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ma1dita · 2 months

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love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air.

You let him leave.

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal.

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight.

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real.

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities.

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love.

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?”

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up.

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this.

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.”

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way.

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!”

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to.

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.”

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair.

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.”

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet. The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away.

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke.

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.”

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity. I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm.

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly.

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him.

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you.

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat.

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.”

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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ynscrazylife · 6 months

Text

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

#bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne angst #bruce x you #bruce x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #batfamily x reader #dc batman #batman fic #batman fluff #batmom #batmobile #avengers x reader #mcu avengers #dc marvel crossover

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norrizzandpia · 7 months

Text

Grow As We Go (Hurt Me Once Part 2) (OP81)

Summary: Maybe they didn’t miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope?

Warnings: angst, but a happy ending 🤭🤭

Note: Awww i loved this little series also SIDE NOTE just to point it out Hurt Me Once was Y/n speaking to Oscar but this song Grow As We Go is Oscar speaking to Y/n 🧡🧡

You say there’s so much you don’t know. You need to go and find yourself. You say you’d rather be alone cause you think you won’t find it tied to someone else. Oh, who said it’s true that the growing only happens on your own? They don’t know me and you.

His footsteps stayed frozen outside his front door, a sunken feeling in his stomach. He didn’t even know how he got home, disassociating during the drive after Y/n slammed the door on his face. Oscar knew he had to be feeling the worst kinds of sadness, but, as his eyes stayed on the door in front of him, he felt nothing.

Y/n was gone. He tried to get that through his head, but it still seemed outrageous because that was never supposed to happen for them in his mind. They were supposed to be with each other, be together, grow with the other throughout the entirety of their lives. They were Y/n and Oscar. No one knew them like he did, no one understood them like he did.

Or so he thought.

Conflicting, self-deprecating thoughts rushed in his mind as his hand smacked against the wood, trying to gain balance as he got lost in himself.

A creak was heard before his body was flying forward, losing the balance he had been trying to maintain. He stumbled forward, almost falling face down onto his family’s wood flooring whilst his mother yelped out at the sudden movement.

Once settled, and that means Oscar was leaning against the wall looking disheveled and defeated, his mother came up to bring his face in her hands.

“Osc? What happened?” She said in a worried tone, although she had an inkling as to why her son couldn’t even look her in the eye.

With his gaze trained on the floor, he whispered, “She shut the door on me, mom. She left me.”

Nicole had been mad at him, sure, but the sight of his darkened eyes and trembling lips had her maternal side overcoming the bitter one. Sweeping him in her arms, she gently shushed him as he began to choke up and cry.

“It was my fault. This was my fault. I could’ve stopped it. If I would’ve just told her how much I loved her, she would be happy. I would be happy. We would be happy.” He rambled, short inhales of breath at random times as he tried to sort through his pain.

Nicole nodded her head in understanding, “I know, Osc. I know, but you can’t beat yourself up over this. There’s no point.”

He pulled away to look into her eyes, the sight of his bloodshot ones making Nicole wince, “But, there is a point! It’s her! It’s Y/n! Of course, there’s a point because I love her!”

He shoved his head in his hands as his mother put a hand on his arm, the voices in his head quieting as he spoke softly, “Why couldn’t she just grow next to me? Why does she think being alone is what’s holding her back from changing?”

Nicole shook her head, “I don’t know, Osc, but this might just be what she thinks is best for her right now. You need to respect that.”

“Of course, I will, but it still hurts to know that she thinks I’m holding her back.”

As he began to make his way toward the stairs, Nicole bit on her lip as she hesitantly asked, “What are going to do about Lily?”

She watched as he stopped, his back to her as he thought over his answer. Taking a deep breath, Oscar began walking again whilst saying, “I’ve tried to mask my feelings for Y/n for so long. It’s not fair to anyone to continue doing it. Especially Lily.”

—

I don’t think you have to leave. If to change is what you need, you can change right next to me. When you’re high, I’ll take the lows. You can ebb and I can flow, and we’ll take it slow. And grow as we go. Grow as we go.

Her mind got away from her as she stood in the empty coffee shop. Flashes of Oscar and his face right as she shut the door on him haunted her at every moment. Part of her wishes she had just taken what he was telling her, taken the fact that he loved her and ran with it, but the other part of her, the scared part, wondered if doing so would ensure her heartbreak.

This was the kind of back and forth she had to listen to everyday, all day. She wasn’t doing any growing. She wasn’t changing or evolving in the way she thought she would without him. All she was doing was missing him, whether he loved her or not be damned.

“Oscar, black coffee with milk!” The booming voice of the barista interrupted her thoughts as her brain caught up with the name and order. It was either the biggest, cruelest coincidence or Oscar was in the same coffee shop as her.

With the same name and same order she had continuously gotten him for years prior, her eyes searched around the room. Excluding the baristas and her, there was only one other person in the shop, standing in the middle of the store. She met his eyes, his already being on hers, as they both did a once over of each other.

He was too struck to move, his body simply standing limply as he stared back at her. The coffee he had paid for getting cold by the second, he watched as she walked up to him slowly.

“Osc?” She said quietly.

The nickname was like a knife to the stomach as it brought him back to all the times she had said that very nickname while laughing at his joke, but, now, she says it timidly, hesitantly, nervously.

“Y/n,” He breathed out, sounding relieved. Almost as if he hadn’t been surviving without her.

He knew that to be true, but she didn’t and he wanted to keep it that way.

“How are you? How is everyone?” She asked, a small smile on her face as she remembered his beloved family.

He nodded slowly, “Good. They’re good.”

She smiled bigger, something that warmed his heart, “And you? How are you?”

His eyes left hers, trying to hide the utter sadness he had been feeling without her, “I’m- uh, I-”

She looked down, nodding, “I get it. Me too.”

His head tilted, “I miss you, Y/n. If you need to change and do your thing, I’m all for it. I want to support you through that. This is something we can do together and I want to try. I know you do too. If changing is still what you need, do it next to me.”

His quiet whispers provided the privacy they needed to have this conversation as she willed herself to fight the strong feelings for the man in front of her off.

“I don’t know, Oscar. I was being honest that night when I said I couldn’t do what I needed to do with you in my life.” She countered even though that sentence wasn’t fully true. This time apart had proven one thing: she couldn’t get him off her mind long enough to even think about herself.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t miss me too. Look at me and tell me you don’t wonder what we could be.” He pressed, wanting nothing more than to tilt her head toward his and force her to look him in the eye.

She shook her head as the barista called her name and she swiftly picked up her order. Before she could fully get passed him, he latched onto her arm and turned her around, saying, “Lily and I are done.”

She nodded, shrugging off his hold and making her way toward the door, “Sorry to hear.”

He watched her frame walk away through the window, muttering to himself, “That’s not something to be sorry about.”

—

You won’t be the only one. I am unfinished. I’ve got so much left to learn. I don’t know how this river runs, but I’d like the company through every twist and turn. Oh, who said it’s true that the growing only happens on your own? They don’t know me and you. You don’t ever have to leave. If to change is what you need, you can change right next to me. When you’re high, I’ll take the lows. You can ebb and I can flow and we’ll take it slow, and grow as we go. Grow as we go.

