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vetrenar · 2 years

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Hell yeah, I’m back! Or, more precisely, we: I and “Promises and requests”, second chapter!

For ones who find it by chance, you can read the first chapter here. So… Jackpot!

No big actions, just a dumbass of uncle and an angrybird of nephew continue their respective adjustment to the situation, during which Nero gets back some of his equipment and Dante fills some white spots on the mental map that his brother and nephew are. Unsurprisingly, some of these discoveries are hard to swallow, but... Well, it's nothing new for the Sparda bloodline.

"I need to go to Fortuna," Nero says.

Dante looks at him over the pages of the magazine. The kid is sitting on the floor, numerous parts of the revolver are laid out on a piece of cloth in front of him like some kind of fancy Lego constructor, badass world edition. This, as Dante already knows, is his favorite way to pass the time. Nero turned out to be more than a decent shooter, but his weapon spends much more time being disassembled than actually working, and when Nero really tries it, he usually takes a shot or two, and then swears and returns to his attempts to create his Masterpiece. Dante would crack a joke about dangers of obsession with perfectionism, but he still remember Nell’s complains about his habits of destroying one gun after another, trying to fire them with inhuman speed. At least the kid has decency and skills to works at his weapon by himself, without dragging other people into the mess.

Yesterday marked a week since Nero crossed the doors of "Devil May Cry" for the first time. It was a strange time for Dante. He too used to live alone; it's just weird to hear someone else's footsteps in the next room, or notice that someone has moved books from place to place, or, stepping into the kitchen in the morning, to find there, in addition to the pizza leftovers from yesterday, half a serving of scrambled eggs left in the pan. Weird but not burdensome. Vergil turned out to be right: Nero is an exceptionally mature and sensible kid. And while his obsession with cleanliness is no match for Patty's, still, in just a couple of days, "Devil May Cry" was completely stripped of many its vital decorations, such as cobwebs in the corners and a mysteriously musty atmosphere. Dante watched these changes with cautious apprehension, but the kid had not yet encroached on his magazines and creative chaos on the table, so the legendary demon hunter allowed him to be.

(He, however, mentally drew a line here, preparing to defend it with his life if necessary. Even inherited OCD must have some borders.)

Otherwise, they gradually began to develop a routine for themselves. Nero cooks, cleans, reads books and reassembles his revolver. Dante sleeps, flips through magazines and orders pizza. For better or worse, he only had a single gig in the past week, and this one was in the dead of night, so he didn't have to worry too much about the Vergil’s ghost haunting him for leaving his son unattended.

Though… When he returned in the early morning, all covered with demonic sludge and gore, Nero was just preparing breakfast. Dante caught his gaze - attentive, appraising, taking in even the smallest details. He expected questions or demands to go on the next hunt together. But in the end, neither followed.

And that was it. In the week Nero spent in the shop, they never really talked. Oh, they spoke, that's for sure - and Dante enjoyed every minute of it, because, having a not-to-bad sense of dry humor, Nero just wasn’t able to accept a joke at his experience - but none of their conversations touched anything deeper than the choice of pizza toppings. Everything else - questions, doubts, inner thoughts and wishes – was up in the air, but never in the words.

It isn't like he doesn't know how to behave with kids in general. After Patty, the official rating of Dante’s child-handling skills was upgraded from "terrible" to "almost satisfactory" (to everyone’s surprise, Dante himself included). He is almost sure that if Nero was some random angsty teenager, they would have found a common ground already. But… The thing is, Nero isn’t a random teenager. He is a family, and family is a monster of a completely different level in Dante’s eyes.

Family always has been something to fight, and grieve, and sting with hurtful words, not talk to. And now, facing a fresh-baked family member, Dante finds himself with no idea on how to proceed farther. Is he supposed to condole the kid? To pretend that everything is fine and give him time to pull himself together? To ask Nero about his childhood (Dante isn’t ashamed to admit to himself that he really, really wants to know what woman made Vergil to lose his pants. Until recently, we was one hundred percent sure that cold-blooded pricks like his brother reproduce by gemmation) or will these questions be too privy?

He doesn’t know. So now, when Nero says something that possibly can be tied with the blank mystery of his past, Dante does the best thing that he can think about: stretches his lips in a lazy smile and gives Nero a friendly, totally unconcerned look:

"’Fortuna’, huh? What is this? Some casino?"

“City.” Nero briefly describes island’s whereabouts and Dante whistles.

"Hah, it's almost half a world from here. Not exactly a morning promenade. What you forgot there, please say?"

"My sword."

This picks Dante’s interest. So far, the only blade he'd seen in the boy's hands had been Yamato, but it was obvious that to Nero, she was more of a token than a weapon to fight. Not like Dante can’t understand him.

"The sword, huh?.. This I like. But couldn't you leave it a little closer?" he waits for an answer in silence and winces a little. "Come on, kid, throw me a bone here. You can't say a half of phrase and leave me hanging in the air!"

Nero frowns, and Dante feels a brief prick in his heart. Somehow, the boy managed to adopt this expression from his father completely, without changing even the slightest detail. However, despite the stern look, Nero still decides to honor him with an answer (what Vergil, if Dante was to bet, would never do):

"We had to leave it there for reparation. The ignition engine broke..."

"Engine? Inside the sword?"

"Yes. It allows to increase the power of the blow..."

What follows is an extremely excited, a little too full of technical details lecture, during which Dante reaches out for a can of beer, opens it and drinks up to half. From time to time, his mind catches individual words like "The Order of the Sword", "demons" and "dislike of firearms" (Undoubtedly, to Vergil's big satisfaction. The damn snob never understood the charms of a good firearm), but the rest flies in one ear and out the other.

At least until the last sentence.

"...and since these hoity-toity purists worship Sparda, they..."

"They WHAT?!" The forgotten can flies to the side, and Dante coughs. Inwardly, he wonders if a half-demon could die choking on beer, but the thought vanishes almost immediately, overwhelmed by more important issues. Outwardly, he probably presented a rather pathetic sight, because Nero looks at him with something akin to concern.

Grunting and somehow gathering himself eventually, Dante stretches out his hands forward:

"... I... okay. Hey, kid. Say it again. They worship demon as a god?"

With a strange expression on his face, Nero nods, and then another lecture follows. This one Dante pays much more attention to.

Finally Nero stops talking, and silence reigns in the room. Not for long, because soon the kid opens his mouth again:

"If everything goes well, then I'll be back in two weeks. It depends on whether there is a suitable ferry..." he pauses, and the fingers of his demonic hand twitch nervously. "Hey, Dante. You can... lend me some money? I don’t have enough for the journey."

(Dante. Nero never called him uncle. Although Dante himself did not find the strength to address his nephew otherwise as "kid".

They really have a long way to go.)

Dante sighs and, deftly kicking the phone into his hand, dials the number.

- Morrison? I'll be away... for a week or maybe two. Don't let Lady blow up the office, okay?..

***

Fortuna turns out to be a strange place that looked as city-sized decorations for some movie about Medieval Ages. Even more impressive is the giant vertical slab in the center of the city, which Nero presented as the sealed Hell Gate. At the sight of this, Dante whistles. Almost immediately, a picture of Vergil comes to his mind, circling around the Gate like a cat around a display case of fish, and he can't help but snicker. Nero turns to look at him with a frown on his face, but doesn't comment. Since their arrival in the city, the kid has been on edge, and it seems that any random breeze can set off an explosion. And while it would certainly be an entertaining sight, Dante decided it would be best to leave him alone.

Dozens of small needles tingle his skin, signifying a demonic presence somewhere on the outskirts of the city. Dante makes a mental note to go there with Nero for some quality family bonding time when the kid will get his sword back.

For now, Nero strides quickly ahead of him with grim determination, barely looking around. Rare passers-by give the two of them condemning looks, but the kid completely ignores them. He only slows down after walking a few blocks. After stories about mechanical swords (and although he remained a firm supporter of the Demon Arms, he couldn’t deny that it sounded cool), Dante expected to see a futuristic factory or at the very least a fantasy smithy, but Nero stops before the small house, so cozy that it would fit straightly into a fairytale. Noticing how Nero looks around uncertainly, Dante silently steps back into the nearest shadow and waves his hand: go. Whatever business the boy had with the inhabitants of this fabulous abode, it would be better not to complicate the situation if it is not necessary.

A melodious voice responds to a knock on the door, and almost immediately a pretty brown-haired woman appears on the threshold. At the sight of Nero, her face instantly brightens.

"Nero!" Wasting no time, she envelops the kid in a warm hug. There is so much genuine warmth in the way she says the name of his nephew that Dante's heart aches with memories and unconcealed jealousy. "Thanks Savior. We were wondering how soon you'd show up." She pulls away, a slight shadow moving across her face. "Kyrie and Credo aren't at home right now. If you wait until tonight..."

"No, no." Nero steps back a little. Dante notices that he holds his demonic arm a little behind himself, not completely hiding it, but as if slightly moving it away from the woman's gaze. "Actually, I've come for the Red Queen. Has she already been repaired? Credo should have left her for me here."

"Red Queen?" thoughtfully, the woman raises her finger to her lips. "Ah, you're talking about your sword... Yes, Credo left it in the garage."

"Good. Can I pick her up?"

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" Genuine disappointment sounds in the woman's voice. "Credo and Kyrie..."

"Yes. I know. Tell them I'm sorry, okay? I'll drop by later."

"...As you say. Just don’t forget: you both are always welcome here. Is Mr. Vergil with you? Give him my best regards."

"...Yeah. Of course."

With these words, Nero follows the woman into the garage next to the house and soon emerges from there with a huge metal case on his back and - unexpectedly - an elegant bouquet in his hand. Without looking back, he leaves. Dante silently emerges from his hiding place in the shadows and, with his hands behind his head, follows him.

Much to his delight, he discovers that Nero is undoubtedly heading towards the source of the demonic presence. Gradually, the houses around them become more and more ramshackle, and the wild vegetation takes more and more place. However, the city still does not end, and Dante decides that it’s a good time to put the end to his vow of silence for today.

"So this is your sword, then?" he looks at the case, which is bigger than Nero by a head. "Looks cool. But can you even handle her? Judging by the size, I’m not sure which one of you will swing whom.”

Not that Dante and the Rebellion at Nero’s age were a better spectacle, but the kid doesn't need to know about it.

"Ha? Don’t be idiot. Of course, I can handle her!" Despite the hasty answer, there is an uncertain note in Nero's voice. And Dante, because that's what annoying uncles do, can't help but go for the hit:

"Yes? And then how did you manage to break her? Poor thing…"

"Ahhh, shut up!" If it wasn't for his burden, the kid probably would have already punch him in the face already. Although Dante got the impression that Nero was more concerned about the safety of the bouquet of flowers than the weight of the case.

For now, deprived of the opportunity to shut up his beloved uncle with a fist, Nero confines himself to throwing lightning at him with a glance.

"This sword was given to me six months ago. It was a training accident. We fought and I revved her too much, and..." he clears his throat with obvious embarrassment. "Well, she had to be left here for repairs and an additional reinforcement"

"Broke the toy on the first day? A way to thank the benefactor."

"At least I got this jerk!.. " Nero trails off abruptly, and in Dante's head, with a dry click, the words "jerk" and "training" come together. It seems that for representatives of at least two generations of Sparda bloodline, this combination could mean only one person.

"...I can't imagine Vergil letting you have a mechanical sword."

