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alexawynters · 5 months

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Scarlet Whispers pt. 3

Gif not mine

Master list here

Author's Note: Nightmare portion written by @Never_Trick_OnlyTreats on AO3 - I outsourced the nightmare because it was a struggle my first time trying my hand at it, so thank you so much for your help with that scene!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

A few days pass as you and Wanda settle into a rhythm, which you are currently referring to as a roommate situation. You hesitate to label it anything else since other labels seem... unbefitting. Everything feels so complicated, and you find yourself with more questions than answers. Whenever you try to ask Wanda about her plans for you, she distracts and flusters you, causing you to forget what you were trying to ask in the first place.

After casually exploring the grounds, you notice that Mount Wundagore no longer looks the same. Instead of the gloomy stone temple in the mountains, Wanda has transformed it into an idyllic countryside cottage. The weather outside is always perfect, with a gentle crisp breeze and the sun shining just behind the clouds. It feels like a perfect autumn day. The small cottage is surprisingly spacious inside for something so small, with multiple rooms including an office, living room, gaming room, quaint kitchen, and a library that you’re pretty sure resembles the one from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. There is only one bedroom which you and Wanda share, though Wanda frequently reassures you there is no pressure from her to do anything.

You are amazed by the witch's incredible powers and the careful consideration she put into creating your new "home". It seems as though she knew exactly what you wanted and turned it into a reality. The thought and effort she put into making it comfortable for you warms your heart. As always, after some time passes, you can't help but wonder when reality will catch up. You still have exams to complete, job applications to submit, and a life to live. When will you be able to return to that? Surely you couldn’t stay here forever, life simply didn’t work like that.

Wanda made an effort not to leave you alone for too long, especially if she knew you wouldn't be engrossed in an activity that would occupy your time, like playing a video game. When asked where she was going, she would dismissively say she was ensuring your safety, being intentionally vague on the details of what that entailed. You never fully believed her, partly because of the intense look in her eyes. However, she could easily distract you from her plans, and if you insisted, a brief glow from her eyes would suddenly have your mind immersed in another activity, causing you to completely forget what you were originally talking about.

The witch didn’t like to use her powers on you excessively; it felt like cheating. Nevertheless, she couldn't afford to have you scrutinizing her actions and movements too closely, especially when she would return, often covered in blood, from removing any possible threats that might have been trying to take you away from her. She couldn't risk you questioning her and discovering the truth, not until she had complete control over you. Wanda needed you to desire and depend on her, and for that, she needed your trust and happiness.

Most days, you would wake up with Wanda's arms wrapped tightly around you. Early on, you discovered that she preferred being the big spoon, and you had no complaints about it. Once she held you, she wouldn't let go anytime soon. While initially awkward for you because you weren't used to physical touch from others, especially from someone you found so beautiful, she made it easy for you by never demanding more than you were comfortable giving. When Wanda woke up, her raspy voice, and thick accent, would greet you with a good morning, usually asking if you wanted breakfast.

That was another adjustment you had to make - having regular meals. You had become so accustomed to skipping meals and practicing intermittent fasting that you originally felt a bit queasy when you learned that Wanda wanted you to eat three full meals a day. At first, you declined her offer, but Wanda insisted, after she somehow managed to make you admit that you had been practically starving yourself in an attempt to lose weight. Because of this, she was insistent that you would now have three meals a day, and that you would eat all of them in her presence. Although you felt a bit annoyed by said insistence, you secretly appreciated her concern. You remembered how your mother would praise you every time you went down a pant size, unaware of the fact that you were going days without eating to achieve it.

After breakfast, Wanda would ask if you wanted to watch a movie or go to the library to read a book. If you chose to watch a movie, she almost always let you pick. Once in a while she would decide what to watch, you found it endearing to learn that she enjoyed classic sitcoms such as Dick Van Dyke, and Bewitched. If you opted for the library, you both had your own books to read, snuggling together in the nook by the window, enjoying the warm glow of the sun.

For lunch, Wanda would usually prepare it herself, using fresh herbs and ingredients from her garden. At times she would ask you to accompany and help her, you always agreed. Unable to help but follow her around like a puppy. If Wanda wanted you around, you were happy to be included.

After lunch, you would either watch more movies or play video games for a few hours. Some games were multiplayer, where you would take turns beating each other at Mario Kart. Others were single player, where Wanda would ask you questions about the characters and the plot, or why you made certain choices in the RPG. Unlike when other people in your life had asked, you loved answering any questions she posed for you.

This went on for a few weeks, but eventually, you needed to know what the future held for you. One night, while Wanda held you as you were drifting off to sleep, you decided to ask, knowing in this moment there was nothing she could use to distract you.

"Wands?" you asked, quietly. If she was actually asleep, you didn't want to disturb her. Part of you almost hoped she wouldn't answer, dreading breaking the spell of the last few weeks.

The redhead hummed her acknowledgement.

"I-" You curse yourself for faltering so quickly. You knew you should have rehearsed this in your head at least a few more times.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful. The last few weeks have been... nothing short of... the most amazing of my life. But what are we doing here? I've missed finals. I have to go back and reschedule my proctored exams to see if I can still take them or if I have to wait for another semester. I need those to get my degree so I can get a job and start my life. As much as I appreciate spending this time here with you, when do I get to go home?" Your voice is quiet, afraid you have upset the witch who has shown you nothing but kindness. Probably the most kindness you have ever experienced in your entire life.

Although you can’t see it, Wanda’s eyes emanate a deep red as she delves into your mind in search for the source of your thoughts. Once she is satisfied that she has identified the core issue - your desire for independence and refusal to burden others - she begins to reassure you.

“Darling, why would you ever want to go back home to those.. people? After the way they treated you? Besides, you don’t need your degree, a job, or any of that. Everything you need, I can provide for you. It’s no trouble at all, detka, I promise you. You have no idea how… happy… I am that you are here, and I would do anything to keep you that way.” Her grip on you tightens slightly.

You can't fully grasp the extent of the truth of her words, or the extreme measures she has taken to bring you to this point. From your perspective, your parents, the very individuals who were meant to love and care for you have harbored resentment towards your very existence your entire life. The thought that this woman, a mere roommate, who has already done so much for you, could one day develop the same resentment for you as your own parents is agonizing. You don’t want to overstep your welcome in her life.

You have some idea of the lengths she has gone to. You know she has crossed universes to find you, although you still cannot understand why. You are not her deceased lover, and you never will be. Despite sharing the same genetic makeup, you are unsure if you could ever measure up to someone so courageous. It all still feels too good to be true, as if she’s gone to too much effort for someone like you. You worry that she will be disappointed when she discovers the truth - that you are not good enough. Accepting her kindness feels like an act of deception on your part, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

You fidget uncomfortably. It hasn’t occurred to you that you have been silent for some time until you feel slender fingers running themselves soothingly through your hair. “Oh detka,” she whispers softly, her voice compassionate. “They really broke you, didn’t they?”

Your boy stiffens as you feel the unmistakable sensation of lips pressing themselves gently to the crown of your head, resting there for a moment. Surprisingly, the urge to flee doesn’t come as you had expected, and you allow yourself to relax into the witch’s embrace.

Wanda takes a moment to contemplate her phrasing. "You could never be a disappointment to me, darling. Even if you don't have powers like your other self, or if you never return my feelings, I don't ask for any of that from you, Y/N. All I ask is that you stay here with me, and I will take care of everything. Let me help you, rebuild you. Let me love you, and you won't regret it, I promise, darling."

You consider her offer. It sounds appealing. Nonetheless, you can't help but feel cautious. After all, nothing comes for free. You also feel uneasy about how effortlessly she can read you, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless. While you don't want to offend her, you have reservations about the idea.

"Wanda, I... I appreciate your offer. That's incredibly kind of you, but we can't stay here just the two of us forever. That's not healthy, and it's not how the real world works. I don't want to trade one prison for another, as beautiful as it may be," you add, trying not to offend the witch.

"I like you, and I would love to get to know you, but I also want to go out and live my life. Ideally, I want to have a job, a home, and friends of my own outside of these walls. We can still visit each other. Do you understand?" you ask, turning in Wanda's embrace and hoping she can see the sincerity in your eyes. You've never truly experienced freedom before, and now that it's within reach, you're unwilling to let it slip away so easily.

A range of emotions flicker across the witch's face before a stoney mask settles over it. "The world isn't safe out there, Y/N. Why do you need a degree, a house, friends when you have me?" Her voice grows louder in her exasperation, causing you to shrink in fear. "I can create anything you need. Isn't this house enough for you? What don't you like about it, hmm? With a wave of my hand, I can transform it into anything you desire."

Her voice turns frustrated. "Why do you even want to work? It's not enjoyable. Wouldn't you prefer to spend your time here, with me? You can do whatever you like, and I can provide for us. You don't have to worry about anything. You don't need anyone or anything except me!"

By now, her voice has practically risen to a shout, and you are recoiling in fear. After all this time with the former avenger, you had forgotten how powerful she was. She had only done her best to provide for you and care for you, asking nothing in return but your presence. Suddenly, you understood why she felt like you might be ungrateful, and you only had yourself to blame. Shame and fear roil in your gut. Still, it had been a while since you had felt fear like this, not since she had taken you from your parents. The only thing keeping you in her arms is her unnaturally strong grip on you.

"W-Wanda," you whimper. "Please stop, I'm sorry."

Realizing she has scared you, Wanda takes a slow, calming breath, in an effort to de-escalate herself. She knows that she won't earn your affection if she continues like this, but the redhead is furious at your lack of gratitude. Wanda has put in so much effort to create your ideal life, and yet here you are, wanting to return to the misery of the "real world."

The witch mentally scoffs. She has grown tired of this argument that she has already had with you multiple times. Not that you recall, of course. Each time seems to end the same, and Wanda is frustrated that she never manages to clearly express her thoughts on the matter enough to convince you.

With a wave of her hand, red phosphenes surround your head, and you unwillingly close your eyes, drifting into a magic induced sleep. The argument is long forgotten by you as she holds you tightly. Something must be done to suppress this independent streak of yours. If you can't be molded to accept her as your provider, then you will be forced to accept it. She considers that perhaps she will have to have a firmer hand in manipulating your mind.

It's not ideal, but Wanda is unwilling to risk losing you. She has already come so far and done so much. As she gazes upon your sleeping form, she contemplates the rules she has broken for you, both in terms of human laws and magic. The people she has murdered.

It would devastate you to know that after those first few nights, Wanda had gone back and eviscerated your parents, and decimated your home. There was nothing redeeming about them. Yes, she had promised not to harm them, but after witnessing all they had done to you and seeing your panic attacks during those first few nights, the witch couldn't restrain her anger. Unbeknownst to you, there was nothing left for you to return to.

To have come so far only to lose you now? Wanda closes her eyes, tears sliding down her cheek as she envisions the consequences if you were to find out. Her heart aches at the thought of your possible rejection. No, the witch thinks firmly. She cannot bear to lose you. She is willing to wait indefinitely, to do whatever it takes. At this point, what do ethics and morals matter?

She would never force you to love her, but Wanda is not above subtly influencing events to win your affection. If that means making a few alterations to some of your memories, so be it. The witch drifts off to sleep, her body wrapped possessively around yours, as you dream on, unaware of the danger you are in.

You know the minute your eyes open that this dream isn’t like the others. You’re lying in bed next to Wanda, but you can’t shake the sensation that something is wrong. You carefully slip out of her arms and pad softly to the door, opening it as quietly as you can. You can’t quite explain it, but the need to run is screaming inside your mind, an echo of the countless other nightmares you’ve had. As soon as the door latches behind you, you take off. If you can just make it to the front door, you can be free! It should only be a few more feet, after all… but the hallway stretches before you impossibly, and that dark laughter you recognize all too well rings in the darkness around you.

Just keep running, you urge yourself. It can’t be much further. Yet with every footfall you find yourself no closer, and her laughter only seems to grow stronger as you push yourself to run faster. In your peripheral vision, something slithers, but each time you turn your head, there is only the dark hallway. The sweat pours from you, and you realize that you will never make it to that door, that freedom. You sink to your knees in that godforsaken, never-ending hallway and feel the despair swell inside you, just as you feel a familiar presence behind you. You turn slowly, terrified to face her…

You wake up suddenly, your body snapping up in bed, rigid, and ready to run. Although you can't remember the specifics of the dream, your shirt is soaked with evidence of your fear. A cool hand gently presses against your sternum, rubbing soothing circles on your body.

"You're alright, darling. It was just a bad dream. You're safe here with me," reassures Wanda with her soothing, raspy voice, thickly accented in the early morning. "Lie back down, Y/N. It's still early, and we can still sleep." Strong yet comforting arms pull you into a warm embrace, and once again you drift off into the darkness of your dreams, this time blissfully free of nightmares.

Time passes in a similar fashion, with Wanda taking care of you and keeping you entertained. During this period, you found yourself becoming increasingly drawn to her. Wanda had made it clear that she had no expectations of you other than your presence. She didn't want you to replace her deceased wife, nor did she expect you to have romantic feelings for her. The witch simply wanted to be near you and protect you.

This was a new experience for you, as genuine altruism was not something you had encountered often in your life. True to her word, Wanda never pressured you for anything more than you were willing to give. As a result, you found yourself developing feelings for the older woman.

It would strike you with sudden clarity in the most unexpected moments. The redhead would laugh with you during a movie, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. This endearing sight and sound would bring a tender warmth to your soul. At other times, she would be busy in the kitchen, preparing one of your favorite meals. As you helped, you would occasionally feel her hand caress your lower back as she passed by, ensuring you wouldn't bump into each other, while managing to avoid being intrusive to your orbit.

Some of your favorite moments were when you could just exist in your own world on your Nintendo Switch, wandering through the halls of your home. Sometimes, you would nearly bump into a wall, just like you often used to at your old house, but instead Wanda would gently guide you back on track, while she continued doing whatever else she was occupied with - usually being on her phone or reading a book.

She would follow quietly behind you without saying a word. She never made you feel bad for being clumsy and uncoordinated. In fact, she didn't seem to consider it a problem at all. A simple gentle touch to your side for adjustment and a quiet "hmm" to get your attention, but she never made a big deal about it. Her actions made you feel cared for; even if you still worried about inconveniencing her, she continued to insist that you weren't.

Wanda always wanted to know what you were thinking but made an effort to ask instead of simply taking that information from your mind at her leisure. Conversations with her could last for hours, with topics flowing effortlessly between the two of you. Rarely did you two run out of things to say. Even when you did, the silence was not overwhelming. To your delight, you discovered that you could coexist in the same space, each doing your own thing, and still feel content in the other's presence. You had never felt this comfortable with anyone before.

There was one day recently that stood out in your memory. Wanda was making adjustments to the house, and you casually mentioned how the drapes in the library could look prettier if they were a different color. You suggested that a new color would make the room brighter and more inviting. Without hesitation, Wanda took you to the room you had referenced and with a flick of her wrists, used her magic to make the change.

It was these little things that caught your attention and made you feel seen. This particular instance made you believe that she genuinely cared about your opinion and was willing to make the effort to meet your specifications.

As Wanda changed the colors and asked for your opinion, all you could focus on was how incredibly beautiful she looked. She was in her element, completely at ease with herself and her abilities. Put simply, she was stunning, almost otherworldly. Your mind didn't even process that she was asking about the color of the drapes when you replied in a soft, breathy whisper, "Perfect."

Upon hearing the tone of your voice, the witch paused in her actions and looked at you with curiosity. She didn't need to read your mind to understand what had happened. A delighted smile slowly formed on her lips, completely charmed by you. Part of her wished to take this moment and playfully flirt with you, since her favorite activity was causing you to become flustered. Instead, she decided to cherish it as a sweet and endearing moment, and let you get away with it.