His call came in at 2 AM. Thankfully, she was already up, thinking of him and all they could’ve been. Her shaky fingers pressed the green button as the call connected and she put it to her ear.

“Y/n?” He said brokenly.

“Osc?” She whispered back, knowing whatever was happening, he was incredibly vulnerable.

“I’m sorry I called you. I know you’re trying to move on from me and I’m probably making it worse, but what am I supposed to do without my best friend? You’ve been the biggest part of my life for the whole thing. I can’t just forget about you like you’re asking me to.” He said, putting his heart in her hands.

“Oscar…” She didn’t know what to say because, frankly, she was struggling with the same thing. It was proving to be harder than she anticipated, moving on from him and the irrevocable love she held for him.

“You’re not the only one. I’m 22 just like you. I have so much to learn and so much to grow from. We’re both in the same spot. We can do it together. Why are you fighting us so hard?” He challenged, knowing him loving her back wasn’t the problem.

She sighed, “Because, Osc, what if we don’t work out? What if we date and then break up? Then what?”

“We stay best friends.” He said assertively.

She scoffed, “Come on, Oscar. Be real here. We wouldn’t and you know it. We would break up and never speak again because, then, we’d be ex’s, not ex-best friends.”

He breathed slowly on the other side of the phone, clearly conflicted by her arguments, “But, Y/n, I’ll always love you, whether we’re ex’s or ex-best friends. You don’t ever have to leave. Just give it a shot. Give us a shot.”

She met him with the silence, “I have to go, Oscar. I have homework I need to finish.”

Her abrupt change of tone told him he had found what was wrong. She was scared. Scared to get hurt: scared to put herself in an even more vulnerable position; scared to give him her heart.

“It’s 2 A-” He was cut off when she hung up on him, effectively shutting him out again.

—

I don't know who we'll become. I can't promise it's not written in the stars. But I believe that when it's done, we're gonna see that it was better that we grew up together. Tell me you don't wanna leave cause if change is what you need, you can change right next to me. When you're high, I'll take the lows. You can ebb and I can flow. We'll take it slow and grow as we go.

He was fed up, done acting like they weren’t just tip toeing around each other.

They loved each other, that much was clear. Being scared, he understood that, but he wasn’t about to let her throw the idea of them away and him with it.

It was Friday night as he sat and stared at his phone, willing himself to call her and convince her of the fact that she shouldn’t be scared when it came to him. However, when the dial sound went out and he was met with her voicemail, it hit him.

It was Friday night. The night they would go out to the movies, just them two, and wander back to the other’s house. He couldn’t dare to dwell on the fact that he had ruined that tradition by bringing Lily and he, sure as hell, couldn’t dwell on the fact that Y/n had probably been going back there every week on Friday in the months they’d been apart.

His car wasn’t fast enough. His foot on the pedal, down to the floor, as he swerved through traffic. Yeah, it was incredibly dangerous, but he was a professional driver and he was in love, so what the hell.

Finally, after ages, Oscar pulled up to the infamous theater. He sat in his car as he looked toward the spot they always met and, sure enough, her y/h/c hair was blowing in the wind as she stared at the doors. His heart plummeted. This place had been one of happiness and falling in love, but this whole time he had allowed her to make it into a symbol of their separation, of his mistakes.

Jumping out his car, Oscar’s legs spanned the concrete quickly. He watched as her peripheral vision picked up on his chaotic form, her eyes glancing up to meet his before contorting in confusion.

When he reached her, she continued to look at him in a perplexed way as she said, “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head as if it would organize the thoughts bouncing around the walls of his head, “You can’t be here without me.”

Her forehead wrinkled further, confusion deepening, “What?”

He sat down beside her, on the bench where he had realized he loved her in a way that wasn’t friendly years ago, “You can’t be here without me. We’ve made too many memories here together to have them be tarnished by the shit that I’ve pulled.”

“Oscar-” She started, but he interrupted her.

“No, Y/n, let me finish. I don’t know what’s in store for us or what the future holds when it comes to me and you. But, I do know that if we continue to live our lives without each other, we’ll both regret it. Even if we do fall out of love, which would actually have to be you falling out of love with because I won’t ever stop loving you, we would’ve given us a shot and no ‘what ifs’ would be able to linger. Don’t you see what I’m trying to say? It would be so much better if we just stuck together and found out.” He took her hands in his as he looked at her, giving her everything he had, “Tell me you don’t want to leave. Tell me that what you said that night about needing to fall out of love with me isn’t true anymore. Tell me that you love me too. Because, I know, we can find a rhythm. We can find a way to be together while giving you the space to be your own person. That’s a healthy relationship, Y/n. We can be that. I know we can. It’s just a matter if you care about us as much as I do.”

She smiled at him, her head cocking as she whispered, “Are you done?”

He nodded, “What I was going to say before you interrupted me was that I don’t come here to tarnish the happy memories. I come here to remember the happy memories. I’m here every week because when I sit here, I think about the times when things were simpler, when we weren’t fully aware of the fact that we loved each other. As much as I miss those times, I wouldn’t trade them for the feelings I felt when you first told me you loved me that night. This place is a symbol of the way we’ve grown together and it’s helped me to understand that we’ve been growing right next to each other this whole time. Being scared isn’t an option anymore because you’ve had my heart this whole time. Yeah, there were some bumps in the road, but you’ve kept it safe and protected it for the most part. I’m all in with you and shoving you away doesn’t make sense anymore.”

He stared down at her, his smile slowly growing on his face as she finished, “Of course, I don’t want to leave.”

He breathed out a sigh before pulling her into his arms and whispering how happy he was that she had given him another chance.

“I love you,” He said in her ear while she breathed in his scent.

The two pulled away far enough that Oscar could look her in the eyes and silently ask her if he could kiss her. When all she did was smile back at him, he leaned in and reminded her of the reasons why she needed to stay.

Why she wanted to stay.

The couple sat there that way, tangled in each others’ arms, for the hours to come. Kissing lightly and basking in the beginning of their journey together, Oscar thanked whatever God that was out there that she had found love in him enough to agree to grow as they go.

Grow as we go.

End.

Tags: @sunnytkm23 @luvrrish @oosnapitskat @mehrmonga @f1enthusiastsstuff @piastrisize @au-ghosttype @sopheeg @cxcewg @strawberrychita @loveforyeonjun

Ps. the comment on Hurt Me Once where it was like “i thought education would hurt me but here we are” I CACKLED AND LOLED that was too good fr im sorry to whoever posted that i would tag you but im too lazy to go look after spending hours on this 🥲

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #mclaren #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piasstri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #Spotify

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mischieveousmayhem · 6 days

Note

continuation of the series "Mom, we miss you", Bruce's point of view without his wife

My love, I failed

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death (obviously), Bruce ooc

Synopsis: Bruce took a chance to love again. Only to lose her.

A/N: okay a few things, thank you for all the requests ima work on them asap. second of all , back by popular demand we're gonna do Bruce. Third, I did Bruces differently;). Lastly, I might do Alfred too cuz like he's part of the fam too 🤭 anyways enjoy

THE MASTERLIST

—

"Dear Y/N,

I only want to talk to you, so here I am. You're gone and I realize that. But I miss you so much and can't accept your death. I know you wouldn't want to see me like this, I know you would want me to be strong but I simply can't because you were my strength.