(The poor bore must have had a stroke when he saw this marvel of engineering for the first time. And then he probably went off to read a lecture the first knight who came to hand about how much they dishonor the memory of Sparda.)

Nero shrugs.

“It was my birthday. And none of our Demon Arms work with me well. Besides, Credo, who gave me her, has prepared a speech with a list of ten extremely reasoned arguments..."

"Credo, huh?" This is the third time Dante has heard this name and the first time he can understand anything about the identity of this mysterious person. Anyone who could convince Virgil of anything deserved instant admiration in his book, but damn, this guy sounded like a real bore too.

"Yes. He serves in the Order. Kyrie’s brother." Nero's voice changes to unfamiliar, soft tone when he talks about them. "We are childhood friends. Although..." he looks down at his demonic hand and clenches his fist. "Lately, we don't get to see each other often."

They are now on the very outskirts of the city, and only ruined remains of the buildings stand around. Dante can almost hear the demons swarming in the depths of the forest, and he’s tempted to rush headlong there and start kicking asses.

However, Nero goes no further. At one point, he stops and slowly, almost carefully, turns to the nearest remains of the house. These are not much different from the rest: the same pile of time-worn stones and rotten wood. However, when Dante, following Nero, takes a step towards the ruins, he halts in his track. A familiar cold, refreshing aura touches his senses. It is not strong: rather, a little more than an weak echo. But even this echo is enough to make Dante stop and silently watch as Nero, leaving the case lying on the road, goes inside the ruins and kneels down in the middle of it, placing a bouquet on the mossy stone slab.

Several minutes pass in complete silence. With his back turned to him, Dante does not see Nero's face.

He's not sure he wants to see it. He… he is not sure if he ever felt more like outsider.

Finally Nero gets up and returns to the path. His eyes are hidden under strands that have fallen on his face. Bouquet is left inside ruins, and the its bright color contrasts with dirty green-brown of stone and moss. Dante waits for Nero to approach him and then quietly asks:

"What is it?"

"Our house." Nero bends down, picks up the case from the ground, and returns it to his shoulder. “Let’s go. It's time to kick demonic asses."

***

Uncle-nephew bonding time goes well. Of course, demonic bastards are nothing special, but they successfully make up for quality with quantity. Not bad idea, if you ask Dante. Helps to fire up some interest. Chasing his game in the forest thickets, he feels the satisfaction of a professional hunter. Although at some point he is stuck with an existential question: if he is the one who sniffs out prey and the one who kills it, does this make him more of a hunting dog then a hunter?

(Ok, ok. This was terrible. But the devil may have his fan, doesn’t he?)

He finally gets the chance to see Nero in action, and the kid is great, just like Dante expected. His mechanical sword (and Dante would rather eat his tongue than admit it openly, this thing is cooler than some of his Devil Arms. Some. Few.) is still too big and heavy for his age, but the kid handles it with a skill that shows considerable practice. His movements are brash and fearless, and bear little resemblance to his father's mathematic grace. Dante quietly wonders how Vergil allowed such blasphemy to come. Perhaps, Nero's character proved to be an too tough nut to crack even for the twin's snob ego to crack. Firing several shots into the muzzle of demonic scum, Dante cackles: he adores his nephew, and this adoration only intensifies when Dante imagines every aneurysm that the kid caused to his unfortunate dad.

But then the Red Queen gets stuck between the shell plates of one of the demons. With some overload of the engine it could probably be freed, however Nero decides not to risk it. Obviously, psychologic trauma of months of repair is still here. Instead, with a graceful movement, as natural as if he was born with it, the he summons Yamato.

It's good that at this point Dante has already dealt with his share of the demons, because he can take his time standing with his mouth open. And it's not even about the ghostly demonic figure hanging behind the boy. It's about way he moves. It’s still a little off - too jerky, too brash - but that's without a doubt Vergil's fighting style. The same techniques, the same summoned swords, the same impossibly quick slashes that cut through everything in their path, regardless of whether the target is close or far. All the graceful, deadly power that Dante was target of that night on Temen-Ni-Gru, and that he had replayed over and over again in his mind afterward. It's almost surreal to see her here in the middle of the day, in the midst of an almost friendly demon slaying.

Nero, fortunately, does not notice his shock. By the time he cuts the last demonic scum into two neat halves, Dante manages to manages to lift his jaw off the ground. It wouldn’t do good to ruin his ‘cool uncle’ image so quickly.

A short gesture - and Yamato is absorbed by the demonic hand in a blue flash. Nero raises the Red Queen, and they go in search of the next pack of demons. They fight until deep into the evening. The Order of the Sword should be grateful - Dante and Nero cleaned up probably half of their problems. But before Dante has time to approach the nearest knight and demand payment, Nero drags him to the port. Luck is on their side, and they manage to jump on the ferry at the last minute (which almost made the captain's eyes pop out his head. The poor guy is probably not used to people who are able to overcome three meters in one jump).

After everything is discussed and settled they get a small cabin at their disposal. And, after a scarce dinner, Nero cracks.

Sitting on a narrow bunk in their cabin, the kid lowers his head and starts talking. Yamato lies on his lap, and the fingers of the demonic hand fidget with the golden ribbons. Dante listens without interrupting. He already knew some parts of what Nero says. Other parts - suspected. And other parts comes as a complete surprise to him.

Vergil, of course, appeared in Fortuna because of stories about Sparda. Poor dude just couldn’t take a step without chasing after their dad’s shadows. But Fortuna (and, probably, the power of adolescence and suppressed hormones) had more to offer to him than piles of dusty books. In search of information, Vergil met a local librarian. Their acquaintance, started with purely pragmatic considerations at the beginning, gradually became more... intimate, at least for a fleeting period of time before an unavoidable parting. At this point, Nero trails off and, pink as roses, hurries on to the next part of the story. The corner of Dante’s mouth twitches up but he stays silent. It’s not the time and the place and probably even not the right person. The one Dante would love to torment for juicy details isn’t here and he probably never will be.

After the Temen-Ni-Gru fiasco, Vergil did not return to Fortuna immediately. In fact, he wandered around the world for another year before found himself on the island for some reason. And there he met his contact again - and with her, a big news, in form of a white-haired toddler.

At this point, Dante doesn’t manage to restrain himself and snorts. He laments that he would give a lot to see Vergil' face at that moment. Nero squints at him and, after a pause, says in a deadpan tone:

"I remember it even now.”

It takes several minutes for Dante to pull himself together from laughing. Boy, he needed this. Honestly, he would give up on his prized collection of magazines for the chance to just sit here and listen to the stories about his twin being an idiot!

But then Nero continues the story, and there is little room for laughter left in it.

Whatever went through Vergil's head at the sight of his not-quite-ex and mini-him, he stayed in Fortuna. They settled on the outskirts of the city, away from prying eyes. The locals, with the exception of one couple, did not much favor their family, but did not touch them either. The Order of the Sword, on the other hand… at some point they become a little too problematic. However, during the series of completely unrelated events, the Order was engulfed in the inner turmoil, due to which two Sanctuses were replaced and some morals were reestablished. In the end, Vergil’s family was left alone.

(It was Credo who told him about this, Nero added after a pause. Vergil himself did not like to share much about the events of that time)

Their not quite simple, but normal life in Fortuna lasted three years. Then, overnight, everything changed.

Nero doesn't recount these events in details. But Dante doesn't need them. Closing his eyes, he can see it just before him - a house on fire, the screeches of demons, a female figure lying like a broken doll in a pool of blood. The same picture, cruelly replicated fifteen years later after the first. The only difference is that this time only one of the twins witnessed it, while the other was happily spending his time and money in the "Love Planet" treating himself after lucky gigs.

"Foolishness, Dante. Foolishness," a deep, nasal voice whispers to him. "Without power, you can't protect anything."

Force Edge still hangs in his office, in a place of honor behind his chair. Dante didn't let Vergil take it. After all, who would entrust such a powerful weapon to the power-obsessed bastard who has no regards for human life? Who knows what idiotic purpose he will decide to use it for?..

Dante's nails cut into the skin so hard that drops of blood fall on the floorboards. Nero doesn't notice.

"Since that day my arm has changed," he says almost casually and continues the story.

After that, they were constantly on the move. From place to place without staying in any city for more than a couple of months. Fortuna remained the only somewhat stable point on their path. Nero wasn't sure why. Perhaps Vergil never managed to completely leave behind the place that became the home of his family. Perhaps he did not want to deprive Nero of it. In any case, from time to time they continued to visit the city, usually going to friends of Nero's mother. The children of this family - the forementioned Credo and Kyrie - remained few of the constant figures in his life.

Here Nero stops and, after short hesitation, adds:

"Actually, when we met, I was on my way to Fortuna."

Dante raises an eyebrow.

"What, you decided not to heed the words of your dear daddy and go to your beloved uncle?"

"After the description he gave to you?" Nero snorts. "No way! Only a moron would agree to go to ‘a lazy, incompetent, pizza-obsessed idiot who has no idea about self-control, acceptable behavior and responsibility...’"

"Ouch" Dante hopes that, regardless on which plane of the universe Virgil resides, he sneezes like crazy now. Because until Dante raises another hellish dark tower in the middle of the city, he will continue to consider himself the responsible twin, thank you very much. "So we ran into each other purely by chance? Okay, I guess that mission was worth something after all."

"I... tried to look for him. After he... after I was left alone. I looked around the forest…"

"Ah." Dante tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible. "And how? Found anything?"

Without taking his eyes off Yamato, Nero shakes his head.

"Only ashes and dried blood."

"Disappeared, then. Sounds like him. The last time he decided to go AWOL on me, it took him fourteen years, and in the end he sent a little kid instead of himself." Dante rubs his forehead with his palm and squints at the Nero. "Cheep up, kid! You’ll see, in another dozen years he will show up, maybe even with new relative in tow. Do you want a brother or sister?"

Nero snorts.

"Very funny," he grumbles. Dante shrugs.

"Funny or not, this is the truth of life. Well, until he decides to show his sorry hide again, you’re stuck with me. So we have a plenty of time to prepare a suitable greeting for him. Hm… Maybe we can record our duet performing "Hey, asshole!" and put it as melody for my Jukebox?"

Nero freezes. He sits like this for a very long time without taking his eyes off Yamato, and then raises his eyes. Very slowly, his lips curl up a little.

"Make sure that it sill have a violin arrangement."

Dante answers with his most radiant smile. And then, after finally working up his nerve, he reaches out and quickly ruffles the kid's hair.

"Exactly."

Nero snorts again, but his expression is a little more relaxed now. Dante hopes it stays that way.

‘Verge. I don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive myself. I can understand why you decided not to trust me with Nero’s existence until now. I will even understand if one day you really will show in the doors of my shop demanding for your kid and Yamato. Actually, I even hope that you will do that, just to see how the kid drop-kicks you in the face.

But… if… if the grandiose return isn’t really on your schedule right now… Then… Rest, brother. Rest peacefully. I'll look after him. You know, I may be an idiot. But I swear it: there is no chance that I will let the kid down.’

…To be continued.

Some explanations, rambling and headcanons:

1. I. Need. More. POWER! …or, actually, I need to expand my vocabulary. While I finally can read the story I didn’t found among other DMC fanfiction and see my headcanons come to life, it doesn’t quite come out the way I want it to be. From my point of view, it isn’t bad, but... it could be better. Writing in English is hard and too often I feel myself handcuffed – these is so many things I would wanted to say but too often I can’t find THE right word and expression. Damn.

