#(i want it stated for the mob that i have never read this ya book and have no intention of doing so. the quote just fit) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

you-are-forever-special · 9 months

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Here ya go!

Your OC accidentally helped a mob boss change a flat while transporting a corpse and was rewarded with a "favor." They then find themselves in a position where they need to make that call. -Is it a successful mission or does it require a few steps to complete?

(Thank you~! I got super into this one, lol - kinda dark warning. And sorry if it's confusing; read the chapter 'The Best Years Of Our Lives' for some more context)

---

She thought she had escaped this life.

But deep down, Taiga knew all along that that was most likely just wishful thinking.

It had been years, but she would have preferred if it had been a lifetime if she never had to be involved with another gang in any way again.

Yet here Taiga was.

'How do I get myself into these situations...?' She thought; bemused.

She just had to have been outside the woods at this moment to see the near accident caused by an almost blown tire. Just HAD to be so friendly. Unassuming. Nonchalant, and helpful...

To a mob boss.

Better than acting erratic, she supposed, and kept trying to just act normal.

Not that this situation was normal in the first place.

If anyone even glanced at these two, eyebrows would be raised at the very least.

Thankfully it wasn't someone from who she used to run with...

Unfortunately though, this mob boss knew who she attacked the day that her old crew was killed.

Taiga didn't want to kill that man.

But that panicked voice in her head stated that maybe she should have.

Either way...

This explained more on why there wasn't really any freak out or question regarding her appearance.

The only reason Taiga even found out this person is a mob boss, is because they flat-out said it.

They decided to continue their quest in oversharing, because now Taiga was aware that there was a BODY inside their vehicle.

Why her. Why now.

Why EVER.

On the outside, Taiga seemed calm, cool, collected.

And she surprisingly continued to keep it together as her clustered thoughts of 'godthisisitthedayidie-' and resurfacing flashbacks of that night were temporarily interrupted.

Instead of anger, what she was met with was a snide, yet impressed tone after they were done laughing.

But Taiga found nothing humorous about this.

"Ain't life downright ironic...?

Surprised a little thing like you could pull that off. But I think this works out in our favor. We can help each other out here..."

Taiga barely swallowed; her mouth having gone dry.

There it was.

But she knew by the boss' tone that it wasn't a request.

She held back from following any instincts to book it, and chose to hear them out for now.

"...How?"

Taiga's voice came out soft, yet firm.

"Well... I may or may not have come into new power lately.

Been working my ass off to get there, but then I was thrown under the bus after everything I've done...

So, you know what I said?"

Their tone was borderline manic and chilled Taiga to the core. Even after dealing with Séthyan, some things she still could just never get used to.

Yet she continued staying unflinching as the body's identity was revealed to her.

Physically.

The previous mob boss that was splayed out before her, still had that chunk of his ear missing from when Taiga bit it clean off back then...

She felt herself slipping into that familiar pit of suffocation; slowly spacing out some after witnessing the state his body was in.

He sure wouldn't be recognized. This crime was enacted with clear hatred.

The only reason Taiga did was because she could never get his face, body type... Right down to his damn voice, to leave her fragile psyche.

It came flooding back once again. Even after all this time, she could tell it was him. But she was slightly brought back to this harsh reality as the mob boss giggled, saying they answered their own question in a mocking manner:

"Screw "loyalty!!!""

Especially as they spat that last word with such vemon; like remembering part of an oath that was once taken and became tarnished.

Taiga felt nauseous, but just blankly stared off at nothing as her eyes glazed over.

It's all she could do right now.

"I'm willing to forgive your own egregious debt, since this-"

They continued, grabbing onto the deceased man's hair; yanking up and jerking his head around violently before throwing it back down against the vehicle's door.

"-PUTZ decided to be smart and fuck around with me too.

No one seriously cared about you anyways!!! You don't have anything smart to say now, do ya!?

DO YOU!?!"

They took a moment to "collect" themselves after yelling at the corpse like it could hear, but Taiga could still see the truth inside those eyes...

"But only if you keep your mouth shut and don't leave any open ends...

Then maybe I'll be nice and do ya a solid in return~

I really need this to go off without a hitch. But I'm sure the rest of the boys will listen to reason..."

As the fractured soul rambled off to the point of incoherence, Taiga's own fragmented self could see they were antsy and in a bit of a rush, but she honestly couldn't bring herself to care if their plan worked or not.

It most likely wouldn't. Especially with their attitude.

They seemed to react on impulse over rationality, and were hanging by a taut thread at this point.

But Taiga wouldn't dare test its strength.

Even if they seemed sloppy and blabbed about things they probably shouldn't...

People can surprise you.

She didn't feel bad for the dead man, or whoever this self-proclaimed newest mob boss was, though.

Did not feel an ounce of sadness for any of them.

Taiga could understand deep down. Really, she could.

But she was tired.

And she'd never excuse any of this shit.

She just wanted to be done with it all and go back to her happy life that she FINALLY achieved.

Even if Taiga was scared, she would fight tooth and nail each time that she needed to, to keep her life that way.

She didn't want to go against her morals, buy what else could she do here without getting murdered as well?

A voice inside her barely stuck in the thought of 'Maybe that would be for the best' before she smothered it back down inside of her.

As Taiga refocused enough, she agreed, much to the "mob boss'" delight.

And Taiga figured that she might as well try and go for it since they seemed serious in their own way.

If they were, and could somehow pull it off, then...

"Please... If it's not to much to ask..."

She forced herself to go on, despite feeling like she was choking on the vowels of her words.

"I would just want my identity, along with my friends', to be protected.

I know you know enough about me, and I'm done being used by others, and running.

I just want to live in peace.

That's all I ask of you."

She couldn't take it if some ignorant person called the government to run even more tests on her, etc.

She was lucky enough to escape all that, along with any other form of publicity really.

Taiga knew the "cosplay" and makeup excuses, along with any others, could potentially run its course but...

Couldn't she **please** at least just have a somewhat "regular" life for just a little longer?

"I'll take this to the grave."

Taiga looked up into those **icy** irises as they stared right back without a beat; her own now a slight shine of red to them at the intense emotions simultaneously flowing throughout her core.

"Done."

The churl raised a brow as they simply said that with a smirk.

Overall they seemed pleased it wasn't anything to do with money.

That was one thing.

But life isn't always so easy.

"Glad to see someone has a head on their shoulders."

Taiga heard but wasn't paying as much attention anymore. Not by choice, really. She was just losing even more of her nerve as the seconds ticked by.

She also had a feeling she'd be taken advantage of if they were given the chance, despite the words that were so slyly spoken.

Especially if their plan failed.

They didn't really even hide the slimy tone that made things obvious from the start...

Taiga usually preferred honesty without games beforehand, but she wasn't ready for this.

Then again, could she have ever been "ready?"

...

For now, she just shook their hand as her own was firmly grasped.

Taiga could've sworn she was shaking by now, but everything...

Even the air itself was too numbing against her skin.

It was all too much.

...Who cared...

It didn't take long for them to get situated and back in their driver's seat.

"I'll see you around, then...

Taiga."

As they gave a wave, they didn't bother to look back, but grinned wide before revving their engine and speeding off; dirt spraying from underneath the now perfect looking tires and almost hitting Taiga.

For once, her own nickname being spoken gave her more dread than her real name that she could barely ever stomach to hear.

As the crushing weight of paranoia fully engulfed her...

Taiga just started to head back to her cottage afterwards, before she had a meltdown outside; her movement akin to a zombie's.

The questions and doubts flowed free, like a dam was destroyed in her brain.

She couldn't bring herself to try and be positive anymore.

Taiga was currently alone, and too deep into this pit to climb out of on her own.

And as soon as she got into her bed and underneath the covers...

She sobbed.

#Well #that was sad #I'll leave it up to y'all on if she has a happy ending or not after all #Mika “Taiga” Taira #“Taiga”#Mika Taira #Taiga #Mika #Taira #OC #oc #writing #prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts #prompts

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punprincess321 · 3 years

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Hello I never do that xD but I have an idea for a shitpost about Mcree taking care of Hanzo who is under the weather but he plays Tsundere like I only accept your help cause I want get better.. X)

(I don't see overwatch fans often)

I love it!

*Hanzo has recently joined overwatch, but he can tell there's a lot of judgment towards him so he makes the attempt to not be a hassle. One day, Hanzo leaves his room, he's pale, shivering, and looks like a stiff breeze would send him crashing to the floor*

Jesse: *walks past and sees Hanzo leaning on the wall trying to walk* Hey Shimada, what's goin' on with ya?

Hanzo: *violently starts coughing* N-Nothing... I'm fine, don't trouble yourself with me... *he shambles away as quickly as possible*

*later, it's team training in the gym and Hanzo is paired up with Fareeha for sparring, everything cheers as Fareeha takes Hanzo down but McCree knows he's too weak*

Fareeha: *has Hanzo in a headlock* C'mon! I thought I was fighting a cold blooded killer!

Hanzo: *tries to get out of her grip but is wheezing badly, Fareeha scoffs and throws him aside, he shakily gets up and walks off, Genji looks at his brother worriedly and glares at his friends for gossiping*

*At dinner*

Genji: Fareeha you could have seriously injured Hanzo!

Fareeha: Why are you forgiving him!? Look what he did to you! *the others nod in agreement when suddenly Jesse's fist slams down on the table*

Jesse: I ain't no better than Genji's brother yet y'all treat me like family! And didja all suddenly forget what country the two are from? Japan is doped up on family and honor! They were also mob kids! Of course things'll be fucking up!

Genji: I didn't plan on being that blunt but thank you Jesse. Hanzo was forced to do this to me, we were both raised that way, if you have complaints about it then take it up with my family. *the whole table is silent* I'm going to visit master tomorrow, please treat my brother with respect, I chose to forgive him and I want you all to respect that decision.

*the next day, Genji leaves and everyone is hanging out in the lounge*

Hanzo: *walks in looking like he's suffering from the plague*

Lena: Hanzo?... ya look terrible...

Hanzo: *in a raspy tone* I-I'm fine... *collapses*

Jesse: Han! *runs over*

*A few hours later, Hanzo wakes up in his bedroom, a cold cloth on his head and a humidifier humming on his dresser*

Jesse: *walks in holding a tray of food* Hey there, you gave everyone a bit of a scare.

Hanzo: *coughs* I know you all dislike me, I doubt I worried anyone...

Jesse: Ya worried me... *puts down the tray and sits next to the bed* Hanzo I know how ya feel, you think you're human garbage and you were treated like it fer so damn long ya don't think anyone cares about you or yer wellbeing... I know whatcha did but I ain't no better, the others think they get t' judge ya because they don't know how you felt about what ya did but they don't, if they had that right I would probably rottin' in a prison cell till I was 80.

Hanzo: *tears up* I didn't want to do it...

Jesse: I know ya didn't partner... *feels Hanzo's forehead* yer fever's still pretty bad, luckily Angela had the decency to give me some medicine t' help ya get better.

Hanzo: It's fine McCree... I can handle myself...

Jesse: Nuh uh, seein' ya up and about in this state is enough of a scare and I don't want Genji bearin' his teeth. I'm yer personal nurse till ya get better.

Hanzo: *blushes* I don't need help, I'm fi- *grabs the trashcan on the side of his bed and vomits*

Jesse: You were sayin'?

Hanzo: *groans* If you help me will this agony end?

Jesse: Pretty sure.

*A few days later, Genji returns and finds McCree leaving Hanzo's room*

Genji: Jesse? What were you doing in Hanzo's room?

Jesse: Your brother is sufferin' from a pretty bad flu, I'm helpin' him get better.

Genji: He's sick!? How long has he been sick!?

Jesse: since before ya left, he didn't want to bug anyone so he said nothin', ended up passing out in the lounge, I got him to bed and Angie's been givin' me stuff t' make him better.

Genji: Why isn't he in the infirmary?

Jesse: I got the sense that Hanzo would try t' leave if he was there. He's just reading a book right now, Imma go get some extra blankets. *walks off*

Genji: *walks into Hanzo's room* Anija, I'm back.

Hanzo: *sitting in bed reading, he looks up and smiles before coughing* Hi Genji... How was Nepal?

Genji: It was nice, McCree told me you have the flu, are you alright?

Hanzo: I'm fine, Jesse has been treating me well.

Genji: I'm glad, he's a person I feel I can trust around you, especially in a vulnerable state like this. Anyway you should get some rest.

Hanzo: I will, thank you Genji.

*A few days later, Hanzo comes out of his room looking much better but still sniffling and wearing a mask, he walks into the kitchen*

Jesse: *sitting at the counter drinking tea and looking at his phone when he notices Hanzo* Hey Hanzo, feelin' better?

Hanzo: Well I don't feel faint anymore so that's a good sign.

Jesse: I'm glad, I made some chai tea, ya want sum?

Hanzo: that would be lovely, thank you.

Jesse: *pours him a cup and grabs a lozenge before handing him both* ya sound a bit hoarse, maybe suck on this while ya have yer tea.

Hanzo: *smiles and blushes a little* thank you for your concern about my health McCree, I appreciate your help very much.

Jesse: aww, don't mention it, happy to help a friend.

Hanzo: *chuckles and sips his tea, feeling better by the minute*

#jesse mccree #overwatch #overwatch shitposts #hanzo shimada #mchanzo #hanzo x mccree #mccree x hanzo #mccree #genji shimada #thanks for the ask!#sorry this took forever #sorry if its bad

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Shenanigans and Love (Adrenaline Junkie Part 13)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: the Warden, mentions of death, phantom pain syndrome, extreme fluff

Word count: 3,226

The light glow of the redstone lamp illuminated your work space. Currently, it was about two hours before everybody was due to wake up and you were hovering over your journal containing your notes on the Warden. Not much was known about the cave-dwelling creature, but you found a couple of books about it at the library. So far, you found out that it indeed didn’t have eyes; it navigated via a mixture of hearing and a vibration network found in the blocks that had the glowing tentacles on them (you now knew that they were called ‘sculk blocks’). The sculk blocks would pick up on movement or touch, it would send vibration waves through the air, where it would reach the Warden’s own sculk stalks. Without the sculk stalks on the Warden’s head, the Warden was defenseless.

You also read about the anatomy of the creature. Known juvenile specimens ranged from seven to eleven feet tall while adults spanned from twelve to a whopping twenty feet tall. While their average lifespan is unknown due to the parasitic nature of the beast, it is known that they are out of their juvenile stage once they are approximately twenty years old. Thinking back on the one in the cave, it was about twice as tall as you were. That was a juvenile mob and it’s probably grown rapidly since then. The thing that killed you so viciously was a juvenile. You shuddered thinking about what an adult could do.

Juveniles are charted to be more erratic in their decisions while adults were known to be calculating and alert. Known weaknesses were known to be the sculk stalks and the heart. It was going to be incredibly difficult to take it down by yourself, but if worse comes to worse, you’d gladly take the beast down with you. Just in case, you left behind a small will with things you were planning on giving to your family. You were going to leave your workshop and your blueprints to Arthur, your collection of diamonds to Tommy and Wilbur, your stock of netherite and gold to Technoblade, and your wealth and life savings to Philza. You requested that Philza take care of Arthur, you couldn’t ask for a better father figure to have than Philza. Only the best for Arthur. In addition, you had a letter prepared for every member of your family. They were still in their first drafts, but they were coming along fast. In them, you detailed how grateful you were for every single one of them and reminisced on your favorite memory you shared with them. You still had about a week and a half left before you planned on attacking the cave, but you always liked to have extra time to complete things.

Your alarm clock sounded with harsh, lazer like beeps before you quickly silenced it. You didn’t need Arthur or Philza waking up so early. Sighing, you hid your journal and letters under a false bottom drawer and gently closed it. You trudged up the stairs quietly and made your way to the bathroom to shower for the day. When you took off your prosthetic, you could feel the phantom pains shoot up your nonexistent wing. In addition to that, the feathered stump and the areas around it felt stiff. The warmth of the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain.

After your shower, you started to make breakfast. Soon after, the other members of the household filed into the kitchen with differing energies. Arthur, the hyper, knowledge craving kid he was, walked into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his head held high while Philza followed him with disheveled hair and tired blue eyes. With breakfast situated at the table, everyone started eating. You continuously shifting uncomfortably in your seat didn’t go unnoticed by the two as they eyed you after they woke up a little more.

Finally having enough of your constant movement, Philza finally spoke up, “(y/n)?” You hummed, turning to look at him, “yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

You suddenly become hyper aware of your movements as you force your body to sit still. “Everything’s fine, why you ask?”

“You look a little uncomfortable. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

You sighed, “I’ll tell you later. Arthur did you have anything specific you wanted to learn today?”

His eyes shone with the brightness of all of the stars in the universe as he made quick work to swallow his mouthful of toast, jumping in his seat slightly as he chewed. “Yes! I was wondering if you could teach me how to work with comparators!”

“That takes a lot of time and patience to learn, we probably won’t get it all done by the end of the day today. Is that alright?” He enthusiastically nodded, shoving the last bit of toast in his mouth and running off with a mouthful of unchewed bread.

You could feel a slight worry stab your gut, “Arthur, swallow your food before you run! You could choke!”

You watched as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, vigorously chewed, swallowed, and resumed his sprint upstairs. You dragged a tired hand through your hair and sipped at your coffee.

“Ender, now I know how you felt with us when we were kids. Kid’s gonna be the death of me.”

Your dad chuckled, sipping at his own coffee. “He’s a lot more tame than you four were. Techno and Wilbur weren’t that bad, you were just a tad bit more chaotic, and well, you remember how Tommy was. You’re just way too worried about him. Kids will be kids, they do crazy things and sometimes you can’t stop them. After the couple months of adopting Tommy, I just let him learn from his mistakes. You gotta let them learn from their mistakes or else they’re never gonna learn. It’s just something all parents have to do if they want their kid to grow as a person.”

“That’s tr- wait, parent? Arthur’s my protégé, not my kid.”

He smirked over his mug and raised an eyebrow at you, “really? Cuz you seem awfully worried about him.”

“Dad. I’m just worried that he’s gonna accidentally kill himself. What, can I not be worried about my protégé?”

“No need to get defensive, just trying to point out the obvious-”

“The obvious? Dad, I'm only twenty. I’m not adopting anyone anytime soon.”

“I adopted Techno when I was twenty three,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows, “besides, I think you’d be a great parent. You’re already a parental figure for Arthur anyways, so nothing would change too much.”

You were silent for a moment as you stared at him blankly. You never viewed yourself as a parental figure type before. Your current lifestyle of never leaving your workshop would never be able to accommodate having someone that depended on you. You could hardly take care of a goldfish (you still had Bubbles’ grave in the backyard at your house in L’manberg), let alone an entire human child. Sure, you babysat Fundy when Niki was too busy to, but that was your nephew and it was only for a day at a time. You planned on taking Arthur with you back to L’manberg (only if he wanted to of course), but you didn’t think that far ahead. He was probably going to have to stay at your house. You weren’t cut out to be a parent, you wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur.

Philza, noticing your slightly panicked zoned out state, quickly reassured you, “you don’t have to make a definitive decision right now, you have time. Just- just consider it. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to come to me. I think I’ve raised enough kids to know what I’m doing,” he chuckled to himself.

Your feathered wing dropped in relief as you gave him your best smile over your coffee mug. “Thanks Dad, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re a lifesaver.” Right after that, a particularly large burst of pain shot along the length of your nonexistent right wing and loitered in the area around the base of your wing. You bit your tongue at the sudden pain as you felt the muscles twitch.

“It’s no problem, I’ll always be here to help ya.” He smiled at you before his eyes snapped to something behind you. His smile dropped as he eyed you concerningly, pointing behind you. “Is- is it supposed to do that?”

You followed his eyes behind you to your prosthetic wing. The metal was twitching in sporadic bursts with varying intensity. You could hear the slight scratching of the metal clashing lightly against the wooden chair. Though it was very inconvenient, you supposed you should be glad that it was moving with the muscle impulses of the muscles you used in flight. Suddenly, you could feel a muscle directly on the base of your wing twitch as the metal moved in tandem with the impulse. The entire wing extended to it’s full length and knocked over the chair next to you. It stood erect for a bit before another twitch caused another spasm that worked its way throughout the length of your metal wing. This time, the wing reared back to your body and almost smacked you in the face. If you didn’t move, your eye would’ve probably been plucked out by one of the metal feathers.

Your flesh wing puffed up slightly in embarrassment as you turned to look back at the blond man in front of you, “technically? I mean, it’s just the sensors picking up on the twitching. I-I’ll get the chair.”

As you stood up, you grunted in pain as another spasm hit you. This time, your wing extended fully perpendicularly to your back causing the muscles in the base of your nubby wing to be pulled unexpectedly. Hissing, your hand shot to rub at the base of your wing. “Fuck that was a bad one.”

You heard the screech of wood on wood as Philza stood up and hurried over to you, dodging a couple of swings from your wing. His hands were hovering indecisively in front of him. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Take it off. Just- hhh, just take the sensors off. There should be seven of them, all on my back and shoulders.” You bent over with your hands gripping the table with each spasm of your muscles. You could feel the fabric of your shirt being pulled slightly from your body and the warmth of your dad’s hand brushing against your twitching skin as he hurriedly ripped the sensors off your skin.

Once they were all off, the metal wing drooped limply downwards, occasionally being moved slightly when what’s left of the flesh stiffened. “Good, can you unfasten the belts? There’s three of them, they’re a little- ah, a little tricky. After that, carefully pull the metal out through the slit in my shirt. Make sur- sure the sensors don’t rip.”

You sighed when you felt the wing being taken off from you and pulled through the slit in your shirt. Slumping back down into your chair, you reached a hand around to nead the skin on your back. You could feel the twitching slowly decrease in intensity, leaving a sore feeling in its wake. Your wing was placed gently onto the table in front of you, some parts hanging off the side. “Goddamn, I haven’t had an episode that bad since I grinded out making weapons for the War.”

You could hear water running before a glass was placed in front of you and Philza picked up the chair you knocked over and pulled it up next to you. He started to rub circles around the muscles around your wing. You sighed in content, feeling the knots in your back being relieved, “thanks. That feels good.”

“(y/n)?” A small voice said from the doorway of the kitchen. You shot up and bit back a groan when your sore muscles were moved. The young boy was leaning into the doorway with his hands on the sides and his mop of brilliant copper hair hung downwards. He looked worried and slightly scared.

“Hey Arthur, we can start your lesson soon, I just need a sec.”

“Are you okay?” His wavering tone and small voice combined with the tears slowly filling his eyes broke your heart. Eyes softening, you stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into a soft hug. “Of course I’m okay, you don’t need to worry buddy,” you deepened your voice and spoke dramatically, ‘(Y/n) Minecraft the Great, Conqueror of the Unknown’ will never be taken down!”

He gave a watery chuckle against your shirt and burrowed his head deeper into your shoulder, gripping you tighter. You reached up to stroke his hair and wrapped your left wing around him loosely, shielding him from the world with a protective feathery barrier. You could hear Philza picking up dishes from the table and quietly start to do the dishes. Despite the occasional twitch in your back and the phantom pain shooting down your wing, you directed all of your attention to Arthur. Eventually, he pulled away and wiped at his blotchy face. “Are you still up for the lesson?”

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, Philza interrupted him from behind you, “you’re not doing anything until you feel better (y/n).”

“Dad, honestly it isn’t that-”

“Don’t say it honestly isn’t that bad, we both know that’s not true. You’re on bedrest for today.”

You grumbled to yourself as you stood up and handed your glass of water to Arthur, who sipped at the contents giving you a small “thank you.” Nodding, you were escorted out of the kitchen by Philza and ushered to the couch. Once you were laying down on your stomach, he handed you a book and placed a hot water bottle on your back. Before you could stop it, a pleased hum left your lips as your body relaxed on the couch. “You’re staying here. I better not find you anywhere else when Arthur and I come home.”

You lifted your head up and stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “where’re you taking him?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes lit up slightly before he put on his stern facade once more. “Just to the village. I need to pick up a few things.”

“And you need him why…?”

“Well, I can’t go without someone helping me! I’m an old man after all.” He started to nudge Arthur towards the door and slipped his shoes on.

“You’re only thirty six, but whatever. Arthur, be good for my dad.”

“Alright (y/n), feel better soon!” He gave you a bright smile before he was pulled out of the house by Philza.

You tried to read, but the nagging worry for Arthur in the back of your mind never allowed for you to be immersed in your book. You knew Philza would never let anything happen to him, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever Arthur wasn’t in your line of sight. You supposed that it was a part of being an avian hybrid; you needed to constantly know if the child was alright. You tried to force yourself to go to sleep, but the pain prevented you from doing so, so you ended up mindlessly watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Before you knew it, your eyes closed and you were put in a light slumber.

You were awoken by the front door opening and laughter filling the house. You cracked open your crusty eyes and groaned as you sat up. You looked at the two with bleary eyes. Arthur was laughing at something Philza said as the blond looked over at you. “Hey hun, you feelin better?”

“Yeah a bit. What’d you get at the village?”

“Just some things for dinner. Arthur, wanna help me cook?”

Arthur, being the walking ball of sunshine that he was, nodded vigorously and started to drag the older man to the kitchen. Furrowing your brow, you called out to them, “do you want me to help?”

“No, stay there. Don’t come in!” Arthur’s excited voice shouted back to you, making you raise a brow at his words. You couldn’t lie, you felt nervous at his words. Just what did he have in store for you? Occasionally, you could hear yelps and bangs, which made you want to go into the kitchen even more. But you held off, trusting Philza.

About an hour and a half passed before you were summoned to the kitchen by an overly excited Arthur. Once in the kitchen, you were in slight awe. Spread out on the table was your favorite meal with the addition of fresh cookies left to cool on the stovetop. “All this for me?”

They smiled at you as Arthur ushered you to your spot at the table. “I… don’t know what to say. I- thank you guys.”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Arthur’s idea. I just helped.” Philza looked over at the blushing boy with a smile.

You reached over to ruffle his hair, “well, thank you Arthur. You know me too well, these are all my favorites!”

The boy bashfully smiled at you, “there’s something else too, but that’s for after dinner.”

You put a hand against your heart, touched, “Two surprises in one day? Ender, you’re spoiling me!” Arthur laughed at you.

Dinner went by fast with light-hearted laughter bouncing throughout the kitchen. The dinner and cookies tasted amazing, your taste buds felt like they were in heaven. After dinner, Arthur drug you to your room with an excited Philza following you two. On your bed sat your wing, but it had colorful things attached to the surface. Furrowing your brow, you looked closer to find various magnets sticking to the iron surface.

They ranged from the nonbinary flag to small mobs to little puns (your favorite ones were ‘olive you’ and ‘bird puns fly right over my head’). You could feel your smile widening at every magnet you saw, your wing fluttering in happiness. One of the magnets made you stop completely though as you stared at it with wide eyes. It was simple, but oh did it make your heart sing in joy and your eyes fill with tears. On the magnet, in big, bold letters were the words ‘world’s best parent’.

“Arthur…” You looked at him through blurred vision. He looked nervous, looking anywhere but at you and shifting on the balls of his feet. You lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug and wrapped your wing around him, making sure he was as close to you as possible.

Philza watched the exchange with a soft smile before he decided to let you two have some privacy. His heart was full of happiness as he walked downstairs to clean up the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his wings fluttering uncontrollably. He was ecstatic to officially welcome Arthur to his family. Sure, he had a small hand in leading Arthur over to the ‘world’s best parent’ magnet, but it was Arthur that picked out the magnet for you. He knew you were going to make a fantastic parent.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @yeiras-world @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @camisascam @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @jayistrash4 @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @appetiteofapeoplepleaser @lestrangenymph @kinismanditory @dragons-lurk-here @rinzyx05 @the-wandering-pan-ace @angelic-scent @shinipii @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander @izzydimensional @used-avocado @laura--444 @wing-non @lovely-echoo @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @mysteryartisticwriter @momo-has-a-gun @misfortunatem00n @w-0-r-n-n @v-kouya @kusuinko @cheybaee @dulcedippers @jaciahbabes

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #mcyt x reader #platonic #reader is gender neutral #tw: the warden #tw: swearing #tw: phantom pain

337 notes · View notes

purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH21

We’ve done it! We’re caught up to AO3! As such, I will be taking the next month off from posting to get AO3 updated and take a short break. I will resume posting on AO3 first, then tumblr right after starting on July 2, 2021! Can’t wait for you all to see the rest of this story! I have a lot of changes coming.