I have not seen the boys in months after your funeral, only one I've seen is Jason and that is because sometimes I will sit out here with him.

I call myself Batman and claim to be a hero. But you were more of hero then I am. You even had your own power. The power of love.

When you first came into my life, I didn't except us to adopt so many kids together or have Damian around. Hell, I didn't even expect us to ever get married. You used that power of love and casted a spell on me.

For all these years you have dealt with me, and I don't know how or why. I know I was a little bit rude to you sometimes but you still dealt with it even when I hurt you. When I got in that bad mood, you always found a way to bring me down to feel like myself again.

As for the boys, they each had their own flaws when they first came into our lives. But to you their flaws made you try even harder to show them you loved them. However, I will never understand how you get the boys to cling onto you like they did. Maybe you just showed them the mother's love they were missing in their life. Hell, you even showed me mother's love, and you are my damn wife.

But my darling, I never got to apologize to you properly. Out of all the times I should've, you came and apologized like it was your fault. I never even said I forgave you most times, because most times it wasn't your fault.

I'm sorry for how I was towards you most of the time. Especially when you were upset about me putting myself and the boys in danger. I realize how bad it was. I apologize for all the times I broke your heart, and didn't help you put it back together.

But last of all, I'm sorry for sleeping with Talia while you were gone that one time. I don't understand myself why you stayed. I know that caused you so much pain and it ate at you when you found out Damian is my biological son.

For going through all this you are proven to be the strongest person I will have ever known.

My love, I failed you. I have said this when it's too late but I hope you're watching me and listening, because I want you to know I'm sorry.

Your pain and suffering has ended. Your long with your mental health is over. You were super strong , and thats why you are The Batmom.

I love and miss you,

Bruce Wayne."

He was crying the whole time he read that to your grave. Which secretly had nothing in it.

Why?

The public visits your grave and Bruce knew they would. But all of your boys had some of your ashes. Tim, had the most.

Bruce had a locket with your wedding picture on it and inside some of your ashes, which he clutched and his tears fell and he read the letter he wrote.

There he sat, underneath the cherry blossom tree at 2:45am, at your grave. His apology unheard by others but hopefully heard by you, Batmom.

#fanfic #bruce wayne #damian wayne x batmom #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce x reader #dc comics #dc universe #bruce #bruce wayne x batmom #tim drake x batmom #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd x batmom #batman #batfam #angst #dcu

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Chapter 5: You're the One That I Want

Summary: You and Javi spend the day running errands when you encounter a few unexpected surprises. After returning back to your apartment, you both face the reality that your weekend together is coming to an end, hoping for more time together soon.

Word Count: 10.6K (I am so genuinely sorry, there's A LOT goin' on in this chapter.)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), vaginal fingering, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy scares, mentions of periods, mentions of food, sweet Javi being embarrassed about his past, Javi having it SO bad for you...Lorraine....

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's liked and reblogged, this is my first ever fic that I've written and I'm so glad people are enjoying it!!! 🥺 This chapter has a lot that happens and I already had to split it up once (yikes on my part), excited to write about what these two crazy kids are up to next!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

You rummaged through your drawers to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and a form fitting sage green tank top, knowing that a Laredo 80 degree day felt like a Chicago 95. You normally would have gone baggy, oversized t-shirt, but given your company, you decided to up your wardrobe choices. Javi leaned against your doorway, arms folded and jaw slack as he watched you get dressed. He had already spent the majority of the morning with you naked, yet something about you putting on more clothes made him half hard again. It didn’t help that you had purposefully picked a black, lacy thong and skimpier than usual sports bra to go under your outfit. You looked yourself over in the mirror before meeting Javi in the doorway.

“Ready?”

“You sure we have to go? You’re killin’ me dressed like that, Osita.”

“Yes, we do, or I am going to die of starvation in my own home.” You pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips.

You did one last check of your kitchen before grabbing your grocery list, purse and keys and slipping on your shoes by your front door. Javi followed suit, trailing behind you as you led your way down the stairs to the parking lot. It was only 11:00 AM, but the hot Texas sun was already beating down, radiating heat waves from the asphalt. Reaching the parking lot, you both unknowingly began walking in separate directions. “Okay, so I’m thinking I’ll probably do my non-food stops first and then we can go to the grocery store after so nothing bakes too much in the car. God is it always this hot? Does that work?” Silence. “Javi?” You turned around to find that Javi had gone in the complete opposite direction “Where are you going?!” You shouted.

“My car is parked over here? Where are you going?”

“My car is parked over here” you pointed in the direction you were walking.

“Let me drive.”

“Do you think I’m not a good driver? Is it because I’m a woman? That’s a little sexist, don’t ya think?”

“What?! No I never said that?”

“Javi, I’m joking. I’m more than capable of driving.”

“I know you are, but I’m offering.”

You thought for a minute about pushing back again, but your boiling state in the blistering heat was a painful reminder you desperately needed to get your car AC fixed, and you weren’t going to subject Javi to burning alive with you.

“Fine.” You said with a huff of defeat, changing directions and making your way back toward Javi. You got to his truck as he opened up the passenger door for you and you muttered under your breath.

“And you think I’m the stubborn one.”

“I heard that.”

As Javi started his car, he pushed open the overhead compartment over the driver’s side to pull out a pair of yellow tinted aviators. It was truly unfair that this man found ways to keep getting hotter. The cool breeze from the AC hit your face as soft music played from the stereo.

“Where to first, Osita?”

“Toy-R-Us.”

Javi raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Not for me, dummy. My niece turns 5 in a few weeks and even though I’m not close by, I still want to get her a birthday present. It should be quick, I think I know what I want to get her. Then we can go grocery shopping.”

Javi nodded in agreement as he backed out of his parking spot and you two hit the road.

“Didn’t know that you were an Aunt.”

“Yeah, my oldest brother, Charlie, has two little girls, 5 and 3, and he and his wife are expecting another one that’s due in November. Neither of my other brothers have kids. They’re the cutest. I miss them, don’t want Olivia to think I’m a deadbeat Aunt who forgot her birthday.”

“My old DEA partner Steve and his wife have a daughter named Olivia. Maybe a little bit older than your niece. Been a while since I’ve caught up with him.”

Javi could vividly remember the day he and Steve brought Olivia home to Connie, Steve’s wife. Crying and scared, Javi watching as they immediately wrapped little Olivia in their arms, showering her with love and affection. The 3 of them looked so perfect together, accepting the little girl into their family. While Javi congratulated them and told them he was happy Olivia would be in a safe home, he would never reveal the sting he felt knowing his chances of having what the Murphy’s did grew slimmer and slimmer with each day that passed in Colombia.

Before he left, Javi had always hoped he’d have a family. He loved his parents so dearly, and wished that one day he could have a resemblance of what they did with the person he loved. His relationship with Lorraine had left him hurt and scorned, as he had almost gotten what he had wished for, but with a woman who couldn’t have cared less about him. By the time he left Colombia, he had written the idea off completely. He was tired. Broken. Scared by the things he had seen, worse yet, done. If he could barely keep himself together, how the hell was he supposed to have a family? He couldn’t imagine burdening someone else, let alone children, with the weight he carried with him. That was until 5 days ago on a Wednesday afternoon in late May. That was until he met you.

“That’s nice that you still keep in touch with him.” You wanted to ask more, but for now, you would take any information you could get about his life before you.