"I'm glad you think so, darling," she said in a soft, knowing tone, and you realized you had been caught nonetheless. Bright red bloomed across your cheeks, reaching all the way up to your ears.

You mumbled a quick "The colors look great, Wanda. Thanks," before hastening to escape her scrutiny.

Although she didn't want to, Wanda allowed you to make your escape. She bit her lip as she watched you flee, knowing that you hadn't experienced much kindness after enduring so much trauma. Seeing the progress you had been making brought her a great deal of happiness. Maybe one day you would be receptive to her advances, but for now, she would be patient and give you the space you needed.

She didn’t often actively read your mind these days, you still had yet to master shielding your thoughts from her. Not that she wanted you to. Additionally, being so familiar with your other variant, she was intimately aware of your mannerisms and facial expressions. While there were some differences and new quirks for her to learn, she found that she loved each new aspect she discovered. Wanda almost couldn't wait for the day when you would finally be hers completely and when you would embrace her love for you the way she desired.

You were growing more comfortable with her, Wanda could tell, simply by observing your reactions to her. The way your body would relax and lean into her touch, the way you appreciated the small gestures she did for you and how you tried to assist her wherever you could, even when she didn't necessarily need it.

Wanda certainly couldn't mistake the lingering glances you would give her when you thought she wasn't looking. She knew you would never objectify her; the few times your thoughts did wander in appreciation, were often followed by an immediate scolding from yourself. But sometimes, she wished you wouldn't get after yourself so harshly. Wanda wanted you to see her in that way. Craved it, even.

Unfortunately, you didn't seem to understand the distinction between objectifying someone and appreciating them. Throughout your life, your parents conditioned you to believe that you were a predator of some sort. Consequently, whenever you felt any attraction towards someone of the same sex, self-loathing would kick in almost immediately, accompanied by a deep sense of shame. Your conditioning making you believe that you were no different from a man on the street who harassed women, thereby making them feel unsafe.

As you quickly left the room, you couldn't help but notice the way Wanda's knowing gaze had lingered on you. You intended to spend the rest of the day hiding out in the gaming room, trying to process what had just happened. Your Imposter Syndrome was rearing it's ugly head, making you doubt yourself. While Wanda's constant reassurances that she only wanted your presence and nothing more had been comforting in one way - at least you didn't have to worry about her making any inappropriate advances. However, another part of you had begun to wish she would, inspiring deeply conflicting emotions in you.

What if Wanda never saw you that way? Someone like you could never hope to measure up to a superhero. You were simply... you. Knowing that she was the widow of your Avenger variant left you feeling inadequate to say the least. Besides, what if Wanda was being honest about not wanting anything more from you? What if all you were to her was a means to get over the grief of her lost wife?

It was this thought which sparked a new fear within you: what if, once she finished with you, the witch simply discarded you like so many others had and moved on? Your stomach tightened into knots, and your breathing quickened. Thoughts raced through your mind as you realized how much the idea of being abandoned, now that you finally felt at home for the first time in your life, terrified you.

If she grew tired of you, your only choice would be to return to your parents. Considering the way you left, it was unlikely that they would welcome you back with open arms. While you were only a few exams away from completing your degree, it dawned on you that you had been constantly stressed and overwhelmed long before Wanda had come into your life. Did you really want to go back to that? Was having a job after earning the degree even worth it? You had few, if any, friends, and if they weren't upset with you for disappearing for however long you had been gone, it would be a surprise. You had nowhere to go.

As your thoughts spiraled and your body froze in place, Wanda could practically hear your unshielded anxiety screaming at her all the way from the library where she had remained. At first, she thought maybe there was an intruder within their home, but that was impossible - her wards always alerted her to any external presence. No, she realized the threat must be internal. Fear gripping her, Wanda waved her fingers, opening up a portal directly to you.

The sight she came upon was heart wrenching. You were curled up on the couch, clearly trapped in a panic attack, completely disconnected from reality. Although Wanda had been trying lately to respect your thoughts and not delve into them without permission, she needed to understand the root cause of your fear in order to support you better.

Not that she needed to go far, your thoughts were so loud, but they were also disorganized and scattered, like a whirlwind. It took her a moment to decipher exactly what you were afraid of, but once she figured it out, the redhead regretted not taking more time to reassure you earlier.

"Oh darling, no, hey. Honey, listen to me," she said, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands in hers. She rubbed soothing circles into them, trying to provide comfort. As much as she wanted to pull you into her arms until all your fears evaporated, she knew that unexpected hugs often had the opposite effect on you, as even your Avenger variant occasionally struggled with anxiety attacks.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Can you focus on my voice for just a moment? Please?”

Her soothing voice barely interrupted your thoughts, and if Wanda used her magic just a little to help her reach you, well, that was in your best interest. You didn't move much, but your eyes lost their unfocused look, to meet finally shifting to meet Wanda's, indicating that you were paying attention.

“Darling, you are perfect, just the way you are. I will never discard you, okay? I didn’t come this far to let you go. This is your home now Y/N. Our home. And I’m never letting you go, alright? I don’t expect you to be a superhero, Y/N. I like you just the way you are, and I would never abandon you, lyubov moya.” Throughout her words, Wanda was continuing to rub soothing circles into your hands, occasionally straying up your arms to grip you reassuringly.

“Can you breathe with me please? We’re going to take some slow, deep breaths. In for four, hold for four, and then out for four, okay Y/N?”

You nodded, blindly following her words.

The former avenger spent the next few moments guiding you through breathing exercises. These exercises were designed to calm the parasympathetic nervous system, and as she went through them with you, she continued to speak quiet reassurances and hold your hand. The goal was to keep you grounded in the present moment. She wanted you to focus on what you could hear and feel, while also settling your breathing.

It worked. Within a few minutes, you regained your calm, or at least as calm as you could ever be. This wasn't the first panic attack she had witnessed from you, but it was certainly the most intense one. The way Wanda always came to your rescue, assuring you that it was perfectly normal to have these moments and helping you recover from them, made your heart melt a little more for her. Especially when she brought you back to your shared bed, helped you change into your favorite comfy pajamas, and snuggled up next to you for a nap to help you overcome the episode.

Truly, Wanda was your savior.

A/N 2: I've never done a taglist before so I hope this works? @dorabledewdroop Chapter three, hope it lives up to expectations!

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader

113 notes · View notes

jayfortheday · 2 years

Note

I am OBSESSED with your Vance writings, literally losing my mind I’m so glad someone else likes him as much as I do. Any chance you could write an AU where the reader is kidnapped by the grabber and Vance saves/comforts them?? thank you again for your works omg I love them, and no worries if my ask is out of your comfort zone!

Stolen (Vance Hopper)

Pairing: Vance Hopper x GN!Reader (romantic)

Word count: 2034

Description: Ever since Y/N was taken by the Grabber, all of Vance’s time has gone towards finding them. When Vance wanders a certain neighborhood after days of searching, he spots Y/N in the window of a stranger's basement.