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 21: Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince

The next morning, Adrien’s stomach churned on the way to school. Chloe sat beside him adjusting her makeup while Gorilla was stopped at a red light. Everyone would know about their interview now. He expected backlash, but not like this. Pulling out his phone, he opened the article again.

Ladybug’s #1 Fan Deletes Blog After Scathing Final Video

“It’s like I don’t even know who she is anymore. I thought she was this amazing, genuine person, but in reality, she doesn’t care about any of us,” Alya said in the clip.

“Sources speculate this video was posted in response to the interview Ladybug did prior yesterday afternoon with the daughter of Paris’s own Mayor Bourgeois and the son of famous fashion mogul, Gabriel Agreste. In the interview, Ladybug denounced clout-chasers using her name to get attention, stating that such actions are “dangerous” and “need to stop.” The blogger behind the popular Ladyblog seemed to find fault with these comments and was akumatized shortly after the interview. It seems that bad blood has brewed between the blogger and the heroine even after the day was saved. The Ladyblogger posted one final video lashing out at the superheroine before deleting her blog altogether.”

“Ugh, stop reading that. Who cares?” Chloe groaned, swiping Adrien’s phone from his hands. “That brat doesn’t have brain cells if she believes a nobody like Lila over a superhero.”

“Alya devoted a lot of time to that blog, and she really looked up to Ladybug. She’s probably crushed right now,” Adrien said.

Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled out her lip gloss. “So let her be. She did this to herself by siding with that wannabe. If any of these losers have a brain, then Lila’s going to be finished today. I’ll be shocked if she’s even here.”

“Uh, I think we have other things to worry about.” Adrien pointed to the crowd waiting at the bottom of the stairs as their car rolled up to the curb. Their classmates had formed a wall between them and the inside of the school like a group of knights defending their queen. Lila was waiting safely inside, no doubt. She never liked getting her hands dirty unless she had to.

“You don’t think she’ll get away with this and make everyone hate us, do you?” Adrien asked.

“Everyone already hates me, Adrikins. I have nothing to lose.” Chloe snapped her compact shut and dropped it into her purse. “But it looks like we’ll have to finish the job ourselves. I’m going to need a spa day after working so hard.”

A pit tangled in Adrien’s stomach as they climbed from the car, the angry expressions of their classmates sending a chill up his spine. When they’d done the interview, Adrien expected everyone to be mad at Lila, not him. How did she weasel her way out of this one?

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” Alya said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where’s your bff Ladybug?”

“She’s got better things to do than worry about you losers,” Chloe said without missing a beat, completely undeterred by the mob in front of them. “Now, move, you’re blocking the stairs.”

“Ya know, I’ve always known you were evil, but this is really low, even for you.” Alya shook her head.

“Yeah! Tricking Ladybug is way uncool, Chloe,” Nino said.

“Yeah!” Several classmates echoed their agreement.

“Ladybug spoke the honest truth. All I did was ask the questions.” Chloe examined her nails.

“Stop pretending to be innocent. I overheard you and Adrien plotting to trick Ladybug into saying incriminating things about Lila, so don’t even lie to us.” Alya shot Adrien a glare that cut through his chest like a knife. “And what do you have to say for yourself? Teaming up with the wicked witch. We all thought you denounced Chloe’s actions, but I guess the silver spoon doesn’t fall far from the table.”

“Ugh, she’s delusional. Come on, Adrikins.” Chloe tugged his arm, but he remained rooted in place.

“No, she’s right. Chloe and I did conspire to trick Ladybug into admitting she and Lila were never friends,” Adrien said, and Chloe shot him a warning glare. “But that’s not actually what happened.”

“Really? So you two didn’t do a live interview where Ladybug said she doesn’t have any non-superhero friends?” Alya quirked a brow.

“Chloe and I originally planned to trick Ladybug, yes, but I didn’t feel right about it, so before the interview, I told Ladybug the truth. She went into that interviewing knowing what we were going to ask her, and she agreed,” Adrien said.

“What?” Chloe gasped.

“What Ladybug said was her choice. Lila’s lies have gotten out of hand, and she knows that better than anyone,” Adrien said.

“Why should we believe you?” Nathaniel grunted. “You teamed up with Chloe, so obviously you’re not the innocent sunshine boy everyone thinks you are.”

“Yeah, Chloe’s the worst!” Sabrina shouted, and Chloe’s gaze locked on her.

“How dare you! You’re not allowed to side with those losers. Get over here!” Chloe demanded, but Alya draped an arm around Sabrina’s shoulders.

“She’s done putting up with your crud, Chloe. We all are,” Alya said. “Lila hasn’t done anything to deserve all the hate from you or Marinette or Ladybug or anybody!”

“So, you losers are really going to believe some random girl who walked in off the street and started telling all of these amazing stories without evidence to back them up over a superhero?” Chloe cocked a hip. “You’re all more pathetic than I thought.”

“You’re the pathetic one! You two and Marinette have been plotting against Lila for weeks, haven’t you?” Alya shot back.

“Whoa, Marinette has nothing to do with any of this,” Adrien said. “This was all me and Chloe.”

“I heard you two talking. You said you were doing it for Marinette, or did I hear you incorrectly?” Alya challenged.

Adrien sighed. “No, we did say that, and I did do it for Marinette.”

“Ha!”

“But not because she told me to.” Adrien took a deep breath and turned to his classmates. “All of you, don’t you miss Marinette? Rose, don’t you miss when she would bring you extra fabric for your scrapbook projects? And Nathaniel, don’t you miss when she’d offer suggestions for your comic books?”

When they remained quiet, he continued, “Marinette left this school feeling hurt and empty. She felt like all of her friends turned their backs on her for a new girl. She poured her heart and soul into everything she did here, and Lila drove her away. Marinette knew the truth, so Lila threatened to take everything away from her. And she did which is why I teamed up with Chloe to stop her. Marinette doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. Not after everything she’s done.”

Everyone was quiet. Even Alya’s resolve seemed shaken, but she squared her shoulders.

“I can’t believe you when you’re standing next to her.” She nodded at Chloe.

Kim pursed his lips, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I dunno, it doesn’t make sense. Marinette would never do something like that. Adrien can be protective of people he cares about, but that doesn’t make him a bad guy.”

“Yeah, Marinette is like the nicest person in the world. She’d never go against someone without a reason, especially if it involves teaming up with Chloe,” Alix agreed.

“And Marinette was always looking out for everyone before Lila showed up,” Ivan said.

They moved to stand beside Adrien, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, I’m not siding with Chloe, even if Marinette was nice to me sometimes.” Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I’m done being your bff. You’ll have to get someone else to do your homework from now on,” Sabrina said with a humph.

Myléne flicked her gaze between the forming groups, curling her shoulders. “Sorry, but they’re right. Chloe is always being mean. I don’t really think Marinette is involved, but this seems very typical for Chloe.”

Max tapped his chin with one finger. “It’s true that this type of behavior is very typical of Chloe, but senseless cruelty is atypical of Adrien. However, acting in defense of a dear friend is a trait Adrien and Marinette have demonstrated on numerous occasions, and Lila’s stories can be outlandish at times. Then there’s the issue of the interview with Ladybu-”

“Oh, just pick a side!” Chloe groaned.

“I-” Max glanced between his friends. “I am choosing to abstain from taking sides until I have further evidence. Both Lila and Marinette are my friends.”

“Ugh, whatever. What about you two?” Chloe turned to Juleka and Rose.

Juleka mumbled something no one understood but moved to stand by Alix. Rose cupped a hand over her mouth, shifting between Alya and Adrien.

“Rose?” Adrien prompted.

Her shoulders curled, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to pick! I don’t want anyone to fight anymore.” She covered her face with a whimper, and Nino placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said.

“Nino?” Adrien asked hopefully, but his best bud lowered his head, red cap covering his eyes.

“Sorry, bro. I know you and Chloe have always been tight, but that doesn’t mean she and I have to be,” Nino said, taking a purposeful step toward Alya.

“Well, looks like more people are on my side than yours.” Chloe gloated.

“Hold up,” Alix said. “No one on this side picked you. We just believe Marinette is innocent, and Adrien was acting to protect her.”

“Yeah, you’re still the worst. We’re on Marinette’s team,” Ivan added. Chloe scowled but didn’t argue further.

A cold anger burned behind Alya’s eyes, the hurt she was feeling bubbling just beneath the surface. Adrien shivered. This wasn’t what he wanted when they did the interview. He wanted everyone to be free from Lila’s influence, especially Alya, but Lila’s hooks were in too deep. He never should have let things get this bad. If he’d acted sooner, then Marinette never would have left. Their classmates would be free, and no one would have to feel torn.

When the bell rang, their classmates dispersed, filing into the school one-by-one. Chloe fell into step beside Adrien.

“Now what?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I need time to forget about the fact that I’m Team Marinette.” Chloe shuddered.

“We’ve got enough people who at least believe Marinette is innocent, but we can’t get too cocky. That’s not the same thing as believing Lila is guilty,” Adrien said.

“We’ll figure something out. We just need time and a little precision,” Chloe said.

Adrien gulped, gripping the strap on his bag tighter. For their sake, he hoped they thought of something soon.

♪♫♪ Learn to Let Go ♪♫♪

“Take a deep breath in,” Macy said.

Marinette sat cross-legged on a bright blue yoga mat. Sunlight streaming in from the skylights warmed Marinette’s bare shoulders while soothing music played softly in the background. After the past few days, Marinette’s anxiety was at an all-time high, so a meditation session was in order. She followed Macy’s instructions, but it did little to relax her.

“Now, breathe out all of that negative energy. Let it all leave your body,” Macy continued. “Think of all the things in your life that make you happy and push out the things that don’t.”

Marinette took another breath, but the events of the last two days flashed vividly in her mind. The interview, Ladyblogger, the hurt look in Alya’s eyes when Ladybug captured her akuma, the video… Marinette breathed out.

Alya deleted the Ladyblog. Lila had done the impossible and turned Ladybug’s biggest fan into one of her biggest detractors. Granted, Ladybug might have helped by replacing Rena Rouge, but what was Marinette supposed to do? Working with Alya wasn’t an option after everything—it would have been too painful. Even still, Marinette would be lying if she said watching Alya lose faith in Ladybug didn’t rip another hole in her chest. Despite ending their friendship, Marinette still wished Alya the best, even if she was running with Lila.

“You’re not letting go of the negative energy,” Macy said.

Marinette blinked her eyes open and sighed, letting her posture fall. “Sorry, it’s been a rough few days.”

Macy turned to face Marinette with a smile. “Why don’t we talk about it instead? Maybe it will help if you get it all off your chest.”

“Maybe…” Marinette picked at a loose thread on her pants. She shifted to face Macy, chest tight. “It’s just…my old school. When I left, I didn’t want to look back, but it feels like no matter what I do, I can’t leave it behind.”

“Well, you had a lot of friends at your old school, right? It’s not easy to walk away from people you care about,” Macy said. “Especially when you know someone is using them.”

“I guess.” Marinette hugged her knees to her chest. “I thought I’d been gone long enough to not care anymore, but when Alya got akumatized, I just felt so sad.”

“Of course, you did! She was your best friend.” Macy pulled the tea table closer and prepared a cup. “It’s not easy to see someone you love in that much pain. You’re not a robot, Marinette. It’s okay to care.”

Macy pushed a cup toward her, but when she made no move to accept it, Macy changed the subject. “What about Adrien? Have you heard from him?”

Marinette flicked her gaze to her phone and shook her head. “No. Not since yesterday. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno.” Marinette shrugged. “He’s been texting me all the time lately, but now all of a sudden, he just stopped.”

“Boys are flaky like that sometimes. Give him time. I’m sure he’ll come around,” Macy assured her.

“I know, and I know it’s probably because of the interview he did with Ladybug.” Marinette sighed. “He probably thinks I’m mad at him.”

“How do you know?” Macy asked.

Marinette shifted to tuck her legs under the table and pulled her cup closer. She stared at her reflection in the tea and shrugged. “Because I thought the same thing when I changed schools behind his back. I thought he’d be disappointed.”

“Was he?” Macy asked.

“No, but I didn’t know that until he talked to me.” Marinette took a long sip. “I just feel bad that he did all of that for me. He shouldn’t have to deal with my problems.”

Macy surveyed her with a frown. “That’s something I’ve noticed about you, ya know,” she said thoughtfully. “You’re quick to shoulder everyone’s burdens when you think they need help, but you never expect anyone to do it for you.”

“I just want to be there for my friends, that’s all.” Marinette deflected as if it were no big deal, but Macy shot her a chiding look.

“Marinette, that’s very noble and sweet, but the same is true for you, ya know,” Macy said. “Everyone else’s burdens aren’t yours to bear. You’re going to break your back carrying so much weight around.” When Marinette remained quiet, Macy sighed. “Well, then I guess I have no choice.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette blinked up at her.

“If you’re running head-first into everyone’s problems, then I’m coming too,” Macy said. “I’m not going to let you do it all alone, and I don’t think Martin and Eliott will either. Adrien certainly isn’t.”

“But-”

“Marinette!” Macy threw her head back with a groan. “What I’m trying to say is… Your friends have your back, okay? So don’t worry about anything. We’re right behind you all the way.”

Macy’s smile was soft and genuine, and Marinette shivered, the fear and uncertainty floating to the surface. She leaned against Macy’s chest as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, and her friend patted her hair, whispering encouragement while Marinette sobbed. The dull ache that had plagued her all month lightened as each tear carried away her pain.

Macy didn’t let go until her whimpers quieted, and when Marinette sat up, the weight on her shoulders felt lighter. She took a deep breath and exhaled all of her worry just like Macy said. Even if she didn’t have her old friends anymore, she had new ones, and she had to admit—they were pretty hard to beat.

♪♫♪ Daylight ♪♫♪

Adrien faced his mother’s statue in the garden with a sigh. Things were messier now than they had been a few days ago, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. No matter what they threw at Lila, she always managed to wiggle out of it. Would they ever be rid of Lila Rossi? At least some of their classmates still believed in Marinette. She’d be happy to hear that she didn’t lose everyone at Francoise-Dupont.

He flicked his gaze down to his phone with a sigh. They hadn’t spoken since before the interview. Adrien couldn’t bring himself to after everything that happened with Alya. She was bound to know the truth now—that he’d teamed up with Chloe to stop Lila, despite how she’d refused. How much more pain had he caused her by trying to fix her problems? He was afraid to know. He’d betrayed her wishes, but hopefully she’d understand that his heart was in the right place. She was all his heart ever talked about these days. Avoiding her was agony, and his heart ached every time he looked at his phone.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” he murmured. He shifted to press his back to the statue, resting his cheek against her lap. “No matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. Sometimes I wish you were still here to tell me everything will be alright.”

He closed his eyes, listening to the birds chirping and the hum of the city beyond the walls. When had life gotten so complicated? He longed for freedom for so long, but he never imagined what it would cost. The pain he would endure. But he’d take this pain over isolation. He never wanted to be locked up again. One day he’d be free from his father’s control, then he and Marinette could be together whenever they wanted. One day…

“Adrien?”

He sat up, cheek sore from resting against the stone. When had he fallen asleep? Red and black spots filled his vision, awakening his heart with a jolt.

“Ladybug?” He blinked, rubbing his eyes as if expecting her to be a dream.

“Sorry, I was just passing overhead, and I saw you sitting down here. I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Stay. I could use the company.”

“That makes two of us,” she said, taking a seat beside him with a sigh. “We really made a mess of things.”

“Yeah…” Adrien rested his chin on his fist. “I don’t know how she gets away with it every time.”

Ladybug leaned her head back with a sigh. “Lila is crafty. She targeted Alya specifically because she knew she’d be her most powerful ally.”

“I just feel so bad. I was hoping we could finally make everyone see the truth, but it looks like we just made things worse. Marinette was right, I shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he said, “but I couldn’t help it. Not after everything Lila has done to her.”

“You really care about this girl, don’t you?” Ladybug smiled.

His cheeks warmed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, more than anything. But I feel like all I ever do is cause her trouble. She’s probably furious with me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ladybug said. “From what I know of her, a gesture like that would mean the world to her, and I’ll bet she’s not as angry as you think.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you wouldn’t go out of your way to help her if you didn’t share a special bond. You’re probably just as important to her as she is to you,” Ladybug said. “Talk to her. I think it will make you both feel better.”

Adrien pulled up his messages, thumb hovering over her name. Ladybug was right. The longer he avoided her, the longer they’d both feel this pain. Marinette would understand. He loved her, and he believed that she loved him too. Everything would be alright in the end so long as they had each other.

“Thanks, Ladybug,” he murmured.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She palmed her yoyo but hesitated, turning over her shoulder. “That girl is really lucky to have someone like you watching over her.”

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her yoyo and shot off into the rooftops. Adrien drummed his fingers on his thigh, then stood up and headed into the house. Gorilla was playing a game on his tablet in the foyer when Adrien found him.

“There’s somewhere I need to go.”

♪♫♪ Death of a Bachelor ♪♫♪

Marinette hummed to herself while waiting for the kettle to boil. She stole glances at her phone, but it stayed quiet. Maybe he was just trying to figure out what to say. He was bound to call sooner or later.

When the doorbell rang, her heart jumped up to her throat. She raced to the front door, hoping her clumsy footsteps didn’t betray her eagerness. Taking a composing breath, she opened the door.

His head was low, one hand shoved in his pocket, and he looked up at her through timid eyelashes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, his fear written all over his face. Marinette smiled, gesturing him inside, but he remained rooted in place.

“Marinette, I-”

“I know,” she said.

“You’re not mad?” he asked.

“Adrien,” Marinette sighed, giving him a gentle, scolding look. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are the sweetest boy I know. How could I ever be mad at you?”

Adrien stood stiffly in silence before his shoulders began to shake. He gripped fistfuls of her shirt, wetting her shoulder and nuzzling into her neck. Marinette held him, letting all of his worry wash between them like rain flowing down a roof. When clouds grew too heavy, they unloaded their burdens on everyone below, so Marinette stood under Adrien and let him rain.

“I’m sorry!” he cried. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay. I forgive you,” Marinette whispered, trailing her fingers through his soft hair. “I forgive you, Adrien.”

His sobs quieted, and he sat up, rubbing a hand across his red nose. The kettle on the stove screeched, and Marinette gestured him in again.

“Come on. I’ll make us some tea,” she said.

Adrien sat at the table, combing his fingers through his hair. She passed him a cup with a smile and took a seat beside him.

“I take it things didn’t go as planned with the interview?” Marinette asked.

“Not exactly,” Adrien grunted as if that were an understatement and took a sip. “Alya and some others still believe Lila is innocent, but there are a lot of us who think you are too.”

“Adrien.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.” He swirled his finger around the rim of the cup. “But I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. You mean the world to me, Marinette.”

Marinette’s heart fluttered, and she took a sip to hide her blush. The chamomile wasn’t strong enough to calm her nerves when he said things like that to her. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to pass out.

Setting her cup down, she cupped his cheek, tilting his chin to face her. “Thank you for looking out for me. It’s really sweet, but you don’t have to solve all of my problems. Sometimes it’s okay to just let things go.”

“Yeah…” Adrien sighed.

“Promise me you won’t get involved anymore. Lila will dig her own grave eventually. It’s better if we just let it go and move on,” Marinette said.

Adrien leaned into her touch, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

“I promise,” he murmured.

Her pulse quickened when those gorgeous green eyes softened on her. The air hung heavy around them, warming her skin from her cheeks to the very fingertips touching his skin. Goosebumps tickled the tiny hairs of her arms, Adrien’s magnetic pull drawing her in.

Marinette slipped her fingers behind his neck and tugged ever-so-gently. Adrien leaned forward, eyelids hooding. His lips parted, warm breath swirling against her own. Marinette closed her eyes, tilting her head to finally give respite to the tension that had been building between them for weeks.

But relief never came.

Her father threw open the front door, and the sparks between them crackled. They jolted away from each other, clumsily grasping for their cups as her dad waltzed in with a fresh loaf of bread. He read the tension between them, and undoubtedly, noticed their rosy cheeks.

“Am I interrupting something?” His eyes narrowed.

“No, Papa!”

“No, sir. No way.” Adrien took a long sip and cleared his throat.

“Are you sure? I was just bringing up some fresh bread to go with dinner. I can leave if you two are-”

“Papa!” Marinette growled.

“Actually, I should get going. My father will want me home soon.” Adrien stood up. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Yeah, no biggie,” Marinette insisted.

Adrien hesitated, flicking a quick glance at her dad, then lifting her hand to his lips. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles before fleeing out the front door. Marinette sat back, letting out a ragged breath.

“I ruined a moment, didn’t I?” Her dad winced.

Marinette offered him a smile, jumping up to place a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not the first time.”

“Is everything alright?” Marinette’s mother came through the door. “I passed Adrien on the stairs, he was redder than the strawberries on the cake we baked for Manon’s birthday.”

“I interrupted a moment,” her dad confessed.

“They were having a moment?” her mom gasped excitedly.

“Maman!” Marinette groaned.

“My little girl’s growing up so fast. She’s already got her first boyfriend. Before we know it, they’ll be bringing their kids over for Sunday brunch.” Her dad rubbed the tears forming in his eyes.

Marinette covered her face, willing this all to be a dream, but alas, she couldn’t fly away.

“Do you think Adrien would ever take an interest in baking?” her dad asked, and Marinette let out a moan.

“I’m going to my room. Call me when dinner’s ready,” she said.

“Next time Adrien comes over, we promise not to interrupt!” her mom called as she made her way up the stairs.

“That’s enough!”

“Should we invite him to dinner?” her dad asked.

“Good night!”

Marinette slammed her trap door shut and flopped against it with a sigh. She’d almost kissed Adrien—again! And after confessing how important they were to each other. Did this mean they were dating? Neither of them said the l-word, but maybe sometime soon…

She covered her face and giggled. Her boyfriend Adrien. She could get used to that.

#mdcspr #mdcsp #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

92 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Didn’t Know Where Else To Go.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: violence, assault, death, mentions of smut at the end and curse words

Requested: Nope

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes- they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “...didn’t know where else to go...” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

Summary: Sebastian Stan: a mobster boss. Everyone in the city hated him. When he meets Y/N, a new bartender at his favourite bar, she makes it clear that she also doesn’t like him. What changes?

Author’s Note: Hey peeps! The aforementioned prompt is something I read on Tumblr and really liked it. So I decided to write a fic loosely based on it. I hope you guys enjoy this! (This has been in my drafts for a long time, I’m currently working on 2 requested fics)

---

Sebastian POV:

"Boss, there is someone at the door."

"Send them in," I commanded, looking up from my book. The person who walked in with him was… instantly recognizable. My jaw dropped— she had been crying. Her pupils were dilated, she was taking short, fast breaths and her voice was frail. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't know where else to go."

With that, she did the most YA-Novel-Female-Protagonist thing she could do— faint.

It all began 7 months ago. The person who was at the door was Y/N Y/L/N, a bartender at one of my favourite bars ever in the city. The thing is, when we first met, she hated me. Let me take you back 7 months.

Flashback:

I entered the bar, smirking when everyone turned to look at me. They looked away just as quickly, their voices becoming hushed. I looked around, stopping when I saw the bartender. Whoa, this was someone new and damn was she cute. Smiling, I walked over and sat down in front of her.

"Hey, was— oh. What will you like, sir?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Come on, why does everyone do the same thing? What is it about me?" I joked, winking. "Um, the fact that you're a fucking mobster and have been terrorizing the city for the past few years and would kill anyone if they question you? Uh, I don't know, actually," she snapped.

I froze. The woman seemed to really hate me. Here I was, thinking if I buttered her up enough she'd come home with me. I told her my order and looked away from her. "So, why here?" she asked me as she prepared my drink. "I really like this place, I've been here before loads of times. I don't plan to stop," I shrugged.

"Ugh, just my luck," she mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Look, you don't have to be fucking rude, okay?" I retorted. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Shoot me? That's what you like to do, right? Kill people. Innocent people, let me be precise. No wonder everyone in the city except your goons hate you."

With that, she slammed my glass on the counter and stormed away from me, going to serve another customer. I was left staring at the glass, my figure shaking with repressed anger. She knew damn well I never laid hands on innocent people. No one in the city hated me.

Or did they?

The shaking stopped. What if she was right? I mean, she was much closer to the civilians than I was, what if they all hated me? "Uh, excuse me," I called out, hating how my voice cracked slightly. She glanced at me. "What do you want?"

"Answers."

"Ask the questions first," she huffed. "Does… does everyone really not like me?" I asked her. She stopped cleaning the glass, set it down and looked straight at me. "Yes. They don't like you. You're a mobster boss, dude! Have you seen films with mobster bosses? All of them, evil as hell. See how everyone in the bar became quiet when you came in?"

She had a point. "You know I would never lay a hand on innocent people," I defended myself, glaring at her. "Look, I'm sorry but we can never be too careful. What if you snap one day? What if you go rogue? Everyone lives in fear. They're afraid of you. And it's not like I can change everyone's mindset all at once."

"I guess you're right," I muttered, downing my drink in one go. "Hey, Mr Stan?" I looked up. "Y/N Y/L/N. I shouldn't have snapped at you," she apologized quietly, holding her hand out. "Doing this to get onto my good side?" I teased and she laughed.

"Come on, man! Doing this to show people you're not all you seem to be." I took her hand and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Y/N." She nodded and went back to cleaning the glasses. "Can I get one more drink?"

"I hope you didn't drive here."

"I came on foot, actually. My house is just down the block." She gasped, startling me. "Mr Stan, giving your address away to strangers? How irresponsible of you!" I couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I trust you to not do anything bad." I spent another 2 hours there, chatting with Y/N.

She was a really fun person to be around. She had completed her education but was searching for jobs. In the meanwhile, she had decided to work here.

By the time I was done drinking, I was too tipsy to even walk. "K, I'm goin'," I slurred, standing up. "Mr Stan, don't— oof," Y/N hissed as I fell off the chair in my intoxicated state. She rushed around the bar and helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You can't walk in this state."

"I need to go home," I whined. "As it turns out, you've stayed long enough and now it's closing time. Let me get my coat." She dumped me on the chair and went to fetch her coat. I admired her from afar.

She wore a mini-skirt that was flirtatiously snug around her thick thighs and a tank top. When she wore the coat, it extended past the skirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was looking very sexy in the dim light. "Damn," I whispered under my breath, smirking.

When she returned, she helped me stand. I draped an arm around her shoulder and we stepped out of the bar. "Okay, which direction?" I pointed to the right and we proceeded to walk. "Have you ever gotten this drunk before? Because it's obvious you can't handle booze."

"Not really, I usually have to stay sober for my job. We need real intellectuals in the mob biz, you can't have drunk idiots running a mob," I laughed, finding it hard to keep myself upright. Shouldn't have drank so much…

"Right now, sir, you are a drunk idiot," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, I will take that as a compliment. Plus, you can just call me Sebastian, it's okay." She shook her head and silence fell between us. "Tell me when we're there," she spoke quietly as I felt a headache coming.

"Being drunk sucks," I pouted, "I'm not even having a good time! It hurts everywhere—" "Probably because you fell off the chair." "—and my head hurts! I don't understand why people like to be so drunk." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You are seriously reminding me of my ex-boyfriend. He couldn't handle drinks either and I always had to babysit him when he got back home drunk," she muttered. "You can babysit me anytime!" I said cheerfully. "You're drunk, Sebastian, stop flirting with me."