“Yeah, Steve’s a good guy. Pain in my ass, but meant well.”

“You seem to attract a type.”

“And what would that be?”

“A pain in your ass.”

Javi shook his head and chuckled. “You’re a lot cuter than Steve. Makes it a little easier to forgive you.” You playfully punched him, the two of you laughing softly to yourselves as Javi reached his free hand down to set it on the bare skin of your thigh. You sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying his thumb trace gently around your flesh. It was a surprisingly quick trip to the Toys-R-Us. Javi’s truck pulled into a parking spot as you began debriefing him on what you needed as you walked into the store.

“Okay so when I talked on the phone with Olivia last week, she told me she really wants Polly Pockets. I’m just worried because the pieces are so small and I don’t want her sister to accidentally choke on them. I feel like a lot of the Kindergarteners really like those Sky Dancers but they always break. Her mom says she’s been into Pokémon cards but I feel like she’ll get bored of them.”

“Poké-what? Osita, I have no idea what the hell any of that means.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot not everyone spends the majority of their time with 8 year olds. This is all I hear about day in and day out, so I might as well put my knowledge to good use.”

Javi followed you through the brightly colored aisles, stopping as you occasionally would pick up a toy to examine it and then put it back down. As you walked, you talked about your favorite toys from childhood, Javi’s being his collection of Hot Wheels cars that he was convinced his dad still had somewhere in the attic, yours being your Lite Brite because it was the only thing your brothers wouldn’t try to take from you. You continued your journey until you stopped at a brightly colored bear holding a marker. “This one is perfect. My class loves these Doodle Bears. The bear is cute, she can draw on it and wash it off, and Charlie isn’t gonna be pissed that it needs batteries or will take forever to set up. Perfect.”

“Nice pick, Osita. Seems fitting.”

“I keep forgetting that means bear. Guess it is fitting.” You giggled as you plucked the bear off the shelf and began heading back towards the front of the store to check out. As you walked side by side, Javi reached down to grab your hand and interlock his fingers with yours. Neither of you said anything, but you didn’t need to. The smile on both of your faces said everything.

You made your way to the checkout lines, the store being fairly busy for a Sunday Afternoon. You settled on what seemed to be the shortest one, with only a mom, her husband and two little boys in front of you.

“TYLER AND SAMUEL DOOGAN, I SWEAR IF YOU DO NOT STOP CLIMBIN’ ALL OVER THIS CART THIS INSTANT, I WILL TAKE AWAY ALL OF YOUR POKÉMON CARDS FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER.” You could feel the frustration radiating from the petite woman in front of you without even seeing her face. She turned around to face her husband standing behind her, reading a video game magazine, completely oblivious to his children’s antics. “Randy, can you please just tell them to get off? BOYS, ENOUGH.”

“Yeah, sure honey… Boys, you heard your mother, get down.” Randy muttered, not bothering to take his eyes off the magazine or even attempt to sound convincing.

You said nothing, knowing all too well how big of a pain kids could be, but when you turned up to look at Javi, his face had gone ghost white.

“Oh, fuck…” He muttered under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to hear.

“You okay?”

“Uh yeah, um-” His eyes darted frantically back and forth across the checkout aisles. “Um, it looks like there’s a shorter line over-”

“Javi?” The woman’s Texan twang spoke to him with an unsettling sense of familiarity.

“Hi, Lorraine.”

Oh shit. The wires in your brain clicked as you remember your co-workers mentioning their disdain for this woman. You still weren’t quite sure of her connection to Javi, but given his drained face and her snappy demeanor, you had a feeling this woman was bad news.

“Heard you’re back for good. How are things?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re fine. How about you?” You could practically feel the tension in Javi’s body.

“Fine. TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD.” She whipped her head around once again to yell at the fidgety boy.

“Randy, you remember Javi.”

Randy and Javi said nothing to each other and only exchanged painful grimaces, acknowledging the uncomfortable circumstance they found themselves in.

“What the hell you doin’ at a Toys-R-Us?”

You piped in, trying to give Javi any relief you could. “It’s um, my niece’s birthday. Just going shopping to get her something.”

“And you are?”

Stunned by her bluntness, you found yourself speechless. “Oh, um, I’m um-”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

His what?!

Javi gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. This trip was definitely not going as expected.

“Ah.” Her cold gaze met your shock. “Just be careful with this one.”

“Lorraine…”

“Fine, I won’t say anything else. Just figured she deserved a warning.”

“Lorraine, enough.” You had never heard his voice get that stern. Whatever had gone on between them had definitely not ended on good terms. “Looks like you got what you wanted anyways.” He gestured to the two boys now running wild up and down the checkout line, and Randy absent mindedly staring into his magazine.

If Lorraine’s looks could kill, Javi would be a dead man. Her brow scrunched deeper in anger. “Well, good to see you Javi.” She snapped back around as she picked up the bags at the end of the checkout aisle and grabbed both boys by the back of their shirts. “RANDY! Let’s go!” Finally coming to, Randy meandered behind, following Lorraine and the two squirming boys in her grasp.

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered to himself, running both of his hands over his face.

“Next in line!”

You checked out silently, figuring waiting to get back to the car was a better place to discuss what the hell just happened. The only thing breaking the dead silence on the way back to the truck was the occasional grunt or heavy sigh from Javi. You both took your perspective seats in the car as he started the engine.

“Soooooo… I’m not one to pry, but uh, what happened back there?”

“Fuck, Osita, I’m so sorry.” His fists were basically white knuckling the steering wheel at this point.

“Javi, why are you sorry?”

“Just- fuck. Her and how she talked to you, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she seemed delightful.” Javi stared at the roof of his car, breathing deeply. Jokes weren’t going to help the situation. You reached out to grab his arm, causing him to shift his gaze at you. “Javi, like I said, I don’t want to pry, but I promise, whatever you tell me, I’m not gonna judge you for it. I get that shit happens, and it obviously seems like Lorraine isn’t the nicest, I’m sure there’s a good reason for whatever happened between you two.

He let out a few deep breaths, formulating his response. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

You grabbed his arm a little tighter, hoping that your sympathetic stare was enough to prove that you weren’t here to judge him for his past.

“Okay. Are you hungry? Do you wanna get lunch and talk about it?”

“I can always eat. What’d you have in mind?”

“There’s a sandwich place a few minutes from here. Been going there a lot since I started the new job. It’s pretty good. Does that work?”

“Love me a good sandwich. Sounds great, Javi.”

He nodded as you gave his muscles one more squeeze before letting him go so he could back out of his parking spot. You waited until he was back on the road to bring up the other no so subtle bomb that had just been dropped.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

A smile finally made its way back to his face.

“Uh, yeah. If uh, if that’s something you want. I know it’s um, kinda fast, but I really like you Osita.”

“I don’t know, I just really want to spend all my time hanging out with this super hot dude who’s sweet and funny and is the best sex I’ve ever had… but him being my boyfriend… I’m not sure…” you giggled and smirked at him.

“Best sex you’ve ever had, huh?” He smirked back at you and raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t let it go to your head too much.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged at him. “I really like you too, Javi. I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Both your faces spread wide with childish grins as you reached over to grab Javi’s hand and intertwine it with yours. Girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it.