Tags: canon divergence, alternate universe, kidnapping, blood, police, gunshots, violence, angst, fuck sound physics

~~~~~~~~~~~~

On normal days, Vance would walk you home from school. However, Vance had tutoring on Fridays so you were all alone today. As you walked along the empty sidewalk, you could hear the sound of a car rounding the corner behind you. You could hear the car approach and in your peripheral vision, you could see a large black van pull up beside you. You paused and turned your head to look at it. The window on the passenger's side was open and inside, you saw an unfamiliar man wearing dark sunglasses. He stopped his van alongside you.

“I’m sorry, kid, but do you know how to get to the highway from here? I’m trying to get to Denver,” the man inside said, laughing a little as he talked. You took a moment to think about how to describe the directions. “Uh, yeah. You’re gonna wanna turn out of the neigborhood up on Rayland street and go left ‘till you hit Main and-.” The man raised up his hand to interrupt you.

“Do you think you could just show me on my map? I know I’m gonna forget what you said,” he laughed again as he spoke. It put you off a little but you nodded.

He grabbed something you presumed was a map from his glovebox and opened his driver side door to step out and walked towards you. He walked around the van to you and you waited for him to show you his map. Before you could even comprehend what happened, he brought up some kind of aerosol can and sprayed something into your face. You cried out but a consuming void overtook all your senses and you fell limp into the man’s waiting arms.

- - -

When you awoke, you found yourself on a stained mattress with an offensive odor. Your vision was cloudy as you looked around the room. Through your blurry vision, you saw concrete walls with one small window near the top of the wall on your left. Other than that one source of light, the room was dark. You groaned slightly and tried to use your arms to raise yourself. Despite your best efforts, they gave out and you fell back onto the mattress. Black began to cloud your vision again and sleep took you once more.

- - -

When you awoke again, your vision was more clear. Your body didn’t feel as heavy and you were able to support yourself when you sat up. You rubbed some of the sleep from your eyes and ran your hands through your hair as you typically would when you woke up. When you finally took a good look at your surroundings, it hit you what had happened. You cautiously lifted your head to examine your space.

You jumped slightly as you saw a figure standing on the wall, just under the window. Your eyes went wide as they stayed trained on them.

“Awake?” The figure asked, slowly stepping forward. You didn’t respond. As the figure came into the light, you saw a tall man wearing a strange mask with horns and a large smile. He stepped forward, stopping at the edge of the mattress and crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a casual tone, speaking slightly slower than you would expect him to. He reached out his hand and lightly ran it along the side of your face. You shut your eyes and shuddered at the touch.

“You look thirsty. You want a soda?” The man asked. His tone was hard to read and not being able to see his expression made his intentions unclear. You were thirsty though, but you were too afraid to properly respond.

“I’ll be right back,” the man said, standing back to his full height and walking to the door at the other end of the room. With nothing else to do, you lay onto the mattress and waited for the man to return.

---

Vance, once again, wandered a new neighborhood. He looked at all the houses, gardens, and even trash cans looking for something that could guide him to your whereabouts. As he had for the past five days, he found nothing. All of the houses were normal houses, all the gardens were normal gardens, even all the trash was normal trash. His steps grew tired, he was beginning to lose hope.

Just inside the range of his hearing, he began to detect a quiet sound. The sound of a voice calling out, though he could make out no words. Although he had very little reason to believe it was anything other than normal, Vance followed the sound to find it’s cause. The sound was only a couple houses away, someone not looking likely wouldn’t notice. Once he finally found the area from which the sound was coming, he paused, his eyes dutifully searching.

There were two houses right next to each other, and Vance stood between them. As soon as he had reached the peak of the noise, it stopped and was replaced by another sound. What sounded like quiet screams before was now replaced by even quieter sobs. Vance’s mind was racing, but only between two thoughts. ‘What if it was you’ and ‘what if it isn’t you’,

---

You had screamed until your throat burned and your cheeks hurt to move. Even with all your desperate screams, there was no indication that anyone could hear you. You tried to push out another scream but your throat refused. After another attempt, you stopped. An utter feeling of defeat began to sink into your heart. You lay down on the mattress and rubbed your palms on your eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat as tears began to spill from your eyes. Even though there was no one there to witness your misery, you tried to hold in your tears, as if crying was admitting defeat to the situation. Despite your best effort, the sobs broke through. As soon as they came, you caved into the sadness, allowing your emotions to break free. You hugged your arms around yourself, leaning on your side as your body shook. Your body was still quite injured from what you had endured a couple of nights before, so your sobs were agonizing.

You missed your house, you missed your dog, you missed your friends, and in this moment, you missed Vance. You wanted so desperately to leave wherever you were and to just forget this all happened, to pretend it was a dream. You imagined that you left, you imagined you were saved, you imagined that you stayed late at school or never agreed to give that man directions, anything but this.

---

Stuck between two houses, Vance contemplated what to do. He looked for a place to start, maybe a window or a door, something. Close to the ground on the house on his left lay a small window, maybe two feet by four feet. Having nowhere else to look, Vance leaned down and peered in the window. He wasn’t prepared for what he would see inside.

Inside, he saw a stained bed with a curled up figure in the middle, emitting the sobs he heard from outside. There were metal bars on the window obscuring his view, but he could still see what he needed. He gave the window a knock, trying to attract the attention of the figure inside. The person inside froze at the noise, ceasing all noise and movement. Vance knocked again and the person cautiously looked up to the window with new confirmation of where the sound came from.

Although he couldn’t make out any facial features, the hair and clothes were strikingly familiar. The figure on the bed stood up and slowly approached the window. He waited impatiently for their face to enter the light.

---

The knock on the window had pulled you from your sorrow. You froze at the sound, not sure if it was real or imagined. When it came again, you knew it was real. You looked up to the window, hopeful someone had noticed your screams. As you looked up, you saw a shadow blocking the light coming in. You stood up slowly, cautiously approaching the window. You were careful. What if this was a trap? You approached the window until you were as close as you could get while still remaining in view.

---

Now that light was shown on the features of the person in the basement room, Vance’s hopes and fears were confirmed. There you stood, red eyes and tear-stained face, scratches, and bruises on your cheeks and eye. Your hair was messy and your clothes wrinkled and splattered with blood. Emotions inside him swelled as he processed you standing there. He watched your face change from confusion to shock. He watched you run up to the window and try to jump to climb it. Your hands hit the sill but your grip wasn’t tight enough and you fell. Empathetic pain crossed his face as your head smacked against the concrete floor.

You took a small second before standing up and walking up to the window again.

“Vance,” you said, your voice greatly muffled by the thick glass and metal bars. “Vance, help. Please help.” Sadness filled Vance’s heart as he heard the subtle defeat in your muffled voice.

“I’m gonna get you out of there, Y/N. I swear, I swear on my life,” Vance promised, pressing his hand to the window. “I’m gonna get the cops, and they’re gonna get you out of there, and they’re gonna arrest the motherfucker who did this, and everything’s gonna be ok.” You nodded, back up slightly, and sat back on the bed, still looking at Vance.

“Please hurry, Vance,” you pleaded. “I’m scared.”

---

Sirens blared around the house as cops flooded the inside. Vance stood anxiously by the sidewalk, waiting for any sign of you. At least six cops entered the home, guns bared. There was shouting inside and the sound of a single shot being fired. Vance winced at the sound. Normally, Vance would appear stoic to any passersby, but the emotion of the situation had him anxious.

Soon enough, two officers walked out of the house, escorting a man. The man had chin-length hair and pale skin. He struggled against the cops, who held him by his arms. They escorted him to the herd of police cars, where they roughly shoved him inside of one. It was maybe one minute more before the rest of the officers exited the house. The first three cops emerged empty-handed, but the fourth carried a body in his arms. Vance immediately knew it was you.

You were curled into the officer’s body, shaking slightly. Vance watched the officer walk over to and rest you in the ambulance parked by the sidewalk. Once they sat you in the van and the police officer walked over to the others, Vance ran over to you.

“Y/N!” He called out as he ran to you.

“Vance!” You shouted back to him, trying to stand to meet him. He met you before you could and almost tackled you in an embrace. Pain coursed through your body as he held you, but the emotional relief was too great to end it.

Vance pulled away slightly to examine you. He lightly brushed a piece of hair away from your face to examine your facial injuries.

“Y/N, I, I’m so sorry, I-,” you cut him off with a finger to his mouth. You grabbed either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours. You kissed him gently, yet passionately. As soon as you pulled him into you, he wrapped his arms around your torso and leaned into the kiss. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away.

“I really missed you, Vance,” you sighed, your lip trembling slightly. Vance brought his hand up to your face and smoothed over your lip with his thumb.

“I missed you too, baby,” he replied softly. “But you’re back to me now, and you better bet I’m never letting you go again.”

“Never?” You chuckled quietly. Vance pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

“Never.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Woah! This is the longest fic I've written exclusively for this blog! I hope y'all who had the stamina enjoyed it, I had a blast writing it. I based the reader's experience off of Finny's in the movie since it sounds like the same things that happened to him happened to the other kids as well

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #the black phone #fanfiction #fanfic

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whimsicalmeerkat · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday

@dear-massacre tagged me for this. It’ll be a few hours before I can get to my WIP Wednesday Game asks, so I figured why not do this. This is the beginning of wash off all this blame, one of the fics on my list for the game.

“Pack a bag.”

Stiles looks up and sees Derek coming through his window. He doesn’t even bother to look at Stiles as he says it. Just casually glances around his bedroom.

“At least a week of clothes. Make sure you bring some sort of jacket,” he goes on.

“Wha-what? Why? Where are we going? Why do you think I’m going to go anywhere with you?” Stiles sputters, waving his hands in time with his questions.

Derek looks at him and rolls his eyes.

“Just do it, Stiles.”

Stiles gapes. He knows his mouth is hanging open in an unattractive way, but, let’s face it, that would never matter with Derek. There’s no way Derek would ever consider if Stiles is attractive. It also isn’t the point right now.

“I cannot just pack a bag and leave with you in the middle of the night. This is not a Regency novel, I’m not running away to Gretna Green with you.”

Derek rolls his eyes even harder. “It’s 11 in the morning, Stiles.”

“That? That is what you took from that? Seriously?”

“If you want any other clothes, you should get them now. I’m not waiting around for you.”

“There is no way I can just disappear for days, dude. My dad will start a manhunt. Literally. With inter-agency coordination.”

“Bring your laptop” was Derek’s only reply.

Stiles stares until Derek huffs.

“Your dad already knows,” he says through his teeth, like giving information physically pains him.

Stiles does not believe that is a thing that is possible, so he grabs his phone. He pulls up his text chain with his father and types Derek Hale says he has your permission to kidnap me. He glares at Derek some more while he waits for a response.

Dad: Don’t forget your adderall.

“What?!”

Stiles stares at his phone. He is baffled. He currently exists in a state of complete bafflement.

No pressure tags: @ragingrainbow, @okdeannawrites, @mrpinniped, @girlwithakiwi, @bad-at-names-and-faces, @anartificialsatellite, and anyone else who wants to do it.

#wip wednesday #writing #fanfic #teen wolf #sterek #whimsicalmeerkat #wm wash off all this blame #author:whimsicalmeerkat

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cabinofimagines · 6 months

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Panic! at the costume shop

A/N: Even in my busiest times I wouldn't forget to get a costume, shame on them -Danny Pairing: Platonic Percabeth and Piper x reader Warnings: Gay jokes < prev. - next >

"You guys are lucky to have me as your friend for real," you mumbled, checking your Halloween list to see if you needed anything from the shop. As usual, you had it all covered.

"Yeah, you know what I like most about you is how humble you are," Percy teased you.

"Man, we're gonna get the worst costumes ever," Piper complained.

"I don't wanna say that's on you 'cause you left everything last, but..."

"Shut up, Y/N," Annabeth scowled. "You either help or you leave."

"You kidnapped me!"

"That is a strong statement, we didn't kidnap you, it was Piper," Percy replied.

"Didn't," Piper replied casually. "I said I'm taking them to the movies and I am, after they help me choose a costume."

"This is gonna take ages, you and Annabeth are so picky," you glanced at Percy and grinned. "You, on the other hand, I love you cause you would settle for a sack of potatoes and you'd tell everyone you're a scarecrow."

Percy stopped and tilted his head like he'd just gotten a huge revelation handed to him. Annabeth elbowed him.

"You're not gonna do that!"

"It's better than what you two have! Which is nothing," he scoffed, rubbing the arm his girlfriend had punched.

"If this year you're not matching with anyone," Piper nudged your arm. "What's going to be your costume?"

You smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I know it's taking Cal ages to finish it, I hope you're paying that woman for all her hard work."

"'Course I'm paying, though she always charges less than she should."

"Hey, what about going like Ghostface, Mike Myers, and Jason?" Percy suggested, pointing at the few popular costumes left.

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. "No, there'll be many of those at the party... There's gotta be something good left!"

With a bit of frustration, Annabeth pushed through several costumes dismissing them on the go until one caught her eye.

She slowly moved out of the pile, holding a single—but bulky—matching set of costumes.

Piper leaned over to read its tag. "Rock, paper, scissors..."

The girls and you shared a look. None of you wanted to say it, but it was obvious you were all thinking of the same dumb joke.

"Are we seriously considering this?" Annabeth asked, though her eyes were shining with amusement.

"What? I've been preparing for this role my whole life," Piper claimed, grabbing the scissors costume.

"I don't get it," Percy frowned, which of course triggered a laughing fit on the rest of you.

"I'll tell you later," Annabeth chuckled, patting her boyfriend's back and handing him the rock costume.

"Leo's gonna have a field day with this," You snorted. "Alright, let's pay for these and go! Piper promised me a movie."

"Has to be horror, I presume?"

"And IMAX!"

"Yeah, thought so."

#halloween verse #halloween fic #halloweek 2023 #danny's writing #pjo fanfic #hoo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

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protect-namine · 11 months

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I remember very very casually following the dp fandom back in like. the mid-2010's. (by "following" I meant more like I followed blogs that happened to get really into the fandom and I just absorbed the interest through osmosis. and also occasionally read fics). kinda awed, but not really surprised, that it's still alive and thriving.

what does surprise me now, after venturing into the tags since forever ago, is how it spawned this... massive amounts of superhero crossover stuff? actually this doesn't surprise me too much. I read a teen titans x danny phantom fic but that was forever ago and it wasn't even on AO3 (although it's archived there). I read it back in ffnet!! (I forget the title but it's the one where robin is at a gala and meets jazz who tells him to find danny and let him know she's alive and robin is like. who's danny??? but then jazz acts like she doesn't know what she's talking about because she's. yknow. a ghost possessed kidnapped person, etc etc).

anyway. back then I don't remember the superhero crossover stuff being as prominent as it is now. so now, even though I'm visiting the tag for dp out of nostalgia, it feels reminiscent of my prior experience because I am also unintentionally absorbing information about the dcu purely through osmosis due to the huge amounts of crossover posts.

like. I did not sign up to learn who all of batman's robins are, or who john constantine is. but somehow. I do now. because of danny phantom. ?????

#mine musings #i wasn't into any of the superhero stuff like. ever. except maybe x-men and teen titans and that's only because #i watched the animated series for both of them when i was a kid #but like. it was a casual interest i wasn't really into the whole comics thing #but now. i'm like. okay. there are SO many robins out there ???#and i'm learning all of this through a different fandom??#not opposed to it... but this is not how i thought i would learn about them

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persephonescottage · 2 years

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gunpowder games || 02

Paring: Mafia!Billy Russo x reader

Words: 1318

Warnings: Dark Romance, Kidnapping, Violence, Drugs, Mentions of sex and sex related injuries, mentions of consensual non consensual situations? (please let me know if I forget something.)

A/N: Thank you to everyone that read the first part of this, hope you enjoy! I never thought anyone would like to be tagged on my work but if you do let me know and I’ll do it :)

11 months ago.

DEA New York Division.

“I said no Frank! So if you’re here to insist on that stupid plan you better go back to Smith.”

Your voice filled the room as soon as Frank closed the door of your office behind him. His hands in the pockets of his jeans would often let you know that asking you what he was about to ask wasn't his idea.

Frank Castle was always so transparent.

He was a six foot one, two hundred pound puppy dog at your will, and you rolled your eyes at the way you too could see why there were rumors in the organization of you two dating.

“Come on doll, just think about it.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t even have to think about it, I’ve done it a million times before!”