"But you're so cute."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you."

"And se— we're here! That's my house!" She stopped in front of my house and rang the bell. "Is anyone at home or do I have to tuck you in?" she joked. "Nah, my best buddies and right-hand-men live with me. One's name is Chris—" Just at that moment, Chris opened the door.

"Wha— Sebastian? Are you drunk?"

"Sorry sir, I didn't know he couldn't handle drinks. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new bartender at Red Tavern." With that, she passed me to Chris. "Thank you for bringing him home, Ms Y/L/N. It's not your fault he got intoxicated, he should've known when to stop. He didn't cause trouble, did he?"

"Oh no, of course not, sir. He's fun to be around," she commented, gesturing towards me. I grinned. "Please, he's really not, you don't have to lie. Anyway, thank you so much again! Do you want a lift home? I can ask Anthony to drive you home."

"That would be great, thanks. My house is in the opposite direction, it's a bit far…"

"Absolutely no problem. Anthony!"

A few minutes later, my other friend, Anthony Mackie came downstairs, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah— oh, Sebastian is— damn." He tried to hold his laughter in. "Yeah. While I get him to his room, do you mind dropping her home? That's Y/N, she brought him home." Y/N waved at him.

"Of course, I don't mind. Thanks, Y/N, for taking care of our boss." She shook her head, waving her arms in dismissal. "Absolutely no worries, sir." They walked away, closing the door behind them. "She's cute, right?"

Chris blinked at me. "You have a crush on her!" he guffawed. "Duh, man. Did you even look at her? Girl was oozing sexiness," I smiled in fond memory. "Okay this got weird fast, I'm just gonna take you to bed." He got me to my room, placed me on the bed and left.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

End Flashback.

"Y/N!" I yelled, jumping out of my seat to catch her in time. "Get a suite ready," I barked angrily at a few people, who immediately ran in fear. "And you, get me some water and a blanket." The person nodded shakily and ran out of the room. I picked Y/N up and carried her to the couch, laying her down. I sat next to her, checking her temperature.

Oh no, I needed a doctor. I took out my phone and called my personal practitioner but before I could speak, Y/N coughed. "Y/N," I whispered, cutting the call. "Sebastian, it hurts," she moaned. "Don't worry, doll, I'm calling my doctor. Stay here tonight."

"I don't have anywhere else to go." I froze. "Your house?" I asked. "That's… that's where I got attacked. I can't go back," she cried. "Wait, just— just take rest, we'll talk when you're better. Get some sleep, I'm calling my doctor." I called him again, glancing at Y/N when she took my other hand and closed her eyes.

I chatted with him for five minutes; he said he'd take half-an-hour to get to my place. "Damn it," I grumbled, keeping my phone on the table. Just then, one of my servants returned with the glass of water and the blanket. I thanked her and she left the room, so it was just me and Y/N.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you please get up for me?" She opened her eyes. "What?" Oh God, she was getting weaker. "Have some water." As soon as I held the glass of water in front of her, she freaked out. Screaming, she pushed the glass out of my hand and it fell to the floor with a 'clang', the water spilling everywhere.

"No, no water, no… no…" She sobbed, pulling at her hair. "Okay, okay, no water! No water! Y/N, calm—" I grabbed her hands and clutched them in mine. She stopped sobbing; looked at our hands and then at my face. I brought her hands to my lips, softly kissing them. "No water. It's okay, Y/N, you're safe with me."

"Safe," she breathed heavily, "That's what he said to me before he poisoned me!" Who was he? Okay, she was getting insanely paranoid now… "I'm not like him, Y/N, I don't wanna hurt you," I whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes, you are! You both can't handle drinks!" she yelled, her tears beginning to flow once more. "Wait." My nostrils flared. Her ex-boyfriend, he harmed her? "Y/N, please, this is not good for your health, why don't you try to calm down? Breathe, baby girl, please," I pleaded.

She seemed to momentarily come to her senses. "Sebastian…" Without warning, she sat up and flung herself in my arms. And for once, I didn't mind holding her close. "You're okay with me. I'm not him. I am not going to harm you, Y/N, trust me," I mumbled into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I trusted him," she sobbed, "And he tried to kill me." This time, my anger won. I vowed to myself, if I don't kill her ex boyfriend in the next 24 hours— "I am nothing like him. We may have one shared trait," I rolled my eyes at its stupidity, "But I am nothing like him. For once, I wouldn't harm you even in my dreams."

Her sobs started to subside. "That's it, doll, don't cry. I'll keep you safe. Even if I die trying, I'll let no harm come to you." For 7 long months, I missed her. I missed her a bit too much. Every waking moment of mine was spent thinking about the beautiful bartender.

She was in my dreams. She was constantly on my mind. I longed for the moment when I could meet her again and ask her out. Alas, that time never came.

A week after we met, I had to go to Romania for some important work. I spent three months there and when I was back, Y/N was no longer working at the bar. She found a new job and I had no way of locating her anywhere.

I knew Anthony dropped her home that one time but when I asked him, he told me she had asked him to drop him off somewhere else. From there, he said, she was going to walk alone. He offered to drop her home again, but she refused. Having no choice, he returned without knowing where she lived.

That resulted in me not knowing where she was. I was heartbroken and told myself to stop thinking about her. I became more and more engaged in work, I became moody, temperamental and cold-hearted. Everyone started fearing me more now.

And I finally saw what Y/N meant.

What if you snap one day?

That day was closer than I thought. Even though I became a much more accomplished mobster, there was one thing I couldn't do even if I tried— forget about the love of my life.

"Seb, it hurts." I was brought back to the real world. "What hurts, baby girl?" I whispered, pulling her closer. "Head. Stomach. Legs. Arms. Heart." I smiled sadly at the last word. "I'll help you heal, Y/N, you don't have to go anywhere until you're better." She nuzzled into my neck. "I'd like that."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out, it was probably the doctor. Sure enough...

"Mr Stan? Oh, you have a guest." I tried to shift to make space for the doctor, but Y/N whimpered. "It's okay, Mr Stan, she clearly feels safer with you here." I placed Y/N on my lap, covering her with the blanket. "This is my friend, Y/N," I spoke fondly, though I really wanted to add 'girl' in front of 'friend'.

"Nice to meet you, dear, I am Dr Greenwood." With my help, he quickly ran some tests on her. "Hm, she has a fever, her heart rate is very fast and that's not good. Is there any other problem you're facing?" She nodded. "Headache and stomach ache."

"She claims to be poisoned," I added. "Oh dear me! I need to run a blood test, will you be so kind as to extend your right arm?" She did as he told her and he quickly took some blood. "Will she be fine?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, she seems to be doing okay currently, which means the poison hasn't affected her yet. How about I get back to you by the morning? Just keep an eye on her and if something happens, bring her to the hospital."

"Okay, doc. Thank you." He nodded and got up. "Bye!" Y/N called out weakly; he smiled at her and left, closing the door behind him. "You've got to tell me everything, doll," I whispered, putting her down on the couch. She lay down and I sat on the floor near her head.

"Okay, I will tell you. It was a few hours ago," she began quietly, "I was at home, watching the seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine when someone rang the bell. When I opened the door, my ex burst into the room forcefully. He pushed me."

My breathing sped up. "He pushed you? How dare that asshole—"

"Let me finish?"

"Go ahead, love, I'm sorry."

"Right, so he was very very drunk. And he was talking about how I broke his heart by breaking up with him and how he was so mad at me that he wanted to kill me. In front of me, he popped open the bottle of beer with him and poured an entire bottle of poison in it! An entire bottle! Then he attacked me and pinned me to the couch, forcing me to drink the poisoned beer."

"How did you escape?" I whispered. "By kicking him in the balls. Unfortunately, I ended up gulping down a sip and panicked. Seeing no other choice, I pushed him as hard as I could and he collided with the table. He hurt himself and became unconscious. I ran out of the house to the first place I could think of— here."

"I'm glad you came to me, Y/N, you'll be perfectly safe here. Our security is top-notch," I chuckled. She smiled, too. "Where are Chris and Anthony?" she noticed. "They're in Romania. They decided to stay back."

"Wait, that's where you were this whole time? You didn't come to the bar again and until then, I found another job so I quit. I thought you would never come back. I missed you a lot," she pouted. "I missed you, too. I was actually in Romania for 3 months and when I came back, I couldn't find you. I didn't even know where you lived, I didn't know where to look."

"What matters is now we're back together again!" she squealed. "You should rest for a while," I muttered, running my fingers through her hair. I checked the time, it was almost 2 am. Laughing when she yawned, I sat up. "I guess I should."

"Come, I'll take you to your room." I stood up with Y/N still in my arms. "I don't wanna be alone," she worriedly spoke, "What if he's awake and comes looking for me and finds me here?"

"No one is finding you here," I sighed, "I'll stay with you, okay? Just tell me your address." Without thinking, she narrated her entire address and looked up at me with sleep-hooded eyes. I walked into the suite my people had readied for her and placed her down on the bed.

"I'm right here, just relax and try to sleep," I crooned, running my fingers through her hair. She immediately closed her eyes, which relieved me because she was listening now. When her soft snores filled the room, I heaved a breath and got up. Covering her with a blanket, I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

---

"This is the place," I spoke to myself, stopping my car under the building. I got out and entered, taking the elevator to the sixth floor where she lived. When I reached her apartment, I noticed that the door was still open. I walked in, my gun ready as I looked around the place. Wow, Y/N maintained this place well.

I searched every room thoroughly, starting with the living room, then the kitchen and then the two bedrooms. Shit, did the asshole leave? Y/N told me she left him in the living room. I was about to leave when I heard belching coming from one of the bathrooms. I opened the door to the one closest to me, only to see someone puking in the toilet.

"Ew," I whispered and he looked up. "What the fuck—" He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the toilet paper, "—are you doing here?" I realized he was still under the effects of heavy drinking. "Y/N told me everything," I sneered, hiding my gun behind my back.

"She knows you? Pfft, I knew she was a whore, why would she leave me for a goddamn mobster? Everyone in the city hates you," he jeered back. "Um, why don't you consider this? You're an abusive and possessive asshole and Y/N left you because you obviously were treating her badly?" I snapped.

"Don't get smart with me," he snarled, taking out a knife from his back pocket. "Oh," he snorted when I glanced at the knife, "Yes, I came prepared to cut that bitch up if she tried to fight back." The language he was using to describe Y/N was getting to me now.

"Enough!" I stated firmly, so firmly that even he paused. "I will not have you talking about Y/N like this, you are crossing a line." He returned to laughing. "Care too much about one of your sluts? What is she, your girlfriend?" Okay, he didn't have to rub it in…

"I said—'' I whipped out the gun and pointed it at him, "—enough. If you don't stop badmouthing Y/N—" He interrupted me again by laughing. "Of course, you're gonna shoot me. You like to murder innocent people, that's all you are! A bloody, fucking cold-hearted murderer! Y/N would never leave me for a guy like you! She is your slut!" he spat.

"Are you listening to yourself?! You tried to fucking kill Y/N because she couldn't put up with your abusive ways and your disturbing habits! I do not kill innocent people and I don't plan on killing them ever," I growled, "However, I do make exceptions for abusive boyfriends who treat my friend wrong!"

With that, before he could retort, I fired three bullets at him. All three hit him in the chest and I watched as he fell against the floor, instantly dead. Some of his blood sprayed on my clothes and face, which made me scrunch up my face in disgust. But as I watched his lifeless body on the floor, a smile bloomed on my face.

Y/N was safe.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror, washed my face and decided to go back. But before I could, I realized that Y/N would be spending some time with me and would need her necessities. So before leaving, I packed two full-sized travel bags with her clothes, electronics, footwears, toiletries and sanitation products; anything I deemed necessary for day-to-day living.

Soon, I left the apartment with the bags to go back to Y/N.

---

"Seb?"

I looked up from my book as Y/N sat up, yawning and clutching her head. "Y/N, the results came back, you're going to be fine," I told her happily, sitting down next to her. "Really?" A smile bloomed on her face. "Yes! Dr Greenwood said you didn't swallow too much poison and that you will most likely excrete the amount you swallowed." She nodded.

"That's great news! I'm glad he brought one of those cheap poisons instead of the deadly ones," she giggled. Just his mention made my temper snap. "Oh, don't even talk about that jerk," I snarled, "I took care of him last night and now he won't be bothering you anymore."

She blinked at me. "You killed him, didn't you?" she deadpanned and I blushed. "I mean— I didn't—" I stammered but gave up when she raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I killed him," I muttered, looking at my lap. When she placed her hand on my cheek, I turned to look. "I'm not mad at you. Bitch had it coming."

I burst out laughing at her word choice, which made her smile, too. All of a sudden, she leaped up and wrapped her arms around my neck, catching my lips in a kiss. I stopped laughing and put my arms around her waist, kissing back. Had this just happened? Was she kissing me?

"I love you, Sebastian," she murmured upon pulling away, straddling my lap. I kept the book away and pulled her closer. "Really? I love you, too." She snorted. "Kinda obvious, you killed a man for me. I wasn't going to make a move on you but now I'm sure."

"Hm, my intelligent sweetheart," I grinned, leaning forward to kiss her again. The problem was solved and all was well. "What are your plans for the day?" she asked me, trailing a finger down my face, jaw, neck and chest. "Hm, don't have any," I smirked, pulling her closer.

"Wanna stay and… have some fun?"

"Boy, do I?"

Y/N laughed loudly as I flipped us over, laying down on top of her. Her laughs soon transitioned into moans as I attacked her neck and jaw with kisses.

We did have fun.

A lot of it.

A bit too much of it.

But who cares?

I was finally with the love of my life and everything was good.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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maemi324 · 3 years

Text

The Love of The Mob Boss

hello there friends! here I am part two of the Mafia story. Well it’s a prequel. I wouldn’t have thought to make one if it wasn’t for @dorki-c so thank you! Also! I have @combat-wombatus and @lucyheartfilias-wife for taking a look at this story and editing! You can read part one here: mafia

Warnings: Kidnapping, gun violence, minor character death? i think that’s all. if anyone see’s that there needs to be another warning, please let me know and I’ll add it to the tag list.

@butterscotchbaku and @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku I hope you like part two! Enjoy!

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.

Today was just like any other day. The 3pm sun was shimmering without a cloud to be seen in the sky.

You eyed your nails, hardly paying attention to the rhythmic pounding of the dryer as you perched on the washing machine. You’d left your washing until the last minute, not having much of a will to do it earlier in the week. Thankfully, this was the last load. You smiled, faintly pleased; all before mom came home too. You glanced up from your nails to the open door that lead into the garage, summer air gently rustling your skirt.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught your attention, hopping off of the machine.

It was a bit early for your mom to be home, but you didn’t think much of it. Maybe today was just well executed productivity for the both of you.

The dryer slowed to a stop, as you grabbed your basket to fill up, footsteps approaching from behind you.

“Hey mom! You’re home a bit early!” you called, fingers flying to your lips as some static from one of your socks zaps you rather harshly.

“Sorry to disappointed,” a deep voice called, “ But it’s not your mom” “Oh, hey.”

A strange sort of disappointment flooded you; it was only your dad. He was hardly in the picture while you were growing up, though managed to stick around like some fungus even after the divorce. He usually only came over to beg your mother for some cash, just a little to get gas even, the rest was going towards rent.

You never really stuck around long enough to see the result of whether mom did or didn’t give into him, finding more interesting topics in your books or literally anything else.

You closed the dryer with a bump of your hip, adjusting the laundry pile so it was equally distributed within the basket.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here for the usual. Though I do need some help. Could you come shine a light? I think there’s something wrong with my car. I figured I’d stop here rather than on the road”

You sighed, but set down the basket, so much for getting all the folding done, “Yeah sure, I’ll be right there” You walk into the garage, spotting your father, dressed casually with his hands in his pockets. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and (H/C) stubble that seemed to be growing out.

He gives you an awkward smile that you pay no heed to, walking towards one of the shelves where you kept a few extra flashlights, just in case.

That was your mistake.

Calloused hands grab your arms, shifting to hold them with one hand as he drags you to the car.

“Wait- what the hell?! What are you doing- Let go of me!” Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing through your ears, everything was far too loud and yet so muffled and clear. You struggled against him, kicking back against his shin, but it only gave him a better grasp on you as his left arm grabbed you around your waist, his right fiddling with some old rope he found on the ground.

“Shh, stop fighting- Stop! This will all be so much easier if you just hold still!” he wasn’t making any sense, what would be so much easier?! You didn’t care, you didn’t want anything to do with him and whatever sick joke he was playing.

“Mom! Someone! Anyone! Help me!” you shouted in vain, the rough material of the rope burning as he pulled tight around your wrists, tossing you into the passenger side of the car, buckling you in.

“Dad, please, what are you doing?!” tears blurred your vision, fear clogging your judgement. You wriggled in your seat as he closed the car door. Getting in on his side, he buckled and backed out.

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of a warehouse somewhere downtown a few hours later. The jab of a gun in your back reminds you to keep quiet, your fathers free hand opening the warehouse door just big enough to get you inside.

It’s dark inside, except for the sunlight that enters through the various windows scattered about. Aside from a few various, but large, rows of crates, boxes and a stack of fold out chairs, the warehouse is empty.

A whine tears itself from your fear clogged throat, your palms becoming more clammy in the cool air. The five snaps of the fold out chairs being set up had you wincing at each sound.

Your father gestures towards a chair with the gun, another involuntary whine escaping. You sit down in the one furthest from him, though with the gun in his hand it hardly matters.

“Now you just take it easy,” he says, settling into one of the other chairs, “You’re gonna help your old man with something. Gonna be over before you know it alright? I promise. Just sit here and let Daddy do all the talking alright sweetie?”

Anger settled over you, arms tense as it flows through your veins; no it wasn’t alright at all! This was insane, something that would happen in a bad dream! This had to be a bad dream.

The waiver in his hand, the gun still aimed directly at you, had your dreams crushed as reality continued to play out. You could only watch him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You can be as mad at me as ya like, I deserve it, and you can chew me out about it once it’s done. I promise”

Another empty promise, just like all the promises to stop gambling, like all the times he promised to stop spending so much money on...whatever it was. All lies

The door to the entrance creaked loud enough to send ice down your veins, your heart beating in a tizzy as three forms entered the room. All three were dressed nicely, suits you come to notice, as they approach. Your father quickly put the gun down, putting it away and out of sight.

The first one had a dark blue tie, pristine and perfect, taking an easy seat in front of you and your father. He took out a cigar, holding it out for the other man- red tie- to light it for him. The last to take a seat was a man with a white tie, broad shoulders set in perfect posture.

Your father bowed his head, though you kept your eyes trained on blue tie.

Smoke spills from the man's lips as he pulls them into a slightly amused grin. “So (L/N), here we meet again. So nice to see you” his grin doesn’t meet his eyes, sarcasm laced in smoke.

“A-and y-you as well, Sir” your father pathetically stammers out, raising his head again.

“Could I hope to think that you have what you owe?” he takes a deep drag, blowing the putrid smoke towards you. You scrunch up your nose in disgust.

“N-no sir, h-however, I have a proposition for you, if you’ll please hear me out” he quickly gets up from his chair, the henchmen watching his move like hawks. He places an unwanted hand on your shoulder.

“I’m offering you my daughter, just until I can pay you back, which will be soon. You can do whatever you want, just upon my last payment, she comes back home with me, unharmed” His eyes were wide, smile stretched wide enough to hurt.

“What?!” You whirl around towards your father as best as you could, shock settling over your form. Whatever they wanted?! That wasn’t for him to offer!

Blue tied man stood up, walking over towards you. The hand on your shoulder slipped off, though its weight almost increased in its absence. A warm finger slipped it’s way under your chin, tilting your tear stained face up towards him.

His eyes were cold, though filled with a pleased tint that turned your stomach.

More tears leaked down your cheeks and he cooed, thumb swiping over it. As he pulled his hand away from you he licked his thumb.

“I think we can work with that”

Your tears fell faster now, as hiccups left you, how could this be happening. The hand returned to your shoulder, “Don’t worry sweetie, you’ll be just fine. It’ll all be just fine, thank you so much sir-”

Bang!

The sound echoed throughout the room, sunset light blocked by three shadows.

In walked in a young man not much older than yourself, bright green eyes, and matching hair, steeled with determination, gun in his hand. He was dressed in a black vest, green long sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows and dark pants.

The second shadow belonged to a man with blonde hair and mean red eyes, a snarl on his lip as his gun aimed towards the red tied man.

The last belonged to a man with red and white hair, parted perfectly down the middle, the red side having a bright blue eye, the white having a brown one. His gun was aimed towards the white.

The blue tied man seemed surprised, blowing out another puff of smoke. He steps back from you, offering his most charming smile, “Ah, Deku and Friends. So sorry this warehouse is occupied. I’m afraid whatever business you have here is either not here, or should be dealt with elsewhere. I’m afraid You’ve caught me right in the middle of business.”

What? That couldn’t be right...The Deku? Japan’s highest ranking mafia leader? Direct descendant of All Might?! What on Earth could he want? What sort of messed up deal did your father make?!

The other colored ties stood up from their positions, guns aimed at the newcomers. The green eyed one- Deku- stepped forward, gun held carefully in his hand.

“Actually, my business is with you, actually, with this lady here,” he stated, “She’ll be coming back with me to her mother.” His statement left no room for argument, no room for misinterpretation.

“Mom?” You turned towards them further, hope igniting in your chest for the first time in what felt like hours. He nods at you, a smile that reaches his eyes.

“Just right outside,” he reassures.

“With you?” Blue tie asks, eyes wide, “ What audacity you have Deku. Even amongst our kind, business doesn’t work this way-”

Bang!

With a shriek you turn your eyes away, scrunching them shut, the thud of the red tied man echoing over and over and over-

It all turns into gunshots, two more you recognize, but it feels as though they keep going, your eardrums ringing. There are hands suddenly at your shoulders, gentle and soft. You recognize them as others take off the rope at your wrists.

You hesitantly open your eyes, immediately throwing yourself forward into your mothers arms. You sob, deep within your chest as she carefully wraps her arms around you, her whispers barely sounding through the groans of pain echoing throughout the room.

“It’s alright now, honey. It’s alright, I’m here now” She says, her own eyes watery. She pets your hair carefully, glancing up as a slightly scarred hand is placed gently on your mothers shoulder.

Looking up, your eyes catch your hero, Deku.

“Dynamite, will you handle the rest of this? I’m going to escort Mrs.(L/N) and (Y/N) back,” He says, though whatever answer this Dynamite has is lost on you, your focus fading in and out.

Deku beckoned the way forward with a gesture of his arm, a gentle insistence to get moving. You blinked and suddenly you were sitting in a car, buckled in next to your mother, your knuckles turning white with how hard you gripped. She made no expression of pain, only gripping your hand just as tight.

You blink again and you appear to be in a room, sitting on a soft, dull, mint green couch. The room itself is unimpressive, looking to be more like an office break room than anything, walls a soft cream color, the floors- although soft- an unimpressive soft blue. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a fridge and some counter space that had a rather large kettle and two boxes of various packets.

Down on one knee is this Deku, eyes carefully scanning over you as his mouth moves, saying words that you’re slowly being able to process again.

“...Think she’s coming back, (Y/N)? (Y/N), can you hear me? You don’t have to say anything, just nod if you can hear me” his voice is so soft, though solid, not even a waiver to it. It’s so nice to listen to, you find yourself nodding. The smile that you are rewarded with fills your stomach with a comforting warmth.

He adjusts so he’s sitting on the coffee table, offering you a cup of what smells like warm tea.

“Careful, it’s a bit hot. Also a little on the sweet side, though sweet is good for shock, or so I hear,” he rambled, eyes widening as he nearly spilt the drink in his animated gestures.

You outstretched your slightly shaking hands, only vaguely recognizing that there was a soft cream blanket draped over your shoulders. You carefully take the cup, Deku only letting go once he’s sure you had a good hold of it. A sip has warmth you didn’t know you were missing flood through your system, the sweet taste bringing back some awareness.

He lets you take a moment to sit back and process everything that just happened, he and your mother sipping on their own cups of tea. The shaking decreased as you sipped your tea, though you had an inkling it would be a while longer until it was completely gone. You could still feel yourself fading in and out of focus, though now, it was more like a daydream, rather than being in a completely different place at each second.

“You must have quite a few questions for me?”

“A few to say the least,” you tried a hand at humor, though it fell sort of flat, you appreciated his soft laugh. “Let’s start at the beginning, how did the two of you know where to find me?”

“I knew something had gone wrong the second i got home,” Your mother set down her now half empty cup of tea, “I found it odd that the garage door was open, clothes on the dryer, but not a single sign of you, even when I called. My worry only got worse as I found this,” she pulled a worn wallet out of her pocket, “It’s your fathers, the bastard must have dropped it. It’s a good thing he did though, it let me know he’d been there. It wasn’t much but it was something.”

You narrowed your eyes at the offending item, as if you could set it ablaze with sight alone.

“And...where do you come in? The media might not know your face, but your title reaches far.”

“I can answer that too; I actually used to be a part of this group, back in the day. Though that was when All Might was still running the show. Even though I retired from this life after having you, I remained in touch, checking in every now and again. I knew that Deku could help me find you, he has eyes across the entire city.”

This was so much to wrap your head around, first your father was in some dealings with this gang- the Ties you’d decided to call them- decided to try and use you to pay off the rest of his debt, but now your mom was once a part of the gang that rescued you? Was the room spinning or was it just you?

“Whoa there!” a steady hand went to your shoulder, the other gently wrapped around the hands that held your cup. Concerned green eyes meet yours. Gently, he raises your cup to your lips, your hands still firmly wrapped around the cup. "Here, maybe take another sip of this, slowly.”

You follow his instruction, taking a deep breath, exhaling through your nose, you take a slow sip. You try and focus on the taste of the honey sweetening your tea. Instead of syrup of golden hue, your mind is trained into a lake of turquoise and teal, green bouncing off rays of light.

At your reassuring nod, he let go of your shoulder and hands. You bow your head forward, “In any event, thank you for coming to my rescue. I’m not sure how to repay you-” he holds up a hand, fear spiking your heart...oh no, was he going to do something similar like The Ties? Just up to his standards?

“No need to thank me, it wasn’t any trouble. However, we do need to talk about what happens from here. If this were any other gang, I’d say that we would escort you home and you could go on your merry way. But this isn’t just any other gang, they’re called The Royal Devils.” Huh, that was definitely a more intimidating name than The Ties for sure, “They have a way of doing business that we don’t exactly agree with here. They’re a mean bunch, and they won't like the fact that we’ve interrupted a deal, especially one to collect on a debt. Which means that they’ll be looking for not just my gang, but you too”

It was a bitter pill to swallow, a pill that rattled with dried fear and misplaced resentment. Your emotions felt like a toddler who had just had enough, the ones who screamed in the stores because everything was just too much. But you kept your cool as best as you could, screaming and crying wouldn’t help the situation.

“So...What do we do then? It’s not like we can just crash somewhere else?” No hotel or motel could keep you safe enough, as well as both of the two being too expensive to stay extensively.

“Well, I have a few ideas, a few options if you will. You see, I’ve been working to take down The Royal Devils, and we’re really close to doing so with the intel we have. Now that we’ve caught their attention directly, it’ll be a bit harder, like i said, they’ll be coming for us.” As he spoke, Deku’s hand gestures became quicker, more animated, his gaze looking far away as he focused.

“So the first option is to have the two of you go home..but have some of my gang keep watch over your every move, just in case the Devils decide to strike there. It would be more comfortable for you to be in a familiar place, however, It paints a bigger target and leaves some of my guys out of where I need them. I’m not just putting any old schmuck to guard you. Your second option is to stay here, at least until I run the Devils into their graves. You’d be safer here and the target remains relatively small, no one knows the location of this specific base. The choice is yours.”