Pulling into the small parking lot of Alejandro’s Deli and Sandwiches, you released your hand from his to cup his face, kissing him long and intensely.

“You ready, boyfriend?” Putting an extra emphasis on the last word.

“Yes, let’s go, you dork.”

The shop was small and well loved, and was clearly a favorite in the area. Past the deli counter were a few small sets of tables and chairs, where people were scattered about enjoying their food. As you waited in line and stared at the menu board, Javi’s hand never left yours.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Javi could clearly tell you were having a hard time deciding as the line continued to move forward.

“You’re the sandwich expert here, what do you normally get?”

“Either the club or the roast beef. Everyone says the BLT is good too.”

“Winner, winner, BLT dinner. I was trying to decide between that one and the Italian, but a BLT sounds SO good right now.”

“Do you want to go grab a table for us while I order? It gets busy here and there’s an open spot in the back corner.”

“Sure!” You let go of his hand to begin rummaging through your purse.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking through my purse for the other BLT I had stored in here. I’m getting money so I can pay for my sandwich.”

“You’re not paying for the sandwich.”

“Let me pay for it!”

“You’re not paying for it.”

“Ugh, Javier Peña, don’t deny that you are just as stubborn as I am. Fine, thank you for the sandwich.”

You sat your things down in the windowsill next to the corner in the back of the shop as you waited for Javi to join you. You looked around to see cute photos of what you assumed was Alejandro’s family, a man eating a sandwich as long as him, and 3 kids chasing a dog who had stolen their lunch. Javi returned quickly with your orders, plus a bag of chips and a chocolate chip cookie. “Chips and a cookie? A man after my own heart. Thank you again, this place is super cute!”

“Yeah the guys at the station suggested my first day because my dumbass forgot my lunch.”

You took a big bite of your sandwich as Javi spoke. “Well it’s a 10 out of 10 suggestion, this is the best sandwich I have had in so long.” You took a few more bites before working up the courage to bring up the reason you were eating sandwiches in the first place. “So… Lorraine.”

Javi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh before he spoke. “Yeah… Lorraine.”

You reached across the table to grab his hand. “Javi, like I said before, I’m not here to judge. I get that things happen. I promise, it’s not gonna make me think any less of you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you’re a good person.”

Fuck. That one hit Javi in a way that he wasn’t sure how to feel. In his heart, he had convinced himself that he was the exact opposite. He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t deserve to have people think he was. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t someone that people should celebrate. A good person was the last thing he considered himself to be. But here you were. He has let you in to see the glimpses of his past and it only made you want him more. You wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be with him. Despite the things he had done, and the person he so desperately wanted to separate himself from. You cared about him.

“You really want the whole story?”

“I have a full belly, handsome man to stare at while I listen, and all the time in the world. Yes. Full story.”

With a deep breath, Javi began to explain how he had met Lorraine in high school. On a dare from his friends, he asked Lorraine to prom after she had broken up with her all star quarterback boyfriend, and desperate not to go to her Senior year dance alone, she said yes. Things were never really great between them, Javi admitted they were young, stupid and horny, and when it was time for them to leave for different colleges, he had tried to put an end to things. That didn’t stop her from calling Javi every time she was at Texas A&M to visit friends to hook up with him and fuck with his head enough to make him reconsider things, until she left again, leaving him feeling dejected and empty. This went on until they both found themselves back in Laredo after graduating college, Javi working on his family ranch while applying for various law enforcement jobs and Lorraine working at her aunt’s flower shop. Now both back in the same place, Lorraine had approached Javi about wanting to try things again. He didn’t love the idea, but it didn’t stop them from hooking up in the back of his truck after he took her out for dinner a few days later.

A few weeks went by and Javi didn’t hear much from Lorraine, until one day he got a frantic phone call telling him to meet her as soon as possible. Once they were together, Javi found Lorraine crying in the diner parking lot she chose to have him meet at, and their conversation went a little like this:

“Lorraine, what’s wrong?”

“I missed my period. It’s two weeks late.”

“Fuck. How? We used a condom, right?”

“Yes. I don’t know Javi, apparently it can still happen.”

“Fuck me. Shit, um, okay. Okay, fuck. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want all of Laredo to know that you knocked me up on a one night stand. God dammit, Javi, I don’t know? It doesn't look as bad if we were engaged or married, or something!”

“Married?! Lorraine…”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He didn’t. And in that moment, he panicked. How could he not? There was nothing less he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with Lorraine, let alone have a child with her. But he wasn’t going to leave this baby without a father and felt so awful about what he had done to Lorraine. He drove home that night, tears streaming down his face as he tried to come to grips with his fate.

The next two months were a whirlwind, Lorraine trying to plan the wedding as fast as possible to avoid any suspicions of looking pregnant. Flowers, catering, decorations, terrible, uncomfortable suits, Javi hated every moment of it. He was miserable. His parents knew something wasn’t right, despite Javi’s efforts to convince them otherwise. They never cared much for Lorraine to begin with, and the unfortunate circumstances weren’t helping.

A week before the wedding, Javi received a phone call, which to his relief, wasn’t Lorraine. It was a call from a secretary at the DEA office in Texas, asking if Javi wanted to come in and interview for a position. It was the first shred of hope he had felt in months, gladly offering to come in the next day. The interview went so well, the hiring agents offered him the position on the spot. There was only one catch. He was going to be stationed in Colombia, and he needed to leave by the end of the month. When he left, he thanked the team for their time, and told him that he would think about it. Everything in his body wanted to scream “I’ll leave right now, please, anything to get me out of the hell that I’m currently living in!” But he knew he needed to think about it first before he just up and left.

His brain stewed over his possibilities for the next few days, leaving him more absent minded about his impending wedding, even though it was less than a week away. The night before his big day, he couldn’t have felt worse. Lorraine had called him to come over and finish up last minute plans before the day came, and begrudgingly, Javi was at her house, listening to her frantically list of things that needed to happen before tomorrow. Javi didn’t hear a single word that came out of her mouth, and excused himself to go to her bathroom to try and get a moment of peace. After washing his hands, he looked down at the trash can next to the vanity. The next thing he knew, he was carrying the waste basket to Lorraine, using every last ounce of self restraint he had not to completely lose it.

“Lorraine.”

“What?”

“What the fuck is this?” He held up the waste basket, his hands shaking.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Javi?”

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about Lorraine. Why the fuck is your trashcan filled with tampon wrappers and a fucking negative pregnancy test?!”

She sat in silence.

“Lorraine, fucking answer me!”

“My period started last week.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?!”

“Javi, the wedding is less than a week away!”

“Lorraine, that was the whole fucking reason we were doing this in the first place! What did you expect, for me just to not notice when you didn’t have a kid 7 months from now?! Jesus Fucking Christ.”

“What did you want me to do, Javi?! I can’t just call off the wedding, my parents paid a lot of money for this, there are people coming from all over! It would be embarrassing!”

“I can’t fucking believe this. You were actually going to go through with this and didn’t even care if you told me that you weren’t really pregnant. Unbelievable.” Slamming the trashcan down on the ground, Javi stormed out the door.

“Javi, wait!”

“Fuck you, Lorraine.”