In any case, if you find mistakes/feel that some parts could be phrased better, can you let me know?

Also, your commentaries are the MOTIVATION itself. Thank you for your praises of the first chapter!

2. There were no way that I will leave Nero without Kyrie. They are just too cute together, though Kyrie probably will have even less of screentime here than in DMC5..

3. Yeah, I’m wish only happiness to my favorite characters… That’s why for this fic I added to Vergil’s canonic trauma a new level… Well, he at least he has Nero… had. Well, authors of "hurt-comfort" fics always are kind, especially, you know, to their favorite characters.

4. Canonically, parents of Kyrie and Credo were killed by failed subjects of Ascension ceremony. But here Vergil from the very beginning made sure that this shit won’t go farther, so I can let them live, yeah! I feel that this fic has enough angst already, so there is no point to kill them too.

#dmc fandom #dmc #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry #Dante #nero #Vergil #dante sparda #nero sparda #vergil sparda

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aspl1tl1fe · 2 years

Photo

Last week I mentioned I got tired of being in create-a-sim and that was why I had no pictures of the two other seasonal vacationers added to my Farming Town vacation series. Months back, I also mentioned that as Conquer is the only sim in his household I’ve given him like all of the outfits, LIKE ALL OF THEM, lol. So basically, while I don’t have new sim shots, I do have plenty CAS shots of Conquer, so why not share more outfit favs!

So this post is a little bit of a mash up. First, these are three variations of outwear I made for Conquer. In game I pretend the last picture is everyday wear, though, because I ran out of spots in all of the other categories except sleepwear. The first picture is the original outerwear outfit I created when I did Conquer’s initial vacation wardrobe. As summer in Isla Paradiso is too hot for leather, he hasn’t really gotten much use out of it. The next two images are recent wardrobe additions I made once it got cool enough to put on a coat.

Why did I do this?

Well, As I noted here, I am detail obsessed (which might be the result of my OCD). I tend to make my outerwear look like my sim has simply put a coat on over one of their everyday outfits like a real person would. Strangely enough, working to make that last image match the other two (I’ve since edited the first image to make sure the pattern on the shirts match) made this relatively plan look one of my favorite outfits.

Special thanks to @aisquaredchoco for helping me locate Yesod-sims’ conversion of @darte77‘s biker jacket. I was looking for that link to make these outfit variations... Now if I could just find a way to have a vehicle with a surfboard on it that lets me Recolor THe SURFBOARDS!!!!

#Ts3 #FarmTown #ts3gamplay #TS3gameSetup #ts3 gameplay #TheSims3 #TheSims #black sims #Simprofiles #TropicalVacation

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 13: On Your Left

Summary: Steve and Katie meet a new friend whilst out jogging, and Steve is sent on a mission to rescue a ship- the Lemurian Star…but it fast becomes apparent that not everyone on his team is pulling in the same direction.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: We jump forward a couple of months here and slip straight into the Winter Soldier storyline. Credit to @angrybirdcr for another lovely edit, and this re-post contains additional materiel- I’ve written the mission out instead of merely skipping over it.

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

Chapter 12 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

End of March/Beginning of April 2014

“Turn it off,” Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into as the alarm rang around the dark bedroom. Steve moved slightly to turn it off, but he wasn’t fast enough for his Girlfriend’s liking. “Steve!”

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” She grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here.” Steve teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for five days, I never sleep as well when you’re not here.” She mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you.” His arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk.” She grumbled. “I mean what time is it anyway?” There was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions…” “Big girl? You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah, you’re huge.” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous.”

“Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time.”

“Stop being a fucking brat!” Steve laughed and she huffed out breath again.

“I’m not being a brat, it’s just a stupid time to be getting up.”

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her.

Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“Okay, if you want to actually get up now…” She muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it. “I suggest you stop.” “I hit the snooze button.” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about eight minutes left.”

“Eight minutes? You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Katie replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Steve said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth.

“Easy, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth returning to her neck.

Four minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, two shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his best time by a full sixty seconds. And sixty seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another sixty minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie half an hour minutes to locate her running shoes which she’d eventually found in her car. Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy.

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the seven blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“Six.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “That’s like what? Twenty miles?”

“Nearer twenty-two.” He grinned. “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” “You bitch like a 14 year old girl.” Katie lamented, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring three times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She’d given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi.” A voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!” Katie smiled.

“You normally run this early?” He asked “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” She smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Sam Wilson.”

She took it and gave it a shake. “Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an “On your left.” as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

“I never tire of looking at these.” She commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. “On your left.”

“On your left.”

“Uh-huh. On my left. I got it.” Sam called after him as he entered his fifth lap.

Katie didn’t even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam’s face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!” Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

“Are you alright?” Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

“Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…” Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

“Need a medic?” he teased.

“I need a new set of lungs.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start.” He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He scolded jokingly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

“What unit were you with?” Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

“Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.” He said motioning for help up.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

“I kind of put that together.” Sam said as he tried to catch his balance. “Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help.” He smiled, looking at Katie who grinned back. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It’s your bed right?” Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. “What’s that?”

“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam went on to explain. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I’m back home, in my own bed, feels like-”

Steve cut him off. “Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?” He asked Sam

“Two tours.” Sam responded. “You must miss the good old days huh?”

“Well, things aren’t so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that’s good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand. “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna’ catch up.”

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. “Marvin Gaye, 1972, ‘Troubleman’ soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.”

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, “I’ll put it on the list.”

“We can download it later.” Katie offered. Steve smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)’

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

“Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that’s what you wanna call running.” He joked extending his hand.

“Oh that’s how it is?” Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

“That’s how it is.” Steve responded, laughing slightly.

“Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

“Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

“That’s hilarious.” He commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Be careful.” She instructed as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

“How you doing?” Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

“Hey.” She responded with a small smile.

“Can’t run everywhere.” Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

“No you can’t.” Sam chuckled and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” He teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

Sam insisted on paying, despite Katie’s protests and they took their coffees over to a bench, sitting down in the early morning sun. As they talked, Katie fast realised she really liked this man, and he was pretty damned interesting too. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing they had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone eight. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year.

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn’t too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

“The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star.” Rumlow spoke, moving images along a screen as they all stood watching as the jet flew over the Indian ocean. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asked.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” Steve asked, frowning. That wasn’t so much steep as fucking vertical.

“Because it SHIELD’s.” Rumlow replied and Steve took a deep breath.

“So it’s not off-course, its trespassing.” He said exasperatedly, turning to his left and looking at Natasha.

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” She met his eyes, her face not faltering for a second.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she looked back at the screen.

“Relax.” She drawled. “It’s not that complicated”

“How many pirates?” Steve looked back at Rumlow.

“Twenty-five.” he replied, once more swiping at the screen. “Top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc” he pulled up a photo of Batroc on the monitor. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”

“Hostages?” Steve pressed.

“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow flashed up Sitwell’s photo and Steve shifted slightly “They’re in the galley.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” He queried, an air of frustration in his tone as he pulled on his gloves before he took a breath and issued his instructions without waiting for an answer. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep up after, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow nodded to his team and they all began to bustle around the jet.

Steve moved towards the back, checking his ear piece, raising his wrist communicator to his mouth. “Secure channel seven.”

“Seven secure.” Nat picked up a few more bits of equipment from the shelves, passing a coms device to Evans as Steve walked behind her to the ramp. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, seeing as all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, I had to settle for a movie and pizza with my girl.” He shrugged as he fit his ear piece, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Natasha grinned and Evans gave a chuckle as the pilot spoke into his ear. “Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.”

Steve punched the button to lower the ramp before he grabbed his helmet.

“You know, I think it’s cute. You’re like a regular, normal couple.” Evans said, and Steve turned to him as he fastened the straps on his helmet.

“That’s because we are normal.” He replied, a little louder as the noise of the air blowing through the ramp surrounded them. Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto his back, the irony of his statement making him smile even more as he walked towards the end of the ramp.

“Yeah, because most people do this type of stuff for a living.” Natasha shot after him and he turned to face her, smirking.

“Well, at least it doesn’t get boring.” He grinned, before he threw himself off the jet.

“Was he wearing a parachute?” Rollins turned to Rumlow who gave a huff of a smile.

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

Steve held his arms and hands out to the side of himself as he was free falling through the air, before he shifted, straightening his legs out below him and crossing his arms over his chest. He speared straight into the ice cold water below and, after a moment to adjust, he started swimming toward the ship, using the anchor chain to climb up onto the deck. He dropped silently over the railings and grabbed the guard who had walked past seconds before in a choke hold, rendering him unconscious as noiselessly as he could. Then he set off at a sprint and it wasn’t long before he encountered two more of the pirates. Using his shield he hit the first one and took him down then sent the vibranium weapon flying once more where it ricocheted off the hull of the boat and took down the second. He caught it and continued running around the side of the deck where he encountered another three. The first one he dispatched with a harsh kick, taking the others down with a quick leg swipe and a harsh punch to the face. The next one he saw wasn’t looking so Steve sped up and used his momentum to shoulder barge him over the side of the ship, before he launched at the next one, taking him down with a swinging choke hold. The one after had a knife, which was slightly more inconvenient, but Steve managed to disarm him and used the dagger he now had possession of to pin one of the other guards hands to the wall as he was reaching up to hit the alarm button, before knocking him out with a kick to the head.

That was how it went for the most of it. Steve ran the entire deck, taking everyone down using his shield, arms, legs, body, any means he had before anyone could raise the alarm. And he was almost home and dry, until he dispatched of what he thought was the final merc, until as he caught his shield, he heard the click of a gun right behind his head.

“Bouge pas!” The man spoke and Steve tilted his head slightly to glance at the man in his peripheral, understanding the words to mean don’t move. So he didn’t, especially not as he had just spotted Rumlow drifting down towards the deck. The STRIKE leader shot at the pirate, taking him down and landed a few feet away.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded to him.

“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” Rumlow joked and Steve turned to see Natasha and Evans parachute down onto the deck to join them.

“So you know you said before about things not getting boring?” Natasha asked as they strode across the deck, Steve slinging his shield onto his back. “If you ever need any tips on how to keep it from getting boring in the bedroom, just ask.”

Steve shook his head and let out a groan.

“When you gonna ask her to move in with you?” Nat continued.

“Secure the engine room, then we can talk about my sex life and living arrangements.” Steve deadpanned back

“I’m multitasking” Nat sing-songed as she effortlessly hopped over a set of railings, disappearing onto the lower part of the deck.

Steve set off at a run, vaulting up a few steps, using railings to swing himself onto the higher level of the ship before he stopped just below the bridge, shooting one of Lawson’s listening devices at the windows. He listened in as Batroc instructed his men to fire the engines and then Steve retreated to a spot where he could see Batroc clearly through the window of the control bridge. Crouching down he continued to listen into their conversation, easily able to understand the French they were speaking, one of his many skills picked up in the war. It had come easy post the serum, as with everything it had enhanced his ability to memorise and grasp things like that.

Batroc was being informed by one of his officers about the radio silence from SHIELD and Steve watched carefully before Evans’ voice cut across the jabbers of French.

“Targets acquired”

“STRIKE in position” Rumlow replied.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” Steve whispered into his wrist coms, but there was no reply. “Status, Natasha?”