You hadn’t considered the thought of staying, but if it really was the safest option- as much as you would have liked to go home…

You looked over to your mother, you could tell what her choice was.

“We’ll stay here then, just until this matter is solved.”

And so he set you and your mother up in some makeshift rooms provided by this tall young woman named Yaomomo- or that’s what Deku called her. You were given the option to have a shared room, but ultimately decided that having personal space would be good. The first night there however, your mother cuddled underneath her sheets, holding you so close you almost couldn’t breathe. You hardly minded, preferring the safety her hold brought to you.

In the days following you learned that your father had died, though at whose hands, you weren’t sure you wanted to know-wanted to care even. Half of you wanted to be sad, he was your father and apart from the kidnapping, he’d never hurt you, not even once.

The other half of you found contentment in your rage being satisfied, justified. He’d taken you from your home and tried to use you for his own gain- he didn’t even talk to you about it! Not that you would have said yes in the first place.

You would have found a different way, maybe once your mother knew how desperate your father was, she would have helped him. That’s what you thought anyhow, a frown etched on your face as you stirred your tea.

The door behind you swings open, Deku entering into the room, despite his tall stature, he seemed hunched, his energy quiet. “I heard about what happened to your dad...How are you feeling?”

You’re surprised that he even cared to ask, and you told him as such, as well as your actual feelings. He was incredibly understanding.

“It’s okay to feel what you're feeling, you’ve been through quite a bit. It’ll take a bit for your emotions to figure out how to settle.” You only hum in affirmation, licking the honey off your spoon. The rest of your chat was filled with mindless things, whatever you had watched on T.V. books you read; he actually gave you some of his favorites-which were wonderful to read.

Surprisingly over the next two months, your emotions seemed to settle on their own. Your mother didn’t have to cuddle you at night, your own fear of someone coming to take you dwindling by the day.

Or so you thought.

It was the start of the third month into your stay, rain pouring down and thunder rumbling through the sky. As comfortable as Deku tried to make you, it was starting to wear down on you. You couldn’t leave the base, not when they were so close to pinpointing the main base of the Devils operations, not while the closer Deku got the more frantic the Devils became. You groan in sheer boredom, the knots in your back protesting as you lean on your fists.

But even in your boredom, your feelings had become more than just gratitude towards Deku. Aside from the gifts of books, he also spent time with you, underneath the professional exterior, Deku was honestly the sweetest goof you’d met. He often ran away with his thoughts, hands becoming so animated you often had to duck- but he was just so cute when he was excited-

Since when had you fallen so hard?

As if he had an alarm for your discomfort, there was Deku, walking into the break room, which was unofficially your space to meet and chat. As far as you knew, no one else besides the two of you ever came in.

“Rough night?” He asked, you only laughed in response, followed by another groan. He closed the door behind him, sitting beside you. “Tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Oh,” you sigh, your shoulder touching his, “Just this entire situation. I mean, you haven’t done anything wrong, it’s just, for three months now I’ve only been here, at the base. And it’s starting to feel a little…”

“You’re starting to feel a little trapped?”

“Yes,” you cover your face with your hands, “I just want to be able to go outside, to go out and hang out with my other friends, to see something besides these walls. I don’t want to appear ungrateful-”

“Oh hardly, It makes sense,” he places a hand in the middle of your back, rubbing firmly, but carefully, working the knots there, “I think I’d go a little stir crazy too. But I promise, we’ll be done soon. We’re in need of just one more piece of the puzzle, then we’ll be ready to go. You can talk to me about anything you know, even this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you resented me a bit for keeping you ‘locked up’ as it were.”

“Nah,” you say softly, glancing up at him, “Mom and I made our choice, we knew it’d take a while. We’re just dealing with it as we go.” He was such a pretty image, cool light coming in from the streetlamp illuminating his features in a soft glow. Your eyes lingered over his lips a bit longer than you mean to. “Thank you for the offer, I’ll keep that in mind”

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lips barely brushing. His brows shot up, surprised. Just as you began to pull a bit back, he took a chance, his lips brushing over yours ever so softly. Your heart lit up in glee; you lean forward more, your kiss no longer so soft and light.

He groans, his right hand moving to cup your jaw, the other at the small of your back, pulling your chests together until they were flush. He somehow slips his tongue in, your answering moan being swallowed by him as your hands run through his hair. Your tongues danced together, as if mapping every crevice to commit the appendage to memory.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, his freckles drowned by the pink blush on his cheeks, lips slightly damp. He presses a kiss to your lips, to your cheek and jaw, moving down towards your neck, licking at a particular spot that had your breath hitched. He nibbled softly before outright biting the area, a move that had your stomach doing flips that left a syrupy warm trail and a giggle escaping your lips.

As his nibbles and suckles became more intense, your grip on his hair tightened, your whimpers music to his ears. With one last suck he pulled away completely, taking in your image. You were now laying down on the couch with him above you, hair all mussed up and lips flushed a pretty damp color.

He went down for another kiss, letting his weight rest on you slightly. As heavy as he was, it felt comforting to you, you could feel the beginnings of something stirring below.

A knock at the door had jumped you out of your mood, like jumping into a pool of ice water.

“Deku? We have some more info to relay to you”

You didn’t care to identify the voice, your disappointment evident on your face. He pressed a sweeter kiss to your lips before slowly backing off of you.

“I’m sorry, I...I should probably-”

You couldn’t be upset with him, not really. Not when he seemed just as disappointed as you. “No, it’s alright, it could be really important. We’ll talk later, yeah?” “Yeah, Definitely.”

He stood up, giving you one more soft look, before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

As much as the two of you had intended to talk the next day, it turned out that bit of information was incredibly important. For the next few days, the base had been buzzing like a bee hive, everyone working together to create the perfect plan of infiltration.

You were so...You had thought that You’d be happy for the news, but now you were mixed. If Deku succeeded, then you had no more reason to stay, you were free to go home, to go out with friends. But it also meant that you wouldn’t be seeing Deku again. At that realization, your heart had grown heavy like stone and sunk to your stomach.

Instead of waiting until after the take down, you asked to meet with him before he left, in the same spot you had been meeting.

You’d made two cups of tea, his just how he liked it. You nervously held onto the cup, staring into the liquid as if it had all the answers.

Not a moment later and in walked Deku, the door closing behind him. He seemed wired, energy radiating off of him as if it had nowhere else to go. But still, he kept quiet as he sat down next to you.

It was awkward, actually the first time you’d ever felt awkward around him. What were you supposed to say? ‘Hey, please don’t go after those people so we can be together, if we’re gonna be together at all?’

“Y-you know, I thought you’d be a bit more excited for today.” He broke the ice, melting it with a sip of his hot tea.

“I did too... but then...I won’t beat around the bush, I like you, quite a bit Deku, and I really liked that we kissed. I’d like to do it again. But...when you win, we won't be able to see each other again. I really want to see you again.” Your neutral expression turned into a frown.

Deku was quiet for only a few moments, you let the silence lay still- let him process what you’d just said.

“I really want to see you again, too. To properly ask you out. We don’t have to stop seeing one another just because you’re leaving the base. It just means that...there will be some conditions, to keep you safe. Like being escorted home by either me or another trusted member, at least when it comes to coming to see me.”

“I can live with that,” you swear, taking his hand in yours, “ anything to see you again Deku”

He cups your jaw, bringing your foreheads to touch, “ You are just so sweet, Doll. There’s just one more thing”

“What is it?” “When we’re alone, call me Izuku. It’s only fair you know my real name.”

“Izuku,” you taste the name on your tongue, the smooth way it leaves your lips brings a satisfied smile to your face, “I like it” “And I like hearing you say it” he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “ I’ll be back soon, don’t you worry”

It takes almost all day, but Deku wins, the last member of The Royal Devils was killed at midnight on the dot. All of their territory was now for Deku to fill. He comes home to you bloodied and bruised but alive.

After a few months, the two of you were going quite steady, having weekly date nights, going out on the town and having the time of your lives. But it wasn’t enough, you missed being able to see him as soon as you woke up.

Your mother thought you were moving a bit fast, but you couldn’t help it. You loved him, and he loved you just as much. You’d decided to move in with him.

So far you were going on two years strong, as you found yourself sat on his lap, your temple pressed against his neck as you listened to his voice rumble on towards the other members. You were hardly paying attention, far too busy reminiscing about how you ended up here.

#maemiwritesBNHA #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #villain deku #katsuki bakugou #todoroki shouto #momo yaoyorozu #bnha #mha #bnha reader #bnha all might

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

I Remember

Best years Part 3 | part two | part one

spencer reid x reader

summary: as time moves forward, the readers past begins to creep its way back into her thoughts.

warnings: normal criminal minds things

A/N: based on season 7 episode 13 (this one may be my favorite i’ve written so far)

The white sweater on Y/N’s body warmed her as she walked to the kitchen in her apartment. The hard-wood floor was cold against her bare feet as she poured the hot coffee into her mug, along with her cream and sugar. She felt tired that morning, legs feeling heavier than usual as she dragged herself to the bar inside her kitchen. She sat down, opening up her notebook that laid there and began to write.

Her mind trailed off as she wrote to the note she had gotten a couple of weeks back. The bird on the page mocked her as she thought of the enemy she had made all those years back. Her thoughts trailed back to when the woman made her sit and watch as she tormented people she cared for. The sounds of slapping and skin-on-skin contact making her cringe. The smell of water and fire filled her nose as she felt like she was back where she was almost ten years ago.

Buzz. Buzz.

The sound of her phone brought her back into the kitchen and she looked over to see who was calling her. The time read 7:30 A.M., Saturday, but that’s not what had her attention. Spencer’s name lit up the screen telling her it was him who was calling.

She set her pen down before picking up her phone. “Hey, Spence,” she said answering the phone.

“Hey, did you get Hotch’s message?” He asked, the sound of an elevator ding being heard through the speaker of the phone.

“No, I just woke up, why is something wrong?” She closed her notebook standing up and heading towards her room.

“We’ve got a case, Hotch said to get here as soon as possible,” The elevator ding was heard again.

“I’m assuming you’re already at the office,” she said while placing some clothes together in her go-bag before she got ready.

“Yeah, I was up anyway, couldn’t sleep,” he explained to her.

“Oh, that sucks, well I’ll be there in ten,” she said before saying bye.

“See ya,” was his response before hanging up.

She buttoned up a blue shirt and grabbed the white sweater she wore to bed, layering it over the shirt. Black pants and boots followed as she put on makeup quickly and headed out the door to the BAU office.

Spencer smiled at her as he saw her enter the door of the office. She smiled back with radiance.

“Beautiful,” Spencer whispered to himself, or what he thought was himself.

“What was that Pretty Boy?” Derek questioned from behind Spencer, a smug smirk on his face.

Spencer flushed looking back at Derek, “I-I didn’t say anything.” He lied, and it was evident, not only because Derek heard him, but because it was a bad lie.

“You know Reid, I think girl wonder over there has feeling for you too,” the broad man said pointing the woman across the room who was talking to Emily.

“I never said I had feelings for her,” Spencer said defending his bottled up emotion for the woman he had truly been crushing on since she arrived at the BAU.

Derek rolled his eyes, “Kid, you may be a genius or whatever, but it doesn’t take a profiler to notice you like her. All the small glances and longing looks, come on when are you going to tell her?”

“Is it that obvious?” Spencer asked looking at his friend.

“Painstakingly,” was Derek’s response before he walked away towards the round table room.

Spencer turned back around looking at Y/N as she laughed at something Emily had said to her before they themselves made their way to the room.

He watched as Y/N smiled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her hair, eyes sparkling as she smiled at Derek who said something to her.

You’re gonna do it, Spencer, he thought, You’re going to ask her out.

----------

“It looks like a robbery gone bad,” Emily said as they inspected the latest case coming through. “Why was the BAU called in?”

Hotch clicked a button on the remote pulling up the next photo which was of the crime scene.

“Eight one-dollar bills surrounding an eight card,” Spencer said as he looked closely at the victim on the screen. “That’s highly ritualistic.”

“And because Savino has ties to organized crime, agents in New Jersey are worried about things escalating,” Hotch explained.

“Well, it doesn’t take much to ignite a mob war,” Derek said looking at the photo on the screen again.

“And collateral damage means nothing to these guys,” Y/N added to what Derek was saying.

“If we don’t get a handle on this soon, innocent people are gonna die,” Rossi said.

“And we don’t want that, wheels up in 20,” Hotch said dismissing the team to get ready to leave.

Everyone grabbed their things and headed out the door, leaving Y/N and Penelope the last.

“Hey, Penelope,” Y/N said turning to her right before she walked out the door.

Penelope jumped, startled by Y/N’s voice before looking at her ready for her question.

“Can you look someone up for me, after this case, of course, I need to know where they are,” Y/N explained to her.

“Sure, yeah, who is it,” Penelope said grabbing out a small notepad and pen from her bag.

“Uh, her name is Caroline Roberts,” she told the woman in front of her. “And can this stay between us, I don’t want anyone to worry,” Y/N explained to her.

“Oh, sure, should I be worried,” Penelope asked concerned for her friend.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” She spoke and turned around exiting the room.

----------

“No question. ‘God Father II,’ hands down,” Emily said in response to the question on what her favorite gangster flick was.

“No, no, gotta be ‘Scarface’,” responded Derek contouring Emily’s choice in the movie.

“For me, ‘The Untouchables’, ” JJ said the turning to look at Spencer and Y/N who sat on the couch beside each other. “Y/N? Spence?”

“Hmm, Does ‘Pulp Fiction’ count? If so then that,” Y/N responded.

“Mm, Probably ‘Le Cercle Rouge,’ the 1970s french classic,” Spencer answered looking up from the book he was reading. “But ‘Den Tredje Vaagan’ is definitely a close second.”

“Yeah, that was my runner-up, too,” Emily said with a smile, making the others laugh.

“What about you, Rossi?” JJ said to the man walking down the aisle.

“Yeah, best ever gangster flick,” Y/N said turning towards him.

“I’ve had too much of the real thing to be a fan of mob movies,” Rossi replied sitting in the chair next to him.

The others chuckled at his words before turning to Hotch.

“Garcia, did we get the crime scene surveillance video yet?” Hotch asked looking at the woman on the screen in front of him.

“No, Sir, because there wasn’t any,” replied Penelope through the screen. Her face showed guilt that wasn’t even hers to have.

“That’s not possible,” Spencer said with shock. “Every inch of the casino is surveilled, every minute of every day.”

“Yeah, apparently the footage was tampered with, so…,” Penelope’s voice trailed off.

“All right, Reid and Y/L/N, go to the crime scene,” Hotch said to the two sitting on the couch. “Dave, you and JJ find out if Savino was involved in anything the local authorities don’t know about. Morgan, Prentiss, and I will contact the local FBI office and arrange a ceasefire with the families.”

Everyone nodded and went back to their previous conversation. Y/N looked over at Spencer who had a book in his hand, reading with his finger trailing down the page to follow the words. For a second she was mesmerized by how he looked, but she soon looked away at the thought of being caught and listened to the conversation between the other four at the table.

-----------

Spencer and Y/N walked down the hallway towards the room of the crime scene, the guard sliding the card the lock opening it.

“Electric strike lock, impressive,” Y/N spoke walking into the room, taking into count how it looked.

“And hard to bypass. If this was a robbery, the unsub must have slipped in right behind him,” Spencer said, looking at the room around him.

“Well, Savino could have known the killer,” Y/N said as she looked at the scene on the ground. “Could have let him in himself, and probably wasn’t expecting this to turn into a brawl, let alone a murder.”

“Maybe the unsub wasn’t either,” Spencer said looking at Y/N. “If this was premeditated, you’d think he would have brought a knife or a gun with him,” he walked closer to the scene on the floor bending over to look at it closer. “The bowling trophy looks more like a weapon of opportunity.”

“Is this the only camera?” Y/N asked pointing up towards the camera in the corner.

“Yes, Ma’am, but the disk was removed,” replied the guard who let them in.

“But casinos have a central terminal that backs up and stores all surveillance footage, right?” Spencer asked turning around to the guard.

“Mr. Savino didn’t want that in his office,” the guard replied.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Of course not.” The words were muttered under her breath, barely even audible.

“He put in a personal camera,” the guard continued.

“So the victim bypassed a security system that would have revealed his own killer,” Spencer said the tone in his voice going up at the end.

“What didn’t he want anyone to see?” Y/N asked walking over towards the camera on the wall. “Whatever it was he wanted everything kept secret.”

Spencer nodded his head in agreement, the two thanked the guard and walked out of the room. The walk down the hall was silent as the two made their way towards the elevator.

“I hate casinos,” Y/N stated as they entered the elevator.

“Why’s that?” Spencer asked as he pressed the button labeled ‘Lobby’.

“I think it’s the smell, alcohol, and cigarettes, it just gives me a headache,” she said with disgust at the thought of it. “Don’t get me wrong though, I love a good game of poker, but I’d rather do it with some friends and some pretzels as chips.”

Spencer laughed at her statement, “Are you good?” Spencer asked her as they exited the elevator and headed towards the doors.

“At poker? I mean I guess, I have a decent bluff face, but I prefer gin,” she opened the door for them. The brisk air hitting her skin as she wrapped her jacket around her torso as they headed towards the car.

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

Y/N and Spencer entered the small conference room behind Agent Gossling who had met them at the door.

“Agent Gossling,” Hotch said greeting her.

“Any luck with our mob bosses?” asked Gossling as she walked into the room.

“Well, I think we bought some time,” replied Derek.

Y/N and Spencer sat down at the table along with everyone else.

“What about the crime scene?” Emily asked.

“Savino purposely bypassed the standard casino security,” Y/N explained, her arms folding over herself as she leaned forward on the table.

“I think we know why,” stated Rossi as he entered the room, JJ following closely behind him.

“Danny Savino supplemented his income by loaning money to casino patrons,” JJ explained, relaying the information she and Rossi had learned.

“Explains why he changed the camera in his office,” Spencer said, shifting in his seat. “He didn’t want his bosses to know he was freelancing.”

“So we’re looking for a gambler,” Hotch said looking at those around him.

“A gambler in Atlantic City,” Emily said.

“Ah, yes because that narrows the field,” Y/N said with light sarcasm in her voice. A few around her chuckled.

They sat in the room for a few more hours, discussing what could be going down. Y/N’s phone rang, she pulled it out of her pocket, the name ‘Penelope’ on the screen.

“Excuse me,” She said standing up, walking out of the room. “Hey Pen, what’s up,” she said when she was out of ears-reach from those in the room.

“So that Caroline Roberts you asked me to look into, she was a lot harder to find then I thought,” She spoke through the phone.

“Oh, you found her already,” Y/N whispered, not expecting her to find her, or even look for her, this fast. But who was Y/N kidding, she was asking Penelope Garcia to find her someone, she should have expected this.

“Yeah, so this girl was in prison about two years ago for assault, which is unusual seeing how violent it was considering she is a woman,” Penelope spoke confusion evident in her voice.

“She is a very unusual person,” Y/N agreed as more memories of the woman from her past filled her mind.

“Uh-huh, no kidding, anyway she was let out for parole not too long ago and she has been working for an insurance company ever since,” Penelope explained.

“And there’s been no suspicious behavior since she was let out?” Y/N was nervous about her answer.

“Nope. None,” she replied. “So are you going to tell me what this is about?”

Y/N was about to respond, but Hotch approached behind her causing the conversation to be cut short. “I got to go,” she pulled the phone from her ear and hanging up turning around to Hotch.

“Everything alright,” He asked her, brows furrowed in his normal serious manner.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” she said reassuring him. His eyebrows raised, but he didn’t push it anymore.

“There’s been another victim, we’re heading to the scene now,” he told her. “I want you to stay here, help the other build the profile we’ll be back.”

Y/N nodded her head. As he turned and walked away, she let out a heavy sigh and headed back to the small conference room.

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

“We’re looking for a man who’s killing those who appear to prey upon or take advantage of gamblers,” Hotch said beginning to explain the profile. It was the next morning and the office was filled with people ready to hear the profile and catch the man who was doing this. “Loan Sharks and call girls so far.”

“The killings may have been triggered by recent gambling losses,” Derek explained further into the profile.

“Our unsub is physically fit,” Y/N added.

“He was able to overpower Danny Savino and Patty Riolo was killed with extreme violence,” Emily explained more.

“It’s doubtful this man has a criminal record, he moves without fear of being recognized,” Derek said looking over the sea of people in front of them.

“In one of the most surveilled locales on the planet,” Y/N continued explaining why that was important.

“He wouldn’t have elements of domestic life,” JJ began. “Like children, that would only moderate or stabilize his compulsive behavior.”

“Pathological gambling is the most common type of impulse control disorder in the world,” Spencer explained.

“And there is no more superstitious creature on Earth than a gambler,” Rossi said pushing himself off the desk he was leaning on. “The number eight is the ritual aspect of our unsub’s signature.”

“It’s a compulsion, it could signify a birthday or an important time in his life,” Y/N explained more into the skepticism type.

“Not only is this unsub a killer, but he’s also an addict,” Hotch added. “He’s killed twice in the last two days, and he may not be able to stop.”

Hotch then dismissed the group in front of them and the team went back to the small conference room.

Y/N’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket reading the text from Penelope;

Can you tell me what it’s about now??

Y/N shook her head, knowing that the woman wasn’t going to give up till she told her or gave her a promising answer.

I will when we get back

The text was enough for Penelope to reply with a simple ‘okay’ and leave her alone until she got back.

--------

“This doesn’t make sense,” Rossi exclaimed looking at the board. “Danny Savino was a bottom-feeder, handing out nickel-and-dime to small-time gamblers. But Patti Riolo was exclusively about high-rollers.”

“The unsub wouldn’t have crossed naturally into both worlds, he would have been in one or the other,” Emily said, agreeing with Rossi that it didn’t make sense.

“Unless his fortunes changed drastically between murdering Savino and meeting up with Patti Riolo,” Hotch shed some light onto the conversation.

“Maybe he flashed the money he stole from Savino in front of her, you know pretending to be rich,” Y/N said looking at the other three hoping she helped.

“Or he gambled with it and won big,” Rossi said turning back towards the board.

“Let’s say Dave is right, he was in financial trouble, and immediately after murdering Savino, his luck changed,” Hotch said giving his theory.

“In his mind, he could’ve connected the two,” Y/N connected her own thoughts as she pieced the story together.

“Every compulsive gambler believes in a system, no matter how illogical,” Rossi added.

“And he’d figure the past part of his system he was missing was murder,” Hotch connected the last of the dots forming the story together.

---------

Y/N walked up to Spencer and squatted down next to him. The victim leaned up against a wall in a back alley, multiple gunshot wounds were shot in his back.

“Eighty-eight dollars, the unsub’s getting generous,” Spencer said holding the money in his gloved covered hands.

“There’s less rage than the others,” Y/N noticed as she looked at the victim. “And undoing. There’s major evidence of remorse, shot in the back so he wouldn’t have to face his victim.”

“No robbery this time either, the wallet’s intact, except for anything to I.D. him,” Spencer said holding up the wallet to Y/N, Hotch and Agent Gossling also who had approached beside her.

“Is this even the same killer?” Agent Gossling asked looking at Spencer.

“The ritual’s too similar to discount it,” Hotch explained looking over at the three beside him. The sound of Agent Gossling’s phone ringing pulled her away from the three and off to the side to answer it.

“Well, the change in M.O. makes sense if the unsub is still refining his system,” Y/N said head-turning to Hotch beside her. “Maybe the killing of the gas station clerk didn’t work, so now he’s back to the drawing board.”

“Two eights instead of one could be significant,” Spencer said diverting the attention over to him. “I know in China the number 8 symbolizes prosperity. The more eights, the better. As a matter of fact, in Chengdu, a telephone number consisting of all eights recently sold for over a quarter-million dollars.”

“Wow,” Y/N said. “So, wait, why would he be doubling his luck out here, away from all the casinos?” She wondered while looking between the two.

“There’s been another killing,” Agent Gossling said approaching the three after hanging up her phone. “A guest in his room at the Sapphire Lady.”

“Same ritual?” Hotch asked as he looked over at the agent.

“No, his neck was broken, and he was robbed of 50,000,” Agent Gossling explained what she was told over the phone. “The strange thing is, the killer left nearly 20,000 behind with the body.”

Hotch opened his phone, pressing Penelope’s name.

“Garcia is there a casino in the neighborhood of Penrose and Morningside avenue?” Hotch asked after hearing the beep of Penelope answering.

“Uh...no casino per se, but there’s a private gambling establishment right around the corner,” Penelope explained.

“Is it legal?” Spencer asked, his voice speaking louder so he could be heard over the phone.

“Yeah, but it’s ultra-exclusive, they have a monthly high-stakes poker tournament-” she paused, “today being that day for that day of the month, coincidentally enough.”

“Or no coincidence at all,” Y/N said with a huff.

“What’s the buy-in?” Hotch asked.

“Yikies, 50,000 dollars,” Penelope said confirming what everyone was thinking. “But it’s a million-dollar guarantee if you win,” she continued.

“What time does it start?” Hotch asked her.

“Later this afternoon,” she replied.

“Thanks,” Hotch said hanging up his phone before turning and walking to the cars.

---------

“Forensics got a match on the last victim,” Agent Gossling said as she walked into the small conference room, taking a seat next to Rossi. “Eddie Langdon, we’re looking into him now.”

“Hey, any luck?” JJ said turning to Hotch as he stepped into the room.

“No, they don’t want to allocate emergency funds for the buy-in,” Hotch replied looking at his phone. They were trying to find a way to get into the tournament so that they could hopefully catch the unsub. “I’m still working on it.”

“Well, I can’t imagine why not, we’re only asking for 50,000 bucks of taxpayer money, so that FBI agents can play Texas Hold ‘em,” Rossi said with humor.

Y/N paused for a second,“Hey, what about you?” She asked looking at Rossi across from her.

“What about me what?” He retorted back with eyebrows raised.

“You could stake us the buy-in?” Y/N proposed.

“Yeah, you’re a best-selling author,” Spencer said as he sat down next to Y/N.

“No,” Rossi said, he had that tone that said why would you even say such a thing.

“Why not?” Emily asked him.

“One, it’s against regulations, and I’d like to hold on to this job for a little while longer,” Rossi said looking at the four in front of him.

“It’s a minor administrative violation,” JJ said, a smirk on her face.

“And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things. Like single-malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork-”

“Poker chips are things!” Emily interrupted quickly.

“They are,” Y/N agreed, nodding her head while she looked at Rossi.

“Maybe just think of it as like a new experience,” Spencer began. “I mean at your age how often does that happen.”

“Oh no,” Y/N whispered after Spencer’s statement.

“At my what?” Rossi questioned with daggers as he looked at Spencer. Spencer than looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy,” JJ explained, voice coming off as slightly pleading.

“Alright fine,” Rossi said finally caving. “I’m a decent poker player, but I can’t promise that I can stay in the game long enough to-”

“You know what, I bet you’re a great poker player,” Y/N said cutting Rossi off. “But what if we send in Spencer?” She posed the idea of the boy wonder going in.

“I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump for my card counting ability,” Spencer said as he looked at those around the table.

Y/N held her hand up as if saying, my point exactly.

“Look, I know I’m not a genius like the boy wonder here,” he said hand gesturing to Spencer next to him. “But poker is not blackjack, it’s about bluffing, reading human nature, head games, Y/N would be a better bet because she’s really good at hiding stuff and playing mind games.”

“I slightly resent that statement,” Y/N said, humor clearly evident in her voice.

“All I am saying is, It’s not math,” Rossi finished.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Spencer said standing up, grabbing a marker and walking towards the board. “There actually is a mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus one, with N representing the estimated number of players, in the final round of betting--”

“Okay, fine, I surrender,” Rossi cut Spencer off not wanting to hear any more of the math lesson he was giving. “Just try not to lose all of my money.”