There was no use trying to deny it anymore. When Javi came home, he broke down to his parents what had happened and how this whole mess had begun in the first place. She wasn’t pregnant, he didn’t want to marry her, he wanted to get as far away as possible from the wake of destruction he had left in his past. He practically begged his parents to drop him off at the airport, wanting to leave as soon as he could. As much as his parents hated to see him go, they couldn’t contribute to the pain and guilt their son already felt. That night was spent calling the DEA to accept the position, packing everything Javi could fit in a suitcase and hugging his mom and dad tightly as he said his goodbyes and got ready to board the next plane to Colombia. The next day, Lorraine was so busy preparing herself and getting ready for the wedding, making sure everyone knew the day revolved around her, that she had no idea Javi was already on a plane across the country. It wasn’t until all of the guests were seated and waiting in the pews of the church that they had figured out Javi was gone.

Lorraine had obviously come to some peace about it, hearing through the phone calls with his parents that 8 months later she was engaged to some guy named Randy who had some big wig job in finance. He had been home not too long ago, HR mandating that he had to use some of his PTO days he refused to take, to attend a wedding of one of his dad’s cousins, where he saw Lorraine for the first time since he had left her at the alter. She had been nicer to Javi then, perhaps taking pity on the fact that he looked so sad and desperate as he tried to talk with her. There must have been something about seeing Javi happy with another woman that absolutely set her ablaze, leaving you in the wake of the mess that was Lorraine Doogan.

Javi finished his story with a deep breath and another run of his hand across his face.

“Javi, holy shit.”

“You ready to take back that ‘you’re a good person’ comment yet?”

One hand reached up to cup the side of his strong jaw, while the other grabbed his hand resting on the table that had been curled up in a fist the entirety of telling his story. “Javi, what are you talking about? Of course not. What Lorraine did you was so fucked up, trying to trap you into marrying her with an imaginary baby because she was too embarrassed to say otherwise? I’m so sorry that happened to you, Javi.”

His only response was a half forced smile, his eyes still staring down at the table.

“If it makes you feel any better, her kids are absolute assholes- I know it’s mean to say that about a kid, but it’s true. They go to my school and they’re in the office every day getting yelled at for doing something stupid. To be honest, I kind of think you dodged a bullet on that one.” His face perked up a little more, letting out a small huff of laughter. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

“Javier Peña, look at me.” You could almost see the guilt and sadness welling in his eyes. “I do not think you are a terrible person. I promise. Thank you for telling me about this, I’m glad you trust me enough to let me know.” You leaned across the small table between you to give him a kiss.

“Thanks, Osita.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m here to listen whenever you want to talk. Whaddya say we go get the rest of these groceries so we can head back?”

You gathered the remains of your lunch to throw away, taking the unopened bag of chips to go as you buckled back in for your final destination. The grocery store was in the complete opposite direction of your current location, so you began shuffling through the CD compartment in his glove box to try and pick out some music to lighten the mood for your drive.

“Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Stevie Wonder, Kenny Rogers… The Grease Soundtrack?! You are a man of many different tastes, Mr. Peña.”

“Okay, the Grease one Steve gave to me as a joke one year for my birthday.”

“And yet, here it is in your car. That means you had to take it all the way back from Colombia with you, unpack it, AND put it in here.” You waved the CD around in your hands, mockingly.

“...Some of the songs are kind of catchy.”

“I knew it!” You popped the CD out of its case and into the radio. “What song do you want?”

“I don’t really know the names of any of them…”

You crossed your arms and smirked at him, knowing sooner or later, he'd give you a response.

“.... You’re The One That I Want.” Javi admittedly defeated.

“Don’t know any of the names, my ass.” You laughed to yourself as you skipped several tracks ahead to Javi’s song selection.

You turned the volume up as you let the music play through John Travolta’s verse, curious to see if you could catch Javi singing along. By the time you were at Olivia Newton-John’s part, you had bursted into full out song, Javi snickering to himself watching your theatrics.

“You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man. And my heart is set on youuuuuuuuu!” You continued your performance through your laughing and dancing. It didn’t take long for you to spy out of the corner of your eye, Javi beginning to mouth the words to himself. You had already teased him enough about his enjoyment of the song that you weren’t about to say a single thing as he sang along. It warmed your heart to see Javi bring down his guard, letting you further and further into the world he lived in. Even if all it was, was singing together in his car. As the song ended, Javi turned down the music, his face suddenly becoming more serious.

“If you ever meet Steve, you have to swear to me you’ll never tell him about this. He will never let me live it down.”

“I’m not sure… I know very little about Steve, but the thought of how much shit he’d give you for your deep, dark, Grease secret does sound entertaining.”

Javi’s mood now having done a complete 180 from your last drive to the sandwich shop, you both headed into the grocery store happy and ready for the last part of your errands. Grabbing a cart, you headed through the produce section, starting with fruits.

“Okay, list says I need apples, bananas, blueberries and maybe strawberries if they’re good.” You both casually strolled, Javi reaching for the items from your list closest to you and putting them into your cart as you continued on your journey. You made your way through vegetables next, Javi very explicitly stating his distaste for the carrot sticks you had on your list.

“They’re so crunchy and bland, and they just remind me of feeding the horses.”

“You have horses at your ranch?”

“Yup, a few of them. Some of our family keeps their horses there, but Pops and I take care of them all.”

“That’s so cool! Do you have any other animals there?”

“Cows and sheep mostly. Some random chickens that we can’t seem to get rid of.”

“That’s amazing. The reason I chose Laredo to move to is because my best friend from elementary school moved down here when we were in high school, and I would visit her family every summer on their ranch. She always made fun of me for how it seemed like I was always more excited to see the animals than her.”

“You can come over to the ranch and see the animals if you want.”

“Really?!”

“Any time, Osita.”

You threw another bag of carrots into your cart. “If I want these horses to like me, I gotta bribe them with something!” Javi laughed, picking the bag up and putting it back with the other carrots.

“Baby, we have plenty of carrots at the ranch. I’m not eating any extras you get.”

You breezed through the rest of your trip, quickly filling up your cart as you and Javi talked more about his ranch, any other foods that fell into the same category as carrots (you were thankful that you both collectively agreed that olives belonged in the same realm), and made fun of you as you put the largest sized vanilla coffee creamer in with the rest of your items. Your checkout line experience was much more pleasant than the one you had experienced a few hours ago. Javi knew the older, frail man working the register, greeting him politely.

“Hi Mr. Garcia, how are you?”

“Javier Peña. Good to see you son. I heard from Chucho you ditched him at the ranch for a new job at the sheriff’s department.”

“I don’t know if ditch is the right word, still try to help out while I can.”

Polite smiles were exchanged as you continued to load items from your cart onto the conveyor belt.

“I don’t think I’ve met your wife before.” Mr. Garcia now looking at you. Javi just about dropped the carton of eggs he was carrying before responding. Part of him almost didn’t even want to correct it.

“Uh, no, um, girlfriend.”

“Well, she’s a cutie.” Mr. Garcia winked at you before you raised your eyebrows to smirk at a now very flustered and embarrassed Javi.

“I don’t know, Jav. Looks like you’ve got some competition. Mr. Garcia seems like a real catch.” You playfully winked back at him, causing the old man to rumble with laughter.

“And funny too.”

You loaded the bags back into your cart and paid for your groceries. As you were sorting, you overhead the two men talking.