“Hang on!” She said loudly, and Steve waited as he heard a bit of a struggle before she spoke again twenty or so seconds later. “Engine room secure.”

That was it, they were clear to engage.

“On my mark” Steve whispered “Three. Two. One.”

With that he set off running towards the bridge, leaping up a small set off steps before he flung his shield through the window. He jumped in after it and Batroc caught him with a kick to the chest before sprinting off and kicking his way out of the door. Steve jumped up, wrenched his shield from where it had been wedged in the metal panels at the back of the control room and ran after him.

“Hostages on route to extraction.” Rumlow informed as Steve emerged onto the end of a set of steps. “Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap.” The STRIKE leader continued as Steve jumped down onto the main area of the deck. “Hostiles are still in play.”

Steve looked around before he turned on his heels and started walking “Natasha, Batroc’s on the move.” He instructed quietly into his coms. “Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.”

There was no reply, and Steve was starting to get pissed off at her radio silence.

“Natasha!”

But then, out of nowhere Batroc flew at him with another harsh kick which sent Steve flying, and no sooner had he righted himself, there came another. The two engaged, toe to toe, fists flying, legs kicking, arms blocking and Steve had to hand it to Batroc, even after he knocked him down with his shield, the man was quickly back on his feet. Steve aimed a knee to his gut and flipped him backwards only to see Batroc effortlessly fling himself into several back flips before landing on his feet a short distance away, smirking as he eyed Steve up.

“Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier.” He chuckled slightly and Steve cocked his head to one side, chewing over the man’s words… I thought that you were more than just a shield.

The arrogance in Steve won out and he straightened up out of his attack stance. You wanna go, fucker? Fine. Let’s dance.

He took a breath, stashing his shield on the harness round his back, and undid his chin strap, pulling his helmet off. “On va voir.” He said simply, tossing it to the floor, his eyes not once leaving Batroc’s who gave a huge grin.

They dodged for a second or two before they began to fight once more, trading punches, kicks and a few more knees to the gut before Steve threw himself up into the air, twirling his body round into a huge over-head kick, connecting his boot straight with Batroc’s head. Batroc fell to the floor and soon staggered back to his feet, but Steve didn’t give him chance to recover properly. He ran at him, spearing them both through a door, and sitting up slighting, Steve knocked Batroc out with a huge punch to the head.

He took a moment to draw his breath when a voice rang out across the room.

“Well, this is awkward.”

He looked up to see Natasha smirking at him from where she was bent over a computer.

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded as he rose to his feet.

“Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into.” She retorted.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, happy Batroc was still out cold, before he strode purposefully towards her.

“Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?” He drew up behind her and glanced at the screens. As it registered what she was doing he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re saving SHIELD Intel.”

“Whatever I can get my hands on.” She drawled, still tapping at the computer as she looked at him, before turning back to the screen.

“Our mission is to rescue hostages.” Steve glared at her.

“No. That’s your mission.” Natasha corrected as she finished what she was doing and pulled the pen drive out of the slot. She turned towards him and smiled causing Steve’s anger to bubble even more. “And you’ve done it beautifully.” Her tone was almost patronising as she smirked, moving to pass him.

At that, Steve felt his temper snap and he grabbed her arm stopping her in her tracks. “You just jeopardized this whole operation.”

“I think that’s overstating things.” Natasha stated calmly but before Steve had time to reply a movement caught his attention. Batroc stood up and threw a grenade at the two of them as he ran off. Steve deflected the bomb with his shield before he grabbed Natasha round the waist and hopped up onto the desks. Jumping to another one, Natasha shot out one of the glass windows into an internal office and they dived in just as the bomb exploded.

Smoke, ash and debris rained down on them and Steve gave it a second before he looked over his shoulder and out before sitting back down to take a moment. He was beyond pissed off. Pissed at Natasha and pissed at Fury for not bothering to tell him the full story.

“Okay. That one’s on me.” Natasha breathed out.

“You’re damn right.” Steve grit his teeth and pushed himself up, storming out in anger. Of course, Batroc was nowhere to be found.

**** Steve was that angry about the cluster-fuck of a mission that he didn’t speak a word to Natasha all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on. Once back at base he stormed off the jet, ignoring pretty much everyone and simply barking out that they would debrief in the morning.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn’t too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his.

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since he’d left the Lemurian Star and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment three at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs tucked underneath her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” He asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “Not at all.” He smiled, turning away as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She replied as he walked back into the lounge. “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview the youngest Stark prodigee. She had declined all of them until the board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d actually kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” She smiled as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?”

He nodded.

“So how did you do it this time?”

“I got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” He grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” She shrugged stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner.”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water cascading from the shower and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly, he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the water and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of loose sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” She asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS.“

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite bread. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.”

“Behave.” He admonished, giving her a look. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he stored the bottle of Arnica gel she insisted he keep to hand. As he ate, she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side. The bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered.”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was running a separate mission, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done.”

“Fury?”

He nodded.

“More secrets” Katie sighed, feeling a flash of anger. “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” He dropped the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but, Doll, how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” Katie spoke softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” She reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin. “She has a job to do, same as you. Its Fury you should be talking to about it.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve snorted. “I’m going to go see him tomorrow morning after de-brief…”

“Well, at least you’ll get an explanation. I mean it might not be what you wanna hear but…”

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind, Steve concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down before she stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want any more to eat?” She asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Okay, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” He said, standing up “And that’s an order.”

“Bossy bastard” She retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Okay, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long.” He smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, crossed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind Katie. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded.

He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” Katie sighed, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot, “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” Steve practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that.” She replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced his fingers over her hip, hand flattening as it crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching whilst his lips continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve.” She moaned softly, her tone pleading. “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Please Stevie.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her, pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He moved slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands wrapped around hers, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her completely. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her, “That’s it baby girl…” lips soft on her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” She whispered softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much, Sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest and his arm curled round her, large hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” She asked gently, hand rubbing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half nine.” He gave a sated yawn.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” She muttered through a yawn of her own.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife.” He grinned, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget his worries.

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” She whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck as he’d done his usual koala impression. As gently as she could, she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be twenty-five past seven, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could.

Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, Steve didn’t stir when Katie returned following her shower and was still out of it when she finished dressing so she unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made the previous day into the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about eight-fifteen, there was still no sign of Steve so Katie headed through to the bedroom to wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey.” That soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost eight-fifteen.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” She said with a tone so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “There’s coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” He rolled over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” She teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you, Doll.” he murmured with a smile. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past four months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on. It was almost normal, what people with mundane nine to five jobs did. And he realised he wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there contemplating it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

When he headed through, Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear.

“I know!” Her tone was one of utter excitement. “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York and as he looked at it, he felt his mouth drop open. His girl was stood against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot raised back against the flat surface behind her, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, with a low cut white blouse underneath.

“Yeah, I know Tony.” She continued speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart, elbows resting on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just twenty-nine she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after thirty seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first three months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over fifty-percent first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us with a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

“We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?”

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” She replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly, she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus.”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was the shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala as they danced. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen.

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony. He brought me up from the age of seven, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal, but once he realised we were serious, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

“Do they get on?” At that she laughed. “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s six and, even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last two years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends time in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think it’s fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up. Are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” She smiled, rubbing her nose against his.

“I know baby.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” She informed him as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” He smiled. “And maybe we can do something this afternoon?”

“Sounds perfect”

***** Chapter 14

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #katie star #chris evans #chris evans characters

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thelivebookproject · 4 years

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Talking Books With @elenajohansenreads!

[What is this and how can I participate?]

Happy (almost) last day of Bookoween, everyone!

Today we discuss scary TBRs, disappointing books, and book clubs. Grab your pointy hats, your pumpkin whatever, and your pet frog, and enjoy!

Important note: I haven’t changed or edited any of the answers. I’ve only formatted the book titles so they were clearer, but nothing else. Because I’m incapable of shutting up, my comments are between brackets and in italics, so you can distinguish them clearly.

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[Image description: a square titled “Know the blogger”. Name & pronouns: Elena, she/her; country: United States; three adjectives to describe her: romantic, anxious & determined /end]

1. What is a book you related to, for whatever reason?

The book that comes to mind first is The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss. I already loved Auri as a minor character in the main series, but getting her story deepened my connection. She's generally regarded as having OCD, which I do not, but so much of her resonated with the rituals I've constructed to cope with my anxiety. Even if the root causes don't match, she expressed so much of what my mind goes through every day that I felt seen.

2. Last translation you've read?

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.

3. Does your TBR scare you or is it manageable?

It's nuts and I never should have let it get this far. I overindulged in used book sales several years ago, to the point where I sometimes had as many as 200 unread physical books lying around at any given time, with nearly as many ebooks as well, at my worst. Through a combination of prioritizing my own books over library borrows/new purchases, and by actively pruning my TBR a little bit at a time once a month, I've reined that in, but I still have just over 100 physical books and 120 ebooks still owned and unread. My goal for 2020 is to get through all the remaining books I acquired in 2017; I've got around 40 to go. I'm doing better this year not buying too much; I've only added 17 books to my collection. So I will catch up, eventually.

[I am anxious just imagining all that. Good luck, you’ll need it!]

4. Any "hot takes" on a booklr favourite book?

More than I can count. This year I was disappointed with In Other Lands (whiny bullying protagonist not worthy of my sympathy) and The Bone Witch (I like the idea of what it wanted to be but utterly failed to accomplish while giving me a constant fashion show and a weak love triangle..) Last year, it was The Poppy War (watch this provincial girl with super-special-snowflake syndrome become a war criminal) and Ice Massacre (so full of plot holes and faulty world-building I can't condense it enough to explain here.) If I go farther back I'm sure I can find more, but I have a spotty history with enjoying booklr faves, especially if they're YA. Which is not a slag on the genre as a whole, I love plenty of YA books, just not some of the most popular ones, apparently.

[Oooof no! I’ve never read any of these, but have definitely seen them recommended around. It’s so frustrating wanting to like something because everybody does but then it’s not worth the hype! It happens to me a lot too :(]

5. Who is an auto-read author for you?

I don't know that I have a truly auto-read author at the moment. I've had them in the past, but I just finished writing a book review for a lackluster effort by one of those authors I would have once considered an auto-read, who has consistently been disappointing me ever since I stepped outside of the first (and most famous) series I read of hers. I definitely have favorite authors, and authors that I generally trust to put out solid work consistently, but I can't say I'd read anything they write no matter what.

Free space to say/add/recommend anything!

I'd like to recommend the newest book club I've joined, "Hot Single Books Looking for Readers." ( @hotsinglebooks ) Its aim is to support independent authors by reading, discussing, and promoting their books. We're only in our second month together but I've found the community friendly and engaging, the book discussions lively and thoughtful, and the book selection process itself as democratic as reasonably possible.

[”Second month” no longer! Now they’re almost at their fifth, I’d say! It definitely looks like a fantastic book club, I’ll check it out when I have some free time]

You can follow her at @elenajohansenreads and on her Wordpress blog.

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Thank you, Elena! This was a fantastic chat.