You were tired of the same old thing.

It hadn’t been more than six months since you transferred to New York from California. Six years of working for the Drug Enforcement Administration gave you certain credentials no one could take from you.

The slut shaming came with it, but hey, so did the paycheck.

Operations in South America were always standard. Take your clothes off, get them drunk, eavesdrop. And even if deep down you wished you could be the voice in your ear piece telling you what to do instead of doing it, you weren’t complaining.

Were you proud of the way you had seduced powerful men to gather information?

No.

Did the fact that those criminals had only been put behind bars because of you make you feel stronger?

Yes.

But coming to New York would be different, you thought. They said they needed your intel. They said you’d be valuable for their team.

Well they lied.

That morning in a meeting with the board you had discovered they didn’t want your advise or your experience on how to catch a bad guy, they wanted you to do it for them.

“They told me I would come here and help with intel, they didn’t tell me I had to sleep with Russo.”

“Well, it’s worked before and I-“

He stopped himself when he felt your eyes burning into him.

You and Frank had met as soon as you got to the city. You had to work together in a couple of small cases and became best friends on the way. It was like a game to you two. Whoever solves less cases gets coffee tomorrow type of game.

The chemistry that everybody else saw in you two was definitely there, but in a brother and sister kind of way.

Frank was the scary looking man with insanely survival skills and the personality of a cinnamon roll and you were cute and sweet on the outside, you could make even the meanest criminal trust you.

You were the DEA’s dream team.

“I just mean that you’ve done it before so it’s only logical you’re the best for the case. I understand it’s beneath you but it’s for the greater good.”

“I’m not upset I have to fuck Billy Russo.”

You said casually and then smiled at the way Frank’s eyes got wide at your profanity.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures in the Italian suits.”

“You mean the pictures of the psychopathic murderous man in the Italian suits?”

“What I mean is, wearing crotch less panties and sleeping with a criminal isn’t the problem. I just wished they would have told me that’s why I was here for, instead of making me believe I would finally be going to the big leagues.”

“Who said anything about crotchless panties?”

You rolled your eyes at your friend and you both laughed.

Truth be told no one had been more against the decision of your superiors than Frank was. He knew you had done operations like that back in California, but this time they wanted you to go to Billy Russo alone.

It was suicidal.

“I’m not an idiot Frank. I’ve know the way men see me in this office. I’m sadly aware I’ve come this far because of my looks.”

“Well I think your achievements are greater.”

“Greater than this ass?”

You joke at the situation, because what else could you do? Frank laughs too and you loosen up.

“You know they sent me to convince you.”

You nod annoyed.

“You know they told me I was the only one that could make you come back to your senses. Smith even winked at me! I think they expect us to have sex on you desk or something.”

You both made a disgusted face and laughed again.

“It won’t work Frank, the operation I mean, even if I do my sluttiest attempts, I don’t think I could get William Russo to confess anything.”

“I think it will.”

“Sure you do, cause you’re not the one that has to fuck him. Like, exactly how good in bed does this organization think I am?”

“That’s not what I meant. I think it will work because I’m coming to Texas with you.”

You felt your eyes grow and couldn’t help a smile on your lips.

“I talked to Smith, we have to work on a story and they’re giving us Al from IT. But you’re not going alone.”

We’re you still mad?

Yes.

Where you relieved the killing machine that Frank Castle was would come with you?

Absolutely.

“Come on let’s meet with Smith and you gotta show me those crotchless panties later.”

***

“Mr. Russo, Miss Karen wants to see you.”

Billy rolled his eyes, his hand still holding the phone to his ear while on a work call, he made a sign to his foreman indicating him he denied the request and then another that commanded him to leave as he continued to speak.

“I better be seeing that shipment here tomorrow morning.”

“Sir? I’m sorry but Miss Karen-“ the foreman insisted.

“What the fuck do you want Joe?”

The loud voice filled the cherry wood office as the man took a step back frightened. Billy hung up the phone unbothered by the man talking on the line.

“It’s Miss Karen-“

“Tell my sister I’m busy. I don’t have time for her right now.”

His voice was still loud and inconvenienced.

“Why don't you tell me so yourself?”

The sweet voice was followed by the presence of the blonde woman entering his office. Billy offered her a sarcastic grin when he saw her sit in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

Karen Page was Billy’s half sister.

Both raised in the system and sharing the same mother, Billy had done whatever it took to get his sister out of the hell they lived in right when he turned eighteen. Even if that meant crime.

With time and the right choices Billy became an important man with a single soft spot. He wanted her to have a future, a career, a life, and so he had one rule, whatever happened, Karen stayed out of trouble.

But his sister was smart and beautiful and Billy had done nothing but spoil her rotten all of those years, so it was only natural that she had figured out a way to wrap her brother around her finger.

Usually by throwing tantrums and spending his money.

“Please leave us Joe.”

Billy’s voice came out frustrated and annoyed, he only continued once his foreman had left the room, closing the doors behind him.

“What is it now Karen? Can’t you see I’m working?”

“We need to talk.”

“Fine, but make it quick, I have a lot of work to do.”

Billy looked into her bright blue eyes and knew she hadn’t come to ask for shopping money or a new car. She smiled innocently the way she did when something big was coming.

“I want to go back to Boston.”

Tag list: @oeuryale

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #Mafia!billyrusso #My writting #ben barnes #Gunpowder games

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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angsty-omi · 3 years

Text

was she just a friend?

hajime iwaizumi x Reader

tw: very slight domestic abuse, insecurity, no happy ending, swearing, suggestive themes, and no editing prior.

when you first started dating hajime, you had accepted the fact that he had a really close girl friend. how could you not? before you guys made it official he made sure his concerns were met with. this should’ve been the first red flag, however, you were blinded by love.

at first, it was subtle. she’d tag along with you guys on your walk home, which you didn’t mind at all. most of the trips, she’d make fun of iwaizumi and reminisce when they were kids. which, in turn, made you laugh. a lot. and usually after she got home, you and iwaizumi could spend the sunset together. his large calloused hand would wrap around yours, and he’d bring your hand up to peck it. your heart grew bigger by the minute.

then, one day after she left, both of his hands gripped your jaw, and soft lips were pressed against yours. you smiled into the kiss and added more pressure. as he pulled away, you instinctively moved forward for more. that made him chuckle, and grabbed your chin once more. however, this kiss was more passionate. you could never forget that night. it was purely blissful.

for the next six months, life felt like paradise. there was a consistency of “i love you-s,” cuddles, and even sex. but, as they say, happiness is only temporary. on your sixth month anniversary, you and hajime had planned a fancy dinner date on the bay. you showed up early, with excitement written on your face. you were currently wearing a satin maroon dress with a black trench coat on top. as you sat at your table, you pulled out a box out of your pocket. it was a promise ring. you rubbed the circumference of it, trying to ease your nerves. was this moving too fast? you were certain that you couldn’t love another the way you love hajime.

as the hour strikes, he still hadn’t showed up. you repeatedly checked your watch, and even asked other people’s in case your time was wrong. you texted hajime multiple times with no response. anxiety started bubbling in your stomach. what if hajime’s hurt? what if he got into a car accident? what if a UFO came down and kidnapped him? you prayed to yourself that none of those things were true.

before you even realized it, another hour went by. and at this point the waiters were passively suggesting you to leave, due to their full house. at first, you were weary, what if hajime shows up? you thought. although, you complied with the waiters and left. you called him so many times with no pick up. before jumping to conclusions, you decided to text her.

y/n: hey, have you talked to hajime recently?

her: nope! but i can text him if you’d like!

y/n: sure

you rolled your eyes at her message, she acted like he’d answer her and not you. you were his girlfriend for god sakes. obviously if he could text someone it’d be you... atleast that’s what you thought before you got a notification.

her: oh he just said he’s at home, was there something you needed?

that text broke your heart. he’s at home? worst of all he texted her back and not you? you just left her on read and headed home.

as you slammed your phone on the bed, you got ready to sleep. slipping into one of hajime’s shirts and a pair of underwear you tuck yourself in. while drifting, you inhaled his shirt and it smelled like him. his cologne had a wood musk scent to it which you adored. and before you realized it, you were crying. crying yourself to sleep.

the next morning during school, you did everything in your power to ignore hajime. you skipped the lockers, lunch, and even prevented going to bathroom in case he was there. who could blame you? you were still upset after being stood up.

“miss y/n, could you grab these papers and send it to the office please?” your teacher asked.

you picked up the hefty amount of sheets and went on your merry way. with your guard down roaming the hallways, you failed to notice her and hajime at the end of it. as you both looked up from a long distance with eye contact, you simply turned around and took a detour. you could hear sneakers quickly catching up to you. it was hajime.

“hey baby i haven’t seen you all day,” he wrapped his arm around you.

you ignored him and continued looking straight ahead.

“hey are you okay?”

silence.

“y/n if you’re going to act like this and not tell me what’s going on, i’m going to go.” hajime said with a stern voice. you bit your lip, trying to hold tears back. you nudged yourself off of him and replied “fine.”

how could he be mad at you? and why’s he acting like nothing happened?

at the end of the school day, hajime was waiting at the gates for you. you caught sight of him and sighed. you couldn’t hold it off any longer. as you approached him, you saw her peeking out next to him. of course. with annoyance, you started walking home, with them behind you. the walk home was silent, excluding the loud footsteps trailing behind you. as soon as she turned for her house and a couple more steps, hajime grabbed your wrists and gently pinned you on the wall.

“tell me what’s wrong.”

immediately, tears start falling down your face.

“how could you forget about our sixth months?”

at this point, iwaizumi’s face turned pale. paler than a sheet of printer paper. he quickly kissed your tears, and rambled apologies.

“i can explain, that day hachi had some major family issues. her dad had just left the house to get drunk, and her mom was out of town. she needed me to come over, so i rushed.”

“so then, why didn’t you text me back?”

“what?”

“you heard me”

“i gave my phone to hachi because her dad broke hers.”

you gave a confused look. her phone wasn’t broken, she literally texted you and to think about it you never said her name aloud or in your thoughts.

“what? i literally texted her the night of and she said you texted her back saying you were home”

“hachi wouldn’t do that.”

did he just assume that you would lie? what reason would you even have to lie? you pulled up your phone and showed him the messages.

“this was probably a misunderstanding, are you sure your connection was good? some of them probably didn’t send so it looks bad” he casually said.

you were just in so much shock when he said that. how could he? why did he? your head started to feel stressed so you just walked away. not wanting to hear his idiotic excuses anymore. he trailed behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“please don’t leave us on bad terms, i’m sorry i won’t do it again” you felt tears on the back of your school uniform.

“i guess it wouldn’t hurt to forget this one instance” you thought to yourself. so what did you do? you forgave him.

poor little naive girl.

after you guys made up, he decided to have a make up anniversary. you guys cuddled up on your bed and watched many sappy romance movies while ordering your favorite place. this was way better than an expensive dinner. you were just glad he was in your arms again and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you got up from the bed with his arms dragging behind to go into your dresser, where you hid the box. as you were about to turn around and suprise him, his phone rang. who could be calling at this hour? you know who. hachi.

“don’t pick it up” you frowned.

“please babe just give me one second?” he pouted.

you nod in a agony. as he answered it, you could hear dramatic tears on the other end with a concerned hajime on the line.

“are you okay?! he did what?! i’m coming right now”

as he ended the call, he buckled his pants back on.

“you’re kidding right?”

you hid the tiny box behind your back.

“what are you talking about y/n?” he frustrated, clearly stressed out.

“this is our anniversary and you’re going over to see another girl?”

“y/n, she’s my best friend and you know that. plus she’s home alone and her dad just broke a window.”

“then can i come with you?”

he shook his head, “i don’t think she wants anyone to see her in that state right now”

“except for you, hm makes sense okay”

“can you please not be insecure for like one day?” his fingers ran through his hair.

your eyes widened, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one that made me insecure! first i dropped the whole dinner phone text thing even though there was obvious evidence hachi was trying to sabotage us, why can’t you see it?!”

“y/n, at the beginning of our relationship you acknowledged that i had a close girl friend. and with that, the dinner thing was just a misunderstanding. stop bringing that up or else.” he aggressed.

“are you seriously threatening me right now?”

“if you leave right now.. t-then we’re over!” the words just slipped out of your mouth. both of you guys were in shock. you were just so relentlessly depleted from this argument that you decided this was your solution.

he furiously opened the door, “hajime wai-” you were cut off by the door slamming shut. tears were flowing like a waterfall at this point. you gave yourself some time to breathe and reevaluate. you couldn’t lose hajime, he was your person. your light. your yellow. you put on your sneakers and ran to hachi’s house, knowing he’d be there. you grabbed the promise ring alongside so you could beg for forgiveness.

your breath was ragged, damn were you out of shape. but at the end, you got to your destination. as you analyzed the house, there seem to be no windows broken, but the front door was opened slightly. you knew she was lying from the start about her dad smashing things. you slowly walked in as quiet as possible and could hear sobs in the other room. as you pressed your ear to the door, it was hajime’s sobs. your heart felt so much guilt, sayings like “i love her so much” and “how could she just say that?” were the only phrases you could comprehend. then there was silence. as you opened the door, prepared to make up, you couldn’t believe your eyes. hachi and hajime’s face were about a half an inch away from each other. they both looked up at you.

“nice intact windows, take this stupid fucking ring, you’re dead to me iwaizumi” you chucked the box at him. as he looked at the box, it had been embroidered ‘promise’ on it and he knew what that meant. you quickly made your exit through the door with hajime closely behind you.

you stopped in your tracks, “please just leave me alone” your voice now dainty.

“y/n, plea-”

“please what? please forget about what i saw? i knew it i fucking knew it. you know what, this whole time you made me like the bad guy when it was YOU. you made me like this, and the worst part is I STILL LOVE YOU.” you punched jabs into his chest. obviously it didn’t hurt him physically, but emotionally it felt like a million swords were stabbing him repeatedly.

“please stop this, is there anyway you can forgive me? please?” he sobbed.

“i’ll do anything”

“would you leave hachi for me?” you asked sharply.

his hesitation was all you needed. in his head he answered yes, but it was like his vocal chords stopped working. deep in his heart, he knew you deserved better. so he stayed quiet.

“go to hell, go fuck hachi or something see if i care.” but you did care. you just wished that he fought just a little bit for you. but he never did and you had to accept it like a champ.

before this all happened, you had dreamed about iwaizumi hajime and yours’s future. but now it’s all ruined.

you’re left heartbroken and lost $350 on a ring that had no meaning.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizume x reader #haikyuu fluff

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 27 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves! Just a reminder that this chapter is posting from the queue as I am on vacation--- I will be checking in periodically but less active than usual and not updating the tag list! Hope y’all enjoy this one :)

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: food mention, hangover mention, discussion of parenting, canon-typical mentions of violence

wordcount: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, you’re somewhere between completely refreshed and wickedly hungover. You need a bacon egg and cheese on an everything bagel and a big cup of coffee stat if you are going to get anything at all done today. Aaron, of course, must have gotten up hours ago, and has long past left the bedroom by the time you rise at nearly 11. When you roll to get out of bed, you notice that he’s left you advil, water, and a sleeve of saltines just in case you were feeling nauseous. You smiled, sitting up gingerly to sip at the water and take the pills. Once you were sure your stomach was fine, you slid out of bed and found Jack and Aaron in the kitchen, cooking up bacon and frying eggs while The Beatles played in the background. The boys hadn’t noticed you yet, and you decided not to call attention to yourself-- taking the moment to commit this mental image to memory, of Jack on his father’s hip, Aaron rocking back and forth as he pushed scrambled eggs around a frying pan, smiling and giggling and not thinking about work or serial killers or the next time he’d be pulled away.

When the song fades out, Aaron looks up, seeing you leaning against the doorway to the hall.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” He asks, looking you up and down for signs of a hangover.

“I’m okay. I’ll be better after breakfast,” you tell him. “And a big hug from my favorite Hotchner!” You add, crossing the kitchen and taking Jack from his father, shooting Aaron a knowing glance that said “I’m pretty sure physical therapy didn’t clear you for that. Especially not after last night.”

“I cracked the eggs. There’s no shells in them, Mom.” Jack says, and the world stops. He doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s slipped up, but Aaron and you both freeze, whipping your heads to look at each other with equally bewildered glances.

“I’m sure you did a great job, buddy!” You tell Jack, after a moment that feels like hours, not wanting to ignore him but not quite sure how to address what had happened, and Aaron wasn’t being much help.