“She’s a keeper, Javier.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Now a little louder, Mr. Garcia helped you load the last bag into your cart before saying goodbye. “Nice to see you Javi. Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”

“Thanks Mr. Garcia, have a nice day!”

You began loading your items into Javi’s trunk, watching as his biceps flexed deliciously as he lifted the bags up to put them away. You really had to convince yourself to focus on putting the rest of your groceries away.

Your errands done for the day, you and Javi began the drive back to your apartment. It hadn’t hit you until you looked at the clock radio in his car that it was already 5 o’clock, and that your time with Javi was starting to dwindle, considering the fact that both of you had to work the next day. You glanced at him as he was driving, aviators propped on his face, the tanned skin of his chest exposed from the buttons he seemed to hate having done up, his arms grasping the steering wheel. The image of him made your heart race. Wanting to make sure you capitalized on your time, and realizing now you had zero self control, you were tempted to ask him to pull over his truck right then and there. No, you can make it until you get home, you horny idiot. You thought to yourself, knowing how pissed you would be if you ruined your groceries all because you couldn’t control yourself for a few more minutes. Subconsciously, you licked around your bottom lip, staring at the gorgeous man next to you.

“Hermosa?”

“Huh, what? Did you say something?” You shook your head to bring yourself back to reality.

“I asked if we needed to stop anywhere before we went back to your apartment.”

“Oh, no. I, uh, I don’t need anything else, sorry.”

“Something on your mind?” Javi prodded, noticing that you hadn’t fully been paying attention.

“No, nothing, I’m good.” He spotted the lie instantly. Grasping around the exposed meat of your thigh he gave it a squeeze before sliding his hand further up your leg.

“Sure you don’t have anything on your mind?” His hand now at your hip, fingers dancing along the hem of your shorts, grazing your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Your breathing sped up as you let a gulp fall down your throat. At this point, you were only 5 minutes away from your apartment, but you were absolutely positive you were not going to make it that long. Fuck it, your groceries would be fine, right?

“Pull over.”

Thankful for the long stretches of dirt roads and pockets of abandoned buildings on your way back to your apartment, Javi quickly pulled off to an empty parking lot of a closed down store. You were practically jumping into his lap by the time he had put the car in park. Mouths and tongues clashed as you pulled yourselves into one another. Your kissing reflected the sexual tension that had quickly built up in the truck only minutes ago as you frantically moved about. Feeling how worked up you were already, you sought to seek some form of relief by grinding down on the seam of Javi’s jeans, relieving some of the ache between your legs. Javi grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into the outside of your shorts as he pushed you down into him. He reciprocated the motion, pushing himself up into you, no better than two horny teenagers dry humping in the secret of their parent’s basement. Javi kissed your neck before the tickle of his mustache crept near your ear.

“So needy, baby. Couldn’t wait ‘till we got back, huh?”

In between your mouths meeting you were able to break away for a few moments to respond.

“Well if my boyfriend wasn’t so fucking hot it would have made it a lot easier. I want you so bad Javi.”

Just like that, Javi had you stripped down to your bra, practically ripping your tank top off you. You helped him shuffle down your shorts and thong, taking a moment to smack it against your ass before it looked around your ankles. His hand reached down to palm around your pussy, already wet from the short time you had spent grinding into his lap. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your folds, collecting your slick before dipping inside of you.

“Fuck Hermosa, always so wet for me. Want me to cum inside you like I did this morning? Fill you up?

Before you could answer, his thumb began a frantic pace against your clit to match the pace his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pulled his face closer into your breasts, kissing around them and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Your hips grinded down on his hand, pushing his fingers deeper in you. You tilted your head back and moaned in pleasure. His fingers continued in and out, hitting the spongy spot deep inside you that made you feel like you were about to come undone. That, matched with his calloused thumb rubbing against your bundle of nerves had you on the edge of collapse.

“Javi, fuck, fuck I’m almost there, I’m gonna-“

You felt the coil in your belly snap suddenly, as pleasure ran though you with a sheer intensity. Your hips came to a stop as you slumped into his body, breathing heavily. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he whispered to you.

“Such a good fucking girl. Always taking me so well.”

As he watched you come down from your high, he gently pushed you further down his lap to undo his belt buckle and slide down his pants and boxers just low enough to let his already hard cock spring to its release. You scooted yourself further up again, licking your palm to wrap around Javi’s girth, stroking him a few times before raising your hips up to slowly sink down on his length. You gasped at the sweet sting of his size inside you, taking your time to adjust, lowering down on to him inch by inch. You both moaned as you bottomed out on him and you began to move yourself up and down, feeling him repeatedly filling you and hitting that incredible spot inside you. Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you sped up the intensity of your movements. Your clit rubbed against the jeans scrunched around his thighs as he began to lift his hips up into you.

“You feel so good, baby. Feels so good so deep in me, fuck.”

Javi watched you, awe struck as you continued to ride him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust, and head thrown back in pleasure as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“Jesus, you’re perfect, Hermosa. So tight and wet, so fucking sexy.

There was something about the low rasp of his voice singing your praises that absolutely made you lose your mind. The pace you now found both yourselves moving at was becoming fast and sloppy, so enthralled by each other, you could have cared less about the steering wheel digging into your back. You were filled by his deep, hard strokes, his dick repeatedly filling you and hitting you in a way that made your muscles begin to tense. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he reached beneath you to rub your clit. The tension spread through your body, your orgasm making you scream in delight. The pulsing of your pussy squeezed around Javi’s cock, practically sending him over the edge with you.

“Javi, holy fuck. I want you to come, baby. I want you to come inside me. It’s all yours.

Yours. You were all his. Your words sent him over the edge, knowing that he was the only one you wanted to be with. The only one to please you. The only one to make his mark inside of you. Only a few strokes more and Javi hit his high, letting out a low whimper as he felt himself release inside your warm, tight walls. His dick pulsed as his seed spilled into, leaving you two slumped into each other, breathless. A few moments after you both came to, you finally felt the wet spot you had left over Javi’s jeans, a mix of the two of you staining the denim.

“Fuck, Javi, I’m sorry, I fucking ruined your jeans.”

“They’re just jeans, Osita. Besides, it was fucking hot.”

You could see the dark pools of his eyes growing darker with lust as he reached down to the inside of your thigh, dripping with the combination of your release.

“Will you keep me inside you, baby? Keep you inside me so you know that you’re mine even when I have to leave?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Fuck. His request filled you with joy and hurt at the same time. You were his. Fucking his. At the same time, the thought of having come back to reality after the fantasy you had been living in the past 24 hours stung.

“I don’t want you to have to leave.” Shit, was that too needy? He had just spent the whole day with you. The little voice in the back of your head screamed at you again. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.

“I don’t want to have to leave either, Osita. I’m not going yet, I’ll hang out as long as I can. Would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Phew. “I don’t mean to ruin this super sweet and sexy moment, but do you think you can take your dick out of me so my groceries don’t go bad?”

You both laughed, Javi complying to your request as you shuffled off of his lap into the passenger seat, shimmying your clothes back on. He scooted his jeans back over him, tucking himself back in before doing up his belt buckle.