Next interview: Wednesday, 4th of November

#talking books with #bookoween #booklr #october 2020 #thelivebookproject

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kazuwhora · 3 years

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hi i'm kei and i'm 23 yr old and a she. i'm a gemini, an INFJ personality and my enneagram results is me being a deep person??? (idk how to read enneagram yet 😭)

im a bit shy around people and even friends and family that a lot of them mistakes it as me being "maldita or snobby" i only talk when i want and if im comfortable with the person or people. my love language are, maybe grocery shopping and late night talks with cheetos and the stars or just cuddling while watching animes or reading law books

i'm a bit chubby with brownish hair and eyes, 166 cm and 49 kg with a bunny style teeth.

i'm looking for a partner, someone who's not afraid to correct my mistakes, loves to read books or watch any shows, a little pervert but a softie one that can't cook but will cook for just for u and understanding of my traumas. i hate partners who's past always ghosts him like a chirstmas past and i also hate it if he don't study and do his best in anything that he's good at be it at sports or academics. and lastly i hate it if he dont know how to do laundry and messy 😭 i mean l lived my entire

in a dorm and i do my own chores anf everything is never messy so i hope he's not as messy as anyone since i'm little bit OCD

can you write the match up in fluffy yet kinky nsfw??? please???

that's all 😍💗

p.s: this is the edited and final one thanks muchooooooo 💗💗💗

hi hi hehe! just bc of how many requests I have (plus my assignments) im just gonna do sfw for now but feel free when my requests open again to request more stuff!!!

honestly I think you and baji would make a rly good match

baji ticks off a lot of your boxes in what you're looking for in a partner tbh. he's DEF not afraid to correct your mistakes or put you in your place, he's a softie for the one he loves, his past struggles don't define or trouble him, and he might not be GOOD at academics but he sure tries 😌

I don't want to say that baji is messy, because it's not that he's messy. I think his mom would have yelled at him too many times for being messy. but he does much prefer someone else to do the work for him. he'll probably give you a really sweet look hoping for you to pick up the slack for him.

personality wise, I think the two of you have a nice harmony. as an INFJ you're pretty adaptable when it comes to working well with others. but with baji it isn't really something you have to worry about. he blends really well with your socialization methods, and honestly is probably pretty protective of your emotions too. like nobody is allowed to make u sad but him.

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esculentevil · 3 years

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JSEgo (Shipping) Headcanon (8): Terms of Endearment

((Inspired by @a-septic-mind’s Cute Gender Neutral Things to Call Your Significant Other post. Just wanted to brainstorm and list the pet names I think the Septics would use for each other. This is also being compiled as a reference for my future works, both ego shipping and not. =D))

Anti

calls Jackie “Láech” [only privately tho because it means Hero in Old Irish (sidenote: Anti usually uses the English translation, which comes out like ‘Ero, because my Jackie’s American and barely knows Irish, never mind Old Irish) and that’s embarrassing as balls to be caught saying out loud; in public, he uses Hero Boy because it’s easy to make it sound teasing, like a jab, or even crude; EDIT (because I’m dumb and forgot about this): sometimes Anti calls him He’rt, which is his accented way of saying “heart” and comes from that fact that one of the most popular terms of endearment in the Irish language is “mo chroí” which means “my heart”—and also the fact that it kinda looks like the word hero… ;3]

calls Jameson “Whiskey” [I explain this fully in Canti Cong (A Canti Script) but, basically, Anti calls Jameson this because of Jameson the Whiskey and because it lets him make the joke “Com’ere, lemme get drunk off ye!” lmao]

calls Chase “Teardrop” [for all the tears shed during Chase’s chronic depression, suicide attempt, and recovery period—a reminder that even Anti cried for him]

calls Henrik “Needle” [after how much he gets under people’s skin, even Anti’s; how many times he’s stitch them all up, including Anti’s forever neck wound; and h͜ow ̶per҉fec̕t̴l̸y ̧A͢nti’̛s͏ str͏ing̶s ̨were ͏ab̴l̸e̛ t͟o͘ thre͝a͡d̡ ͢th̷rouģh̛ ͟H͢e̸n͡rìk̴’s ͟fr̸a̶gi͘l̵e̕ ̢m̢i͘nd͢~̶]

calls Marvin “Cat C*nt” [it’s loving, I swear xD]

Jackie

calls Anti “Gorgeous” [this has been an ongoing thing since First Vibrations (although, the first time I called Anti “Gorgeous” in general was in Fowl Glitch), but never actually explained; so: I literally just do this because I think it’s sweet, it’s very similar to what my Mate calls me, and it’s a compliment starting with G! (this is important because Glitch starts with G and I’m OCD so they must match I’m soft for the idea that, although Anti takes great pride in being a Glitch, sometimes he’s hyperaware of how that might make him unattractive—constantly falling/breaking apart, being unstable to the point of disintegrating, etc—so, when Jackie rolls both words together... Gorgeous Glitch just kills him~)]

calls Jameson “Sheik” [which is actually a pun told in three parts! First, according to Flapperspeak: Dictionary of Words From the 1920’s and 1930’s, Sheik defines “A man with sex appeal (from the Valentino movies)” >=3; second, Sheik comes from the Arabic word for “Elder” and commonly refers to a leader; and, third, Sheik is a disguise used by Zelda in Ocarina of Time which I think JJ would have loved about her character and Jackie thinks relates to JJ’s Jaunts]

calls Chase “Switchel” [after the whiskey chaser of the same name made of vinegar, syrup, and ginger served in Brooklyn (because my Jackie’s a Yank)]

calls Henrik "Watson" [this is a reference to my Septic Holmes AU where Jackie is Sherlock and Henrik is Watson mainly because just “doctor/doc” is too plain but also because I generally see their relationship as constant help and support as in they can always rely on each other both in terms of heroics and medics but also in terms of friendship and general understanding (like if Jackie can’t make heads or tails of some coded message Anti left behind to flirt mess with him, Henrik can because it’s a chemical formula etc.; and if Henrik can’t understand why he, say, pissed off someone because he’s a touch emotionally stunted... xD) also, low key, this was going to be Iron Man until I realized that wouldn’t work!]

calls Marvin "MJ" [as in Marvel's MJ/Mary Jane(/Michelle Jones for the movies) because Jackie likes to think he's this world's version of Spider-Man xD;;;]

Jameson

calls Anti “Master” [because puppet play is THE thing with them, no matter what]

calls Jackie “Bo” [covered this during Inktober but that was a pandemic ago so: According to Al Capone’s 1920 Slang Dictionary, Bo means “Pal, buster, fellow.” and is also, obviously, (usually, not in all AUs) part of his name: Jackieboy-Man]

calls Chase “Daylight” [in a continuation of Jameson’s shockingly dark humor, this means “"fill him with daylight": Put a hole in, by shooting or stabbing” which, clearly, is a horribly dark reference to Chase’s suicidal self-shooting tendency; but, of course, it can also be taken as a variation of the much sweeter Sunshine]

calls Henrik “Croaker” [which Al Capone’s Dictionary says means “Doctor”; however, this is also an unintentionally dark pun because to croak is to die but also a choked sound people make as they die by strangulation or similar things and Henrik literally did both as Anti strangled him with that phone cord...]

calls Marvin “Cat” [as in “cool cat” but also the 1920′s Slang meaning of “Man”] or “Tom” [as in “tomcat” (but it’s only used when Marvin’s flirtations get uncomfy)]

Chase

calls Anti “Monster” [this is affectionate/loving, I SWEAR xD; it’s sort of teasing or even ironic; it’s like Chase is calling Anti his adorable sweet little monster]

calls Jackie “Queen” [after the New York borough Spider-Man’s from]

calls Jameson “Sweetheart” [because JJ’s the sweetest Ego in his eyes; also, there’s an old-timey feel to this endearment because it stems from swete herte (aka 13th century Middle English) and JJ loves history so much he finds it cute]

calls Henrik “Doc” [which sounds like a very boring cop out kinda nickname but is actually a reference to Bugs Bunny’s catch phrase “What’s up, Doc?” (because I have a never before addressed headcanon: Chase loves Bugs and Looney Tunes in general because it helped him through tough times in the 90s and is also the comfort show he shared with his kids when they were little; basically, Bugs Bunny/Looney Tunes is the fav of the Brody House #notspon)]

calls Marvin “Kitten” [I don’t think this needs an explanation. It’s just... obvious.]

Henrik

calls Anti “Eye” [which could be a reference to the “eye” in Antisepticeye, SepticSam (or SepticSuain), the “i” in Anti, or even two “i”s in Antisepticeye; honestly though, this is a reference to crochet and Anti’s nickname for Henrik: the opening/hole of a needle (that you put the thread through) is called the eye, so, in a way, Henrik’s acknowledging Anti’s power over him and his mind, but also pointing out that Anti’s both vulnerable due to the “hole” in him (neckwound) and Anti’s only as powerful as those he’s threaded/strung up/taken control of (because a needle only stabs you; it’s the string that prolongs your suffering)]

calls Jackie “Sherlock” [which is again, a reference to my Septic Holmes AU completely ironic in two ways: first, it’s like he’s calling him and Sherlock heroes; but then, second, he’s saying it with sarcasm like the insult “No Sh*t Sherlock”]

calls Jameson “Java” [in other words: Jameson Java; coffee; another drink joke]

calls Chase “Bugs” [yes: because Chase loves Bugs Bunny (and calls him Doc)]

calls Marvin “Felis” [which is the genus for cats (so yes another cat joke) and the first half of the species name for domesticated cats (which Marvin kinda is xD)]

Marvin

calls Anti “Circles” [partly as a reference to eyes, majorly a reference to my Anti’s agender identity (which is represented by a circle with a line through it; think of Mae’s shirt from NITW!), but mostly just because Anti hates them and Marvin wants to get back at him for this own endearment loves to see him twitch]

calls Jackie “Cap” [in his words: “No, I’m not calling you Spider-Man or Peter; you’re way more like Captain America with your leadership qualities, powers, and general outlook on life—no, stop staring at me like that; idc what you say: YOU ARE LITTERATLLY OUR SEPTIC SUPER SOLDIER!”]

calls Jameson “Ritzy” [this means “Elegant” according to Al Capone’s Dictionary]

calls Chase “Daddy” [because he is one we all know Marvin’d make this joke (however, it’s also in sync with Chase’s rather kinky nickname for him)]

calls Henrik “Vet” [to carry on the Marvin’s legit a cat theme xD; sometimes, however, Marvin switches things up and calls him “veteran” which is a reference to my personal headcanon of Henrik being a war doc like (John Watson was), my Septic Holmes AU, and my Hero’s Harem AU (lots of AU refs, I know xD)]

#antisepticeye #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #chase bro average #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #affectionate names #mywriting #headcanons #explainations #my thoughts #writingreference #ego shipping #morEGOsome #spiderman #sherlock holmes #looneytunes

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lennox-levin-little-lilith-did · 4 years

Text

Hi again people who follow me!

I’m bored and I’ve decided to make fun facts about our DID system and the four known alters!

So before I start- Lilith has a bit of a show today, but the body was too tired for her to start anything. Like I feel asleep as soon as I got to class. The reason I know this is because of my outfit and she decided to put on lip gloss (which I never wear personally). She’s not conscious currently, none of the other three are, and I’ll get to that later!

Oh! And just so you know, this is Lennox.

👋

Let’s start with Levin!