Spencer snapped his fingers giving Rossi a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile.

“Dear God, I hope this works,” Y/N said while she placed her head on her folded arms that rested on the table.

“You know, maybe we should send Y/N in also, you know like as a call girl or something, have two sets of eyes to cover all the tables,” Rossi said looking at Y/N.

“Ha, that’s a good one Rossi,” She said laughing while looking up at his serious face. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“It would work well, two eyes being able to see everything,” Emily said looking at Y/N.

She looked at her friend in disbelief that she was agreeing to this, but she let out a huff and said, “Fine, but if I’m going to do this you better get me some makeup and a outfit because I don’t think this attire will pull off what you want me to do,” Y/N caved knowing there would be no way of getting out of this.

“I think we can get that worked out,” Agent Gossling said standing up and getting what they needed.

----------

Y/N looked around the large room full of tables from the bar, not really sure what to do. “Guys, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing here, I also feel very exposed,” she whispered into her wire that was placed on her, tugging on the top of the low-cut black jumpsuit she was wearing. She was given a wire to be safe in case something happened while Spencer was given an alert pen.

“Go over to some tables and flirt with someone, come on Pretty girl, you got this,” Derek spoke to her through the clear ear-piece in her ear. So that’s what she did, wandering from table to table flirting lightly with men, and looking to see if they had any items of eight tat would link them as the unsub. She watched as some men made the worst decisions in poker and others who took it way to seriously.

While she was paying attention to what she was doing, she couldn’t help but notice Spencer’s glances as he looked at her to make sure she was okay. The reason she knew that was why he was looking at her was that it was the same reason she would glance at him.

“Get anything yet, Y/N?” Emily asked in her ear-piece.

Y/N pulled herself away from the table she was just at so she could answer. “Negative,” she answered switching the clutch from her left hand to her right. She looked up for a second and saw Spencer make eye contact with her, then eyes diverting to the man sitting beside him. “Hold on, Reid might have something, wait for his signal though.”

“I am in, and I raise,” Y/N caught the end of Spencer’s call as she made her way over to the table.

“That’s too rich for my blood,” the man beside the one glaring at Spencer spoke. The two sat there, eyeing each other, no wards exchange.

She began lightly flirting with some of the men at the table, pretending to be dumb about poker. She carefully watched Spencer and then man eyeing each other.

“Are you in, sir?” The dealer asked the man eyeing Spencer.

“I’ll call,” He said placing some chips in front of him.

“Call,” the dealer spoke.

“Straight,” Spencer said as he flipped his cards over, eyes never leaving the man.

The man scoffed in defeat.

“A gutshot straight draw? Are you kidding me?” The man that Y/N was flirting with said looking at Spencer in disbelief. “That is just-- that is just nuts.”

“No kidding,” Y/N whispered to herself at the hand Spencer had. He looked up at her making eye contact signaling her that he believed the one he had been eyeing was the unsub. Y/N nodded and waited for his move.

“Do you mind if I take a look at this?” Spencer asked reaching for the eight ball key-chain that sat in front of the man.

The man’s hand gripped Spencer’s wrist as he had a hold on his lucky item. Spencer’s theory confirmed that this was the unsub.

“Hey, what’s the problem, sir?” A guard asked walking over to Spencer and the unsub.

“He-He’s reaching for my chips!” The unsub proclaimed to the guard.

“I was simply admiring--” Spencer was cut off by the guard yanking him out of his seat.

“Shit,” Y/N whispered as she calmly approached, but stopped realizing that wasn’t smart and kept her distance.

“Sir you need to come with me,” The guard said yanking Spencer again. Y/N becoming slightly angry at how the guard was treating Spencer.

“Y/N what is it?” Hotch asked through her earpiece, she didn’t respond.

“I’ll cooperate, don’t manhandle me,” Spencer said shoving the guard off of him slightly. “Thanks.” He looked at Y/N nodding towards the man before sounding the alarm in his hand.

Y/N watched Spencer get pulled away and when she turned back the unsub, who was now taking poker chips and shoving them in his pockets. She knew she couldn’t go after him, she didn’t have her gun or a vest so she waited for backup.

“Y/N did you see where he went?” Hotch asked as he approached her, Emily tossing her a vest.

“Yeah, he went this way come on,” She said placing the vest over her head and grabbing her gun from Emily.

“Morgan, he’s a white male baseball cap, he’s headed for the back door,” Emily spoke into her watch as she, Hotch, and Y/N continued to move forward towards the back.

They entered a room and saw the head of a man lying on the ground, “He’s on the move.” Y/N said to her wire as her and the other two ran out the back.

The three came to a halt as they were met with the cold air, realizing the unsub had gotten away.

----------

The cool air ran over Y/N’s bare arms as the stood outside of the building. They had started to discuss victimology again before Hotch called Penelope to find out if Eddie Langdon had a partner in his plumbing business. His partner was Curtiss Banks whose father was also a compulsive gambler.

“Do you have an address?” Hotch asked Penelope over the phone. She responded with his home address and than Hotch hung up.

“Y/L/N, go with Reid and Morgan and head to Banks’ house, he may head back there,” Hotch ordered to Y/N who began to walk towards where Spencer and Derek were.

“Hey, Hotch wants us to go to Banks’ house, Garcia just sent the address,” Y/N said as she approached the two men by the stakeout van.

“Alright, let’s go,” Derek said pushing himself off of the van and heading towards the SUV in the parking lot.

“Here, I grabbed this out of the van,” Spencer said, handing Y/N an FBI bomber jacket.

“Thank you, I’m freezing,” she said taking the jacket from Spencer, hand slightly brushing his.

While Y/N put the jacket on her body, Derek looked at Spencer as they approached the vehicle and wiggled his eyebrows. Spencer responded with an exaggerated eye roll and hopped into the passenger seat.

The three arrived at the house and looked around to see if anyone was there, but the house was quiet and dark. Derek pulled his phone out and dialed Hotch’s number.

“Yeah Hotch,” Derek said when Hotch answered the phone. “There’s nobody here. There’s a foreclosure sign on the front lawn.”

The three got back into the car as Hotch told them to stay in case he came back. Y/N let out a sigh as she placed her head on her hand on the armrest.

“You okay back there Y/N?” Derek asked turning in his chair to look at the young woman.

“Yep,” she said popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “I don’t like sitting and waiting.”

“Me neither,” Derek agreed. “What about you pretty boy?”

Spencer turned to look at Derek beside him, his eye previously trained on the house outside the window. “I don’t mind it, it gives me some time to relax and think.”

The three sat in silence and waited for some instruction. Y/N closed her eyes for a second and began to drift off. She was quickly brought back to reality as Derek’s phone ringing woke her up.

“Hey, Hotch,” he said answering the phone. Y/N and Spencer looked over as he talked on the phone. “Alright, we’ll head back now, that was Hotch they got him at his sister-in-law’s house.”

“Oh good, does this mean we get to go home now and sleep?” Y/N asked, hope in her voice.

“Yes, sleepyhead, we do,” Derek said, starting the car and driving back towards the office. Y/N laughed and shook her head before just leaning back in her chair.

The next morning the team made their way home and returned back to the office and began their day there.

Y/N sat at her desk looking over a report in her hand. She looked up at the post-it note on her desk, the sketch of a bird taunting her as she looked at it. Ripping it off her desk she crumpled it and threw it away and went back to the report.

“Hey Y/N,” Spencer said walking up to Y/N at her desk.

She looked up from her report and looked at Spencer, “Hey Spence, what’s up?” She asked him.

“Um, I was wondering, if you know you wanted to maybe, possibly, wanted to,” He stumbled over his words out of nervousness.

She raised an eyebrow at him waiting for the climax of the question. “Spencer, take a breath.”

He did just that, taking in a deep breath, letting his shoulders drop in the process.

“Sometime, would you maybe want to, get some coffee?” His voice was quiet at the end and if it wasn’t for Y/N’s hyper-aware hearing she may have not caught it.

“Spencer Reid, are you asking me out?” She said, a smile forming on her face.

“Only-only if you want me to be, if not then it can just be as friends, or we could-”

“Spence,” she cut him off. “I would really like that.”

“Really?” He asked smiling at the woman in front of him. “How-how about tomorrow?” He asked her.

“That sounds great,” she said and smiled. He went back to his desk with a pep in his step and sat down with a smile.

“He did it,” Emily said to Penelope as she walked up beside her.

“Who did it?” Penelope asked the dark-headed woman.

“Spencer, he asked Y/N out, only took him a year and a half,” she laughed.

“Oh my god, the day has finally happened!”

---------

Y/N walked into her apartment, sighing happily as she took her shoes off of her aching feet. She looked down and saw an envelope on the ground. Cautiously she picked it up and flipped it over, the flap being tapped down by wax. The imprint of a bird on it.

She opened it carefully, pulling out a note similar to the ones she had gotten weeks prior.

Remember those nights you would sit scared in your room? I do, I remember and I miss them, start feeling that again. ~ C.R.

Y/N dropped the letter on the ground, she turned in locked her door shut before she slide down it. Grabbing her phone, she quickly went to Penelope’s contact and called her.

“Hey Pen, I think I’m ready to tell you who Caroline Roberts is.”

tag list (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds meme #Penelope Garcia #Emily Printiss

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rocksandrobots · 3 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 36 - Wrestlers, Boxers, and Ninjas, Oh My (Part 3)

Gogo fumbled for her phone as it went off on the table near her bed, ringing loudly. She moaned in frustration, still groggy from sleep, as she reluctantly sat up and answered the call.

"Hello?" She yawned.

"Gogo, is Varian with you?" Aunt Cass's voice came through the other end.

"Uh, no," Gogo said, snapping awake, "he left last night about ten thirty or so."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, indicating it was late morning or near noon, and Gogo couldn't dismiss the growing dread churning in her stomach as she realized something wasn't right.

"Yes, he called about that time to say he was on his way home, so I went on to bed, but I haven't seen him all morning. He was supposed to help out at the cafe today but he never showed up, and his bed doesn't look like it was slept in…. and he isn't answering his phone." Aunt Cass explained as worry crept into her voice. "I don't want to panic but, so far no one's seen him. Hiro stayed up later than I did, which is normal, but he says he never saw Varian come in either. I texted Honey Lemon earlier but she never got back with me."

Gogo heard the faint sound of snoring below her that told her exactly where her roommate was. "Yeah, she's still asleep. Have you called Fred, or Wasabi yet?"

"No, but Fred was here earlier to see Hiro and he said that he hasn't heard from Varian since last night either."

Gogo took a deep breath to calm her nerves, "Okay, I'll call Wasabi and see if he spent the night at the dorms or something."

"That's a good idea, and I'll call Granville to see if Varian is at the school. I know finals are coming up; he could just be doing some last minute work on his project."

Aunt Cass's voice sounded cheerful, but they both knew that Varian wasn't likely to skip out on his job like that. He took his responsibilities seriously, and after the bot fighting incident, he was pretty diligent about communicating his whereabouts to Aunt Cass as well. But there was no other way to move forward but to explore all their other options first.

So they said their goodbyes and Gogo called Wasabi. Then she called Karmi, and then Carl and Globby. She even called up Carol. No one had seen nor heard from Varian since last night.

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

"Mole hasn't seen him either." Fred stated as he finished reading the text on his phone.

They were all gathered at the apartment, trying to debate on what to do.

"And I just talked to Megan. He's not with her either." Hiro added.

"So who haven't we called? What aren't we thinking of?" Wasabi asked.

"I guess we're just going to have to go out and physically hunt for him like last time." Gogo said.

"Yeah, I'll get Baymax to fly around and scan the city. We'll have to pick up our armor from HQ though. I left it there for repairs after our last matchup with Trina."

They all started to file out the door, all except for Honey Lemon who stood next to the kitchen window on her phone.

"You coming?" Gogo asked her.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to call Varian again." She said distractly. She'd been withdrawn all morning since the news hit. Constantly calling and texting same as the rest, but not saying much outside of that.

"Well you can do that on the ride to HQ." Wasabi said and she followed after them, still trying to get through on the phone which just kept ringing.

Once outside on the sidewalk, the phone went to voicemail again. She growled under her breath as she hit the redial button again; unsure what else she could do.

"Hey, you guys hear that?" Fred asked.

"Hear what?"

"Sounds like a phone ringing."

"Well Honey Lemon is on the phone." Gogo pointed out the obvious, getting slightly irritated with Fred.

"I know that. It's not coming from her, It's coming from somewhere over there." He pointed down the sidewalk across the street. He then took off walking that way even as Honey Lemon hung up in frustration.

Fred paused as if listening for something. "Make that phone call again, HL." He yelled to her.

She did, and Fred bolted over to the bus stop across the way.

"I found it!" He shouted as he held up a ringing cell phone high into the air.

They all ran over to him. In his hand he held what looked like Varian's phone but the screen was cracked right down the middle and the back was all scratched up.

"Yeah it's his alright." Fred proclaimed as he went through the phone's contents. "Here's the text he sent me last night about the wrestling tickets."

Everyone exchanged worried faces. Yes, something was definitely wrong here.

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

Varian awoke inside a dark room. He tried to move his arms but they were tied behind his back. He tried to stand up or scoot the chair he was seated in but couldn't as it was bolted to the floor.

After a few moments of struggling he tried to calm himself with a few deep breaths. At least he wasn't gagged this time. Though that probably meant whoever took him had him secured in a place where calls for help wouldn't be heard. So he didn't waste his time on that. Instead he tried his best to adjust his eyes to the dim light and see where he was.

It looked like some kind of lab. There were computers over next to one wall; their screens emitting a soft blue light. There was a work desk near him with an assortment of tools and wires scattered upon it, and over in one corner of the room was a 3D printer like the one Hiro had in his lab. Though this one appeared to be far larger and fancier than that one. He also could point out what looked like large pieces of scrap metal and glass here and about the room. There was probably a furnace somewhere for melting it all down but he couldn't see it from the angle he sat at.

As he sat there wondering what all this stuff was for, a door opened on the right side of the room, flooding the space with a stream of light.

"Ah you're awake!" A voice barked and Varian turned his head to see Yama standing there. He was flanked by two men dressed all in black, faces hidden behind masks, and with various weapons tucked in their belts.

'Ninjas' was the word Varian was looking for. He'd seen them in action movies that Hiro and Fred like to watch sometimes. They were supposed to be skilled warriors, like knights or royal guards in his world, but they lacked any sort of heavy armor and used hand to hand combat more often.

Supposedly anyways. You could never be too sure how accurate a film was. But either way Varian didn't fancy his changes fighting them head on; especially while unarmed.

Yama flipped a light switch and Varian blinked rapidly at the sudden change. Once his eyes adjusted again he saw his first assessment of the room being a lab was correct. Not that he had time to really think about that because soon Yama was standing before him blocking his view.

The mob boss bent down till he was eye level to Varian and gave a cruel smile. "Well, well, we meet again. It's a small world after all." His grin became even wider and Varian's stomach dropped. This was about the money from the 'bot fight wasn't, or perhaps Yama still held a grudge over the insults he had cheekily hurled during their match. Either way, Varian sure he was as good as dead. It was funny though, in a way, of all the times he'd come close to death and yet it was here of all places he was going to meet his end.

"You're a smart kid ain't ya?" Yama continued. He picked up a small magnetic ball from off the table. It looked like the ones Sirque used in her portals. "My boss was very impressed by your breakthroughs in portal tech."

Varian raised an eyebrow. So this wasn't about revenge? Then what was it?

"You mean Sirque?" He asked.

"No, not her you nitwit!" Yama rolled his eyes. "The big boss. The one that pays us all. Haven't you been keeping up?"

"You mean the one that was trying to get rid of Momosake?"

"Now you're getting the picture."

"Did she rat me out?"

"Who knows," Yama shrugged, "All I know is that the boss wants to offer you a deal and I'm here to make it."

"You got a strange way of negotiating business." Varian pointed out drly.

Yama smiled again. This was his arena as much as the 'bot fight had been; dirty deals, intimidation tactics, and crooked schemes. He was every bit the stereotypical gangster, right down to the tax evasions and his little black book full of hit lists.

"Look, it's simple," he said as he slipped into his sleazy salesman act, "you build us a portal like the one you made that night. We provide you with all the tools and materials and when done, we let you go on your merry way with a nice fat paycheck."

"While you keep the patent and if I try to claim I'm the original inventor; I can expect to find myself wearing a pair of concrete shows at the bottom of the bay."

Yama chuckled with glee. "You really are a smart kid."

"I've been around." Varian said cooly.

"Then you'll know that if you refuse to take me up on my offer you can expect a fitting for those cement shoes tonight. "

Varian pressed his lips to stop himself from hurling a bunch of vitriol at Yama. Losing his temper right now wouldn't help. But he knew that any promises to release him were empty. Why pay someone off to keep quiet when you could just kill them and pocket the money for yourself?

"Is that what you did to Sirque?" He asked instead.

"Naw," Yama dismissed, "She still works for us. It's just good business to not put all your eggs in one basket, if ya know what I mean."

Varian didn't respond to that but silently eyed Yama up and down like he was a slayer wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Look, I can even call her up if you want." Yama said, sensing the boy's mistrust.

"She can tell you that we're on the up and up. Sirque can even tell you how much the boss pays her, and it's a pretty penny. I should know. I keep the books."

Varian chewed his bottom lip in thought. If Sirque was still around then why did they need him? Was she being held hostage too, or was she more free because she was in on the whole thing from the start? Maybe she hit a roadblock and that's why they needed him. Shoot maybe she was the one who cooked up this whole kidnapping plot to begin with? Who knew what the truth was?

All Varían knew was that he couldn't trust Yama any further than you could throw him, which wasn't far. But he needed to stall if he wanted to keep living.

"Ok, I'll do it."

Yama broke out into a sickening smile once more. "Good, I knew you'd see reason. Boys untie the kid!"

The two ninjas walked over and undid Varian binds. He stood up and rubbed his sore wrists as Yama finalized the terms of their agreement.

"We should have all the latest toys here that you need to get to work. If something is missing you can let us know and we'll get it for you. We'll bring ya a sandwich or something if ya get hungry and there's a bathroom in the back. Now this is important, so listen up, don't go thinking about escape. No dirty tricks or trying to contact the outside, or the deal is off and well, my two associates here will have to start getting rough. Got it!?"

He pointed at the two ninjas who stealthily took up their positions at either side of the room. Varian quickly darted his eyes about taking stock of the lab once more, noting where the two deadly assassins hired to guard him were placed. Nothing immediately stood out to him as being useful or practical for escape, but perhaps he could build himself something…

"Got it." He nodded and Yama smiled, shook his hand in a forceful manner, and then turned to leave; laughing all the way.

Left alone now, save for his two jailors, Varian got to work.

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

"Any luck?" Wasabi asked over the intercom.

"Not yet." Hiro replied as he and Baymax hovered over the city. The robot performed his typical bioscan searching for their missing friend.

"I touched back with Aunt Cass. She's called the police and Cruz is on the case now as well." Gogo chimed in.

"Yeah, well, it looks like he just found something." Fred responded from where he kept watch, right above the trolley stop where Varian was last seen. "Cruz just pulled up to the apartment complex down the street from Gogo and Honey Lemon's place."

"Okay, we'll meet you there." Hiro said as he ordered the rest of the gang to reconvene.

They arrived back at the bus stop just in time to see Officer Cruz and his men dragging El Feugo out of his apartment building.

"Oooh I knew he was up to something!" Honey Lemon shouted, and before her friends could stop her, she took off running towards the arrest in progress.

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

"What is the meaning of this!?" The wrestler bellowed. "I demand a lawyer!"

"You'll get one." Cruz said as he forcefully shoved the suspect into the back of the police van. But before he could close the door, he was greeted by one of the Big Hero Six members running up to meet them.

"What did you do to Varian!?" The tall one in pink armor yelled accusingly at the perpetrator.

She had to be held back back by her fellow superheroes, who rushed up to join them, before she could lunge at the man seated in the paddy wagon.

Chief Cruz was not amused.

"This is official police business. Vigilantes are not needed nor welcomed when making an arrest."

"Sorry Officer Cruz," the shortest of the team apologized. "We're just looking for a friend of ours. Did you find him?"

"That's classified information." He said and he turned to leave.

"Please?" The superhero asked again, the desperation in his voice was evident. Cruz ignored him as he finished closing the vehicle door. He then ordered his men to move out, leaving only himself, his deputy, and a few of the forensic team behind as the criminal was hauled away.

The superheroes didn't budge. They wouldn't leave until they heard a straightforward answer from him. Cruz sighed. It looked like he was going to have to drop the niceties and tell the ugly truth.

"No we did not find him." He said as he faced the gang once more. "We got an anonymous tip off that El Fuego was seen with the missing person last night and articles of the victim's clothing were found inside the suspect's apartment when we came to question him. Said suspect is wanted for breaking patrol and we'll be conducting further investigation at the station."

"Clothing?" The green suited hero asked.

As if in answer to this query, some of the forensic people started to load up some of the evidence into their van.

"I have found Varian's goggles." The largest of the heroes said while pointing to one of the sealed bags that they carried; it did indeed contain the aforementioned goggles. He was a very imposing looking figure in his red armor, but his voice sounded very soft and lilting; almost robotic even.

Cruz raised an eyebrow at him, "Got good eyesight, hun?"

"Just his goggles? That's all?" The shortest of the heroes despaired. "But that doesn't make any sense."

"And that's why you're only an amateur." Cruz berated. "Clearly this is more than just a one person job. El Feugo has to be working with someone else and he handed the boy off to them, and who knows how many kids might be involved in such a plot. The more you six keep butting in the more risk you take in tipping off El Feugo's accomplices."

"So you don't think Varian was taken for any specific reasons," the one in yellow stated, "you think he's just the latest victim of a larger scam."

Cruz narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "And why would anyone want to kidnap Varian especially?"

His question went ignored; instead the leader of the group tried to bargain with him.

"Look, we can help you find him, and any other missing kids. Bay--- Red Panda here has bio-scanners and-"

"And where did you get such tech?" Cruz interrupted. The superhero visibly stiffened at that question, clearly unwilling to answer.

"What aren't you telling me?" Cruz continued to press. He was rapidly losing patience with them. "You listen here, this isn't a game. There are lives on the line and I don't have time to play twenty questions. So answer me. What do you know about Varian's disappearance?"

"Nothing…. No more than you do anyways." The short hero responded. "I mean we have some theories but nothing substantial to back them up."

"Theories alone won't save lives," Cruz said. "You need to stay out of this. Leave it to the professionals. Cause I swear to you, if I have to go tell my best friend that I found her child lying dead in a gutter cause you went and hindered an investigation, I will throw the book at you."

This last threat seemed to finally get through to them. Cruz couldn't make out their faces clearly behind the heroes' tinted visors, but he swore he saw the smallest one fighting to blink back tears. He just hoped a stern rebuttal was all that it would take to keep the vigilantes at bay as he entered his police car and drove away; leaving the small group of 'crime fighters' standing forlornly on the sidewalk.

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

Varian carefully poured the battery acid out of the dismantled motor and into the glass. He had found it inside an emergency backup generator storaged next to computers. Varian guessed that his captors wanted the option to remain off grid in case they had to lie low from the authorities.

He stalled when a drop of the corrosive chemical spilled onto the table.

"Steady...steady…" He whispered to himself as he readjusted and continued to empty the motor's contents. He desperately wished for a pair of gloves or an apron, or something. The lab he was currently held in was more geared towards engineering and computer programming and sorely lacking in both chemistry sets and safety equipment.

He also didn't know where his goggles went. He figured they got knocked off during the struggle last night. Perhaps not the most pressing of matters at the moment, but the lost still pained him. He had so little left of his old life that he hated to lose anymore.

He finished transferring the acid into the cup and placed the motor down. Then he tried to think of his next step as he raised the glass to better see his handy work.

It wasn't much, but the small amount of liquid would have to do. His only hope was that; one, the ninjas were ignorant of chemistry and two, he could catch them off guard and throw the corrosive contents at them. He prayed that would be distraction enough to get beyond the door and then hopefully make his way to freedom.

It was a pitiful plan, he knew, but he was dealing with limited resources.

It was a plan destined to fail.

One of the ninjas came up from behind him and grabbed his wrist.

Varian let out a yelp of both pain and surprise. The warrior's grip was strong, more so than normal, and Varian felt like he was caught in a vise.

"Hey, I need that!" He protested as the ninja proceeded to move Varian's hand, and the glass full of acid with it, towards himself. Then without saying a word, the hired assassin used his free hand to grab the bottom of the glass and rip it away from Varian. He then tossed it into the trash nearby.

Well so much for that idea.

The ninja then released him and Varian ruefully tried to rub away the soreness in his wrist.

"How am I supposed to work like this?" Varian bluffed. "You asked me to build a portal for you and I got to have fuel to power it up, don't I?"

His guard didn't respond and instead took up his position next to the door once more.

Varian rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. He was making a show of his displeasure in order to hide the panic rising up within him.

What now? He thought. His eyes scanned the room once more and landed upon the other guard that stood at the opposite end of the room. Varian glared at him; almost challenging the ninja to say or do, well, something , anything.

"Can I get that sandwich y'all promised?" He sarcastically asked. But still neither of his captors said anything.

It was unnerving the way they never talked. It didn't help that their masks covered their whole face either. Varian supposed it was made of some sort of mesh that allowed the wearer to see out but from his point of view it just looked like they didn't have a face at all. It was just a formless black void where the eyes and mouth should have been.

That was probably the point; an intimidation tactic while also allowing them to keep their anonymity. Didn't stop him from being creeped out by them though.

Varian sighed deeply in resignation. His usual tricks just weren't going to help him here, and there was no way he could fight off both of them. He was way out matched, he knew.

So I guess there's nothing to it but to give Yama what he wants. Varian thought. Then another realisation struck him. "That's it! I'll make him portal alright!" He yelled to no one in particular. Let the guards hear him. All he was going to do was precisely what was asked of him, and it was going to be brilliant.

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

The Big Hero Six gang huddled upon a rooftop as they discussed what to do next.

"It just doesn't make sense." Fred said as he rubbed his chin in thought. He was perched on top of the ledge, looking for all the world like a gargoyle come to life. "El Fuego only ever cared about proving himself the best fighter. Why would he suddenly start abducting people?"

"Didn't you hear officer Cruz?" Wasabi replied."Someone else must have paid him to do it. He's just in it for the money."

"No, no, that still doesn't add up." Fred shook his head. "He just got back into wrestling. He shouldn't need the money, and why would he risk losing his dream job by committing a felony? Not to mention just leaving an article of your victim's clothing right there in your apartment, now that's just sloppy… amateurish even."

"Well no one said El Fuego was the brightest bulb in the box." Hiro chimed in as he read Baymax's latest scan readings.

"What are you getting at Fred?" Gogo asked.

"It smells like a setup to me." Fred answered. "It's a classic frame job. Just plant the evidence in the poor sap's apartment in order to throw the cops off your own trail."

"You can't be serious," came Honey Lemon's sardonic retort.

Everyone looked at her in surprise. She had been silently stewing over in the corner since they parted ways with the police. Now she was glaring daggers right at Fred as she crossed her arms and drummed her fingers.

No one ever knew what to do when Honey Lemon got angry about something. It was such a rare occurrence, like an ice storm in May. Sure, it technically could happen and has before, but you're never expecting it when it does.

Fortunately Fred was spared her chilly wrath when Gogo's phone rang.

"Hello? Yeah, hold on." She removed the phone from her ear. " It's Carl." She said as she pressed the speaker button.

"Hey, I just heard about El Fuego's arrest." Carl's voice rang out. "Did the police find anything?"

"No." Hiro told him. "They think he was working for someone else but they don't know who."