“Breakfast is ready,” Aaron says, handing you exactly what you needed-- a bacon and egg sandwich, along with a hashbrown, some fruit, and a big cup of coffee.

“You might be the perfect man.” You tell him gratefully, and he smirks at you as the three of you sit down at the table and eat.

You and Aaron make casual conversation for a little while before Jack poses a question. “Dad, can we take my kite out today?” Jack asks as he spears a sausage link on his fork.

“It’s not really windy enough to fly a kite today, buddy, but we can go for a bike ride or play some soccer if you want,” Aaron responds before taking a sip of coffee.

“And we’ll all go?” Jack asks, looking across the table at you.

“Of course,” you tell him. “We’ll all go to the park with you.”

“Okay. Can I be excused?” He asks, and Aaron nods.

“Go ahead, just make sure you wash your hands and your face. You’ve got syrup everywhere,” He chuckles, and Jack scoots out his chair and leaves the table.

As soon as Jack is out of eyesight, you speak up. “So, are we gonna talk about that, or what?” You say in a hushed tone, not wanting Jack to overhear.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Aaron says.

“Neither did I,” you assure him.

“Are you upset?” Aaron asks, a furrow in his brow that just about broke your heart. Silly, silly man.

“No, of course not. Not if you aren’t.” You assure him.

“I just… he can’t forget Haley. He’s all that is left of her.” Aaron says with a deep sigh, and your eyes well up in tears.

“No, Aaron, he hasn’t and he won’t. We won’t let him.” You say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “And if you don’t want him to call me Mom, I understand.”

“That’s not it. It’s just… bringing a lot up for me, is all.” He says.

“That’s normal, honey. You should think about it for a while, maybe talk about it just with him. No matter what you decide, you’re not going to disappoint me or him. But it’s okay to need some time with this.” You say, standing up to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to the junction of his shoulder and his neck.

“Thank you, for understanding me and for respecting her.” he tells you, raising one hand to cover yours where they met over his heart, craning his neck to leave a kiss on your wrist.

“Baby, have you seen my phone?” You asked, realizing that you haven’t checked it all morning.

“It’s charging next to mine on the bedside table. You were having a little trouble with the charger when we got in last night,” he chuckles at the memory of your drunken antics from the night before.

You go into the other room to grab your phones, noticing that you have two missed calls from Penelope--- you only just missed her. You dial her back as you head back towards the kitchen to help Aaron clean up.

“Where are you right now?” Garcia asks you as soon as the line connects, and your face twists up in confusion as you put your plate in the dishwasher.

“I’m at Aaron’s place, where are you?” You ask, not understanding her line of questioning.

“Is Jack in the room with you?”

“Garcia, what’s going on?” You ask, starting to get nervous. Aaron turns to face you, sensing your anxiety and you place a hand on his forearm for support.

“Last night, when we were all at the bar, a girl was kidnapped, who based on the description, looks a hell of a lot like you. A neighbor saw the guy, and based on the he neighbor’s description--

“It looks like Josh,” you finished Garcia’s sentence, and you felt Aaron tense under your fingers. He puts his palm out, silently asking for your phone, and you pass it to him without even telling Garcia that you were putting him on.

You were scared, terrified even, but you knew that the best thing you could do right then was be a profiler. You left Aaron to settle the details, and went into his bedroom to find something work-appropriate to wear. By the time you came back out, Aaron was off the phone.

“I called the rest of the team in, they’re going to meet us at the office. We’re going to get this loser, and we’re going to get him today,” Aaron lets out, and you nod.

“I’ll take Jack over to Jess’s,” you say, turning back towards Jack’s room, and he stopped you.

“No. You stay with me. Jess is on her way,” Aaron says, and she knocks at the door at the next moment. “I just told her that we got called in,” he tells you as he answers the door.

“Morning, guys,” she says as she steps in, entirely too chipper for the terror that’s rolling through your stomach in waves. “Duty calls, right?” She smiles at you, and you use all the power you have to muster a smile back.

“Yeah, even at the worst times,” you’re impressed that you strung that many words together.

“Any idea when you’ll be back?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“We’ve really got to go,” Aaron says, coming back into the room with Jack, who gives you and his father both hugs before you have to leave. You squeeze him extra tight before Aaron ushers you out of the apartment and towards the car.

“I am not going to let anything happen to you.” Aaron tells you after a few moments of tense, silent driving.

“I know,” you say noncommittally, and it’s back to silence.

“You can’t go in the field.” You both say after a moment.

“Darling, you have to understand--”

“No, Aaron, it’s not even up for debate. You’re out because of your leg, and JJ is pregnant. The team needs me, and I can’t sit this one out because either one of us is emotional about it,” You argue, and Aaron heaves a sigh.

“I wish Elle were here. Josh wouldn’t even still be a problem.” Aaron grumbles out, and despite yourself, you burst out laughing. Aaron’s shocked at first by your reaction, but after a moment, he lets out a laugh, too.

“Aaron, that’s awful. You were upset with Elle for months, even after she left. You’re better than that.” You say, still smiling even though it really wasn’t funny at all.

“Yeah, well, when you hobbled out to my car with a black eye, I think I began to understand Elle a little bit better than I did at the time.” Aaron tells you.

You think of the girl Josh has taken now-- being punished only for the sin of resembling you. No doubt she had her own black eye to match yours, plus god only knows what else at this point, nearly twelve hours after being taken. You swallowed thickly. After a moment, you speak up again.

“You knew that this was going to happen, didn’t you?” You ask quietly-- it’s a genuine question, not an accusation, but it still breaks Aaron’s heart. “That’s why you weren’t excited or relieved like I was when he got arrested.”

“I knew it was a possibility,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to say anything to you, because there was no way to know-- and I didn’t want you to have to keep living in fear,” he explains.

“I’m gonna get this son of a bitch,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Aaron.

The team is already waiting for the two of you in the roundtable room while you arrive, although there’s really no need to brief, so you all launch into a profile while Garcia digs for more information.

“What do we know about the unsub?” Aaron asks the team.

“He’s a power-seeker. He uses physical force as a method of coercion.” Morgan says, and Reid scribbles his statement onto a whiteboard.

“He doesn’t react well when challenged--- his demeanor completely changed when he came here and Hotch went after him.” Emily adds.

“True, but he had no problem going toe-to-toe with Morgan.” JJ contradicts.

“Based on the message he left with the flowers, he’s displaying early indicators of stalking behavior. If that’s escalated far enough, it’s possible that Josh might really believe that the woman that he’s taken is Y/N.” Spencer says, and you nod. For her sake, you hoped not. He had a hell of a lot of pent up anger towards you, and you didn’t want this poor girl to take the brunt of it.

“What’s her name?” You asked, quietly, and with everyone talking over you, you almost think no one hears you, until Aaron leans in a little closer.

“What’s that, darling?” He asks.

“What’s her name?” You say again, and his brow furrows in confusion.

“Who’s name?”

“The girl who’s taking the beating with my name on it right now,” you spit out, and the rest of the team stops talking over you. “The least I can do is learn her name and go talk to her parents.” You say, packing your stuff up.

“Her name is Anna Reardon. We’ll send the address to your phone,” Emily tells you, and you turn on your heel and walk out.

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

Ok, so I know that the Iblis demon was meant as a noodle incident, and that we’re never getting more on it, but still it’s just too interesting to leave it there. We know that all of the Merry Thieves know about it, because it’s become something casual to joke about to them, but can you just imagine any of the parents overhearing and freaking out? And them getting together and getting the story out of the boys (and Anna)!? And what the story actually is?

Anyway, sorry for the mini-rant. I just had to share my feelings with someone who might use them constructively if they are in a benevolent sort of mood and not overworked or overwhelmed.

Hellooo!! First of all, WE STAN THE CHRISTOPHER AND IBLIS DEMON DRAMA! I am so mad we will never get to read about it :(( I usually make reference to it a lot in my rp account (@my-name-is-kit ) and I also wrote a bit about it in a chapter 5 of ‘The Broken Hearts’. because I think it’s so funny. Anyway, I was wondering if this was a fic request, and though I don’t know if you wanted me to write a full-fledged fic, I decided to write a quick little scene for you (also, don’t mind my modern language usage or any mistakes; I’m tired lol):

“We shouldn’t talk about this here; my mother could hear.” Christopher said.

“Cecily is too busy with Alex. Just tell us already.”

“What more is there to tell?”

“Christopher, an Iblis demon has sent you a love letter, you must be aware of how life-changing this moment is.”

“Why is that?”

“Because,” Matthew said, annoyed. “This is your first opportunity to break a heart!”

Kit’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to break anyone’s heart!”

Cecily Lightwood was about to knock on the door to ask the boys if they would like a cup of tea when she heard those words.

Cecily never wanted to pry in her children’s personal lives; she strongly believed they should be allowed to do as they wish (as long as nobody got hurt, of course). However, maybe it was the fact that Kit was having love problems that appalled her to such a magnitude that she could do nothing but be rooted to her spot just outside the door, that stood slightly ajar.

Who was fancying her son and why was he so troubled at having to lead her astray?

“Cecy?” Gabriel whispered, frightening Cecily out of her wits. “What are you—?”

Cecily put a finger to her lips, shushing him, before leading Gabriel away.

“I think somebody is wishing to be courted by Kit.” Cecily said.

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “He’s barely fourteen.”

“Exactly,” Cecily said dismayed. “That’s why I find it so concerning.”

“What should we do?”

Cecily narrowed her eyes.

“We can’t keep eavesdropping." Gabriel said. "That’s an invasion of his privacy.”

Cecily remained silent.

“Cecy?”

“They left the door open.” She pointed out. “Only fools would have a private conversation and be so foolish as to ignore the fact that the door is open. And besides, this is for Kit’s own good.”

“I don’t know, Cecily…”

“Gabriel, you know me. I wouldn’t do this unless I thought something was the matter. It’s not like Kit to worry about these things. Ha, he wouldn’t even realize a girl was fancying him! There’s something about this conversation that bothers me, and I’m not going to just ignore it.”

Gabriel looked at her for a second longer before sighing. “Fine, you win.”

…

“Could we stop talking about this?” Christopher said, uncomfortable with the fact that they were discussing this in his home, where somebody might overhear.

“Actually, this is sort of serious, Kit.” James said. “How many letters have you received already?”

“Three.”

“Three?!” The rest of the Merry Thieves repeated.

“It’s alright, Kit. You just have to tell her—er, it—that you don’t feel the same way.” Thomas said.

“That’s so boring.” Matthew drawled, before facing Christopher. “You must tell it that it could never be, for you were born enemies.”

“Did you think I didn’t tell it that?” Christopher hissed. “It proceeded to write ‘you shall be the Juliet to my Romeo’.”

James furrowed his eyebrows. “Why are you Juliet?”

“I don’t think it reads Shakespeare.” Christopher shrugged.

“Why do they keep calling her ‘it’?” Cecily whispered to Gabriel.

Gabriel shrugged, “maybe it likes it that way?”

“What are you going to do?” James asked.

“I don’t know!” Kit paused before continuing in a lower voice. “It said it was going to kidnap me, and I don’t want to be kidnapped. I like my life here. I don’t want to live in Hell.”

Cecily exchanged a confused glance with Gabriel.

“What the hell?” Gabriel whispered.

“Have you told it about Demon Pox?”

“No! I don’t want to talk to it anymore. I’m hoping it might forget.”

Matthew tsked. “Christopher, that Iblis demon isn’t going to forget about you anytime soon.”

“WHAT?!” Cecily said, bursting into the room.

Kit’s face turned phantom white. “Hi mam.” He whispered, trying to force a wobbly smile.

...

Though this is a fic-let, I’m still going to tag a couple of people who may enjoy it:

@atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @youngreckless @stxr-thxif @autumnangel20 @fictionally-fantastic @no-scones-allowed @julemmaes @itsdaughterofthemoon @forjordelia @aceofjesper @cupcakesandkittens @livvyheronstairs

#christopher lightwood #cecily lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily x gabriel #cecily herondale #james herondale #matthew fairchild #thomas lightwood #tsc fanfiction #tsc fanfic #tlh #the merry thieves

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

Hi there! Your Obi-Wan/Anakin fics, especially your sith Obi-Wan and Pretty Bird, are some of my favorite fics for that ship ever for some of the reasons that were mentioned over the past couple days. Namely I find it refreshing for Obi-Wan to be the one mostly doing the perusing and doing what it takes to be with Anakin. You mentioned you have read some good fics with a similar dynamic that were AU and Cannon. I’m wondering if you have any fic recs??? Even if they are outside of that dynamic I’d love recs but since you mentioned you read a few good ones I thought I would ask 🙂

Hey!!! I am about ten days late, but I'm finally getting around to really answering this. These are fics I can remember off the top of my head where Obi-Wan pursues Anakin/does what it takes to be with Anakin.

There's only 8 here which I'm bitter about because I know I'm forgetting so many good ones I've read and genuinely enjoyed but my AO3 history is literally 640 pages so. So. If anyone has any good recs that fall under this category, please send them in!!

Also if you haven't already read these stories and you like them, remember to leave kudos and comments!!

1. Open Circle (rated M) by Calyss. Oh god, this fic? I absolutely love it and it's on my To Rerereread List immediiately. It features a Sith!Obi-Wan who will stop at nothing to have Anakin by his side again. I love Anakin's POV in this as well, because he swings so believably from wanting to be with Obi-Wan to feeling guilty because clearly everything Obi-Wan is dong is because of the Dark Side and he should try to save him. A scene that still makes me laugh is the scene where Obi-Wan is massaging Anakin's shoulders and Anakin to himself is like, 'wow the Dark Side is getting very inventive/really taking this seduction thing seriously'. Also I do like what the author does with the Jedi Council and Padmé's character, because the main narrators are Obi-Wan and Anakin here, and both are biased to extreme ends which very, very comes through at different parts of the fic. I would say it's not a kind story to the Jedi, the Republic, or Padmé, but it is a great story for obikin if you like reading them just absolutely obsessed with each other.

2. The World Undone (rated M) by lilyconrad. Also on my Rerereread List and has been for weeks now. I am low-key obsessed with this story. It's a Sith!Obi-Wan (again), who pursues and eventually wins over a Jedi Anakin. There's so much intricate plot weaving and world building here that I don't actually want to say anything else in case you haven't read it? But you should. You. Should. Everything about it just pulled me in, and I love Obi-Wan's genuine love and affection for Anakin in this fic. It's also. Not super kind to the Jedi, but it has Ahsoka in it!!! And I love Ahsoka. So.

3. Burning Down The House (rated M) by goretier. This is only about 13k, but I absolutely love what they have so far. If we're talking Canon AUs, I think I love Senator!Obi-Wan almost as much as Sith!Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan here is much more confident in his sexuality (ok he's a bit of a whore) and Anakin is at turns blushing and lustful.

4. Speak Easy (rated E) by @unpheenix. Okay, I am so excited for this fic that I'm including it now. It's got 2 chapters and you better enjoy the hell out of them because they're absolutely amazing. It's a possessive!Obi-Wan, set in a modern AU but historical modern? They're not aliens, they're bootleggers, basically. Anyway. Please. It's great.

5. Negotiation (rated E) by Glare. I am not going to pretend this fic is for everyone, it's definitely not so please decide for yourself because this is definitely dark stuff. It's a modern AU, where Obi-Wan is a serial killer who is obsessed with Anakin and kidnaps him to a cabin in the woods. There's absolutely no rape/non-con, but there's definitely a lot of stockholm syndrome going on, so I really advise looking at the tags and the summary and maybe even scrolling down a bit to see if that's something you're comfy with!

6. Parrots, Parkour, Pirates, Punk, and Perfect Strangers (rated T) by Ghost_Owl. This is a one-shot that's very light-hearted and cute, which means I loved it! I'm not sure how well it fits the theme of this list, except that Obi-Wan decides Anakin is cute enough to try and impress with some casual parkour. Super cute modern AU!

7. My Anankē (rated E) by @intermundia. OOF. I'm including this here because I think it kind of fits, as Obi-Wan in this is very much interested in keeping Anakin with him (in a healthy way, which is a first for this list maybe?). I absolutely love everything in this story and would wait on more with my dying breath of course, but every chapter is pretty stand-alone. It's a modern!AU, with Obi-Wan as a professor and Anakin as a student--but they wait to get together until the very last moment, which is just torture to the audience (me) to read because the author does so well building up the tension and anticipation.

8. to touch the light, darkest (rated E) by @treescape. This series is so new and absolutely amazing and dirty and great. Highly recommended. Definitely mostly porn. Obi-Wan fucks Vader back to the light. Yeah. Yeah. It's great. I think it falls under this category because Obi-Wan is pretty possessive here, even though he is technically Vader's captive. It's just. Damn!!

#asks #i honestly wanted to get 10 or 15 #but im liike maybe a few drinks in #and it's late now #but im always down for fic recs

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dreary-rain · 3 years

Text

The Storm Protects (Ch.1)

Continuation of this post

Venti/Aether

Warnings: angst, violence, injuries (full tags on AO3)

Find the full story here

The sky was cloudless as Aether strolled through Mondstadt, Paimon floating at his side. He stopped by the Adventurer’s Guild and chatted with Katheryne about upcoming commissions. After waving hello to Donna, Aether slipped inside Angel’s Share. It was a bit too early for the regular crowd, but there were a few people scattered around.

“Diluc!” Aether greeted with a smile. The redhead glanced up from where he was cleaning a glass.

“Aether, good to see you. How are you?” Diluc asked and set the glass down.

“No greeting for Paimon?” Paimon asked and crossed her arms. Aether shook his head with a smile and sat down at the bar.

“I didn’t forget about you,” Diluc said with a smile. “How are you, Paimon?”

“Paimon is doing great! But it would be better if you had something to eat.”

