’. It could almost make them believe the effects were starting to wear off with how tenderly spoken it is. But, perhaps that is merely their own secret interest in perhaps having a child with him trying to emerge.

They must have turned their head, because Elliott’s got his hand back on their jaw to keep them watching. Bloodhound’s breathing so hard, panting and sobbing out by the time Elliott finally cums again. It must have been the twelfth time already, and they’d lost count of even their own.

He groans so beautifully in their ear, burying his face into their shoulder and clinging to them as he cums. And dutifully, Bloodhound watches as he does, burying himself to the hilt inside of them and watching his balls tighten, how cum dribbles out of them because it’s too much.

Bloodhound isn’t really too sure at what point they do finally pass out. But they wake up with possibly the most sleep they’d ever had in years, rested, sore, bruised, and...

Clean?

They’re still naked, a low groan leaving them as their eyes flutter open. They sit up to find their furs that had been on their bed are gone, possibly gone to be washed, and instead they are curled up in one of Elliott’s blankets that he leaves when their furs become too hot for him. Carefully, they roll to their side as they lie back down, finding said menace of a boyfriend passed out as well and cleaned up.

He must have had the time to wash them both off before he’d fallen asleep. How thoughtful.

Carefully moving once again, they scoot closer to Elliott to gently rest a hand on his head. Immediately he makes a soft, moaning sound, rolling over into them so he can wrap their arms around their waist and bury his face into their chest. Resulting in Bloodhound lying back on their back, playing with his hair in the morning light.

Perhaps they could keep a sampling of the pollen for more...experimentation.

If Elliott were to be interested in having another six hour long session.

Bloodhound’s lips flicker up into a small smile as a thought crosses their mind.

Perhaps Elliott would be interested in actually...trying for a child at some point. He had said he always wanted to be a stay at home father...

When they hear him snore against their chest, nosing his way back in with a comforted sigh, they can’t help how bright their heart feels at the idea.

#Miragehound #Bloodhound #Mirage #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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