Levin is the alter that co-cons often or will switch with me

He knows a lot about our system, but is very secretive about it so~

He is the only male alter in the system that I know of

He also goes by Levi and Lev

He likes more soft songs and songs with a good message

His favorite color is forest green

He’s the only alter that Lilith does not take her anger out on

He’s an introvert with really bad social anxiety

He hates sexual songs (so of course being me, I put two of the worst sexual songs I know in his playlist, he doesn’t know)

He has insomnia and ptsd

He’s extremely competitive when it comes to card games

He likes educating people on animals and wants to do gigs, like birthday parties and events, to teach people about reptiles and birds specifically

His favorite subject is English

He is white with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He’s thin, well more twig like, but whatever. He’s around 5’8 (two inches taller than the body)

His clothes style is baggy shirts with either baggy sweatpants or leggings. He wear plain colors, like pale blues, grays, and black. He, surprisingly, likes boots, even heeled boots

His favorite anime is... probably Durarara x2 any season

He has no sexual desires, but romantic likes girls

He’s 18

He’s very comfortable singing, he loves it. That a major way he expresses himself

His favorite song is... I think LA Devotee by P!ATD (idk why but that what he likes)

^^ What he likes to wear ^^

Next on our list is

The demon queen herself, LILITH

She is named after Adam’s first wife, the demon queen, Lilith (yes she liked to go church, but we stopped going)

She is a bisexual

She’s ageless (she has no age, or if she does she hasn’t told anyone)

She’s an absolute bitch and she knows it.

She has violent mood swings and anger issues (respectfully so)

She is also an introvert, but not because of anxiety, no it’s because she wants to strangle every single person that looks at her weird

She hates Little with the burning passion

She gets repressed the most because no one wants to be expelled from school

She likes cooking

She hates cleaning because of her ocd

She wants to pursue a culinary job

Her favorite subject is science

She rarely fronts and when she does it’s quick or someone is co-con with her (ex. What happened with aleia-clownery)

Lennox(me) has to clean up her messes as always.

Her favorite anime is... The Promised Neverland (she likes Ray a lot)

She likes aggressive songs, or songs that swear a lot

Lilith has wavy black hair with blue highlights. Her eyes are a brownish red color. She’s short, like 5’2, and likes to wear heels because of it. She’s black as well

Her favorite color is dark royal blue

Her style of clothes is black shirts with skulls on them and tight, but comfortable, pants. She also likes a certain denim dress I have

She likes drawing and doodling ways to kill people and I have to say she’s pretty good

Her favorite song is Sarcasm by Get Scared (very fitting for her)

^^ What she wishes she can wear ^^

Next is Little!

She likes to bake

She enjoys going to restaurants, specifically Asian style ones

She’s loves animals and wants to work with them so bad.

She’s an extrovert with ADHD

Little is Hispanic and on the chunky side. She has a caramel skin tone. She can understand it way better than me (Lennox) and she wants to learn Japanese and French (I’m interested in Japanese so we’re probably going to learn it)

Her favorite subject was College Writing Prep and before that was Language Arts, but the writing part of it. She really likes writing

Her favorite color is... honestly black. She likes that it matches with everything and likes the science of black too

Her favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club (I hate it with the burning passion) her second choice is Black Butler (any season) which we allow her to watch

She likes baking and cooking, tho she prefers baking, she likes the way it calms her, I guess

Her favorite song is Voices in My Head (she listens to a lot of nightcore so I don’t the artist)

I’m not saying much else about her (I don’t want creeps harassing her)

^^ What she prefers to wear ^^

Last, and certainly least, Lennox (aka me!)-

My favorite anime is Kakegurui or... BNA... or BNHA... or Hitorjime My Hero (My Very Own Hero)... or maybe Given? Idk I like a lot of anime...

The first anime I’ve ever watched was Wolf’s Rain. I was seven I think, but it was on YouTube so I didn’t get to watch the whole thing. I recently found it, but I’m afraid to watch it lmao

I like the colors teal and turquoise, as well as blood red and jet black

I like anything P!ATD, Halsey, Imagine Dragons, Fall Out Boys, Set It Off, Alec Benjamin, OneRepublic, and Nico Collins and AJR(granted so does everyone else but 🤷)

My favorite songs are Control by Halsey and Lonely Dance by Set It Off and Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time by P!ATD and River by Ed Sheeran and Eminem and Not Afraid by Eminem and I’m Ready by AJR and Karma by AJR... I can go on for hours, but I’mma stop here

I’m Non-binary and the only gender nonconforming alter. I’m also pansexual

I hate being touched, I hate talking to people that act ignorant, and I hate this body I’m in

I look like the body so no description for you 😝

I have anxiety and depression. Everything else I’ve been diagnosed with can really be related to DID

I’m a neutral party in everything, so when I say I don’t know, I don’t care, whatever, or not my business, I’m literally saying I have no standing or opinion in this

I like cooking, baking, organizing (not cleaning), writing, reading, doodling, and doing self introduced projects for fun

I like plaid clothing, hoodies, and pride shirts. I like sweatpants and sneakers. I also like things on my neck... it keeps me ground I guess

(Oh my god I’m writing this with Ella, right? I told her to stop clawing at the furniture, right? All of a sudden her focus is on the ground and I wiggles my toes, testing if she was looking at my feet, and I started moving them around. I told her, ‘stop looking at my feet.’ This cat, this puta, liked me in the eyes before looking back down and got in position to lunge at my feet. My heart stopped and I pulled my feet onto the couch. And she was going to do it because the moment I moved my feet, she jumped from the top of the couch she’s on... she scares me sometimes 😣)

^^ What I would wear if Lev was a little shit and let me wear pride stuff and jewelry ^^

Now-

Onto how our system works!

Levin and I co-con often. If I’m not in control, then he is

On instances where I get angry, Lilith takes control

Little co-cons with me more than everyone else because she enjoys annoying me

Lilith and Little are both so stubborn and hardheaded, it’s unbelievable. On the other hand, Levs and I are open minded and calm. So we often clash on what we should do as a collective

Lilith is a Christian, Levi and I are atheists, and Little is a Seventh Day Adventist (the religion I grew up with). However Lev and I hold more say, so we don’t go to church

I guess you could say there’s a hierarchy in the system. I have the most important say, then Lev, then Little, and lastly Lilith

Levin and I enjoy co-conning with each other only, anyone else gives us headaches

Everyone loves Nico Collins, Alec Benjamin, Set It Off, and AJR the most

Everyone’s favorite albums are Death of a Bachelor (p!atd), Cinematics (set it off), and American Beauty/American Psycho (fall out boys)

Everyone loves sushi and sushi rolls (California and Philadelphia rolls are the best)

We all really want to try takoyaki and pork Katsudon. When we do try them, I’ll probably make a post about it

We all love Ella and we all want to start a rehabilitation center of all animals and a pet cafe

We love reptiles, like all reptiles, venomous snakes included

I think there are more alters that just aren’t as prominent as the other three, Levin would know but he doesn’t like to discuss our system often

We really want to buy these specific no pierce cuff earrings

Edit: this total slipped my mind- when I’m on my red week (you know what I’m talking about) the others let me deal with it on my own, especially Little and Lev (Lev hates that week and recedes completely)

That’s all I’m willing to share about us (or that I remember)

My part was short because you guys talk to me all the time

Sincerely,

Lennox... with a sprinkle of Levin

I’m tagging some people because why not-

@one-pissed-off-child @liveto-100 @madame-ree @martinidrinkingmartin @anon-nom-nom95 @queenzie-xo @scalybunnypapi69 @gogetyoselfsomesoup (still bitter) @cristinaweeb @aleiakit @aleia-clownery (I’m still so sorry about what happened) @studiesboie @bloomyboithatemoji @pumpkineiji @penelopebakugouburrito1

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rejectofsociety · 4 years

Text

I just thought I would post my BlackCat!MJ x Peter Parker one shot here, it’s also on Ao3. It’s kinda long.

And warning: Major Character Death

Hope you enjoy

Michelle often got the feeling that her boyfriend was hiding something from her. Maybe it was the so-called midnight walks he constantly took, or how he would run off and disappear without a trace whenever a siren went off. Did this concern her? Yes, constantly. Did she have any idea what he was hiding? Absolutely not. The only thing she did know was he wasn't cheating on her. How did she know this? She just did. Peter was loyal and they had been through hell and back together. There was no separating them. Even their jobs took place side-by-side within the Daily Bugle headquarters— Peter as a photographer and Michelle as a editor. Neither made a lot of money, as a result Michelle took on a night job which had provided them with enough money to buy their own home.

Michelle sat with her legs draped over Peter's lap and her arm around his neck as she littered his face with gentle kisses. He would connect their lips anytime hers wandered too close to his as his hand stroked her leg lovingly. They wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even themselves, but they truly needed each other. Every moment they had alone together, they would hold each other close until it was uncomfortable. Then, they'd adjust positions and hold each other a little longer.

"You know I could give you everything," Michelle said as she turned her head away from her boyfriend, "a bigger house, a nicer car, lots of money."

"MJ, you are my everything. I don't need a bigger house or whatever," Peter said as he rested his head on her chest.

"Hm, I just got the taste of cheddar in my mouth," Michelle replied.

"Oh shut up," Peter chuckled as she ran her hands through his hair.

Michelle smiled warmly at him and closed her eyes lightly. She felt him land a tender kiss on her collarbone, making her exhale a joyful sigh.

"Can you go back to kissing me?" Peter requested.

She barked a laugh, "ha! No, I don't think I will."

He looked up at her with pleading eyes, "please?"

"No," She replied and slid off his lap, "I'm hungry."

As she turned to leave, Peter stood up and rested his hand on her waist. He let a mischievous smirk spread across his lips as she lingered in his touch.

"I got something you could eat," Peter offered slyly.

"Ooo," Michelle purred, "I see how you wanna play."

"Only if you're up for it," he hummed.

"Tempting, but I haven't eaten all day."

Peter quickly let go of her and stepped back, "MJ! Please, eat!"

"What's in the fridge or..."

"What's in the fridge," Peter waved her off, earning a laugh in reply.

He shook his head at her then picked his camera off their coffee table. As she fished through the fridge, Peter sat on one of the barstools at the island positioned in the middle of the kitchen. He flipped open his laptop and popped the memory card out of his camera.

Michelle looked over her shoulder at him as he uploaded his photos onto the computer and smiled to herself. He was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to her, considering the fact that she never knew her father and her mother died when she was twelve. Even though she and Peter were hardly friends at the time, he still reached out to her and kept her company, making sure she was never alone unless she needed to be. That's when she realized she liked him. It may have taken a few years for him to return her affections but, when he finally did, it was everything she had hoped for and much more.

She wanted to marry him, she just needed a ring.

As she sat at the barstool next to his with a yogurt cup she had retrieved from the fridge, Michelle looked over Peter's shoulder and watched as he uploaded his photos onto the computer. He scrolled through countless photos of Spiderman, the Winder Soldier, Captain America (or the Falcon, at this point it hardly mattered), and more as he ignored several notifications for emails.

Spending time together never got old. Even when they argued, were too upset to speak, or one slapped the other across the face, they couldn't help but be happy to just be aground each other. Their arguments had grown less and less frequent over the years once they both started to realize a simple truth: they couldn't fight over every little thing that bothered them, their relationship couldn't survive like that. It may seem like an obvious solution, but Peter was pretty sloppy and had ADHD while Michelle had been very upright with OCD— not always the best combination when it came to living together. Especially when she'd spend an hour showing Peter how things had to be organized only to realized he had been staring and a bug on the ceiling the entire time. It took a while, but they managed through it and now it was just another day in the life.