"I might know," Came Carl's weary response. "Some old associates of mine contacted me about a job. I told them I wasn't interested, but they then started asking about Varian. I thought they were trying to recruit him into their gang, and in no uncertain terms, I told them to leave the kid alone or risk losing their spleens. But it's starting to look like my words fell on deaf ears." He gave a heavy sigh. "Look, Globby and I are at Good Luck Alley right now doing some snooping. I don't wanna say too much over the phone in case anyone is eavesdropping. Why don't you meet us somewhere more secure?"

"We could meet you back at the apartments." Gogo suggested.

"Sounds good. I'll see ya there in a few, then." He then hung up.

As everyone made ready to leave, Hiro spotted the police van carrying El Fugeo stop at a red light beneath them.

"You guys go ahead and meet up with Carl. Baymax and I are going to go interrogate our westling friend down there before he gets to the station."

"I'm going with you." Honey Lemon said.

"Alright. As soon as you learn anything, call us and we'll do the same." Hiro ordered as he and Baymax flew down to meet the armored vehicle with Honey Lemon following closely behind.

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

El Fuego felt the police van rock wildly as something heavy landed on the vehicle's roof. Then a green substance started to seep through the ceiling in a bubbling ring; eating away at the metal like acid. Suddenly a strong arm punched the deteriorated circle and the metal clattered to the floor as three members of Big Hero Six swooped in.

"Where's Varian!?" The tall woman growled as she snatched him by the shirt collar and practically lifted him off the ground.

"I don't know." The wrestler insisted.

"You were with him last night and the police found his goggles in your apartment." The shortest superhero said. "Please, we just want to find him, and if you know anything at all about where he might be you need to tell us before he gets hurt."

El Fugeo gave a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I know something. But I'm not the one who kidnapped him! I don't play that game."

"Then who did?" The short superhero pressed.

"Yama. Two of his goons approached me last night before the show about 'a job'. I told them I wasn't interested and that I had a fight to win. Turns out they were after the kid. What for, I don't know, but I had just met him earlier that day. He happens to be a fan of mine. Well I wasn't about to let one of my fans get accosted, was I? So I walked him and his girlfriend to the bus and saw them safely home. It was easy to, since they didn't live far from me. I even gave them a couple of tickets to tonight's match, just so that I could keep an eye on them. I figured if Yama's paid thugs showed up I could scare them off ya know."

The heroes frowned. "You mean you were trying to help?" The short one asked. "Then why didn't you contact the police?"

"Oh sure, with my record? I'm trying to keep out of jail, remember? Also how was I to know the chump would leave his girl's apartment in the middle of the night? Geez that aunt of his must be one chapada a la antigua, am I right?"

He wasn't sure what he had said wrong, but El Fuego found himself being roughly shoved back into his seat as the tall woman angrily flung him away from her grasp. Then without another word she jumped out of the vehicle the way she had come, her special boots springing her upwards at a height most normal people could never achieve.

The other two followed after her.

"Hey wait!" He called out and the short superhero stuck his head back down to see what the wrestler wanted. "I...I hope you find him." He sincerely said.

The superhero nodded. "Yeah, me too." The crack in his voice was evident even to El Fugeo.

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

Hiro joined Honey Lemon and Baymax on the nearest rooftop.

Honey Lemon stood stock still, her hands clenched into fists, as she watched the police van leave.

"He's such a jerk!" She suddenly fumed.

"Yeah, you're right, he is," Hiro agreed, "but he's also innocent."

Honey Lemon looked at him in surprise, but Hiro pressed on.

"I think he's telling the truth. His story confirms what Carl said earlier and we both know Yama would have reasons to kidnap Varian. I think El Fuego was legitimately trying to help, in his own annoying way."

Honey Lemon opened her mouth to retort but nothing came out as she racked her brain for a counter argument. She then sobbed as she flopped down on the ledge and pulled her helmet off.

"But doesn't it make you angry?" She cried. "Varian's still missing and that… that creep , he… ooooh.." She couldn't even form words through her rage.

"I'm too scared to get angry right now." Hiro quietly admitted.

This stopped Honey Lemon from launching into another rant. Instead she gave him a pout as she blinked back tears.

"Our only hope right now," Hiro continued, "is that Yama nabbed him because that crime boss he works for wanted Varian' s portal tech, and not, you know, for revenge. Cause if this is about the money he lost in the bot fight then… then Varian could already be seriously hurt." He sighed and took a seat next to Honey Lemon. "Maybe Cruz is right. Maybe we're only making things worse."

"Y-you can't mean that."

"What happens to Varian if that crime lord figures out we're on to him? Hun? What happens if Yama knows we're involved, cause he hates us too. Or, you know, maybe it's our fault for giving Varian that portal tech in the first place! O-or if we hadn't chased Mr. Sparkles down when he stole that first portal, then the two wouldn't have reconnected and Varian could be back safe in his world an-"

"Stop it." Honey Lemon said softly. She locked eyes with Hiro. "Stop blaming yourself for things you can't control. You had no idea that this would happen. No one did, and you are not responsible for what Yama does."

Hiro reflected on her words but didn't respond. She was right, he knew, but that didn't stop the guilt bubbling in his chest.

"Also Varian's world is even more dangerous than this one." She went on. "So it's a good thing he came here and met us. That's why we're going to bring his father here once he gets the portal working. Which he will, I'm sure. So will find Varian, rescue his dad, and then we'll all be together. Everyone will be safe and we'll all live happily ever after!"

She flashed him her usual cheerful smile, but it quickly faded as she noted Hiro's mournful eyes.

"C-cause after all, no one deserves to lose as much as we have." She uttered as if trying to convince herself more than anything. "Surely the universe isn't that cruel."

Both teens sat in silence for several minutes as Baymax continued his bioscan of the city.

"There's an incoming call coming from Gogo." The robot announced.

"Yeah, put her on speaker." Hiro said.

"Hey," the other girl's voice rang out, "Carl and Globby found a lead."

"Where?"

"Down by the docks. Meet us at Ryōshi Warf."

"Okay. We're on our way."

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

"So, how's things going?" Yama bellowed as he slammed the door to the lab open.

Varian visibly jumped at the intrusion but quickly gathered his wits about him. 'Never let your captor know how scared you really are of them', was a lesson Varian had to learn the hard way back in prison.

"It's going well." He said eveningly. "In fact I was just about to do a test run. Would you like to watch?"

Yama cocked a grin. This was going better than he had planned. He had originally expected the inventing process to take at least a few days, and probably would have required some more 'persuasion' tactics to go with it. But nope, the kid had finished in record time and was being very cooperative. The boss would be very pleased if Yama could show up tomorrow with a working portal. You know, after, he 'test ran' it on a few banks first.

"Alright, lets see it kid. Whatcha got?"

Varian picked up a remote control off the table and scooped up the magnetic balls that had belonged Sirque. The whole set up was similar to his first go at a portable portal, back when he and his friends had faced off with the acrobatic thief. However, this time he had built a computer interface into the remote instead of the more simple dial he had originally used. He had also programmed ways to gauge the velocity and temperature of the portal to keep it from overheating like last time.

"Okay, pick a place." He told the mob boss. "Though it needs to be within city limits since this is a short range test."

Yama rolled his shoulders and pursed his lips in thought. "Hmm… try the abandoned fisherman's warehouse on Canary street. I was thinking of making that a new bot fighting arena. We could check it out real quick."

Varian tried to slow his racing heart as he entered the coordinates. He had only one shot at this.

He then threw the magnets into the air and flipped a switch on the remote. The balls began to spin in the air as they linked up and a portal began to form.

It came out right next to the warehouse.

"Haha! Good work kid!" Yama laughed as he good naturedly slapped Varian across the back. He nearly stumbled from the force, but righted himself quickly as Yama walked through the portal.

The mobster then turned around towards him and beamed. "Now we gotta hit up some banks! Can you make a portal inside a safe or better yet, inside a jewelry store?"

"Sure thing." Varian lied as he went and flipped the switch off on the remote. The portal promptly closed, leaving Yama stranded on the docks.

The ninjas immediately started to close in on Varian.

"Woah, woah, no need to get angry. It was just an accident. Look, the coordinates are still set. All I have to do is turn the portal on again and he can come back. See?"

Varian held up the remote so that his jailors could read the screen for themselves. They paused in their tracks, though one still loomed threateningly over him. He gulped as he flipped the switch once more.

The magnets floated back up into the air of their own accord and then proceeded to spin again. However this time the portal opened up over on the opposite side of the warehouse, back behind the street.

Varian steeled himself as he made a fist.

"This biggest, ugliest, bully you can think of."

He recalled Carl's advice as he swung with all his might and punched the ninja nearest to him in the jaw.

There was a sickening, unnatural crunching sound that Varian didn't want to think too hard about as he jumped through the portal.

Once through he quickly switched the remote off.

He turned around, and to his horror he saw the other ninja following after him through the rapidly shrinking portal. Varian tried to call out a warning to him, but it was too late. The portal closed, cutting off the ninja's right arm. But it wasn't blood that spilled from the wound. Instead electricity sparked from severed wires as the relentless robot stalked towards Varian.

"Oh no."

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

"I have found Varian." Baymax calmly stated.

The robot had never ceased running his bioscanners throughout the day. While his humans discussed strategy, he had kept a lookout on the edge of the pier as he scanned the boardwalk and docks.

"Wait. Really?" Hiro hopefully asked.

"Way to go Baymax! Alright!" Fred cheered and offered the droid a customary high five.

"Where is he?" Gogo asked.

"Over there, at the abandoned warehouse." He dutifully replied.

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

They found Yama outside talking on his cellphone as they approached the fishing warehouse.

"Listen up! I need you bozos to bring a car around and pick me up. I'm at the doc-"

"You're not going anywhere!" Wasabi said as the heroes surrounded the villain.

Honey Lemon threw some of her chimballs at him and a purple substance encased Yama's feet pinning him in place.

"Where's Varian?" Gogo asked, but before the mobster could answer Baymax chimed in.

"Varian is that way." He pointed towards the warehouse once more.

Yama looked confused. "I left the kid at the hideout. He shouldn't be here."

"Wasabi, Fred, stay with Yama and keep a lookout." Hiro said. "See if you can get any more information out of him while you're at it. Gogo and Honey Lemon, check the building. I'm going to fly up with Baymax and see if we can pinpoint Varian's location better."

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

Varian ran, but his pursuer was close behind. He knew he couldn't out run the robot, but there was little else to do. He dodged a shuriken as it whizzed through the air and dove down the nearest alley.

Dead end.

He turned to face his attacker; casting his eyes about desperately looking for anything to defend himself with. He found nothing.

The faceless android strode forward without remorse and Varian did the only thing he could. He threw up his fists, planted his feet, and took up the defensive position Carl had taught him.

The robot threw its last shuriken and Varian ducked to miss it. He then quickly stood back up just in time to block a blow from the deadly droid.

It hurt, but not as much as a busted nose would have. He then blocked a second punch, and then a third.

The ninja fell back and decided to give a roundhouse kick instead. Varian flopped down to avoid it and the robot's foot lodged itself into the brick wall.

Varian took this as an opportunity to kick back from where he sat on the ground. It wasn't nearly as graceful nor as strong as his opponent's had been but it managed to knock the android off balance anyway.

That was when Baymax and Hiro arrived.

Varian nearly cried with relief as the larger robot shot out his rocket punch and sent the fake ninja slamming into the wall before it shortcurited and crumbled up into a heap.

Hiro tore off his helmet. "Are you alright?"

"I think-" before he could finish the younger teen grabbed into a tight hug. "...so."

Varian stared down at the other boy, waiting for him to let go, but he didn't relinquish his grip. That's when Varian noticed that Hiro was crying.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Honest." Varian awkwardly said as he tried his best to comfort the other kid.

Hiro sniffled and tried to compose himself before letting go. "Baymax, do a scan." He ordered.

"You appeared to have suffered no major injuries. However traumatic events can cause psychological stress. I recommend talking with your ther-"

"It's okay Baymax." Varian interrupted. "I'm fine. Thank you, though."

"Then I am also glad that you are alright." The robotic nurse opened his arms wide and gave Varian a hug as well. "There, there." It said as it patted his head and Varian had to stifle a laugh.

"We better meet up with the others." Hiro said.

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

There were more hugs waiting for Varian when they rejoined the rest of the gang on the docks. Honey Lemon in particular just about squeezed all the air out of his lungs.

"So let me get this straight?" Fred asked, "You got to fight off a robot ninja!?"

"Two of them."

"Awe, I am so jelly!"

"So what do we do about Yama here?" Wasabi asked.

Hiro walked up to the mob boss and started to interrogate him "Who's this Bosu?"

"I'm not squealing." Yama said. "I know my rights, and you armored droks ain't cops."

"Well okay then," Gogo taunted. "I guess we'll just call the cobs and leave you to them."

Yama made a displeased face but still said no more.

"We'll drop you off at the police station, Varian." Hiro said. "You can tell Cruz about El Fuego's innocence and he'll take you home. Gogo phone ahead and let the police know where Yama is. You and Wasabi can stay behind and guard him till they arrive."

"Got it."

"Honey Lemon, will you let Carl and Globby know what's going on. Tell them they can call off the search."

She hummed her acknowledgement.

"What about me?" Fred asked.

"You wanna take Minimax and do tonight's patrol?" Hiro asked.

"On it." He saluted.

And with that Hiro and Varian hopped on Baymax's back and flew away.

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

Aunt Cass was waiting for Varian when he and Chief Cruz pulled up. He barely made it through the door of the cafe before she flung herself at him and asked him a million and one questions.

Where had he been? What happened? Was he hurt? Was he hungry? Did they need to call the doctor? And so on and so on…

Varian answered them as best he could, conveniently leaving out Hiro's involvement.

"Well looks like my job here is done." Cruz said as he took his leave.

"Thank you Diego. I don't know what we would do without you." Aunt Cass said.

"Naw, don't mention it. I'm just doing my duty, besides Varian's quick thinking is what got him out of that mess. It's a good thing you're talking self defense classes at the gym. I always recommend young people should know self defense of some kind."

They then exchanged goodbyes and Cruz left.

"And you didn't want me to learn boxing." Varian teased.

However Aunt Cass only looked at him with tearful eyes.

"What is it?"

She sighed. "How does one boy find himself in so much trouble so often?"

Varian felt his cheeks flush and he lowered his eyes. He waited on another lecture, but it never came.

"I know, it's not your fault." She said as she lifted his face. "It's just…so… so… bizzare. You escape one death trap only to fall right into another." She blinked in bafflement. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"Noooo, no, of course not. It's not your fault either that Yama's a jerk."

"But I'm supposed to protect you." She insisted and then pressed her forehead against his.

"And you're doing great at it." Varian said as he pulled away to look her in the eye.

"You could say that again." Hiro proclaimed as he came down stairs to join them.

Aunt Cass gave them both a grateful smile before scooping them into a family group hug.

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

"List Newton's Three Laws of Motion." Honey Lemon read off the study sheet in her hand.

"Every object in a state of uniform motion will remain in that state of motion unless an external force acts on it.

Force equals mass times acceleration.

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." Varian rattled off.

He had only heard of Isaac Newton upon coming to this world, but the famed alchemist's theories and equations weren't too far off from Varian's on calculations. Turns out that he only predated the physicist by about ten years.

"Annd that's it. We're done with the practice test." Honey Lemon said.

"Woot!" Varian cheered and threw his arms up in the air. "How did I do?"

"You got every question right, except for Einstein's birthday."

Varian curled his lip in irritation. "It's a physics exam, not a history test."

This only sent Honey Lemon into a fit of giggles. It was good to hear her laughing again. He hadn't seen her smile since the wrestling match two days ago, but she had cheered up considerably since then and now they were back in her apartment resuming their studies.

"Do you wanna break for lunch?" He asked.

"Sure."

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

They found their friends all at Joe's Diner. Including, Carl, Globby, and El Fuego.

"Ah if it isn't my fans!" The wrestler called out.

Varian stiffened and gave Honey Lemon a side glance. But the other girl just continued to smile, and was a genuine smile at that.

"Hi." She sang as she walked over to join everyone and Varian allowed himself to relax.

"Globby here was just telling us about his newest passion project." Wasabi explained as they sat down.

"I call it the S.R.S." Globby excitedly went on. "The Supervillain Reform School! It'll be a support group for former villains and convicts trying to get back up on their feet and reenter society. What do ya think?"

"I think it's a great idea." Hiro chimed in.

"Yeah and if you need any help let us know." Honey Lemon added.

"And I'll be the first graduate, hey amigo." El Fuego laughed as he playfully nudged Globby in his non-existent ribs.

"Oooh I smell a former super villain turned heroes team up in the air!" Fred said as he practically vibrated with excitement.

Carl chuckled, "Well I don't know about that, but it'll be a great way to give back to the community and help out some of the younger folks who keep getting dragged into the constant turf wars around here. Hopefully give them some opportunities besides taking dirty deals from Yama and whatever new crime lord pops up each month."

"That's really cool of you guys." Gogo said.

Varian agreed, in fact the whole idea intrigued him immensely. "Do ya need any extra members? You know just to get the ball rolling."

"Sure!" Globby exclaimed. "The more the merrier! You can help Carl out with the youth outreach!"

"Glad to have ya on bored buddy." Carl said as he gave a Varian a fist bump.

"Well then I propose a toast to the new S.R.S.!" Honey Lemon cheered as she raised her milkshake up and everyone followed suit.

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

An ancient hand drummed it fingers upon the mahogany desk in irritation.

Of course that idiot Yama got himself captured.

Time for a new plan.

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

If you like any of my work you can support me by leaving a tip on my ko-fi.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#of rocks and robots #Hiro Hamada #varian #bh6 #tangled

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mysterioh · 4 years

Text

The Ignorant Beauty and the Beast of New York - Ch. 4

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

Wherefore Art Thou My Fair Juliet?

“Future Mrs. Rogers, huh?”

Steve looks up from the manifest in his hand with a shy smile. “Well, um,-”

“Save it, punk,” Bucky stopped him. Steve raised a brow at him, trying to read him. Bucky smirked devilishly. “She’s cute.”

“Back off she’s mine,” Steve said playfully, leaning back in his office chair and hooking his leg over the other.

“Sure about that?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, pulling a chair back to take a seat. “I don’t think she really likes you.”

“What would make you say that?”

“Well for starters she called you a dirty, ugly mobster,” Bucky recalled.

“Ain’t she the cutest?” Steve chuckled like a child.

“Steve, that’s not how it works.”

“Okay, so she’s a bit brash,” Steve said sitting up. “Nothing wrong with that. I like that. Think it’s really hot.” Bucky nodded not really knowing how to reply to that. “I really think she likes me, Buck, we really connected at the museum.”

“The museum?”

“Yeah, that’s where I met her first.” Steve informed, “on Saturday.”

“She likes art then?” Bucky asked.

Steve shakes his head with a smile, his thoughts returning to that day. “Not at all. She’s a dunce when it comes to art. But don’t get me wrong she’s really smart. She’s one of those science nerds.”

“How lovely,” Bucky said, resting the side of his face in his hand while leaning on the desk. “What’s her name again? Rosy?”

“No that’s not her real name,” Steve replied. “That’s just what I call her.”

Bucky furrows his brows. “Then what’s her real name?”

A sudden realization comes to him. He sits straight with a blank expression. “I don’t know…”

Bucky’s head dips with a tired sigh. Steve could have been his best friend. He could’ve been the man with over half of New York under his control. He was the most brilliant mind in the business world - legal and illegal. But when it came to the dating scene, he was a total dud. A simpleton. A hopeless romantic and hopeless in all things regarding romance.

“So let me get this straight,” Bucky said with his hands. “You spent an entire morning with this chick. Supposedly had a “connection” with her but you didn’t have the decency to introduce yourself?”

“It was a complicated morning,” Steve retorted. “I didn’t even have my morning coffee.”

“That’s no excuse!” Bucky replied. “No wonder she hates you.”

“She doesn’t hate me.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, whatever you say ugly, dirty mobster.”

Steve huffs with his lips in a frown. “She was just a little freaked out, is all! I mean it’s not every day you witness a violent shakedown. You guys overdid it.” Steve crossed his arms.

Bucky looks at the man incredulously. “You told us to show the kid what a Brooklyn beating looks like.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to go overboard,” he retorted. “You scared the poor girl. There’s just so much a pretty heart like that can take. You dirty ugly mobster. How could you?”

“Oh please forgive me,” Bucky sassed, sinking in his seat.

The two sit in silence for a few minutes. Steve sat with a frown on his face. How could he have been so stupid? Why didn’t he ask for your name? No wonder you thought he was a creep. You probably thought he was just trying to get into your pants.

Steve, you stupid man, can’t you do anything right?!?!

“So what’re you gonna do now?” Bucky breaks the silence.

Steve looks up at him with a sad pout. A light in his brain flips on and his frown turns upside down. “You’re gonna find out who she is.”

“What?” Bucky said, hurling himself forward. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” Steve smiled. “You’re gonna find out who she is and tell me. It’s your new job.”

“That’s not in my contract.” Bucky retorted.

“Yeah, well now it is,” Steve replied, gathering his things. “Take Sam and the kid with ya.”

“Are you nuts?” Bucky roared. “There’s no way we can do that! There’s like a billion girls in the city!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around. “It’ll take years!”

But there’s only one Rosy. Steve thought to himself with a far-off look.

Steve smirks as he gets up. He walks past his friend and opens the door, his keys dangling in his hand. “Then I guess you better get started.”

You walked down the sidewalk, your hair fluttering in the air and clothes clinging to your body with your arms tightly wrapped around the textbook in your hand bracing yourself from the cold winter air.

Your thoughts were stuck in the clouds making you feel out of breath and slightly dizzy. They were thoughts of a certain mobster hottie. They weren’t romantic thoughts per se. More like a mixture of confusion and fear.

Who would’ve thought the harmless freak from the museum would end up being the most dangerous man in the city. But then again, not everything was as it seemed. Your thoughts were wrapped in him. How sweet and sassy he was at the museum and how different he was at the cafe.

His eyes were cold and his aura was intimidating, but quickly switched to flirty and sweet when he saw you. That was what scared you the most.

So absorbed in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the urban decay surrounding you. The decrepit pavement that looked as if it was slammed with a sledgehammer. The once perfect and smooth concrete was now broken into a network of cracks, many of them colonized by weeds.

So wrapped up in the way his eyes twinkled and smile shined, you forgot where you were going or who was around you. People were walking by, heads topped with wool hats and bodies wrapped in uncomfortable layers of flannel and duffel. There was a boy that was walking home with you, who just so happened to notice you weren’t listening to him and he found it very annoying.

“Y/N?” Quentin called. “Y/N? Earth to moron! Y/N!” he shakes his hand in front of your face.

“Huh?”

“You weren’t listening to me,” he frowned.

“I was,” you lied.

“Then what did I say?”

You smiled sheepishly and he rolled his eyes.

“My roommate’s going out of town this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to come over? We can order a pizza and study for ochem? Maybe play some Gears?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” you agreed with a smile.

Quentin smiles in excitement, his grip on his bag tightening. It’s been a while since the two of you had a study date.

“What’s with you?” he changes the topic. “You’ve been out of it lately.”

“I’m fine,” you murmured.

“No you’re not,” he deadpanned.

“I’m just tired,” you replied. “That’s all.”

“Something tells me it’s not,” he said. “Call it my “best friend since sixth grade” sixth sense.”

You chuckled at him. You’ve known Quentin for a really long time. He was the first person to accept you.

You didn’t have the best school experience. While other girls found sweet love notes in their lockers you found scraps of paper telling you to kill yourself, that you were the ugliest girl in school. No one wanted to be your partner in gym class. No one asked you out to a homecoming dance or invited you to sit with them during lunch.

You were unwanted and alone and learned to accept it. If your own parents didn’t accept you then why would anyone else?

That was until you met Quentin. He asked to sit next to you in science class on his first day and you were speechless when he did. It only got better as the days went by. He sat with you during lunch. He made you laugh in the library until the librarian kicked you out. He made you feel wanted and special.

“Well?” he called you back. “You gonna tell me?”

“It’s nothing,” you assured.

“Y/N,” he doted like a father.

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t quit until you told him. The grip on your book tightens as you shrink into your scarf.

“I met this guy,” you confessed with a light blush.

Quentin chuckles at your cute behavior, but for some reason, it hurts a little. “That’s good.”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not good.”

He raises a brow. “Why not?”

“Because he’s bad,” you told him.

He furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“He’s bad.”

“Bad in like he’s hot?”

“No!” you replied quickly. Well,…he was hot. “I’m talking about the other kinda bad.”

Quentin chuckles. “I didn’t know you were into bad boys,” he wiggled his brows.

“It’s not like that!”

“Then what is it like?”

“I don’t know…bad,” you reiterated. You didn’t really want to give him the details. He’d only worry, possibly scold you for talking to strangers, and you really didn’t need that right now. “He’s nice just a bit…strange.”

“Want me to kick someone’s ass?” he asked.

You shake your head with a chuckle. “No, not yet. I think I can handle it.”

Quentin frowns a bit, but you didn’t really notice. He didn’t like how vague you were being or how the idea of some guy bothering you was stuck in his head now. But he didn’t show it. You were strong and knew how to take care of yourself. He knew how much you liked your space. But even then, it didn’t stop him from worrying. It didn’t stop him from wishing you’d open just a bit after all these years. He never told you that though. He always had a way of hiding his feelings when it came to you.

Your lips slanted into a downward curve and brows furrowed in concentration. Quentin wraps an arm around your shoulders, shaking you out of your daze. You turn to look at him and he has a wide smile on his face.

“Come on, let’s go get some coffee,” he said.

“I’m broke at the moment,” you reminded him.

“On me then,” he offered, “we gotta get you back down to earth.”

You chuckled following him. He always had a way of making you feel better.

“Man this is the stupidest shit I’ve ever done,” Sam groaned.

“Not as stupid as the time you licked that water pipe in ten-degree weather,” Bucky stated.

“In my defense, I was drunk off my ass.”

“You actually did that,” Peter asked from the back of the car. “Wow, even I’m not that stupid.”

Sam turned around to glare at the boy. Peter melted into the leather seat in fear.

“Why did we bring him with us?”

“Steve said so,“ Bucky answered, lighting up a cigarette.

Sam groaned loudly. "First we get stuck with this horrible job then we gotta drag the kid with us. He’ll just slow us down!"

"I’m faster than you, Grandpa,” Peter sassed making Bucky snort with the stick in his mouth.

“It’s taking every ounce of goodness in me to not beat the crap out of you right now,” Sam told him.

“That’s child abuse and I’ll report you."

Sam faces forwards, murmuring under his breath. "I will not kill the kid. I will not kill the kid."

"Hey, Pete, wanna smoke?” Bucky asked, pointing the box towards him.

“Sure,” he reached out for one.

Bucky smacks him on the back of the head. “Don’t even think about, punk, you’re underage."

"Then why’d you offer?” Peter asked annoyed, rubbing the back of his head.

“I was testing ya,” Bucky replied. “And now that I know, if I catch you smoking I’m kicking your butt. You hear that?"

"Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?"

"Yes sir,” Peter corrected himself. The boy leaned against the car door, peeking out the window watching pedestrians walk by. “Uh, Sir?"

"What is it, kid?” Sam asked.

“If we’re supposed to find some girl shouldn’t we be outside? Why are we sitting in the car?"

It’s quiet for a minute. Peter raises a brow at the two.

"It’s cold outside,” Bucky confessed.

Peter’s lips parted slightly in shock. Some ruff-n-tuff mobster you are.

“I mean do you really want to go searching for the girl?” Sam asked him. “We’ll just sit around for a while and tell the big guy we can’t find her."

"But that’s not honest!” Peter sits up, squeezing into the small space between them.

Bucky laughs at him. “This is the mob, kid, honesty doesn’t exist around here."