“Of course,” Diluc said and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate of food. Paimon’s eyes lit up, and she turned her attention to eating.

“Thank you,” Aether glanced back at Diluc. “I’m feeling better. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“I can imagine. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you. Well, I did have a question and a request, but that can wait.”

“By all means, go ahead. I’ll listen.”

“Well, in that case…” Aether cleared his throat and looked down. “Do you know what happened to… to the… to the Fatui who…”

“Ah, them.” Diluc saved Aether from having to spell it out. Aether had faced a dragon, fought a Harbinger, and fallen from the Jade Chamber, but nothing had brought him closer to death than his slip-up with the Fatui agents. Even now, he had trouble believing he had almost been killed by mere Fatui. But there had been plenty of strange occurrences that day. Battle after battle in a relatively peaceful area in Liyue was rather unusual. It was almost like his day had been planned by someone else so that Aether would be too exhausted to fend off the Fatui.

But why? Aether didn’t want to consider the possibility that not only the attack itself, but the entire day was planned just to kidnap him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware. They were found dead at the Stone Gate.”

“Dead?” Aether looked up in shock. “That’s the first I’ve heard. And right where I was ambushed…”

“Well, it’s been two weeks since it happened, but you were still on bed rest. We didn’t want to alarm you while you were healing.”

“I understand. But who…” Aether stopped. “Diluc, did you—?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Someone got to the bastards before I could,” Diluc said bitterly. “Don’t look so surprised. Half of Mondstadt would kill for you.”

Aether looked down and clasped his hands in his lap. He stole a glance at Paimon, but she was too engrossed in her food to be paying attention. Aether knew what Diluc said was true, but it was still unnerving. Why would they go to such lengths for Aether? He wasn’t from Teyvat. He was an outsider, an outlander, someone who didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve the kindness and protection of so many.

“You don’t need to go to such lengths.”

“There’s no necessity of it. We want to protect you, and anyone who lays a hand on you will suffer.” Diluc rested his palms on the bar and leaned forward. “Let’s say it were Venti who was almost killed. To what lengths would you go to keep him safe and hurt those who dared harm him?”

Unconsciously, Aether tensed. If someone harmed Venti… Aether would kill them. Morals aside, no one would touch Venti and live. In his mind’s eye, Aether saw La Signora plunging her hand into Venti’s chest, stealing his Gnosis and then kicking him aside like trash.

Aether didn’t trust himself to speak, but Diluc saw the murderous expression on his face. If Aether ever saw La Signora again, he would end her with his own two hands.

“Do you understand now?” Diluc asked, and Aether nodded, taking a breath to relax. He was safe, Venti was safe, and La Signora was nowhere near either of them.

Uncurling his hands, he rubbed his palms to soothe the crescents his nails had left. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen.”

“No worries. Now, I hate to cut this short, but business will be picking up soon,” Diluc said with a glance at the door. Aether quickly stood.

“I won’t bother you much longer. But I did have a request. I’d like to purchase a bottle of dandelion wine.”

Diluc raised a brow. “You’re underage.”

Aether resisted the urge to facepalm. If only Diluc knew that he and his twin were older than everyone in Mondstadt combined.

“It’s not for me. I have a guest coming over tonight and I’d like to treat him.”

“That’s what they all say,” Diluc shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips as he opened the cabinet behind him.

“Come on, Paimon. Time to go.” Aether slid enough mora to Diluc and took the bottle of wine. Paimon thanked Diluc for the food, and then they went to leave.

“Say hello to Venti for me,” Diluc said as goodbye. “And tell him to pay his tab or I’ll stop serving him.”

“He’ll weasel free drinks from your patrons if that does occur,” Aether laughed. “But I’ll remind him.”

“Take care, Aether.”

The sun was nearing the horizon as Aether walked home. The shadows were long, but Aether made a point of avoiding them. He always made sure to make it home before dark.

In worlds past, it had always been Lumine who was afraid of the dark. Aether would tease her about it, but he’d always make sure to leave a light on at night. Now, the roles were reversed. Aether couldn’t stand the dark, not without being reminded of his near death experience. He wouldn’t travel at night anymore, making sure to be in a safe place before falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Lumine was at home in the darkness of the Abyss. Aether wondered if she ever thought of him, or if she was so dead set on her goals that he was an afterthought. Would Aether have ever seen her if he hadn’t traveled with Dain? Aether was tempted to track down the Abyss Herald just to see her again. He would brave the terror-inducing energy of the domain housing the inverted statue just to see her again. He would fall into the darkness of the Abyss just to find her again, to beg that she come home with him.

But if their roles were reversed, would Lumine do the same? Aether didn’t want to know the answer. The bitter sadness that was left from her abrupt departure was too much to sort through.

“Aether, cheer up! Paimon knows you’re thinking about your sister again, but it’ll be okay. We’ll find her again, don’t you worry,” Paimon broke Aether out of his thoughts.

“You’re right. It may take some time, but we’ll find her,” Aether said with a small smile. There was no use dwelling on Lumine now, not when Aether needed to get ready for his guest.

Ever since the incident three weeks ago, Aether had been staying in an apartment in Mondstadt. Even though he had his teapot, Aether felt safer in Mondstadt, surrounded by people he loved. He didn’t want to burden anyone by asking them to join him in his teapot realm, but he was too lonely by himself. He couldn’t bear being alone. What if something happened and he was all by himself again?

Diluc had offered Aether his city apartment for as long as he needed to recover, but Aether had initially turned down the offer. It wasn’t until he’d been cooking in his teapot mansion and accidentally cut himself chopping vegetables that he reconsidered the offer. The sudden sting of pain and the blood welling on his fingers had sent Aether into such a panic that Paimon had found him huddled on the ground in the kitchen minutes later. It was at Paimon’s firm suggestion that Aether moved into Diluc’s apartment.

Aether made it to the apartment, walking up the stairs to his door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked. That was cause for alarm. Aether always locked the door when he left.

But he was in the middle of Mondstadt, and it wasn’t even night yet. Besides, there were two others who had keys to the apartment. One being its owner, Diluc, and the other being…

“Ehe, hello Aether. I may have let myself in,” Venti said from beside the stove. He was cooking dinner. Aether heaved a sigh of relief. It was just Venti. While hanging up his cape and scarf, Aether noticed Venti’s hat on the coat rack and his shoes at the base.

“It’s no problem. I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t expecting you this early,” Aether said while pulling his gloves off.

“I know, but I wanted to treat you with dinner tonight. My food is quite tasty when I cook it right.”

“Well, thank you. I brought you dandelion wine. Diluc says hello, but wants you to pay your tab or he’ll cut you off.” Aether placed the wine on the table while Paimon floated over to Venti to help with the food. Well, she probably just wanted to sneak some food from the bard.

“That Mister Diluc always threatens me, but he always serves me reluctantly.” Venti stirred the contents of the pot. “Thank you for the gift. Which reminds me, I brought you something, though it’s a bit makeshift. I’ll bring something adequate next time.”

“Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll appreciate anything you give me. Now, I’ll be back. Don’t burn the house down in the meantime.”

Venti clutched his shirt in mock hurt. “Aether, you wound me.”

Aether just smiled and closed his bedroom door. He summoned his sword and hung it on the wall, then rummaged through his dresser for more casual clothes. When he was done, he joined Venti at the table.

“One Archon special coming right up!” Venti placed a plate full of food in front of Aether and Paimon.

“Is it just Paimon or does this look like a Sweet Madame?”

“Ehe.” Venti rubbed the back of his head and sat across from Aether. “It’s one of the few recipes I can make myself.”

“Well, it’s better than Zhongli. I’m not sure he even knows how to cook rice,” Aether pointed out. “He’ll lecture you all day long on the proper way to prepare rice for different meals, but I bet he wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“He’d be stuck the moment he needs to buy ingredients. That blockhead never changes,” Venti agrees.

“For being the god of Mora, Zhongli never seems to have any. Ironic, isn’t it?” Paimon said, eliciting laughs from Aether and Venti.

“Jokes aside, this tastes really good, Venti,” Aether complimented sincerely.

“Why, thank you. I try.”

Aether washed their plates when they were done. The sun had gone down, the sky painted in shades of red and pink fading into blue.

“Paimon, could you make sure all of the candles are lit?”

“No need to fret. I lit them before we met,” Venti assured while pouring himself wine. “Come sit back down and I’ll give you your gift.”

Aether sat beside Venti, who placed a flower pot on the table.

“Flowers?”

“Dandelions!” Venti said, gesturing to the Anemo-colored puffs. “They grow where there is gentle wind, and in Mondstadt they grow without end. While freedom is our creed, I think these little ones will love it here.”

Aether stared at the dandelions, drawing the clay pot a bit closer to him.

“And, uh, also,” Venti said a bit nervously, “I thought they’d remind you of me, so that even when alone, I’ll be with you in memory.”

It was such a thoughtful gift, given the circumstances, that Aether felt unbearably happy. In lieu of a response, Aether leaned over and hugged Venti.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling as Venti’s arms wrapped snugly around Aether’s waist. After a moment, Aether leaned back, relishing in the way Venti’s hands lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll put them on my bedside table by the window. That way I’ll see the dandelions every time I wake up.”

Aether stood, grabbing the dandelion pot, and gestured for Venti to follow. Paimon stayed in the kitchen, munching on cookies Aether had bought earlier in the day.

After placing the dandelions beside his bed, Aether sat down and pulled the elaborate hair tie off and set it aside.

“Help me with my hair?”

“Of course!” Venti climbed onto the bed behind Aether, crossing his legs and grabbing the end of Aether’s braid. “Do you have a brush?”

“Behind you.”

Venti deftly sifted his fingers through Aether’s long, blond hair, carefully untangling any snarls. Aether swallowed, closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

It was moments like this that reminded Aether of his feelings for Venti. The care and kindness the god gave him made Aether feel special. Out of anyone in the world, Venti chose to spend his time with Aether. Before Aether had arrived in Teyvat, Venti hadn’t stayed in one place for too long. He had gone where the wind wanted to go, but after meeting Aether, the Archon was never out of reach.

“You like that, hmm?” Venti hummed as he combed through Aether’s hair.

“Mmhmm. You’re gentle. Lumine used to braid my hair, but she’d always pull too hard on the tangles.”

“I braid my own hair enough to know how to be gentle,” Venti said softly. Aether couldn’t see him, but he sounded like he was smiling. Fingers ran down the length of his hair. “Your hair is much longer. And softer.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were back there petting my hair,” Aether teased.

“Maybe I am. It’d be a waste not to.”

Aether opened one eye and turned his head slightly to look at Venti. He was surprised to see a serious look on Venti’s face. It was one full of contemplation.

“Venti?”

“Tell me, Aether, what do you think of me?”

Aether considered the question. The obvious answer was that he loved Venti, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if Venti didn’t love him back? It would ruin the friendship they’d built.

Except, when Aether thought about it, Venti didn’t treat Aether like another one of his friends. A mere friend wouldn’t come by Aether’s apartment every night, wouldn’t cook dinner and bring presents for no reason, and wouldn’t help Aether with his hair. An Archon wouldn’t abandon centuries of wandering to stay with Aether unless Aether meant something more to him. Venti hadn’t left his side since the incident with the Fatui, always checking in on him, protecting him.

Suddenly, Aether remembered his conversation with Diluc. The answer was obvious now.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aether mumbled. He looked at Venti, at his gaze so full of love and kindness, and realized he’d been a fool. This whole time, Venti had harbored feelings beyond friendship. Aether had been too oblivious to see it until now.

“Venti, I…” Venti perked up. Aether fought the rising blush. “I love you.”

Venti’s eyes widened, but then his lips curled into a soft smile. Venti leaned forward, eyes flicking down to Aether’s lips. Aether’s face flushed red, but he closed his eyes. Less than a moment later, Venti’s lips met his.

It was a chaste, simple kiss, but it sent tingles down Aether’s spine. Venti brought his hand up to Aether’s cheek, pulling back enough to speak.

“If the kiss didn’t convey the sentiment, I love you, Aether,” Venti said, his breath hot against Aether’s lips. “This is a bit of an awkward position, with you twisting around like that.”

As soon as he’d said it, Venti shuffled around, swinging a leg over Aether’s hips. Venti settled on his knees over Aether’s lap, forcing Aether to tilt his head up to see him.

“That’s better,” Venti said with a satisfied hum, then captured Aether’s lips in another kiss. Venti cupped Aether’s face with his hands, his lips plump against Aether’s. Venti kissed with a passion, fervent and controlled at the same time.

His right hand trailed to the nape of Aether’s neck, then tangled into his hair. With a sharp tug, Venti pulled on Aether’s hair, tilting Aether’s head at an even sharper angle. A soft gasp escaped Aether’s throat, his hands flying to steady himself on Venti’s waist.

“It’s been so long,” Venti murmured against Aether’s skin as he trailed his kisses along Aether’s jaw, “since someone has made me feel this way.”

Venti mouthed over Aether’s exposed neck, tightening the hand in his hair.

“Venti…” Aether breathed as Venti nipped at the base of his throat. His fingers curled around Venti’s waist at the sensation. He vaguely noted how small Venti’s waist was, how well it fit into Aether’s hands.

Venti’s hand fell away from Aether’s face to rest on the topmost button of Aether’s shirt. Quickly, Aether grabbed his wrist.

“Kisses are enough for now,” Aether said breathlessly. He didn’t think he could handle much more. Venti nodded, removing his hand and pressing a kiss to Aether’s cheek.

“We’ll stop here, then.” Venti brushed a strand of hair from Aether’s face. Aether noted smugly that Venti’s lips were red and slick. He looked a mess, but Aether was sure he looked worse.

“I never said no more kisses,” Aether whined as Venti slipped off of his lap.

“I know, but I don’t think it would be easy to stop if we got ourselves too worked up,” Venti explained. “But, I’ll give you all the kisses you want when I visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Aether agreed with a blush and looked down. A finger tilted his chin upward.

“I love you,” Venti said with a wide smile. He giggled, kissing Aether on the forehead before walking to the bedroom door. “I’ve been waiting forever to say that.”

Aether stood to follow, a giddy smile on his own face. Venti loved him. It was as simple as that, and yet it made Aether’s heart swell with joy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aether promised as they walked through the kitchen. Paimon looked up from where she was sitting at the table, taking a break from floating.

She took one look at them before huffing, “Finally. Pining idiots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aether asked incredulously. Paimon just shook her head and took a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie.

“Goodnight, Aether,” Venti said and adjusted his hat after slipping on his shoes. “I love you.”

“You’re going to say that every time you see me, aren’t you?” Aether joked, leaving against the door frame.

“I’m a bard. I’ll come up with poetic ways to express my love once my head clears up.” Venti stood outside on the stairs. “Thank you for tonight. I left the dandelion wine. I’ll drink more next time.”

“See you tomorrow, Venti.”

“Until tomorrow.” Venti started down the stairs, then paused. “Aether, you should wear your hair down more. You look beautiful in a braid, but in the presence of your unbound hair, the beauty of the heavens fades.”

Aether blushed, pressing his lips together in embarrassment. He absentmindedly twirled his hair.

“Too much?” Venti asked sheepishly.

“I’m flattered,” Aether said. “A little embarrassed, but very flattered.”

“Hmm…” Venti‘s eyes flicked up and down Aether, then settled on his eyes. “I’ll have to make a point of flattering you. That blush suits you.”

“Venti,” Aether whined. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll take my leave now before I give you a heart attack.”

“See you!” Aether waved as Venti left. Then he shut the door, locking both of the deadbolts. When he entered the kitchen, Paimon was asleep at the table.

“How does someone who floats and eats all day get tired so easily?” Aether shook his head, then picked Paimon up and laid her down on her bed. She had insisted on having her own bed in the apartment, so Aether had found a child sized bed for her and placed it in the corner of his bedroom.

“Goodnight, Paimon,” Aether said. He fumbled with his shirt, hand pausing on the top button with a blush. All in due time, he thought as he changed into sleep clothes.

Aether climbed into bed, glancing at the dandelions on the bedside, and put his finger to his lips. He could still taste the dandelion wine from Venti’s lips. With a smile, Aether fell into a peaceful sleep.

“Aether!” Paimon’s high pitched scream startled Aether awake. His eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed. It took a moment to gather his bearings, but that was enough time to recognize the danger he was in.

A hulking silhouette stood in the doorway, holding a struggling Paimon by the throat.

“Aether,” she whimpered, and Aether shot forward, reaching for his sword on the wall. He didn’t make it.

The window shattered as a man leapt inside and collided with Aether. He fell backwards from the force, his head slamming against the bedside table. The pot of dandelions toppled over with a crash. Black spots danced across Aether’s vision, but he struggled to his feet.

In such close quarters, using his Palm Vortex wasn’t the best idea, but without a sword it was his only option. Before he could use it, a gust of Anemo snuffed out the candles in the room. In the sudden darkness, Aether could make out the purple glow of the electrohammer vanguard holding Paimon, and the green of the anemoboxer in front of Aether.

Fatui. A spike of fear shot through Aether.

That moment of hesitation was all the anemoboxer needed to rush Aether, knocking him to the ground. A hand pinned him to the ground, wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Aether scrabbled at the hand, kicking to no avail.

With one hand trying to alleviate the pressure on his throat, the other lifted toward the anemoboxer in an attempt to summon his Palm Vortex. Anticipating this, the anemoboxer grabbed Aether’s wrist and twisted.