"Don't you have an article to be editing?" Peter asked after a while, "or is staring over my shoulder a part of your job?"

"Oh yeah, it's the most important part," Michelle replied, hardly joking, "I even get paid."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. Two kisses per hour."

"Hm, not good enough. Four an hour," Peter decided, craning his neck to look into her eyes, "I'll even pay upfront."

"Gimme," Michelle wrapped her arms around his neck eagerly.

Peter chuckled in response and sealed their lips in a sweet kiss.

———

Peter gazed at his girlfriend for a few beats as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Michelle looked like a goddess with the way she laid, her body draped gracefully across their bed. She needed a few hours of sleep before 11:30 struck and she was forced to drag her ass to her night job. Peter could be laying with her, but he had other matters to tend to.

Peter quietly paced across the room to her and leaned over, lightly brushing her cheek with his lips.

"I'm gonna go on a walk," Peter whispered by Michelle's ear.

"Do you ever sleep," Michelle murmured groggily in response.

"I'm an insomniac, you know that," Peter smiled softly as she lazily waved him off.

That much was true: insomnia was something he had struggled with since he lost his uncle. His lack of sleep was something that had only worsened as time dragged on. With the "Endgame" mixed with the death of Tony, Quentin and his illusions haunting Peter's dreams, and his aunt's passing just over a year later, rest was rare. Thankfully, was learning to live with it and could function almost as well as a normal person with eight hours of sleep.

Peter walked out of their house then retreated into the depths of the city. He turned a corner and ducked into an alleyway before reaching under a dumpster, flicking a small lever, and releasing his Spiderman suit from its compartment. Keeping his superhero life a secret from his girlfriend probably wasn't the healthiest thing for their relationship, but it was for her safety. If anything were to happen to Michelle, Peter couldn't live with himself. Fuck, he couldn't live. Loosing her would me the last straw, he was already on his last leg.

Now, one might wonder "what about Ned?" And Peter would reply with "Fuck Ned." Their friendship had come to an abrupt, harsh halt after a series of events and shouting matches neither cared to relive.

Then came the question "what about the Avengers?" Peter's answer: "what Avengers?" They weren't really a "thing" anymore. Bucky and Sam had remained close friends with Wanda playing the role of third-wheel/basically Bucky's unofficial daughter. Carol sometimes checked in but not very consistently, plus she was often occupied with her relationship with Valkyrie. And Valkyrie was occupied with being the king of New Asgard. Thor was who knows where and no one even knew if he was still alive. T'challa had no interest in being in a team, much less funding one. His sister, Shuri was someone Peter had always wanted to meet, but the stars had yet to align. The Guardians of the Galaxy hadn't spoken the heroes of earth since the "Endgame" and no one blamed them. Doctor Strange wanted nothing to do with Peter— nothing more needed to be said there. As for Rhodes, he had officially retired a year ago. The physical and mental wear had gotten the better of him, and (despite his hesitation) he stepped out of the suit for good. He and Peter were fairly close, so that's one person who would miss the young man if he were to die without Michelle.

There was Pepper and Morgan (who was now fourteen years old), but much to Peter's regret, he hadn't spoken to them since Tony's death. He really didn't have a reason anymore, but at first he simply couldn't bring himself to look into the eyes of a mini Tony. The wound of his mentor's loss was too fresh. But he wasn't the only one avoiding the gaze of a mini Tony. Pepper had a hard time looking at Peter for the same reason he couldn't look at her daughter. Because of this, the almost-family had lost contact. And when they finally did consider speaking, it seemed like it had been too long, like they hardly knew each other anymore.

What about Happy? Well, when May fell ill and died, so did Peter's friendship with Happy. They hadn't spoken since.

So Peter's isolation had been his own fault, and something he constantly regretted. But he had no will crawl back into the arms of what could have been a loving family. He had everything he could ever need with Michelle and sometimes Rhodes.

Peter, now dressed as Spiderman, perched on top of a billboard as he scanned his surroundings, "Karen, what time is it?" he asked.

"10:30. And if your sources are correct, there's a major sale of illegal weapons taking place in half an hour," Karen replied.

"Yep," Peter hooked his legs over the edge of the board and leaned back until he was hanging upside down, "and I should be able to wrap that up in time to see Black Cat."

"You seem to be quite fond of Black Cat," Karen observed.

"She's my only friend outside of MJ," Peter replied, "I mean, we're not friends friends. We just get along well and-"

"You refuse to do your job right when she's in the picture."

"Hey! That's not- who programmed you to say that?" Peter couldn't help but be offended by that, even if it was the truth.

"It was Rhodes’s idea," Karen answered, "who else's could it be?"

Peter chuckled, "no one I guess."

"Do you like Black Cat?"

"She's cool to hang out with. But if you're suggesting that I like like her, then calling you Artificial Intelligence would be a massive overstatement."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Karen somehow managed a defensive tone.

"Good," he replied shortly as he sat up right and readjusted his stance, "now let's get in position for this weapons sale."

"Would you like me to activate instant-kill?"

"NO! I thought I disabled that!"

"Well you didn't."

"I- ugh. Just stop it with the instant-kill."

He huffed and stepped off the billboard. Shooting a web to what his Spider-Sense told him was a safe platform, Peter launched himself through the cool, night air. As he glided through the city, he allowed himself to get lost in thought. He knew these streets all too well, swinging through the sky was as easy as breathing or walking. It wasn't something he had to think to hard about.

———

Michelle awoke abruptly to the Brooklyn Nine-Nine theme song blasting in her ear. She yelped in surprise and jolted upright, her hands frantically searching for her phone. Finally, her fingers brushed the cold box and she was able to shut off the alarm.

"Damn you, Peter," she hissed to her absent boyfriend, "that is the last time I let you pick my alarm."

Sighing and stretching sleep out of her body, Michelle tossed her phone onto her pillow then stood up. She unlocked and opened her suitcase and withdrew a skintight, black, leather suit. It covered everything below her collarbone and fit her perfectly.

After stripping down and redressing in the suit, she headed to the master bathroom and took out several makeup products plus a flowing, silver wig. For her night job, she went heavy on the makeup. She had to. She'd make her skin look a shade lighter (she hated doing that), her facial features would eventually appear narrower, then she'd tuck away her curls underneath her wavy wig. To top everything off, Michelle placed a sleek mask over her face. It didn't cover much, but it was mostly to distract anyone who might recognize her eyes. Sure she could use colored contacts, but those made her eyes itch and dry up. Besides, she liked her mask.

I'm going to propose to Peter, she thought to herself as she slipped out a window into the shadow of her neighbor's house. I just need a ring. That means jewelry-store-I-can't-remember-the-name-of— you are my first victim.

She carefully traveled in the shadows until she reached the depths of her city. She sprinted across roofs and leapt with the grace of a cat from one building to another. Normally I go easy on Mister Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman, but if he tries stopping me from getting this engagement ring I will beat his ass to the ground.

Usually, she would think of engagement rings as a waste of money, and marriage as a social standard. But this was Peter fucking Parker she was talking about. In her mind, he deserved the world and the world didn't deserve him. He deserved a proper proposal with the perfect wedding (and how ever he defined a perfect wedding was up to him). She felt kind of gross with how much she loved Peter, no one had ever made her feel this way before. Everyone else she had been with was no more than a fleeting infatuation or a brief fling. Peter was her first boyfriend she had cared to be with for longer than a few weeks. He was the first one she actually loved to the point that thinking about not being with him made her feel physically ill.

Here we are: best place to get an engagement ring. She thought happily as she landed elegantly on top of the jewelry store she always forgot the name of. Thankfully, the store was closed so she didn't have to worry about running in to an employee. But, this store had one hell of a security system that wasn't easy to avoid. Unless you had a friend who worked their and you knew the store inside out. Like Michelle. She had stripped this store clean of jewels and diamonds several times; she knew exactly how to get in and out without getting caught.

It was really quite simple: there was one corner of the interior that the security cameras didn't glare down upon, from there she could duck behind a counter and slip into a utility closest where the electricity box was kept. Then, she would shut off the box, making her presence seem to be no more than an unfortunate power outage. An unfortunate power outage that would shut off their security system and result in jewelry stolen.

Michelle hummed to herself as she browsed the collecting of rings with her hands folded neatly behind her back. Despite the deep darkness, she could effortlessly make out each individual hoop and their little diamonds. Her eyes bore down into the gems as she paced back and forth, picking up a few random bracelets and necklaces to satisfy her twitchy, kleptomaniac urges. She decorated herself with emeralds and rubies, knowing she'd be selling each one later for much more than it was worth, as she waited for a ring to capture her attention.

"I figured I'd see you here," a voice spoke from behind her.

Michelle whirled around to see none other than Spiderman standing with his arms crossed, "not a good time, Spider," she hissed.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "never is. But either way, I can't let you steal all of that."

"But I look amazing in it," Michelle flipped her silver hair over her shoulder and jokingly posed like a model, "you can't tell me otherwise, and you know it."

"Mm, true," he unfolded his arms, "but you could at least pay for it."

Michelle swiftly snatched an elegant ring whose gleam had caught her eye and slipped it her finger through it, "let's get this over with."

She swiftly paced across the small store and roundhouse kicked the man in the side. Hardly budging from his sturdy stance, Spiderman snapped his hands around her ankle and rapidly slammed her onto the ground. Gasping in pain as all the air in her lungs was sucked out, Michelle found herself frozen and stunned.

"There, we got that over with," Spiderman stated smartly, "now, I should probably turn you in."

"Not today, Spider," she spat.

She hopped up and raked her claws against his rock hard abs then punched him in the stomach with full force. Spiderman groaned sharply as he keeled over, keeping one hand clasped tightly over the bleeding wound. Michelle smirked in satisfaction. She had cut a bit deeper than she had intended to, but she could live with that. Whether or not the spider could live with that was a different story.

Michelle smirked and knelt down to be eye level with the hero. Her smirking eyes bore into him as she rested on hand on his knee. She could practically feel his frustration radiating off him, and she could tell his pain forced his eyes to squeeze shut.

"See you later, Spider," she purred with her silky voice.

"Fuck you," he grunted.

"Thought you said you have a girlfriend," she smartly retorted then sank her claws into his leg, earning a cry of pain, "good luck getting home."

With that, she wiped his blood off her hand and onto his suit, then stood upright. Stalking past him, she silently begged him to get home safe and see his girlfriend so she could tend his wounds and they could hold each other tightly.

As Black Cat hurried into the darkness of the streets, Peter called after her one last comment, "I let you have this one!"

With a deep breath (as if breathing could wash away the pain), Peter stood up shakily and shot a web at his leg as it oozed crimson blood. The goop stung the open wound violently, but it was worth it to assist in closing the gash. He managed to spit another wad of webbing onto his stomach and hissed gingerly. I'll be fine in a few days, but I'm lucky she didn't cut any deeper.

Before he could sigh in disappointment at his failure, an alarm blared in the distance. Rushing out of the jewelry store with an evident limp, Peter hurried to rescue and capture the separate thief.

———

Michelle yawned and stretched as she sprawled out on a random roof, a satisfied smirk painting her lips. It was about one in the morning now, meaning she'd get to go home soon. For now, she just needed a little breather but in a few minutes, she'd be curled up in Peter's strong arms as he stroked her hair lovingly.

"Sold it all ready?" A hero spoke.

She sat up to gaze upon Spiderman who had noticed her lack of jewelry, "obviously."