Peter frowns and crosses his arms while sitting back. "It’s still wrong. The boss really likes this girl. Shouldn’t we help?"

"We’ll be helping him by not finding the girl,” Sam informed. “Trust us when we say that the boss’ had his fair share of heartbreak. The last thing he needs is another girl."

"What do you mean?"

"It’s a long story,” Bucky tried to change the topic. “I’ll tell you some other time. But don’t go blabbin’ to the boss that we told you that. Ya hear?"

Peter nodded in curiosity. The mob boss was suffering from heartbreak?

"Holy shit, Buck, it’s her!” Sam exclaimed, pointing out the windshield.

Bucky almost drops his cigarette in surprise. “Oh my god, what do we do?"

"Get out of the car, we can’t lose her!” Sam shouted, opening the door to his side.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to find her."

"She’s right there, Pete, we can’t just let her go,” Bucky said, getting out of the car. “Now get out of the damn car!"

Peter gets out of the car with a groan. These two were beyond confused and now they were getting him confused.

"Now what do we do?” Peter said, feeling stupid by just being next to the two.

“Uhm,” Bucky thought. He pushes Peter in your direction. “Go talk to her.”

“What!? Why me?!” Peter questioned.

“Because…” Sam started. “This is…this is your initiation into the gang."

"Yeah, that’s what this is,” Bucky pointed up. “Now hurry up before she gets away."

"You’re just pulling that out of your ass!” Peter retorted. “I’m not gonna go talk to some girl I’ve never met before. That’s weird."

"Listen, punk, you either do it or you’re dead,” Sam threatened. “I don’t think you’ve seen what a real Brooklyn beating looks like."

Peter gulps. He turns to see you and a boy walking away, slowly fading from his view.

"What’s it gonna be then?"

"Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” Peter assured. He turned on his heel, his steps getting wider to catch up. “Lazy ass mobsters,” he grunted.

“I heard that asshole!"

TAGLIST: @ashwarren32 @rootcrop @siriusement @savedbystark @little-dark-empress @great-goddess-of-sin @boxofteenageideas @imsonick @scuzmunkie @achishisha @calwitch @chuckennuggets1213

A/N: Hi, i tagged everyone from my old taglist as well. hope that isn’t a problem. I’m up to date with chapters prior to deleting so next chapter will be new for the old tagged people. Have a nice day!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mob!steve #steve rogers imagine #mafia!steve #mob!steve rogers x reader #mobster steve rogers x reader

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sometimesrosy · 4 years

Note

I do also just want to point out for sake of being devil’s advocate that just because you like/love a show doesn’t mean it’s well written. Or that it’s without fault or bad moments. Some people will defend a dumb show to save their life (riverdale comes up)

Well let me just devil’s advocate back at you and say, if they enjoy the show and love the show and are carried away by the show then SOMETHING about that show is doing it’s job.

Which means it’s not bad, it’s good.

Maybe it’s cheese. Maybe it’s cornball. Maybe it’s fluffy. Maybe it’s even stupid. Maybe that’s what it’s intended to be and maybe that’s what the audience wants.

Not all art has to be high art. Not all shows have to be tackling the Serious Issues Of The Day. Not all stories have to be Pulitzer Prize winning level of stories.

In fact, I’d suggest that expecting “Serious Works Of Art” from television and calling everything that falls short “bad,” is actually a way to ruin all content for yourself.

There is NO show, story, book or movie that is without faults. None. Even the best masterpiece has its flaws. In fact, the movie that continues to top lists on the best film of all time is Citizen Kane, which, no matter how beautifully it’s shot and arranged is, lets face it. Boring.

I’ve seen it. I’ve studied it. I took film classes to analyze it. Still boring. To me that’s a pretty big flaw.

What exactly is so fascinating about a deep dive into why a powerful and wealthy white man is dissatisfied with all his power and wealth? I’ll be honest with you, in my decade of being a lit geek, I got SICK of the lit fic and serious film obsession with the deep and valuable state of white people angst, and I decided that I actually prefer genre work. I find it more worthy than a lot of the “important” work. Please understand...I’m not speaking from ignorance. I DO understand lit fic and fine films, I understand what’s good in them, and I love some of it. I just don’t think it’s automatically superior to genre stories.

So, to be a devil’s advocate, I’d like to suggest that if a flawed book or movie or show, let’s pick Twilight, which is terribly written, can keep you engaged for the whole thing, desperate to know what happens next and invested in the character’s stories, then IT is good, and has done something right.

The first time I read Twilight I threw that book across the room, it was so bad. And then I went running after it so I could keep reading. WHAT did she do right in that book to hook her audience so thoroughly? Flat characters, suspect underlying philosophy, clunky writing... and yet... compelling story, heightened narrative tension, and she must have hooked into some sort of deep archetypal yearning.

So here’s what I’d suggest for all the “devil’s advocates” running around calling genre stories bad, or romance stories cheesy, or YA stories trash: Take a moment and check to see if it’s not your classism and misogyny showing. If society has told you certain stories about certain people meant for certain audiences told a certain way are worthy (OMG ENOUGH ABOUT WWII ALREADY) and other stories are dismissed purely for categorical reasons.

If you look at a genre work, and dismiss all the elements of genre (fantasy, romance, tropes, conventions, action, melodrama) as what makes it inferior, and you look at ANOTHER type of story (literary, serious film, war movies, gangster movies, historical dramas, post-modernism, etc) and pretend that there aren’t genre elements, tropes, and conventions in that which simply have a higher status than so called “genre” work, then I’d say you aren’t questioning your biases inherited from this classist, racist, and misogynistic society. If you think intellectuals, academics and artists are not steeped in all those isms, then you would be wrong.

I mean. WHAT is the obsession with men killing people? War movies, mob movies, cop movies. Why are THESE things seen as more important than women and men finding love and self worth? Or archetypal stories found in fantasy about good and evil that play on a subconscious level? Or the speculation in science fiction about what it means to be human in an inhuman world?

Nothing. There’s nothing better about these stories. But we’ve been convinced they are better, and the mockery we give to teen stories, or post apocalyptic actions scifi stories, or romances, is actually a sign that our own minds have been colonized by those who think their stories are more important.

AND I’d further submit that when we look at a story and dismiss it as trash, and highlight all its faults without looking at its successes and label it as ‘bad,’ that we are not only being dominated by the accepted version of worthy stories, the default story, but we are also trying to dominate those genres stories and the people who enjoy them, and place ourselves OVER them.

It’s a way to feel superior to other people, a way to dismiss their stories and their value in the human story. Critics often confuse criticism with critiquing. Criticism is focused on negatives and what is bad, while critiquing is focused on the content and what it means, and how it is told. Saying Twilight, or Riverdale or The 100 are bad doesn’t mean you understand it better, it just means that you think you’re better than it. And I’ve seen a lot of people spread that judgment around when really the story was going over their heads and they felt they didn’t need to look farther, or it just wasn’t the story that resonated with them. THAT is saying that OTHER people’s stories, whether they’re the teller or the audience, are not as important as OUR story. Domination.

No one should have to defend why they love a story, even if you think it’s stupid. They’ve made a connection to the material that resonates with them and fills a need. If that need is simple entertainment or comfort or to feel something or explore a life they’ll never have or to think about big issues, it’s not our business to say what need is more important and what need is stupid.

And the real purpose of story telling is to connect, anyway. To make us feel not quite so alone in this big, confusing world. If content connects with the audience, then it is good. It’s good enough.

#in defense of trash #criticism vs critique #it took me YEARS to recover from the elitism of academia #and let me tell you i was raised around pretentious artists #the superiority of high art vs low art is an ILLUSION #I defy you to tell me I don't 'get' the 100 because i choose to focus on the positive and not call it trash for its flaws #which i have heard #devil's advocate

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ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Misguided Ghost Ch.3

A.N.: Thanks for reading! I hope you all are enjoying it!

Up To The Challenge

I woke up Thursday morning feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiousness. I curled my hair and did my makeup. My make up never takes long, as I tend to keep it very natural. The most I really do is eye liner and mascara to make my brown eyes stand out a bit more. I got dressed in a knee length yellow dress that had little white flowers on it. After slipping on my sandals and my jean jacket, I went downstairs and made myself a smoothie. After packing a small lunch, I grabbed my purse and headed out to the office. As I was in the elevator, I fixed my hair and took a deep breath. This is it Mia, I told myself. Don’t screw this up!

I stepped out of the elevator to the 5th floor and opened the door. Upon hearing the bell go off, a bald head popped out of an office space. “Told you I would be seeing you soon” he grinned. I nodded with a smile and walked over to him. “What’s in the cup. Since I know it is probably not coffee?” Aaron asked.

“A peach and blueberry smoothie with kale and orange juice.” I replied while Aaron made a face.

“Are you one of those health nuts?” He asked. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, I just don’t really like eating when I get up in the morning, so smoothies are my go-to. The kale just makes it more filling in my opinion.” I said, then looked around. “Where am I supposed to go?” I said in a lower voice, unsure of what I was supposed to be doing at the moment. I figured Aaron could tell me, and at least he seemed to like me thus far.

“I’ll take you to Zak and he’ll let you know what you’re going to be doing.” He smiled down at me then turned to start walking to the office I had previously been in a few days ago. As we walked, we passed by Nick’s space. “Y/N is here!” Aaron said. I looked over at Nick and he smiled at me as well.

“Congratulations and welcome!” He said. I thanked him as he returned to his work.

“Zak. Our expert historian is here!” Aaron called out as he entered Zak’s office. Zak looked up from his laptop and I met his green eyes. They were stunning. I smiled at him, hoping I was not blushing. He smiled back, and nodded.

“Thanks Aaron,” he said, shifting his gaze to the man beside me. He stood up and motioned for me to follow him. Across the hallway there was another open space with a nice desk and chair inside. There was some video equipment in the corner and a 3-tier book shelf. I looked at Zak expectantly. “This will be your new office space. Fill free to decorate and what not. The cameras in the corner will have to stay there for now until we find another space to put them. We have a lot of equipment as you can probably imagine.” I nodded my head and put my smoothie down on the desk.

“I’m sure. This is great, thank you.” I said quietly. I was getting nervous around him but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Sure I found him attractive, but he was my new boss. I shouldn’t be nervous cause nothing would come out of it, right?

“Did you bring your own laptop to research with or should we get you set up with one?” He asked.

“I brought my own. I wasn’t sure what to expect so I thought I’d better come prepared.” Zak nodded and motioned for me to sit down at the desk. He pulled up a chair from around the corner and sat across from me. I felt a bit more comfortable now that I was the one behind the desk.

“Ok so basically, you will be researching the places we are considering for investigations. Some investigations we take on right away, others we need a bit more background done on them to make sure they’re viable sources that we should investigate. I have a running list that I will email over to you. Billy set up an email for you last night by the way. I will get you all the log in information in a bit.” Zak spoke.

“That was kind of him. What sort of history do I need to be researching? Just the basic, overall history or the hauntings?” I questioned, not entirely sure exactly what he wanted from me. Zak grinned and leaned forward slightly.

“Both. I know it may seem like a lot but I will need you to look up the overall history, as well as the history behind the hauntings. Try to find the ugly truth about the places that tour guides don’t always want to share. Think you can handle that?” he smirked. I raised an eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” I asked, a bit frustrated that he thought maybe I couldn’t do the thing he just hired me to do. He leaned back and eyed me.

“Just asking. Like I said before, you have all the qualifications. You are just different from what I thought we would hire though. You seem too bright for all the darkness we chase.” He said matter of fact.

“What are you saying? I’m like Elle Woods when she gets to law school?” He chuckled at that. “Mr. Bagans, I can assure you that I can handle researching all the history you need me to. You want to know every little dirt secret about a place, I can find it. I wrote my whole master’s thesis on the speakeasies of the 1920’s and how the mob operated. I can get you the ‘ugly truth’ as you put it.” I dropped my smile and stared back at him, challenging him silently to judge me again.

“Ok, that sounds like pretty cool research. You may not be that bad.” He stood up and walked out. I grabbed my laptop and turned it on as he came back and handed me a piece of paper with the wi-fi and my log in information on it. “And another thing,” he said “don’t call me Mr. Bagans.” He smirked and walked out of my office.

“Thanks for the information!” I called after him. I logged on and saw the email already there with a list of places to research. I took out my notepad and a pin and got to work.

~ ~ ~

I worked through lunch, trying to dig up everything I could on the list of places Zak had sent me. I was trying to get everything and anything I could. “Why is this list so damn long!” I whispered and threw my pen down on my note pad, running my hands through my hair.

“You ok there?” I looked up and saw Aaron peaking in. I looked behind him to see that Zak thankfully was not in his office.

“There’s so many places on this list! How am I supposed to get to all of them today?” I whisper yelled. Aaron came over and looked at my laptop, then at my notebook.

“You know, you’ve actually gotten more information in the past hours then we usually do in a few days? Didn’t Zak tell you this was a running list of places? We just keep adding.” He stated. I looked at him with wide eyes.

“He did… I just forgot until you said it,” I looked back at my notes. “I got nervous.”

“Ohh, does Zak make you nervous?” He teased.

“No! Shut up dude. I just don’t want to be terrible. I don’t think he thinks I can do this.”

“He does. He was the first one to say we should hire you.” He stated matter of fact. I looked at him in disbelief.

“Hey Aaron, stop flirting and get over here.” Zak said walking back into his office.

“Not flirting bro, I’m deciding to adopt her.” Now I looked up at him confused.

“You’re not that much older than me.”

“As a little sister. Yup! Do you have an older brother?” I shook my head no. “Well now you have one!” Aaron declared as he started to walk toward the door. I laughed and I saw Zak smile down at his desk.

At the end of the day I had gotten through about 4 locations. I had articles printed with main points highlighted, and notes written for each one. I gathered everything together and walked across the hall. I knocked on the door frame and smiled as Zak looked up at me. “I have some information I thought you would want to see,” I walked over to him and set the papers on his desk.

“How many did get through?” He asked, shifting through the papers.

“4. I hope that’s alright. I wasn’t sure how many a day you guys go through.” I answered nervously. Zak chuckled.

“This is good Y/N, more than we usually do in a day. Thanks,” he smiled that charming smile at me. Nope, did not just think that. I smiled, hoping I wasn’t blushing too much.

“No problem. I’m going to take off for the day.”

“Wait, I’m finishing up. I’ll walk out with you.” I nodded and walked back to my office, putting everything away and gathering my things. When I looked back up, Zak was leaning in the doorway. “Ready?” We walked out together in an awkward quiet. Apparently neither of us really knew what to say to the other.

“So,” I broke the silence while we were in the elevator. “Was Aaron serious about being my big brother?” I decided that was a neutral topic. Zak chuckled.

“Ya. He tends to do that. He’s kind of just a big kid at times. He means well though if it freaked you out.”

“Oh not at all! I don’t mind. I think it’s nice of him, makes me feel more comfortable. You know, first day jitters and all,” I replied. We stepped out of the elevator and headed out of the building.

“Ya, look Y/N. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier, or made it seem like I doubted you,” He looked down at me as we approached my car.

“It’s fine. I know I’m new and you guys seem pretty tight knit.” I smiled up at him. He smiled softly back.

“We are, but you are now apart of that. I do think that you will do well here. I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I thought you would be a flop.” He stated. I nodded,

“Well thank you. I appreciate it. Have a good evening Zak.” I waved and unlocked my car as he began to walk away.

“See you tomorrow Y/N.” He said. I got in my car and began to drive home. Maybe this will go well after all.

#Ghost Adventures #ghost adventures imagine #zak bagans #zak bagans imagine #gac #ghost adventures x reader #zak bagans x reader

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justjessame · 4 years

Text

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 1

When I bought the secondhand bookstore in South Boston, my dad thought I'd lost my mind. What was I, a native West Virginian, going to do all alone in Boston? Sell books, I'd thought. And live my life, finally, I added.

I had spent a healthy portion of my life being the perfect daughter. The one who gave and gave and made sure that I did everything in my power to make my parents proud. I gave everything to everyone, until there was little left for myself. Now, at thirty years old, I could finally have something for myself.

Besides which, have you ever seen Boston? It's gorgeous and colorful. However, when my dad helped me move into the apartment I'd leased within walking distance to my new, old store "As the Page Turns" he wasn't impressed.

"Really, Tessa?" He asked, looking around. "You're going to be homesick. This place is too noisy, it's too dirty. You're going to miss good ol' West Virginia."

Dirty and noisy? Coal mines, I thought, and the plants that made it smell or shot smoke up into the air weren't the same? Instead of arguing, I diverted him with the manual labor of the move. "You going to help me with this bed, Dad? Or should I ask a neighbor?" That got him moving.

It didn't cure his nagging. Not before he headed home, nor after he'd arrived. It made the weekly phone calls a bit of a hassle. I wanted to talk about how I was making my store a success. He wanted to bring up the things I'd left behind. I wanted to discuss the changes I made as the money started to come in earnest. He wanted to listen for a sign of homesickness. Not a call passed without at least one, "You ready to come home yet?"

Two years, I thought, walking to work in the early morning sun. I was smiling. I loved my life. I was busy. I made the store a reasonable success, adding a coffee bar and pastries to the space. And I had regulars and new customers almost daily. Success was sweet, I thought, as I unlocked the beveled glass front door and listened to the comforting jingle of the bell.

The phone rang almost as soon as I dropped my bag behind the counter. Since I wouldn't be opening for another half an hour, I had a pretty good guess of who was calling.

"Morning, Dad!" I answered, taking the cordless phone with me to start up the coffee and espresso machines. I wondered if his call would be over by the time my daily pastry delivery came. "What's up?"

"Tessa, you shouldn't answer the business phone like that." He admonished. Great start, Dad, I thought. "Why don't you have your cell phone on?"

Ugh, I thought, the chastisement with a side of criticism. Lucky me.

"My Blackberry is in my pocket. I must not have heard the call come in." I answered. "Sorry, Dad." Tessa, I thought, stop fucking apologizing, you're an adult. "How are you? Is something wrong?"

I heard him sigh. "Yes, in Boston."

"What?" I asked, wandering the store to make sure I'd put everything in order when I'd closed the evening before. The counters were clean, the leftover pastries went to the soup kitchen nearby, and the shelves were stocked and orderly.

"Don't you read or watch the news?" Irritation was so heavy on his voice that I could feel the glare across states. Why couldn't my parents have had another child so I could share this guilt and misery? "Those vigilante murderers are back in Boston. I think you should come home."

I rolled my eyes. "Dad, I do watch the news. It's just been busy. This past week's been insane." I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension build. "And why would I care about vigilantes? Didn't they kill mob people? I sell used books and coffee." Logic, I thought, would hopefully work. "Why would I be in danger?"

"Tessa, they killed a priest." He groaned. "Why wouldn't you listen to me before running away to Boston?"

Running away? I was thirty years old when I relocated, for fuck's sake. "Dad, I'm not Catholic, nor are you." I reminded him gently. "I'm certainly not a priest." I let out a sigh I hadn't noticed I was holding. "I'm fine. I'm happy." The stress moved from my shoulders to my neck belying my words. "I'll be safe. Besides, I highly doubt they've returned. And even if they had, they couldn't be stupid enough to come back to their old stomping grounds."

Another sigh and groan from his end. "You never used to be this stubborn." Yeah, because I was too busy making sure everyone else was happy. "Didn't you tell me the bar they used to frequent was close to your store?"

Damn it. Why had he remembered that tidbit in all that I'd told him about my store? Why couldn't he recall how excited I'd been at finding the rare book one of my customers had asked for? And why had I thought sharing the 'local colorful history' of my new home with my overbearing dad? In my defense, I didn't know that someone would kill a priest.

A tap came to the front door and I nearly cheered at the interruption. "Dad, I have to go, my pastries are here." Rushing through another round of I'll be safe and ending with round of "I love yous".

I let out another sigh and ran to unlock the door. The jingle of the bell calmed me a bit as Marco, the bakery's delivery guy came in with the first load of boxes. As I rolled my shoulders and tried to crack my own neck to release the tension, Marco left for the second and last load. After checking to make sure everything was accounted for, I offered him his usual tip. A double espresso.

"Ah, that hits the spot, Tess." He smiled. "You ok?"

I assured him I was fine and we chatted about this and that.

"Better hit the road. Don't want the boss to get pissed." He said, tossing the small cup in the trash. "See ya tomorrow." I waved him out.

"Could you flip my sign?" I asked, and he smiled and did it. "Later, Marc."

I moved to fill the pastry case. Using the decorative towers and plates that I'd picked up at one of the Farmer's Market stalls. The jingle of the bell made me raise up and offer my usual greeting. "Welcome to As the Page Turns, can I help you?"

He was taller than me, but then again almost everyone was. His incredibly blue eyes crinkled with a smile as he took me in behind the counter. The pastry boxes were almost all empty and the display was filled. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a loose v-neck brown t-shirt, and a pair of canvas sneakers. My auburn hair piled loosely into a bun on the top of my head and my ever present and much needed glasses perched on my nose, not thick enough to hide my green eyes.

Since he was clearly inventorying my assets as it were, I decided to do the same for him. Dark hair, looking like he'd used shears to cut it in the dark, crowned his head. His skin was sun kissed but not tan, and he wore a peacoat, black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. I could see a bit of a tattoo peeking from the collar of his coat on the left side of his neck. Another tattoo was on his right hand, along his index finger. A word, "AÈQUITAS". Huh, Latin. Justice? I felt a tingle of curiosity.

His smile turned to a smirk and I waited, raising an eyebrow under my glasses. I had my usual customer service smile on, but felt a little smirk of my own forming. Both confirming our inspection of the other, and finding it agreeable. He finally spoke.

"'Eard dis wus de place fer a master coffee on dis street." His Irish brogue is full and strong.

"Did you now?" I asked, my smile widening. "Whose singing my praises?"

"Doc." Ah, I thought. The sweet, if a bit different, owner of Mcginty's Bar, the place my dad had brought up in his call.

"What can I get you?" I asked, grinning at the thought of how many day drinkers Doc sent my way to sober up. This man, however, looked like he had recently woken up. Perhaps,he had a late night, if the slight red in the white of his eyes were telling the tale properly.

"Two av the largest black coffee yer 'av. Strong." He answered. A late night then, I smiled.

"Shot of espresso sounds in order." His eyebrows raised. "Don't look alarmed, I'll add it to the regular coffee." I turned to the machine behind me and started the two cups. "How is Doc?" I asked over the noise and my shoulder.

"'E's gran. Jammers, oi tink." Jammers, I thought, trying to make sense of the words he used. Traffic jams came to mind so I translated that Doc was busy. I had plenty of Irish immigrant customers, and I was slowly learning some of their vernacular. It was rough going, but interesting.

Capping the two large cups with black lids and sliding them into the brown sleeves that would protect my customers from burning themselves on the heat pouring from the hot coffee inside, I turned. "Well, tell him I'll try to stop over this afternoon with his favorite treat." I handed him the coffee. "Are you new in town?"

He shot me a strange look, but seeing me waiting behind the till, he gave another grin. "Aye, just visitin' for business." He chuckled at his own joke. "Ye new? Yisser accent is different."

I had heard that a great deal when I moved here. "Yep, I'm from West Virginia." My smile stayed in place. He's an odd duck, I thought, but Doc never sent me anyone dangerous or violent, so I felt safe. "Hope you enjoy your visit." I told him his total and he handed me a large bill. Opening the register to give him his change he waved me off.

"Naw, lassy, that's for yer." His smile was sweet, but the tip was twice as much as his coffees cost. I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me again. "Naw, oi ill in my brown 'ear it. Doc acts loik de sun shines from yer side av de street an' oi can tell why. Yer take care av 'imself, an' we take care av ours."

"Doc's a sweetheart. He reminds me of my late grandpa." I answered, smiling at the jist of what he said. "It's no hardship to check in on him." I put the extra cash under the drawer. If this strange man came back, his coffee was paid for. "I'm Tessa, by the way." I held out my hand.

"Murphy." He answered, simply, taking my hand. His hands were calloused and rough. Like the men I was raised around and the ones working in the factories here.

"Nice to meet you, Murphy." I said, my smile genuine.

The bells on the door jingled again. Another strong Irish voice called out before I could give my standard greeting. "So that's wha yer were- keepin' company wi' a juicy lassy instead av bringin' de coffee, yer arse."

I looked up and the usual greeting caught in my throat. Dear Lord, I thought, the dim light of the store allowing the beams of early morning sun to settle around the newcomer like a halo. Sun bleached brown hair, cut as haphazardly as Murphy's, light blue eyes, and scruff on the planes of his tanned face. Clearing my throat and my mind of how beautiful he was, I finally found my voice.

"Welcome to As the Page Turns." Jesus, why did I sound squeaky and breathless at the same time? "Guess one of these is yours?" I gestured at the two cups on my counter.

He turned his full attention to me and my mouth went dry as I watched him take the same inventory of me as Murphy had. Only this time I felt inadequate. I fought the urge to squirm.

"Damn it, Conner, stop starin' at 'er loike she's bill skinner. She looks loike a colt ready ter bolt." Murphy's voice broke the weird hold. 'Bill skinner'? I wondered. The horse bit I completely understood.

I cleared my throat again. "So, Connor, is it?" I asked, holding out the same hand that Murphy had shaken. "Visiting for business as well?"

Connor, the archangel of beauty choked on his own tongue as he took my hand and shot a look at Murphy. They were silent for a beat, my hand locked in the calloused heat of Connor's while they stared at each other. Great, pretty, but another weirdo.

"Aye, business." He answered, a smile and chuckle as he returned to face me. "An' yer are?"

I really wished I knew the joke. That had these two laughing every time I mentioned business.

"'Er name is Tessa. Whaich yer wud 'av known if ye'd gotten oyt av scratcher and cum wi' me, loike oi tried ter git yer ter." Murphy answered, smirking.

Connor released my hand and I leaned my hip against the counter. "Are you business partners?" I asked, wondering what type of business they could be in. Rough hands, sun kissed skin, peacoats, hair that looked like a blind barber and blunt shears created the cut weren't usually what I'd associate with business travel. They could be sailors, I supposed.

Connor and Murphy laughed. Each picking up a cup of coffee. Murphy with his right hand, Connor with his left. "Business partners?" Connor smiled, taking an appreciative sip. "Naw, brothers."

Murphy sipped his own. Closing his eyes and sighing in gratitude. "Twins in fact." He added, opening his eyes.

Connor took another drink from his cup. He moaned indecently and it made my stomach clench. "Dis coffee is rapid. Yer 'av a gift. An' I'm jealous yer git ter enjoy it al' de time."

It was my turn to laugh. "Oh, I don't drink coffee." The look of horrified disbelief on both their faces was priceless. "I make it. I love the scent of it, but drink it?" I shuddered. "No thanks."

Murphy's eyebrows rose. "'Oy can yer make it if yer allerge it?"

Connor chipped in, shaking his cup. "An' make it taste loike dis?"

I noticed the ink on his hand as he shook the cup. Another word tattoo. "VERITAS" I reached into my tiny bit of high school Latin. "Truth," I said out loud, startling all of us. I blushed as their eyes fell to mine. I swallowed. "The truth is- my parents love coffee. When my mom died, I learned to make a decent cup so my dad could wake up to it. Worked as a barista for a bit. Still hate the taste."

Connor's eyes burned into me, making me curious again about the two of them. "Konnor, perestan' pyalit'sya, ty yeye pugayesh'." Murphy broke the silence in a murmur. The language sounded almost guttural. Russian? Strange.

Connor's eyes never left me as he answered. "Notò la mia mano, Murphy. Pensi che chiamerà la polizia?" The language he'd chosen sounded more lyrical. Wait, 'polizia'? Police?

I cleared my throat. "Well, this has been- interesting." I smiled, hoping to defuse whatever tension was between the three of us. "Could you please let Doc know I'll be over around lunch?" I asked, needing time to process. Hoping desperately they'd take the hint.