A sickening crack echoed in the room. Aether screamed and dropped his hand to the side. Despite the pain, he weakly raised his other hand, but the anemoboxer brought something out of his pocket. There was a sharp pinch on Aether’s neck, and he watched as the anemoboxer pulled an empty syringe away.

Aether tried to summon his Anemo, but nothing happened. The hand on his neck was finally gone, but his body felt lethargic. He gasped, coughing from being strangled.

“Aether,” Paimon sobbed.

“Leave the pixie. La Signora just wants the boy,” the anemoboxer told his companion. Aether heard Paimon’s scream followed by a thud. It was quiet.

Aether couldn’t fight the drowsiness forcing his eyes closed. He couldn’t move despite the panic coursing through him at the mention of La Signora. The electrohammer vanguard picked up Aether’s limp body, and he couldn’t fight back.

Aether thought Mondstadt was safe. He caught a glimpse of the soil spilled around the broken pot, the dandelions standing tall despite it.

Aether’s last waking thought was of Venti.

#venti #aether #aether x venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin angst

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kamilah-the-bloodqueen · 3 years

Text

The Cafe Pt.I (Rewritten Barista)

As promised, I’m working through finishing my unfinished series - and that includes the Barista AU I had written long ago. I decided it was best to rewrite it considering the first part was originally published 200+ days ago. I’m aiming for 3 parts for this “one-shot AU” but we’ll see where it goes. Please be patient with me - my academic course load is extremely heavy and finding time to write is difficult but I will finish everything I said I would. I’m actually pretty proud of this but if it flops I never wrote it :)

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy)

Word Count: 4505 words I’m shocked (I usually get to about 1600-2000 words)

Taglist: I’m not tagging anyone until I know people want to be tagged for this because I’m nervous and I hate being annoying!!!! If you want to be tagged for a specific pairing please let me know - I’ll try to keep track and remember to actually tag because I’m a forgetful dumbass!

Amy groggily rolled over in her bed, the amount of sleep she was getting had become oddly suspicious because she would never be able to get up before 7 on her own. She rubbed her face gently, her sheets warm and smooth against her skin. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her eyes widening in shock as she read the time on the screen.

Monday March 30 5:40 am

“Fucking hell I thought I set an alarm!” Amy groaned as she threw the sheets to the side, huffing as she opened the clock app to see, she in fact, did not set an alarm. She sighed, shaking her head as she rushed to the bathroom.

“Damn it Amy...you need this job…”

She texted Zig, a mutual friend of Emily Day who introduced them their freshman year of college at Hartfeld before Amy had transferred to Belviore University in New York. Zig graduated and moved to New York and opened a small cafe, only a few years later.

Zig, I’m going to be late. I missed my alarm this morning. I swear I’ll stay for closing and I won’t be late tomorrow.

LMAO, Amy if you didn’t set an alarm just say that, I had a feeling this would happen so I told you we opened an hour before we actually do. We don’t open until 7 on Mondays, just Tuesdays-Fridays.

I am literally going to murder you 0_0. You should prepare to be launched into outer space for this crime.

Lol I look forward to it - see you at 7.

Amy turned on the shower, as she grabbed a towel and her shower products from the cabinet, placing them beside the shower door. She discarded her clothes, put her shower playlist on, hopped into the shower and felt a wave of relief that she didn’t blow her first day. After Amy had performed her world tour, she stepped out of the shower with a shiver, the cool air a contrast to her very hot skin. She wrapped herself in the fuzzy towel, briefly glancing at the time, 6:02. She walked out of the bathroom, dropping the towel onto the floor as she opened her closet while she scanned her options for a “casual” outfit that would suffice. She put on her favorite bra and underwear, something about the red lingerie made her feel confident, before she slipped into a pair of dark blue denim skinny jeans. She paired the pants with a black t-shirt as she smiled at herself in the mirror.

“Not bad Amy, not bad at all.”

She walked over to her small vanity, one she had built with her father as a teenager over the summer before she left for college. It was one of her most prized possessions, one of the only things she had to remind her of him before he disappeared without a trace. She closed her eyes, recalling the memory fondly before she began to apply a small amount of makeup, just enough to hide her tiredness from the public. She stood from the desk, pleased with her appearance as she made her way to the small apartment kitchen. The empty beer bottles and ps4 controllers cluttered the kitchen as Amy smiled, having remembered celebrating the job with her suitemate Lily. She threw the bottles away and plugged the remotes in for a charge, Lily would thank her for that later. She opened the freezer, making herself two premade waffles as she checked her social media. It might have partially been the exhaustion but those waffles were the best Amy ever had, she wiped her mouth clean and grabbed her bag from the nearby chair. She shot a brief text to Lily, to let her know she hadn’t been kidnapped.

Morning Lily! I went to the cafe for work, just so you don’t end up thinking I got myself kidnapped. Love you, see you tonight! Try not to drink all of the alcohol.

Amy followed Zig’s text directions through the streets of the city, the bustle of traffic, the mass of pedestrians and the loud construction noises distracting Amy from her path. Amy had never really been in New York’s financial district before, the other civilians' appearances shifting from “Naked Cowboy of Times Square” to “Businessman” only a few streets apart. She glanced at her phone as it instructed her to take a right.

“Oof-”

Amy jolted at the scalding hot coffee that was hot on her skin, her head turning to meet a woman’s irritated gaze, taking note of the coffee cup that was in her hands. She was dressed like all the other businessmen and women who passed by - her maroon suit now covered in coffee as she huffed in annoyance. Amy met her deep brown eyes that burned right through her, her whole body freezing up as she watched the woman’s lips move. Amy stood in a daze, only coming back to herself when the woman waved her hand in front of her, her face filled with exasperation.

“I’m so sorry. It’s my first day and I’m kind of lost-”

“Watch where you’re going, this suit is probably worth more than you.” Her voice was silky and satisfying, and oddly soothing given the fact she had probably just stained a $2,000 suit. Amy rushed to open her wallet, holding out a wet 50$ to the woman. The business woman scoffed as she walked away, leaving Amy in a confused state outside of the cafe.

“Fuck.” Amy sighed, moving to collect her bag as she walked through the cafe door, Zig raised his eyebrows at her as she made her way behind the counter.

“Well that’s a look.” He jested, Amy turning her head and giving him a death glare as he tossed an apron to her. “Nobody will notice, you can cover it with this. There’s paper towels in the back.” Amy dropped her bag in the break room, gently wiping the coffee away and putting the surprisingly fashionable apron on. When she walked out from the back her jaw dropped as she spotted the woman from earlier standing on the other side of the counter. Their eyes met and the woman’s gaze quickly changed from annoyed to very annoyed at the sight of Amy.

“Kamilah, you’re back. Wanted to pick up some date-nut pinwheels?”

“No, I need another black coffee.” She turned back to Zig with a smile, he gave a small nod as Amy began to brew the coffee for her. She placed the lid carefully onto the fresh cup and handed it out to the woman, their fingers brushing for a moment, a blush creeping onto Amy’s cheeks.

“Thank you.” Her tone was less aggressive than it had been in their first encounter, Amy finally calm enough to take note of the woman’s features. Her brown silky hair that looked like it belonged in a conditioner commercial, her defined jawline and subtle eyeshadow that accentuated her eyes. She watched the way her lips moved as she talked to Zig, Amy feeling her heart jump at the sound of her laugh - light and golden. Amy watched her leave, every step she took she took with such confidence that Amy found herself wanting to follow her out the door.

“You could be less obvious, you know?” Zig playfully nudged Amy, nearly knocking her over as she shook her head in denial.

“No! I wasn’t!” Amy sighed as she rubbed her temples, Zig’s infectious laugh filling the empty cafe. Amy playfully punched his shoulder as a group of well dressed men stepped through the threshold, Amy moving behind the register to take their orders. The day passed, Amy learning how oddly specific some people like their coffee, and learning all of Zig’s secrets to the perfect iced coffee. Amy looked at the clock as Zig walked to lock the front door - finally closing time.

“Some of these orders...like ‘I’ll have the grande iced mocha no foam soy hexagon vortex hypotenuse’” Amy waved her hands around as Zig tried to contain a laugh, wiping down the counter as Amy hung her apron up.

“Amy you’re horrible.” Zig made a good attempt at seriousness, their eyes meeting before they continued to laugh which made closing pass by much faster. Zig grabbed the mass of leftover desserts from their respective containers, hovering them over the garbage before Amy stopped him.

“Oh, did you want these?”

“No, but I can find a better place for them than the trash.”

“Where? Your stomach?”

“No, the food bank is on the route back to my apartment. We shouldn’t be wasteful, and besides - who wouldn’t love a raspberry crown?”

“You’ve got a point. I’ll bag these for you then, if you could sweep the floor and put the chairs on the tables that’d be great.”

When all the cleaning and closing procedures were done Amy headed for the door with her bag in hand, Zig gently tapping her shoulder and holding out an envelope, a key to the cafe and the bag of desserts.

“Okay so I know what’s in here but what is this? A resignation letter?” Amy pouted her bottom lip as Zig rolled his eyes so far back Amy wasn’t sure if they’d come back.

“It’s your share of the tips from today, and the wrapped pastries. Thanks for that suggestion by the way, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself.” Zig rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around the pristine cafe, the windows reflecting the moonlight and the tile shimmering as if it were just installed. “Bloody hell, the place looks good...no great. Thank you Amy. Come on let's get outta here, go home - I’ll see you tomorrow at 6. Actually, let me make sure you set 3 different alarms, give me your phone.” Zig held out his hand after he locked the front door, Amy reluctantly handing her iphone over as he set 3 different alarms, all 5 minutes apart. He looked up at her for a moment, smirking before handing her phone back to her and walking off into the city. Amy rolled her eyes, he probably took a selfie on her camera but when she went to check, there was nothing but memes and occasional group photos -what did Zig smirk at then? Amy was too tired to think of it, she made a swift beeline to the food bank, opening the doors and dropping the brown bag of desserts off before making her trip back to the apartment.

The door opened with a creak, all of the lights turned off as Amy carefully navigated to her room. She switched her lamp on, letting it provide a dim light that didn’t blind Amy because of its intensity. She tossed her bag onto the bed, as she pulled her shirt over her head in one rapid motion. She desperately stripped, throwing her dirty clothes into the laundry basket as she changed into clean lingerie. She slipped into her favorite pair of pajama shorts and pulling her favorite hoodie over her bra - shirts were overrated anyways. Amy crawled onto her bed, crossing her legs while she put her headphones on, pulling up her favorite late-night playlist and letting the slowed music soothe her. She caught a glance at the envelope Zig had given her, she reached over for it and opened it carefully - baffled at the amount of cash laying inside. She slowly laid each bill out, counting the total twice to make sure she hadn’t miscalculated. Working at a cafe in New York’s financial district was definitely going to help her and Lily catch up on their rent and not get evicted. She smiled, tucking away 25% for herself, taking enough for her share of the rent and putting the rest into her locked safe - she’d been saving for a trip to Hawaii since she graduated. She stifled a yawn, closing the safe and tucking herself back into her warm sheets, taking her headphones off and closing her eyes for the night.

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The alarm woke Amy up with it’s loud and very obnoxious beeping, Amy wanting nothing more than to throw the phone into the thermosphere. She drowsily stood from her bed, gently tucking the sheets neatly back into place as she turned off the following alarms. She sighed, rubbing her head as she changed into a simple outfit and left out the door to the cafe.

Amy arrived at the cafe, unlocked the front door and turned the lights on, relocking the door behind her because she didn’t need anyone startling her. She moved behind the counter, dropping her bag in the lounge and putting an apron on. She checked the coffee filters, gave the blenders a good washing, set out creamer, sugar and other coffee essentials on the counter and filled supplies back up. Zig suddenly walked through the door, a smile on his face as Amy finished supplying the countertop and putting the pastries out on display, letting Zig prepare himself for opening.

“You’re early. I’m shocked. College Amy is having a stroke right now.” Amy knocked him in the side, Zig falling back a few steps as he shook his head and put his hands in the air in surrender. “Alright alright no need for violence, come on, let’s open.” Zig turned the “open” sign on and only a minute later did Kamilah appear in the cafe, her suit perfectly fitted, her hair smoothly cascading around her head and down her shoulders and her face relaxed and composed.

“Good morning Kamilah, what can I get for you?” Zig gestured to the display of desserts and the variety of coffee combinations on the menu above their heads. Kamilah smiling as Zig waved his hands back and forth, Kamilah letting out a soft chuckle.

“Just a large black coffee and maybe a date-nut pinwheel.” Kamilah spoke to Zig in almost a tender way, as if they were siblings or long-term friends. Amy selected a pinwheel, gently placing it into a small bag and sliding it over the counter towards Kamilah as she began to brew the coffee.

“How’s Ahmanet Financial?” Zig leaned over the counter, his defined arms nearly breaking through the sleeves of his white shirt. Kamilah tucked the pinwheel bag into a hidden pocket on the inside of her blazer before she turned back to face Zig.

“It’s very successful, our stocks are soaring and we just secured a new business partner.” Kamilah looked proud and for good reason - Ahmanet financial was one of the most powerful corporations out there. Amy topped her coffee off with a lid and handed it to her, their eyes meeting for a moment before Amy turned away, feeling her cheeks turning hot. Kamilah checked her watch, a movado 47 rose gold watch that cost way more than anything Amy had ever come close to owning. “Zig I’d love to chat some other day but I’m afraid I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”

She quickly made her way out the door, the bell ringing softly as Kamilah strided away. Amy leaned over the counter with a sigh, Zig nudging her softly.

“You could be less obvious Amy,” his annoying face smirking at Amy as she rolled her eyes, “you used to be so slick back in college.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Amy threw an empty coffee cup at him as a blonde girl walked into the cafe, her eyes glued to her phone as she recited her order at a rate that nobody could understand. Amy sighed, Zig giving her a pained glance as she went to mix the complicated coffee order. Amy fought back a laugh as Zig found a way to run away to the back when the girl asked for his phone number. Once Amy finished mixing her coffee and sent her out the cafe doors Zig poked his head out of the lounge - his eyes scanning for her.

“Is she gone?” Amy snorted as Zig stepped out from the doorway, his hands running through his hair as he let his shoulders relax. “My god I hate teenagers - they turn eighteen and all of a sudden think they can fuck anyone. I’m like 5 years older than her at least!”

“Relax buddy, let’s just get through the rest of the day. I’ll handle all the teenage brats and you can handle all the nasty men.” Amy gave him a cheeky grin as they teamwork-ed their way through the rest of the day.

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“Finally.” Amy rested the broom on the wall, taking in the pristine cafe as Zig finished wiping down the counters. “What a day.”

“Thank god it’s over.”

“Zig?”

“Yeah?”

“Does Kamilah always come by the cafe right when we open?”

Zig perked his head up, his brows raised to the top of his head as Amy felt a blush creep up her cheeks, her hands growing sweaty as Zig remained silent.

“She always comes as soon as we open, she has to be at work early since she is the CEO. Although she never rests, despite everything I’ve told her.” Zig’s head shot to his phone as it buzzed, a text from Emily appearing on the screen and Zig hastily typed away.

“Everything okay Zig?” Amy had a worried expression on her face as Zig let out a long sigh.

“There’s a road trip for Kaitlyn’s band that leaves in two days that lasts for a week that our group is going on and I can’t go because I need to run the cafe-”

“I can handle it for a week.” Amy spoke firmly, Zig’s eyes widening before he let out a chuckle.

“What if you burn it down?”

“I won’t but then I guess you just have to trust me. Come on Zig - you need a break and you damn well know it. Get out of here for a week.”

“I hate that you’re right. Fine, but if the cafe isn’t standing when I get back, you’re toast.” They both laughed and finished up closing.

Amy walked towards the food bank, a brisk breeze prompting her to make it one speedy trip so she could bask in her heated apartment. A shriek came from the alley as Amy turned her gaze to see where the yell had come from, a red pair of eyes looking right at her in the darkness. She felt her heart beating out of her chest as she forced her feet to a run, her heart pounding like a drum and ringing in her ears as she huffed through the front doors of the bank - placing the bag on the counter and racing back to her apartment without turning back.

“Hey girl how was-” Lily sat on the couch with a coke in her hand and the television remote in the other, her smile fading as she met Amy’s eyes. “Amy, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…”

“I think I’m just hallucinating from exhaustion,” Amy dropped her bag on the floor and took a seat on the couch beside Lily, “anyways tell me about you. We haven’t really had time since we both started working more.”

“Well you should sleep soon but I think we’ll be able to hold the rent for the next few months - with all the money you’re bringing in now in addition to the money my app has started to bring in - I think we’ll be more than fine.” Lily nudged her shoulder, offering Amy a can of coke with a smile as The Vampire Diaries played on the TV.

“Vampires are so overrated.” Amy groaned as she watched Lily’s eyes become glued to the screen.

“Some of us have taste you know.”

“No, it’s because they’re not real Lily, and the fact that no vampire would ever be attracted to me.”

Lily rolled her eyes as Amy sipped on her coke, both of them laughing late into the night and being good friends in what had felt like a long time.

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Amy unlocked the cafe doors and shuffled inside, locking the door behind her and leaving her bag on the counter. She hit the light switch as the lights slowly came flickering on as she tied the apron around the back of her neck. She quickly started and finished the morning set-up, the routine becoming second nature since Amy had always been a fast learner. She checked her phone, 6:49 am April 1, 2020.