Michelle pat the ground next to her and Spiderman gladly sat down next to her, "that ring you took... was that an engagement ring."

"Yep, sold that too," she held out her hand, showing that the ring was gone. But she didn't sell the ring, it was now safely hidden in her pocket.

"Ah. I figured," he smiled under his mask, "it made me think of my girlfriend," Michelle beamed warmly and crossed her legs, giving him her full attention, "I think I'm going to propose to her."

"You think?"

"Well, no," he chuckled and Michelle couldn't help but admire how fondly he spoke of the lucky lady, "I know I'm proposing. She deserves the world, and the world doesn't deserve her," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I just hope she says yes. Marriage isn't normally her thing, y'know?"

"I do now," Michelle chuckled, making the spider chortle quietly in response.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the sounds of the city. Cars quietly roaring across the road, the occasionally honk of a horn— even early in the morning, Queens, New York was a restless city.

Michelle looked over at her spider friend as curiosity struck her bones, "hey, Spider?"

"Hm?"

"I know basically everything about you."

"Well, yeah. We've known each other for years."

"Yeah, but there's one more thing I wanna know."

"What's that?"

"What do you look like? Like... can you take your mask off for me?"

Spiderman hesitated then choked out an anxious laugh, "you really wanna see that ugly-ass mess?"

She tilted her head to the side and nodded, "yeah. I'm sure you're not that bad."

He groaned, "ugh, I am."

"Well at least I'm prepared now," she gave a lopsided smile, "c'mon, I don't judge."

He took a deep breath, calming his jittery nerves, "alright, although I feel like this isn't a good idea."

"Show me your ugly face and I'll show you mine," she offered then flipped her hair with enough sass for the spider to touch, "actually my face is pretty hot, but you know what I mean."

"Wish I had your confidence," Spiderman laughed then gripped the edge of his mask.

The two went dead silent and Michelle squirmed with anticipation. Her heart fluttered in excitement while his palpitated in anxiety. He carefully peeled the mask off his face, letting his matted hair spring free.

The moment her eyes absorbed his soft features, Michelle's heart stopped in its tracks. She swallowed thickly and felt her lungs constrict violently as she recognized the young man before her.

She opened her mouth to choke out "Peter?" yet no sound came out. Peter looked away in embarrassment and fidgeted with the mask in his hands. I've been dating Spiderman for ten fucking years.... Michelle tried desperately to understand her situation as dismay rest heavy in her chest. Betrayal and fury towards Peter keeping such a secret flared up inside her. She clenched her fists, and for a brief moment she had the undeniable urge to slit his throat and end his life.

"So," Peter sheepishly spoke, defusing Michelle's violent instinct, "can I-"

He was interrupted by yelling and a cry for help in the distance, "I need to take care of that."

She opened her mouth to speak yet no words came out. Slightly embarrassed by her silence, Peter put his mask back on and turned around. Michelle watched him swing away until he was out of sight. Then, she ran like hell.

———

After sloppily washing away her makeup, removing the wig, and throwing the suit on the ground, Michelle collapsed onto her bed with her heart racing and tears threatening to fall. She had no idea what emotions or thoughts were racing through her confused mind.

"What is happening, what is happening, what just happened!" She rambled to herself.

Her heart was racing in panic as she raked her hands through her disheveled hair. But before she could be thrown into a panic attack, a quiet ding announced a new text and she scooped her phone into her hands.

Silver Sable: hey kitty, just got a job and I think you can do it for me

Michelle: not a good time

Silver Sable: please? It'll be a piece of cake

Michelle: What is it?

Silver Sable: Kill Spiderman

Michelle clapped her hand over her mouth and choked back a strangled cry of despair. Silver Sable was not only her closest friend (save Peter), but an anti-hero/villain-assassin-fore-hire badass that Michelle admired in every way. Turning her down was never an easy task.

Michelle: No

Silver Sable: oh c'mon. Don't be like that! I know you guys are friends but this is for a shit load of money. You can keep half of it

Michelle: I can't

Silver Sable: fine. 75% of the bounty

Silver Sable: Just think about how many times he's fucked us up or fucked up our colleagues. How much better our lives are going to be without him!

Michelle: Horrible! He's my boyfriend!

Silver Sable: Perfect! That'll make killing him even easier

Michelle: No! I'm not killing him and neither are you

Silver Sable: are you seriously choosing the life of some long-term booty call you had a crush on in high school over the lives of your best friends, colleagues, and family when you had none, PLUS your career and everything you've worked for your entire life?

Silver Sable: I thought you were better than that

Michelle: ...

"Who're you texting," Peter asked as he walked into their room.

Michelle's entire body jolted and she dropped her phone into her lap, "Jake from State Farm."

"None of my business," Peter smiled tiredly as he sat next to her, "my bad."

She briefly flashed a wavering simper yet found herself unable to make eye contact with her boyfriend who she wanted to desperately to marry just that morning. Now, she was unsure.

As she lay in Peter's arms with her eyes closed lightly, she couldn't shake off Silver Sable's words. Eventually, Peter's protective touch and comforting warmth had Michelle drifting off into an unsettled sleep while his exhausted, insomniac eyes remained gazing down at her body. Just like everyday at two in the morning when Michelle was fast asleep while rest rejected Peter's body, the young man found himself thanking the universe for the perfectly imperfect woman laying in his arms. Thank you for her, he praised nobody in particular, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me.

———

The next day, it was about nine in the evening and Michelle had just finished making dinner for herself and Peter. She had hardly spoken all day and as much as Peter worried, he learned over the years that when she got like this, it was best to leave her alone. She was most likely upset about something and she would confide in him when they lay in bed together in a few hours. For now, he'd merely smile his heartwarming grin, and hold her tightly every chance he got.

What Peter didn't know (aside from his girlfriend being a thief) was Michelle had been feeling sick to her stomach all day. Whether it was a stomach bug or the guilt that had been weighing on her all day, she had no idea. Either way, her mind hadn't wandered from the night before. There was too much for her to absorb calmly: her boyfriend was Spiderman, they were enemies, and he wanted to propose. And she wanted to propose. And Silver wanted her to kill him.

Michelle finished plating their meals, set the dishes on a counter, then turned around to grab silverware from a drawer. Peter stood up from his seat at their tiny table then grabbed the plates from the counter and set them on the table nearby.

"The one on the left it yours," Michelle spoke, suddenly and shortly.

Peter knit his brow but nodded anyways, "as you wish."

Dinner was silent and tense. Michelle's mind was racing as she watched Peter with every bite he took. Peter pretended not to notice her stare, although it made him mildly uncomfortable. It was like she was preying on him, waiting for something to happen but he didn't know what. How could he know when she had said roughly four sentences all day?

Michelle forced her last bite of steak down her throat then set her plate off to the side. Peter looked into her foggy eyes and frowned worriedly.

"You look pale," Peter observed as he reached across the table and held her hands tenderly.

Michelle glanced at him and stood up, "I need some fresh air."

Peter mimicked her motions and nodded, "let's go for a walk then."

She nodded stiffly and slid her hand into Peter's as they walked out the door with their coats. The sky was already dark, seeing as the sun had set hours ago. The night air was brisk and refreshing against their tense skin. Peter held Michelle's paw tightly with one hand while the other fidgeted anxiously with the ring in his pocket. It was his aunt's ring and she had left it behind for when Peter found the "right one." And Michelle was, without a doubt, the "right one."

Little did he know, Michelle's free hand was fidgeting with a ring as well. The one he had tried to stop her from steeling the night before. However, she felt like she should wait to use it. Maybe save it for tomorrow. Maybe the day after. Maybe never.

Suddenly, Peter stopped in his tracks. He was pale as the moon that shone through the clouds that fogged its view of the earth below. Michelle paused and looked down at him; he was trembling like an aspen leaf in the wind.

This is it, Michelle thought as she took a deep breath.

His legs gave out and he keeled over on one knee, his eyes wide and glassy, "M-Michelle..."

It's finally happening.

His gasped and coughed violently, crimson blood spurting from his lips. Michelle could only stare down at him as his expression twisted into one of terror and agony.

No turning back.

Pain lit up inside Peter like fireworks light up the night sky as he grit his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. He collapsed on all fours and choked for breath, only to be stopped by the blood pooling in his throat and oozed out from his parted lips. Tears trickled down his cheeks as Michelle knelt down. She knew she couldn't help him, but she could at least stroke his cheek lovingly as he writhed in pain. She gnawed on her lower lip until it bled too stop herself from breaking in to uncontrolled sobs.

Seeing Peter groaning and crying in pain as he choked on his own blood was almost too much for her to bare. Her stomach twisted into tight knots and she vision blurred with salty tears. She gathered him in her arms and let him gasp her sleeves and jeans, his blood dripping from the corners of his mouth to stain her shirt.

"Peter Parker," she spoke, her voice trembling and cracking, "I love you. I love you so, so much I can't even explain it. I can just feel it. I can physically feel it. A-and I am so sorry."

She clutched his body tightly, begging for his pain to end as she buried her face in the side of his neck. She felt his panicked pulse against her cheek as he cried out on last time, letting out all of the air and life in his lungs. Peter's body froze for a moment, tense and seeming almost unsure of death, then he relaxed completely. Michelle held his corpse tightly as she sobbed, her entire body shaking. She kissed his neck over and over as its warmth disappeared like the ghost he now was.

"I didn't wanna do this," she cried, her voice tight with despair.

She wailed and screamed into the night, teardrops streaming down her cheeks like rivers.

———

"So," Silver Sable purred silkily, "did you do it?"

Michelle, her cheeks red and eyes puffy, sat down at the barstool next to her friend. For a few beats, she couldn't find her voice so she stared at the bar around her. There were only a handful of people there, plus the two bartenders.

Finally, she nodded slowly, "yes," her volume hardly matched that of a whisperer.

Silver beamed proudly and pat her back with her powerful hand, producing a hallow thump, thump, "well done, Kitty! I'll need to show my employer his body— where's it at?"

"It's at my house," she murmured hoarsely, "we can stop by later."

"I'm so proud of you!" Silver squealed, "I'm so glad he's gone! Aren't you?"

Michelle swallowed thickly and stared at the counter in front of her. Eventually, she managed to shake her head 'no.' She was still trying to process what she had just done. She was so unfathomably empty, it was like she had gotten her soul and happiness sucked out of her body. And in a way, she had.

"Don't be like that, Kitty," Silver nudged her playfully.

"But... I loved him," Michelle managed weakly.

"You'll get over it soon enough," the assassin rolled her eyes, "let's start with a round of drinks. Y'know, to celebrate."

"Ah yes," Michelle heaved a sigh, "let us celebrate the long-awaited death of... of my spider."

Silver suspired as she shook off her excitement to recognize her friend's despair, "come here, Kitty," she wrapped her arm around Michelle and pulled her close, "you're the toughest chick I've ever met. You'll get through this."

Michelle stayed quiet. Her words were far from adequate, but that was about as sincere as Silver got. The metallic scent of death mixed with Peter's coffee-and-bagel scent was still lingering on her clothing. It filled her nose and clouded her mind until all she saw was the whiskey glass that had just been placed in front of her. I just ruined my own life, huh?

"Trust me," Silver reached for her glass, "you did the right thing."

#blackcat!mj #mj #michelle jones #peter parker #spiderman #black cat #spideychelle #petermj #angst #peter parker angst #major character death #fanfic #👀

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