Murphy spoke again, tugging his twin away from the counter. "Naw problem, lassy. We'll be 'appy ter let 'imself nu. Say take 'er 'andy, Connor."

"Clap yer lay-ra, lass." Connor said, allowing his brother to steer him out the door, Murphy shooting me a wave.

Well, then, I thought. Going back to the pastry display, I started clearing the empty boxes. What the hell was all that?

Russian translation from Murphy: Connor, stop staring. You scare her.

Italian translation from Connor: She noticed my hand, Murphy. Do you think she'll call the police?

#Connor MacManus X OFC X Murphy MacManus #no twincest #Boondock Saints 2 #alternative universe #eventual smut

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enchantingkittengaditor · 4 years

Text

Born Into This | 01: Right Now

POV Hayley

“Ms. Atwell, can you please tell us all that you can remember leading up to the events?”

“Ok, it all truly started when TJ found something I can’t begin to explain in the lab after I got her an internship at the police station. Like me, she didn’t want to be apart of the mob world.”

“Hi, I came in to collect my case files, Edna,” I asked the elderly lady behind the front desk showing her my ID.

“Of course Miss. Atwell,” the lady behind the desk smiled at me as she went to go grab my files. While she was in the back I grabbed my phone, checking to see if anything bad had happened or if anyone figured out my past yet.

“Get in the cell, Stan!” one of the officers yelled at a man he was trying to get into a cell.

“Make me.”

“Oh my god,” I mumbled under my breath as I looked up to be met by the eyes of Sebastian Stan, one of the many underbosses of the Downey Mafia. This is great, just the person I didn’t want to see because where theirs a Stan there is always a Chris. And whichever Chris it was I didn’t want to see them here.

“Here you go, dear. It’s a shame isn’t it, all these men getting caught up in crime families it makes you think what their parents think of them doesn’t it. Anyway good luck with some of those cases, you’ll need it,” she said again as I quickly scurried off, still feeling the glare on my back from Sebastian in his cell.

“Watch your back bitch!” He screamed at me before the door slammed shut behind me.

God, I hope no one else noticed that he was talking to me. Let’s try and ignore it and see if Lizzy knows anything but till then I have to pick up TJ.

Me: WHERE ARE YOU? I FORGOT WHERE YOUR INTERNSHIP IS.

TJ: 5TH FLOOR, LAB. HAVE SOMETHING THAT MAY INTEREST YOU. ABOUT SEB & A CASE

Me: SEE YOU IN 5. TELL ME THEN. PHONE NOT SAFE. LIZ WORRIED.

I stepped out of the elevator on to the 5th-floor landing. The 5th floor was split between a state of the art lab and the Lawyer’s office, which makes TJ having her internship so much easier, even if I did forget where it was.

“Hi Anna, I’m here for my niece, the lab intern,” I said to the lady at the front desk inside the lab.

“Hey Aunt Hayley, can you come see this. If that’s alright Anna?” She queried her boss for the past few days.

“That’s fine but be quick your meant to be gone in five minutes,” Anna said from behind her desk.

“Thank you so much, Anna,” TJ responded to her as she led me to her small work station. “Have a look, tell me what you see.” She pointed at the microscope.

“Did you arrange cells to say ‘I love you’?” I asked her.

“Yes. Now Seb?”

“I’ll tell you more later. Then pizza and home to Lizzie,” I said putting my arm around her shoulder as we walked out of the lab.

“Should we bring Lizzie some pizza, she did have a big meeting with the idiot of Chris.”

“Maybe we go with veggie pizza. You know how those meetings can go.”

“That might be a good idea. How was your day? How was Seb?”

“I didn’t see him until I left and got his file. It was good. You?”

“It was so much fun. The science here is incredible, though I still want to be a lawyer like you and get away from the family business. I want to be on the right side of all this,” she said motioning to the police station.

“Good for you. Now pizza.”

“PIZZA!”

“You a weird child, now you still got your subway ticket?”

“Yes let’s go.”

“What happened then?”

“We got pizza and went home, it’s not rocket science,” I sassed at the judge.

“We’re home!” TJ shouted to Lizzie in the kitchen. “And you have red wine, what happened?”

“Chris happened,” she responded.

“Right we have pizza and you have wine, TJ you can either have wine or a coca-cola that’s in the fridge,” I said putting the pizza box on the table.

“I’m going with the coke.”

“For the next two hours, we sat at the table laughing and talking about our day. We also talked to TJ about her new school and everything we’d heard about it.”

“Was there anything else that went on that night?”

“Not that I can recall, though I would like to point out we did drink a few bottles of wine. So I’m sorry that I can’t remember what else happened.”

POV Sebastian

“Mr. Stan, what do you remember from the night of August 28th, 2022?”

“I’d been arrested at about 6 pm that day and I was sitting in the drunk tank glaring at officers while trying to sober up.”

“Is that all?”

“All that I can remember,” I stated back at them.

“Why were you arrested, by the way, Mr. Stan?”

“I was arrested for public intoxication among other things.”

“Congratulations, Stan you have made bail,” one of the officers said unlocking the cell door.

“You really need to get your act together Sebastian,” a voice said to me as I grabbed my things.

“Shut the fuck up Chris, I don’t have time for this. I have to…”

“You don’t have to do anything except explain all of this to Robert.”

“He knows?” I asked already regretting last night.

“Of course he knows. He knows everything that happens in this city, like the fact Hayley Atwell is your court-appointed attorney.”

“Well, that’s going to be fun.”

“You need something to eat. It’ll help sober you up.”

“What I need is to get out of the country.”

“That isn’t the answer.”

“What were the other things?”

“I was in a mob, it’s all in the file that you were given.”

POV TJ

“Ms. Barnes, what do you remember from the night of the 28th of August 2022?”

“I remember going to bed at around 10 pm and reading for a solid hour before turning off and going to bed after texting Millie and Sofia.”

“Why did you text these two people?”

“Because without me reminding them to go to bed they’d stay up 24/7. I’m just a teenage girl who cares about her friends. Contrary to popular belief I’m not a monster, I’m just a normal human being with a crazy family.”

“Normal?”

“Well as normal as one can expect having been brought up by mobsters.”

“Alright, what about the 1st of September?”

“That was the first day of school.”

“And?”

“And as I imagine you remember it was full of misogynistic comments, a rating list and bitchy teenagers and me nearly punching a sexist teacher who thought I couldn’t cope being in AP classes. Other than that and the usual bonding games it was a normal day.”

“I want you to describe it in detail,” The judge said.

“Can you pull in just here, I don’t want anyone to know about the fact I’m getting driven around in a limo,” I told Alfred the driver as Lizzie and Hayley talked business across from me.

“Of course ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am call me TJ please I will never get used to anyone calling me ma’am,” I told him as I kissed my aunts’ goodbye on the cheeks and got out of the car.

“Have you got your lunch?” Hayley asked.

“Yes, don’t worry I have everything.”

“She even has two best friends,” Millie said from behind me.

“Have a good day you three,” Lizzie said, “I have an appointment at the warehouse but I’ll come to pick you all up and we can get ice cream and walk around central park.”

“Yup,” Sofia squeaked as we headed to the school gates.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I told her before she could ask.

“Yup. So what class do you guys have first?” Millie asked as we tried to find our lockers in the expansive hallways.

“AP English, with a Mr. Holland,” I said looking at my timetable on my phone trying to find the combination to my locker to drop most of my books off.

“Well, congrats we’ve all got the same class,” Millie said finding her combination.

“Wasn’t Holland one of the names on the list of people to avoid that we were all sent by Mr. T?” Sofia asked.

“Let’s see there’s a Tom, Sam, Harry, Dominic and that’s it. Well, all he could find under that name,” I said pinning some photos from London up inside my locker as well as the list of names I’d printed out this morning.

“You printed it out?” Sofia asked.

“Yup because it’s more useful like this than on my phone.”

“But more people can see it,” Millie responded.

“Only if they look in my locker, though,” I said as we walked toward what we hoped was the classroom we were meant to go to.

“This is 120 right?” Millie asked looking at the sign outside the door.

“I believe that does say 120 Millie. Are you sure you should be in AP calc?”

“Shut up,” She said playfully slapping my shoulder.

“Sorry,” two boys said after knocking into me and Millie trying to get into the classroom.

“I guess we should go in,” Sofia stated.

“Here we go,” Millie said.

“Together,” we said in unison walking through the door hand in hand.

“That was dramatic, wasn’t it?” Sofia said when we took a seat together at the front of the classroom.

“Not there,” a man said to us, “There’s a seating chart on the board.”

“Well, I’m in the right spot but you two have to move,” I said to my friends.

“Just remember, see something say something,” Millie said raising her eyebrows at us to emphasize the hidden meaning of the saying we’d been taught since we’d been kids.

“What does that mean?” One of the kids that had bumped into us said looking at where Millie was sitting.

“It means what you’d think it means, it’s just a stupid joke that we’ve told each other since we were kids. Love ya TJ,” Sofia said picking up her books and moving to her desk.

“Bye,” I said to them as they moved across the room pouting at me as I turned back to the boy, “Hi, I’m TJ. And you are?” I said looking him up and down as he sat down.

“Patrick,” he said shaking my hand. “I’m guessing your not from around here.”

“That obvious huh?” I said taking my pencil case out of my bag ready for class.

“The accent gave it away.”

“Thought so. You’ve also got a south-east London accent. How?” I asked with the determination I’d seen Lizzie use in meetings.

“My parents are from London, but I grew up here most of my life,” he told me turning back to the board.

“Hello everyone. Welcome to AP English, I’m Mr. Holland and I’ll be your teacher. To get us started after all the introductions and ‘bonding’ games that I’m sure you’ll do today, I’m going to set you a group project with your desk partner on a historically important book so pick a name out of the hat.”

When I picked a name out of the hat I was elated. “What book did you get?” the teacher asked.

“Little Women, Louisa May Alcott,” I said not even looking back at the little piece of paper.

“Good luck,” he said moving on.

At the end of the class, the three of us met up outside the classroom.

“So if I have ‘A Room Of One’s Own’ and you have ‘Little Women’ how on earth did Millie get ‘The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn’? There is such a difference in those books,” Sofia said to us as we walked to our next class.

“I honestly don’t know. But I’m not mentally ready for that level of sexism and racism,” Millie responded.

“Is that all that happened that day at school?”

“No that’s all that mattered that day at school, it was a normal first day.”

“Alright.”

POV Chris

“Mr. Evans can you explain what happened at your meeting with Ms. Elizabeth Olsen.”

“Of course.”

“Elizabeth,” I said walking into the conference room at the hotel we’d agreed upon for this meeting.

“Christopher,” She said not even looking up from her paperwork.

“So, Robert tells me that you need to leave,” I said sitting down.

“Of course he thinks I need to leave but we’re not going to. We just need you to get him to sign these.” She handed me a folder that I flicked through.

“Why?” I asked her.

“It simply states that we’ll be in a similar relationship to that of any other mob in the city. The others have already signed theirs. It also states that you will be the liaison between us so that we don’t damage each other too much. All we want is to work together and help each other out,” she said smiling and waving her pen around.

“Well I’m sorry to say but we don’t do legal binding. And this is not how Robert roles.” I put down the file and slid it back to her.

“Well, Robert said you did. And agreed to this already so all you have to do is take this to him and get him to sign it. It’s a simple task I imagine you can handle it even with your IQ,” she told me.

“I can except he gave me this for you,” I said pulling out a note from my jacket pocket.

“Well thank you,” she said taking the note.

“I imagine things work differently in England than here,” I stated staring at her as she read the note.

“They do, we like to be more sophisticated in the ways we go into business with each other,” she said still reading the note.

“Get out,” she said quietly after she finished reading the note, “Get out or I will call security on you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans that’s all we need to know for now.”

POV Paddy

“Mr. Holland, can you tell us what happened on the first of September?”

“So your dad teamed you up with someone that he thinks is apart of a rival mob that moved here from England. And somehow he thought it would be a good idea for you two to work together. And now not so much?” Finn asked me as we sat down in the cafeteria.

“Yes, but he can’t change the partners without looking suspicious to at least her if she is, in fact, part of a mob.”

“So he’s worried about a teenage girl taking down Robert. Because that makes sense.”

“You haven’t seen what they did in London,” I told him starting to eat my lunch.

“Neither did you,” He told me.

“No, but my brothers and parents did and I’ve heard the stories. If she is a part of that mob she’s going down so is her family. They destroyed mine and so I’m going to help destroy theirs.”

“So you vowed to destroy the Barnes Mafia?”

“Yes but that was an empty threat. It meant nothing more than the ‘bro code’ everyone seems to think we uphold. It was meant as a way to show my dad that I was loyal to him but not mean anything to substantial because helping could just mean getting them cookies.”

“But I take it that’s not how your father saw it?”

“It never is.”

“Your dad said you wanted to help us take down the Barnes family?” the Chrises approached me when I got home from school.

“Maybe I did but I still have school and homework for the time being so if you’ll excuse me,” I told them grabbing an apple from the kitchen and disappearing to my room.

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supersaiyadaddy · 4 years

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Dystopia Reading Recommendations by my friend Victoria H:

All Good Children by Catherine Austin

The American government has developed a treatment to cure teenage delinquency which is bad news for 17 year old Maxwell, graffiti artist and angry, young man. This novel is a chilling look into the future of social control using pharmaceuticals.

Angel Fall by Susan Ee

One of the few books on this list I haven’t read, but book sellers and readers alike love this series. I’m looking forward to reading how 17 year old Penryn Young survives when warrior angels attack San Francisco, beginning the apocalypse.

Children of Eden by Joey Grace

Rowan is her parent’s second child, which in a world of strict population control, makes her not just illegal but marked for death. Another novel recommended by my bookseller best friend which has received rave reviews.

Gone series by Michael Grant

I’m honestly not a huge fan of this series, but mine is definitely a minority opinion. One day, all the adults are simply gone with no explanation, leaving teens suddenly in charge of a world of children. A scary scenario which becomes more perilous as animals and the remaining humans begin to change, developing dangerous supernatural abilities.

Sixteen by Julia Karr

One of the lesser known books on this list, but one of my favourites as unlike so many other dystopias the setting isn’t also the plot. Nina is nervous about her fast approaching sixteenth birthday when she’ll receive a government mandated tattoo indicating she is now sexually available. After her mother is attacked, Nina discovers that everything she’s been told her about post-sixteen life is a horrible lie.

Legend series by Marie Lu

In the dystopian Republic, June is a fifteen year old military prodigy determined to capture her country’s most wanted criminal, fifteen year old Day, a survivor of the slums. Both think they know everything about their world, but both the hunter and the hunted will be profoundly changed when they learn the truth. The whole series is a must read.

The Hive by Barry Lyga and Morgan Baden

To rein in online bullying, the government now controls who is targeted for mob justice, and what level of punishment is deserved. Teenaged Cassie has had every reason to believe in the fairness of this system, until one online joke makes her a target of a violent punishment far in excess of her crime. Fully believable and scary; I couldn’t put the book down until I reached the end.

Bumped by Megan McCafferty

A fascinating novel of what happens when fertility is limited to the teenage years, and the competition is fierce for the privilege of impregnating the smartest, healthiest and best looking girls. Melody, who scores high on all three categories, believes she’s the luckiest girl in the world until she discovers she has an identical twin sister, Harmony, who is determined to save her from a sinful future.

The Knife of Never Letting Go series by Patrick Ness

On an alien world, a small community of human men have the ability to hear each other’s thoughts. But when soon to be 13 year old Todd discovers that the Noise of everyone’s thoughts isn’t as omnipresent as he’s been told, he’s forced to flee for his life. For there are many dark, violent secrets on this world where keeping secrets should be impossible.

Burn Mark by Laura Powell (sequel Witch Fire)

In an England where the Inquisition never ended and witches are still burned, developing the ability to do magic during your adolescence is a curse almost no one wants. Glory is determined to embrace her gifts despite them trapping her in a life of crime. By contrast, Lucas, son of a Chief Inquisitor, feels cursed by his developing powers which are threatening everything he ever wanted. These novels contain one of the more realistic depictions of the practice of magic, and of the oppressive history of British social classes.

Divergent Series by Veronica Roth

A very well known series, but unfortunately much maligned due to the declining quality of the movie sequels. However, the books themselves, especially the first two, are a compelling portrayal of a society at war with itself. I couldn’t help but root for Tris and Four, two young people determined not to allow violent prejudice limit how they live their lives.

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

In this near future, computers predict with unfailing accuracy who will die in the next twenty-four hours. Two very different teenage boys receive the much dreaded notification, and as the hours pass for them, you will question with increasing anxiety how accurate the title of this novel is.

Scythe Trilogy by Neal Shusterman

On an Earth where humans have conquered death, Scythes are responsible for compassionately ‘gleaning’ a quota of people to keep the burgeoning population under control. Two teenagers, Citra and Rowan, are unwillingly recruited as apprentices. Soon, their own lives will be on the line as there’s a growing movement within the Scythedom to destroy the rules that limit their ability to kill.

Unwind Series by Neal Shusterman

And if you thought the world of Scythe was twisted, this dystopian series by the same author is set after an American civil war where the opposing sides reached a terrifying compromise. Abortion is now illegal, but between the ages of 13 and 18, unruly teenagers can be sent by their parents to be ‘unwound.’ A process that claims it allows the teen to live on in their donated organs inside more worthwhile citizens. Despite this bizarre premise, the author manages to create a very convincing and terrifying future.

The Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan Stroud (first book of the Bartimaeus series)

In this alternative universe, the British Empire dominates the world because British magicians are able to summon and control powerful demons. When Nathaniel, a young apprentice magician, decides to summon a djinn to get revenge on his teacher, he’s immediately in way over his head. For Bartimaeus is a conniving and hilarious demon, who is often too smart for his own good. If we lived in a just universe, people would have lined up for these books like they did for the Harry Potter series.

Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld

A well known dystopian series that deserves all the praise it has received. Tally has been told all her life that she’s ugly, that everyone is until they turn sixteen and extensive cosmetic surgery transforms them into a Pretty. Tally has eagerly awaited this transformation all her life, until she makes a friend who doesn’t want the surgery as it does far more than just alter outside appearances. This whole series is well worth reading.

The Chrysalids by John Wyndham

A classic from the 1950s that’s still easily available for good reason. This novel is set in a post-nuclear war Labrador where any mutation from ‘the norm,’ no matter how small, is feared and hated. Suspect crops are burned, mutant animals are slaughtered, and any human who appears abnormal is sterilized and exiled to the dangerous, radioactive Fringes. David Storm believes he’s lucky because his differences and those of his friends are invisible. But the arrival of his sister Petra, whose telepathic abilities outstrip all of theirs, threatens to expose them all.

An Introduction to Zombies:

Zombies Versus Unicorns edited by Holly Black and Justine Larbalestier

An amazing anthology of short stories about zombies or unicorns by some of the best YA authors. Funny, disturbing and moving stories of the zombie apocalypse alongside unicorn stories like none you’ve ever read before.

The Girl with All the Gifts by Mike Carey

Told from the perspective of ten year old Melanie, the titular girl, this tense thriller takes place in a world where a fungal infection has transformed much of humanity into cannibalistic hungries. This novel tackles all the hard questions of what makes someone human, but never falters from being an entertaining and scary page turner. Also, the movie adaption is as excellent as the book.

Rot and Ruin Series by Jonathan Maberry

Fourteen years after zombies first appeared, the United States has reverted to the Old West, with small towns surrounded by the rot and ruin of civilization. Benny Imura, 15, doesn’t remember what life was like before, but wants to believe there’s more to existence than living behind tall fences and locked doors. But zombies aren’t the only dangers beyond the town’s borders. This entire series is an Intelligent, compelling and believable version of a zombie apocalypse.

This is Not a Test by Courtney Summers

Barricaded in a high school in a small Canadian town, Sloane Price and five other teens try to survive a zombie outbreak, their troubled pasts, and each other. A tense, smart thriller I couldn’t put down. Warning: themes of suicide and child abuse. There’s a sequel novella, Please Remain Calm, that I haven’t read yet, but it’s available on kindle.

Peeps by Scott Westerfield

This is smart, scary book where zombies aren’t caused by a disease, but a parasite which turns people into cannibals who hate everything they used to love. Warning: the teen protagonist, Cal, has become an expert on all kinds of parasites and describes them in graphic detail. But if you have a strong enough stomach, this is one of the most unique visions of zombies from an excellent writer. There’s a sequel that’s hard to get called The Last Days that’s shamefully still on my pile of to be read.

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years

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Natural Born Killers Chapter 6 (Sam x Dean)

Title: Natural Born Killers Chapter 6

Summary: It started as an accident. That’s what it was. But things escalated from there and now the law wants Dean Winchester, one way or another.

Warnings: Language, underage kissing

Present

Victor set there in silence for a second, not believing what Sam had just told him. There was no way that it had happened that way.

“So, you’re telling me that your dad just died of a heart attack and that was it?” Victor asked. Sam nodded.

“Years of strictly fast food will do that.” Sam said. “Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

“A death certificate was never filed for him.” Victor said.

“We gave him what you would call a viking funeral…”

*****

1999

Sam’s phone was ringing. It was their first morning together and that damn phone would not stop ringing. Dean wanted to chuck it in the trash, but Sam untangled himself from Dean’s arms and got up.

“If I don’t answer, they’ll just keep calling.” Sam said. “It’s Bobby.” Dean looked up at him. He wondered if John had mentioned anything to the other hunters about what he had seen. But Dean was sure if he had, there would’ve been a mob after him. And, for the most part, they were all pretty friendly.

“Hello?” Sam answered.

“Sam? Are you okay? I’ve been trying all morning.” Bobby said. Sam nodded.

“Yeah sorry. We met up with Dean and him and I spent the whole night talking.” Sam explained. Dean waited, watching Sam as he paced. He had grabbed a shirt from his bag, which was one of Dean’s old rock shirts that he had taken, and was walking around wearing just it and nothing else. Dean licked his lips watching him.

“Dean’s with you?” Bobby asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam said.

“Good. That means your safe. Where’s your dad?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know. He went out on a hunt a few days ago.” Sam said.

“Balls.” Bobby groaned. “He sent a cryptic message off last night and I’ve tried calling his phone but can’t track him down. Do you know where he was going?”

“He keeps me pretty in the dark unless he wants something.” Sam said. He turned to look at Dean and didn’t miss the way he grit his teeth at the way John had treated Sam. “Did you try running his location?”

“Bastard didn’t give me the name he was using on his phone.” Bobby said. “What state are you boys in?”

“Arkansas.” Sam told him.

“I’m on the Missouri, Arkansas line.” Bobby said. “There was a Wendigo out here and I took it out. There’s reported werewolf activity in someplace called Center Grove, Arkansas. You boys close to there?”

“Few towns over.” Sam said. “Think dad went after the werewolf?”

“Wouldn’t hurt for me to look. You two stay put. I’ll call you when I figure something out.” Bobby explained.

“Thanks Bobby.” Sam said. They both hung up and Sam went over to Dean, snuggling up next to him. He could feel Dean’s unease and looked up at him. “Bobby’s looking for Dad.” Sam explained.

“I figured.” Dean said. “What has John told anyone about me?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. “He’s been telling everyone you’ve been taking your own hunts.” Dean nodded. “De, what didn’t dad want me to be near you?”

“Sammy…” Dean started, but Sam gave him those eyes. “John, he walked in on me killing someone.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“Two shitheads who beat you up.” Dean said. “And I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret was that he saw and took you away from me.” He played with Sam’s hair. “I would kill anyone who hurt you.” He was met then with lips on his. He wrapped his arms around Sam and held him close.

“I’m yours.” Sam whispered, resting his forehead against Dean’s. “No one else's.” He felt Dean’s hold tighten on him.

“I will kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” Dean assured him. “I will take care of you baby boy. You never have to worry ever again.”

****

Sam was asleep later that afternoon when Bobby called. Dean took the phone call. He was watching TV and writing out a shopping list of things that they needed. Sam’s phone was ringing and Dean picked it up upon seeing the caller ID.

“Hey Bobby.” Dean said.

“Dean.” Bobby said. “I’ve got some news for you boys. I’d prefer to tell you in person though. Where are you guys at?” Dean closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was a trustworthy arrangement or not. But it was Bobby, and Bobby had never done anything to them.

“Forest Hill motel.” Dean told Bobby.

“I’ll be there soon.” With that, he hung up. Dean went over to Sam and placed gentle kisses on exposed skin, slowly waking him up.

“De?” Sam asked with a yawn. “What’s going on?”

“Bobby’s on his way over. He said he has news for us.” Dean said, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam moved into Dean’s touch. “Come on baby boy, gotta get up. My guess is he’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Don’t wanna.” Sam yawned.

“I know, I know.” Dean kissed on his neck. “After he leaves, we’ll go out for a night on the town. Sound like fun?”

“Yeah.” Sam said, getting up. He had showered earlier, but had opted to put that t-shirt of Dean’s back on. Not that Dean minded. Dean had made sure to hide those clothes of his in a bag. He would burn them later.

And, sure enough, twenty minutes later found Bobby’s Roadrunner pulling into the parking lot and the older hunter knocking on the door. Dean answered and Sam looked up from the book he was reading.

“Hey Bobby.” Dean said, smiling as he let him in.

“Dean. Sam.” Bobby said, nodding at them. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat. Bobby took a deep breath.

“Your dad...he’s dead.” Bobby said. Dean looked over at Sam and saw the tears spring up in his eyes. Damn, that kid was a good actor.

“W-what?” Sam asked. “How? Where?”

“‘Bout three towns over. Looks like he was after the werewolf and it or something else got to him.” Bobby shook his head. “It was bad.”

“Oh god.” Sam said, full tears falling down his face. He reached for Dean, who immediately hugged him. “What are we going to do now?”

“Well, you boys can come live with me if you want. But since Dean’s an adult, I figured that you two would want to go out on your own.” Bobby said. “But, like I said, my house is always open to you both.”

“I’ve been saving up. I’ll find us a place.” Dean said. “Sam can go to school and I can get a job. We need a little normal in our lives.” Bobby nodded in agreement. “I guess we’re going to give him a hunter's funeral.”

“Want me to tell anyone?” Bobby asked.

“If they ask, tell ‘em.” Dean said. Bobby nodded.

“I’ll help you boys make the pyre then I have to get back up home.” Bobby told them. “Why don’t I call you boys when I get everything set up. You really don’t want to see him like this.” Dean still holding a crying Sam against him.

“Thanks Bobby. We owe you.” Dean said, looking up at him. Bobby offered a small smile and patted Dean on the shoulder.

“You boys don’t owe me anything.” He said. “I’ll call you soon.” He headed out the door. Sam waited until he heard the Roadrunner start up before he sat up and wiped his eyes. Dean looked at him.

“Damn Sammy, when did you become such a good actor?” Dean asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed that you were upset the old man was dead.”

“I’m so glad he’s gone.” Sam said. “I’m so tired of the way he treated me.”

“You never have to worry about him again baby boy.” Dean said, kissing the top of his head.

****

A couple hours later found the Winchester’s heading out to a clearing where Bobby had prepared John’s body. Dean and Sam both made sure to turn on the waterworks at the right time. Bobby never suspected a thing.

“You two are welcome to come up and settle at my place until you figure out what you’re going to do.” Bobby told them as they watched the pyre burn.

“We might take you up on that offer Bobby.” Dean said. “At least until we can figure out where we want to settle.”

“Just tell me when ya idjits are heading that way.” Bobby said, giving Dean a hug before hugging Sam. “I’ll see you boys soon.” With that, Bobby got in his car and left. Dean and Sam stood there, watching as John burned.

“Here.” Sam said, handing Dean the bag of bloody clothes. Dean nodded and tossed them into the fire.

“Good riddance old man.” Dean growled. He held Sam’s hand as they stood there together.

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