“April fools day.” Amy smiled as she contemplated setting up a whipped cream prank on Zig, but decided not to against her deepest desire to see his shocked face. While thinking of ways to mess with Zig through the day, her mind came to test a theory - she began preparing two black coffees - before adding her own twists to one of them. Amy finished and admired her handiwork - the cups looked identical and Kamilah wouldn’t notice until she tasted it.

Kamilah walked in, her eyes scanning the cafe for Zig as she took a cautious step towards Amy who had a cute little grin on her face.

“Good morning Kamilah, here’s your coffee.” Amy handed her a black coffee, the one she had adjusted ever so slightly. She watched as Kamilah brought the cup to her lips, almost taking a sip, before she lowered the cup and leaned her face closer to Amy.

“What did you do to it? It smells different, and where’s Zig?” Kamilah arched a brow as Amy silently wondered how Kamilah could smell the difference.

“I took a twist with it, I made you your regular too in case you hate it...I just thought you should broaden your horizons…and Zig is coming. He just needs to pack, he’ll be gone after today for a week and I’ll be running the cafe.” Amy smiled softly at the woman who was now leaning dangerously close.

“I see. And if I hate it?”

“Then I’ll pay for both and I’ll never try to broaden your horizons again…” Amy frowned slightly as Kamilah finally sipped on the drink - her brown eyes widening as she took another, and another.

“It’s...actually pretty good...what did you do to it?” Kamilah took another sip as Amy bounced on her heels, a wide childish grin written across her face.

“I added a bit of cream and sugar and a bit of caramel! It’s how I like mine!” Amy took her hands behind her back and fiddled with them nervously as Kamilah smiled. Zig walked in just as the clock read 8:05 am and Kamilah left, turning at the door to smile at Amy one last time, lifting the cup up with a smile before entering her car.

“What’s that smile about Amy?” Zig wagged his fingers at Amy with a classic smirk as he prepared for the shift, Amy resting her head on both of her hands while she leaned over the counter - her legs kicking out behind her.

“Nothing.” Amy sighed and went back to brewing coffee, her hands aimlessly performing while her mind sat on nothing but the thought of Kamilah - and her damned perfect smile.

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

Amy tossed her shoes off as she made her way through the apartment door, one shoe nearly knocking Lily’s head off as she pulled freshly fried chicken from the air fryer.

“Lily that smells AMAZING!” Amy squealed and made her way over to her, Lily slapping her hand away as she finished the two plates of waffles off with a chicken breast and syrup. “I swear I’ve got the best best friend…” Lily smiled as they both dug into the food, chatting away about their day until Amy let it slip out.

“And there’s this really hot customer-”

“Oh! Spill!” Lily wiggled in her seat like a child, eagerly waiting for Amy to elaborate as Amy stuffed her face with the rest of her waffles. “I’ll wait for you to finish.” Lily smirked and held Amy in an uncomfortable eye contact until Amy finally caved in.

“She comes in at opening time every single day, and always orders a black coffee. Although I got her to try something new today which I’m really proud of.” The subtle smile that crept up Amy’s face gave it all away to Lily as she let her ramble on, whilst she gave Amy the smirk she hated. “I’m simping aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing wrong with simping. But you have a chance here because Zig won’t be there so you can actually like...take your shot without him ever having to know,” Lily winked and whispered, “and you could totally fuck her in the back-”

“NOPE!” Amy stood up frantically, Lily holding her sides for support and nearly falling out of her chair as Amy rushed to clear her plate. “I hate you! Ohmygoddddddd.” Amy groaned as Lily fell to the floor, her eyes wet with tears at Amy’s reaction more than anything else.

“I’m going to bed!!”

“Goodnight! Love you Ames!!!”

“Love you too….annoying ass!”

Amy snorted as she changed into her sleepwear, her body becoming exhausted as she hit the mattress, falling asleep ridiculously fast.

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

Kamilah came through the door, right on time as Amy had come to expect. Amy gazed up from her phone, those dark brown eyes looking right at her as she handed Kamilah her usual black coffee, Kamilah holding it closely before clearing her throat.

“Can I have the one from yesterday as well?” Amy smiled at her as she began to mix her favorite coffee - Kamilah leaning over the counter to observe.

“I didn’t think you’d want it again.” Amy said as she added creamer to the mix, the coffee turning golden as she mixed it.

“A woman can’t appreciate a little variety in her life?” Kamilah leaned against the counter, her hair smoothly gliding over her maroon blazer as she tossed it back - taking a sip from her cup.

“No I just-” Amy topped the cup off with a bit of caramel before enclosing it with the lid, her hands sweaty as she handed it to Kamilah.

“You just?”

“Thought you’d always like your coffee like your personality.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

The way Kamilah was looking at Amy, she knew she had to choose her next words carefully.

“Dark, intimidating, a bit bitter at first sip,” Amy hesitated as Kamilah raised a brow, “an...acquired taste.”

“You’re intimidated by me?”

“Just a little…”

“Hmm, I suppose your coffee is like you if you want to expand your little analogy.” Kamilah glanced at her watch, her expression shifting from playful to work-oriented. Amy felt her heart drop a little as she recomposed herself - back to her refined and disciplined self. Kamilah made her way to the door, the two cups of coffee in her hands as she paused, turning back and looking at Amy - something different about it.

“It’s...sweet and comforting,” her voice was soft as she spoke, Amy’s cheeks turning very red, “like you.”

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #mc x kamilah #kamilah the bloodqueen post #bloodbound #bloodbound AU #um so I have a love-hate relationship with this fic #but i am proud of it in it's ways #okay i've been deflecting i need to go do calculus homework and lecture videos

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verobatto · 3 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CIII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Two Worlds. Two Hearts. (Part. II)

(13x17/13x18/13x19)

Hello again! Second part of this huge preamble to 15x18!

We'll be talking here about episode 13x18, 'Bring them back Alive' it's a huge reflection of Dean's inner fears and also we will find a lot of Destiel parallels and mirrors.

Redemption Arcs

Ketch is here, in this episode, trying to redeem himself.

KETCH: ...the rift closes.

DEAN: Look, we just got spin-cycled through space and time, okay? And yes, this is... different than my last drop-by. And what's this “we” crap, hmm? You came here to save yourself, so... go save yourself, somewhere else.

We don't forget Ketch tried to kill him and kidnapped his mother. So, Dean rejects him in everyway.

Ketch and Dean share the same amount of Guilt, tho, so, we can see them as reflections of each other. But Ketch is the murderer, the one Dean doesn't wanna be. So, Ketch reflects on him all the bad things Dean sees in himself.

And, it's not casual that we see AUCharlie in this episode. Charlie is one of the biggest GUILTS Dean feels in his heart. So, Dean changes the plan once he sees Charlie in danger. It's like a second opportunity to save her.

DEAN: No, I prefer the "let's find Charlie before the angels turn her inside-out' technique.

KETCH: Remind me again why we're risking everything to find this girl?

DEAN: Because she's seen my mom. She's seen Jack. We need her.

KETCH: And you're sure that's what this is about? You're sure it's not... personal?

Of course it's personal! Dean needs to save Charlie this time!

Another interesting quote, and very meaningful for us, Drstiel shippers, was Dean saying to Ketch that 'he wasn't his type either' once Ketch observes he was looking bad, as a nice parallel to that scene in season 10x03 in which Dean compliments Castiel's looks.

Gifset credit @inacatastrophicmind

But, moving on from this cute Drstiel detail, we have Dean with a mortal wound on his shoulder (also foreshadow of Sam's wound in season 15 that will connect him with Chuck), the important symbolism in this scene is Ketch healing Dean. If Ketchs represents Dean trying to redeem himself, this scene is plenty meaningful for all the path Dean will walk in season 14, self knowledge and healing with self acceptance.

The Connection

And Cas gets mad and jealous, of course. He can't understand why Dean rushed things. He doesn't know Dean won't allow him to put his life in danger in this AU as he did at the end of season 12.

Gif set credit @timetraveldean

But, let's talk about connections...

Asmodeus proclaiming his connection with Gabe through the grace he consumes from him.

This connection can be related to AU!Michael and Dean, but also like the antithesis to Destiel.

Paying attention to this piece of dialogue, we will find the similitude with AU!Michael possessing Dean...

ASMODEUS: Gabriel! What are you doin', son? You know too well what I can do to you. I broke you!

As a premonition of Dean breaking free and healing from his emotional prison in 15x10, we have this quote. 'I broke you' that's what Michael tried to do when he released Dean in episode 14x03 and brought him back to his family. That was his plan to break him, but, even so, Dean was able to break free and lock him Michael down in his own mind.

Another interesting foreshadow related to Rocky's Bar (Dean's emotional prison) was Sam's speech to Gabe.

SAM: Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside. No more torture. No more pain. No more expectations. I've been there.

Gabe is also locked in his own mind, his own emotional prison. So these words are applying too to Sam (family love) and Castiel (romantic love) trying to make Dean see the reality.

SAM: You were nothing like your family. You sure as hell weren't like your dad. Me either. And just like you, I got out. Or I-I thought I got out. But then... then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. And sure, yeah, hookers in Monte Carlo sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you. The world needs you. We need you. [pleading] Gabriel, I need you. So, please, help us.

This speech is a mix of Sam and CAS talking with Dean inside his mind in the Rocky's bar as I said, and it's the key to release him. The 'family needs you' quote it's pivotal to open Dean's eyes.

To Conclude:

As Cas will face his own dark AUCastiel, Dean faces Ketch as a reflection of his guilt and self esteem in the AU world.

Gabe's breaking free from Asmodeus is foreshadowing Dean breaking free from his emotional prison in season 14.

Hope you like this meta. See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 13 here you have the links:

Vol. XCIII, XCIV, XCV, XCVI, XCVII, XCVIII, XCIX, C, CI, CII.

Buenos Aires, March 14th 2021 1:05 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 13 meta #13x18 meta #vol CIII

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ladyblogger-margie · 3 years

Text

The Sins You Can’t Outrun - Chapter 1

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x Santiago “Pope” Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Summary: When Will’s boyfriend Pope is kidnapped, Will must do the unthinkable to get him back. This is part 1 of a series.

Word Count: 1347

Warnings: 18+ for violence/gore, (the series will eventually involved smut but not in this chapter)

a/n: This started as a prompt for Writer Wednesday organized by @autumnleaves1991-blog , (original post here) and I’m going to continue it as a series! Series details to come once I get that organized.

MY MASTERLIST

When Pope promised Will he would start taking work closer to home, taking on the domestic drug trade was not exactly what Ironhead had in mind.

But technically it did get Pope home by dinner, most nights at least, and he rarely was away for more than three days at a time, so Will worried silently and didn’t press the subject. He just continued with his routine, and worked on building a home for his former friend turned current boyfriend.

Will was just so happy that the two had finally gotten together after years of secret hookups filled with shame and embarrassment and secrecy. Coming home from South America with no money and a dead friend had shifted their perspectives. Just grateful that they were both alive had opened the door for them to finally be something more.

When Will returned, alone, he thought about when Pope had come to him with the proposition of the doomed mission in the first place. He thought about why he had said yes. Well technically he never did actually say yes, did he? No, he told Pope to talk to Tom. Will felt it was his fault that Tom was dead.

It was Will’s fault because he got Tom involved. He thought he needed Tom’s perspective because he knew that around Pope, Will had no objectivity. Pope was like a blinding sun to him, alluring, attractive, blinding. Will knew he was going to follow Pope anywhere, would always follow Pope anywhere.

Having survived the ordeal, Will thought it was a good a time as any to gain a little perspective for himself. Sure Pope was still the blinding sun, but Will didn’t mind. The sun was always warm, and leading, and strong. Will could use a little bit of sunshine.

So when Pope came home eventually, Will marched right over to his place and put everything out on the table, and asked Pope to be his boyfriend. Three days, and many, many hours of passion later, Will walked out sun-kissed and in a relationship.

The location of the money they threw off the mountain remained unspoken knowledge between the pair since they had gotten together. Will regretted telling Pope the coordinates, and he was afraid if he brought them up again it would drive Pope either to go collect.

He was also worried Pope was waiting for Will to bring up the location first and treat the conversation like permission. Will didn’t want him to go after it, so he just kept his mouth shut.

But Will should have known Pope better by now, and he knows he shouldn’t have been so naïve.

The first package arrived minutes before the first phone call. Will was coming back from a late night training session with Benny and was expecting the knock on the door to come from Pope for a late night booty call.

Instead it was a bike messenger with a small box looking for Will’s signature. Will thought it was late for a delivery, but he didn’t question it.

Will signed and closed the door, stepping into the front hall where he stood to open the package. He should have sat down first.

He opened the package and found a bloody polaroid of a well-beaten Santiago Garcia. He stumbled back, bumping into the wall behind him and sliding to the floor. He looked through the box, flicking through other polaroid's of different angles of Pope’s face beaten, his hands tied, his shirt ripped with gashes on his back. The sight was sickening, but the polaroid's weren’t the only things sent to him. Also in the box were ten fingernails. The blood was sticky and not fully dry yet so Will knew they were fresh and he prayed that that meant Pope actually was still alive.

Then the home phone rang and Will lunged at it.

“Pope,” his voice was desperate, but rationally he knew it wasn’t Pope on the other end.

“The abandoned gas station on route 12. Answer the payphone in 15 minutes, alone, or we send you a bigger piece of your boyfriend,” a gravelly voice on the other end commanded Will.

“Let me talk to him,” Will commanded right back, “I need proof he’s still alive.”

Will heard the phone shuffle on the other side, then Pope’s voice came through the other end, pained and muffled.

“Will,” was the only thing Pope said before the line went dead.

Will looked at the watch on his wrist and it read 11:42. Then he rushed to the lock box in his closet and pulled out his gun, tucking it into the back of his pants before he put on a baseball hat and heavy coat to combat the heavy mist that had fallen in the night.

He jumped in his truck and sped off, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He thought tactfully as he drove, racing through the mist covered town. The clock on his dashboard read ‘11:48’ ; it was nearly Friday already.

There was no way to know exactly how long these guys have had Pope captive, but Will was fairly certain it had to have happened either when Pope was on his way home from work, at his house, or sometime on his way to Will’s - sometimes Pope was already in bed waiting for Will to come home from training. So Will figured they’ve had Pope about 7 hours at most.

Clearly this wasn’t an assassination attempt against Pope, it was more personal than that. Then there was the fact that Will had been the one to receive the box and the instructions, so it definitely was personal - if it was professional it’s likely the box would have been sent to Pope’s job.

Will sped through town, leaning on his instincts to guide him, his attention completely on what he was going to do about Pope.

He thought about calling Benny and Frankie, but decided to wait. He was fairly confident that Pope wasn’t at the abandoned gas station, but he was sure these guys would have eyes on the site. If he showed up with backup, he’d be putting Pope at risk.

They told him to answer the phone. They probably wanted to negotiate at a location where Will couldn’t possibly trace the source even if he did have that ability. They just wanted to scare him in an effort to increase their sense of power.

Will was determined not to give them the satisfaction. Sure his whole body was trembling at the idea of Pope hurt like that, and all alone. He was in love with him and he hadn’t even told him yet. He was absolutely terrified, but he was going to do whatever possible to ensure he had the chance to say those special three words to Pope when they were both home safely.

Will screeched to a stop in front of the phone booth at 11:56, one minute to spare. He stood still in front of the payphone and took stock of his surroundings. He seemed to be alone, there were very little sounds around him, certainly nothing like footsteps in the trees, or an approaching car. If someone was there, they posed him no threat - at least not before the phone call.

Then the phone rang and Will answered immediately.

“Punctual, good,” the voice on the other end of the phone mocked Will.

Will gripped the phone tightly in his hands, “Where’s Santiago Garcia?”

“He’s here, he’ll survive,” the voice said casually, “Or at least, he will if you return what you’ve taken.”

Will’s stomach turned, Lorea, but he was dead, wasn’t he?

“Lorea?” Will breathed into the phone.

“He’s dead, you and your goons took care of that,” the voice responded with malice, “But that didn’t give you any claim to what you stole, and we want it back.”

Will shook his head, “That’s impossible. We don’t have it. We left it behind in South America.”

“Then you better go get it,” the voice demanded, “I expect it hand delivered in 6 days.”

“Delivered where?” Will asked.

“I’ll be in touch. Oh, and if you include the authorities in any way, I’ll mail you the pieces of him one by one and you’ll never be able to put him back together. If you don’t deliver the money, Garcia dies,” the voice finished and the line cut off.

Will hung up the phone and rescanned the area. He was still alone, but he couldn’t shake that feeling he was being watched.

Pope was alive, but he had to go get that money he had been trying desperately to forget. If he didn’t Pope was dead.

He had to call Benny and Frankie and ask them for a cursed favor.

To be continued...

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog

#triple frontier #oscaar isaac #charlie hunnam #will miller x santiago garcia #will Ironhead miller x santiago Pope garcia #will ironhead miller #santiago pope garcia #writer wednesday

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