The trip back to your apartment was embarrassingly short, given that you couldn’t have made it approximately 4 more minutes before arriving back. Javi helped you gather your things, making fun of the thought of you trying to carry all your grocery bags up in one trip, you convincing him that you really could do it, if it was a smaller trip. Javi was very impressed with your organization as you put everything away in its exact spot, making unloading the groceries much quicker than expected. After you had finished, you looked back at Javi leaning against the counter.

“Javi, that stain on your jeans looks like you peed yourself, I feel really bad. Do you want me to wash them for you? I don't want you to have to carry evidence from the scene of the crime back home with you. I have laundry I have to do anyway, it’s no big deal at all.”

“That would probably be a good idea. Are you trying to get me to stay longer by holding my pants hostage in the wash?” You outstretched your hand.

“Guilty, your honor. Pants me, Peña.”

Another reason you had chosen your apartment was the in unit washer and dryer. The pain of having to haul your laundry from your 11th floor Chicago apartment down to a basement that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie was one of your least favorite chores, so having the ability to clean your clothes from the comfort of your room was a plus.

Javi undid his belt and slid both his pants and underwear down to the floor, leaving his bottom half very blatantly naked.

“Oh shit, I forgot you didn’t have any other pants.”

“Also part of your plan?”

“Surprisingly, no. Oh, I actually think I have a pair of my brother’s shorts that accidentally got packed away with my stuff when I moved!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind oing full Winnie the Pooh until your pants are clean? Javi, believe me, I am not mad about this.” you gestured to his crotch. “The problem is, if your dick keeps staring at me like that, I will literally get nothing done the rest of the day, and I have to at least try a LITTLE bit to be productive.”

“Fair enough.” He waited as you shuffled through your drawers to find an old pair of gray cotton shorts, bringing them out and tossing them to him as you grabbed your hamper, made your way to the laundry room, and filled up your washer with your dirty clothes and Javi’s pants. After you had started up the wash cycle, you made your way back to the kitchen, where Javi was still standing, now covered by the shorts you had given him.

“God dammit, Javi.”

“What?” His face surprised as you came back into the kitchen.

“I think the shorts are making it worse.”

“What worse?”

“You might as well be naked, cause I can see… Well let’s just say that there’s very little left to the imagination and I will be using every ounce of willpower to keep myself from crawling all over you. Do you realize how hot you are? It’s truly not fair. Okay, let me just stare at you for one more second and then I can move on.” You crossed your arms as you looked Javi up and down while he chuckled to himself.

“You good?” He laughed.

“Good now.” You giggled, taking one more long look.

“What else do you want to get done tonight?”

“Well normally on Sunday I do laundry and just get ready for the week, make food, stuff like that. It makes it so much better, one, having you here, even though you’re making the getting things done part more challenging, and two because it’s finally the last week of school and the last time I have to do this again until August.”

“When’s your last day of school?”

“Thursday. Only 4 more days, even though it feels like it's going to be 154.”

“Are you doing anything on Thursday?”

“Besides collapsing into a pile from the relief that the school year is done, no. Why?”

“Can I take you out to celebrate your last day of school?”

You blushed. It shocked you how genuinely thoughtful Javi was. Or maybe, you had grown to accept your significant others not having any interest in you at all. There was one summer where it was the middle of July and Paul had asked you why you hadn’t been going into work, like he had literally forgotten what you did for a living, let alone take you out to celebrate it.

“Are you asking me on a date, Javi?” You teased, playfully.

He blushed too. “Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. That’s really sweet of you. What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking about dinner and a movie? Since you seem to enjoy giving me such a hard time about the lack of movies I’m caught up on.”

“I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.” You leaned into him wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I really want to see you before, but the end of the school year is absolutely insane, and there’s school events every night this week.”

“It’s okay, I remember how stressed my mom would be at the end of the year. The last week of school, my mom would tell me and my dad “Por favor. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres.”

“What does that mean?”

“Please don’t talk to me until the children are free.”

“Your mom hit the nail on the head with that one. Well I’m really excited for Thursday, thanks Javi.”

“Me too, Osita.”

You stared at each other for a moment in silence, taking the other in. Javi’s hand released itself from your waist to brush away hair from your face before cupping the side of your jaw to kiss you. Your heart sped up anytime Javi’s lips met yours, but there was something about this kiss that felt different. It was sweet. Tender. Gentle. The kind of kiss that screamed I’m so lucky you’re mine without saying a word. A kiss you hoped you’d never had to live without.

“I like you a lot, Javi.”

“I like you a lot too, Osita.”

“Sooooo, I have at least another hour and a half of keeping your pants hostage, and we clearly need to get you up to speed on your movie knowledge before Thursday, do you want to pick something out to watch?”

“Didn’t you say you had things you wanted to get done?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, well, those can be tomorrow's problems. Go pick out a movie you haven’t seen yet and now that I have real food, I’ll go get some snacks for us while we watch!”

“Sounds like a great plan.” He kissed the top of your head as you parted ways. You went to the kitchen to microwave a bag of popcorn while Javi spent a long time very intently staring at the VHS collection below your TV. You returned with a big bowl filled to the brim, curious to see what Javi’s pick would end up being. “Alright, I’m excited to see what we get to watch tonight!” You set the bowls down on the table at the end of your couch, unfolding one of the fluffy blankets you had draped over the end.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna be happy we’re watching it, but not happy about the fact I picked it.” He took the VHS from behind his back and placed it on your lap.

“NO. JAVI. YOU’VE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS?!”

“No…”

“SERIOUSLY?”

“Technically I did see it once when I was in high school but I don’t remember anything about it because I took a girl on a date to go see it and we just sat in the back of the theater and made out the whole time.”

“Romantic. Hate to break it to you, that will not be happening tonight if we’re watching this.” You patted the seat next to you on the couch, ushering him to go sit down as you pushed in the tape and pressed play. “I know I said Indiana Jones was my favorite movie but I actually think I lied. It’s 100% Star Wars.”

Without hesitation, you curled up next to Javi resting your head into his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you in closer as the theme music for the opening credits began blaring through your speakers. As the movie started, you could tell Javi was trying his hardest to watch intently, asking the occasional question to make sure he understood what was happening.

“Why do the tiny people in the robes have no faces and yellow eyes? Are they supposed to be bad guys? They’re not very scary.”

“They’re Jawwas, Javi. They’re little sand creatures that collect scrap parts and sell them. They’re not really good or bad, they just kind of hang out on Tatooine.”

“Jesus, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.”

“Just shhhh and watch the movie.” You lovingly gave Javi a shove as he snickered.

As the movie continued, the two of you found yourselves sinking further and further into the couch, Javi now laying flat on his back, head propped against the pillows, and you on top of him, head propped on his chest. One of his arms rested on top of your back, tracing back and forth along your shoulders, the other demolishing handfuls of popcorn from the bowl he had found next to him. Javi definitely didn’t strike you as someone who would be much of a cuddler, but in the short time you had spent with him, you quickly realized this man wanted to be touching you in some way, shape or form at all times. He may have looked tough, but this man was a big ole softie. Right around the point where Luke, Han and Chewie were making their way to break Princess Leia out of her cell, you pushed yourself up off of Javi with a quick kiss.

“Hey wait, where are you going? It’s getting really good!” He grabbed your hand, almost pleading with his puppy dog eyes for you to stay on the couch with him.

“I just have to go change the laundry to the dryer really quick, unless you wanna go home in wet denim. Also apparently get more popcorn “Mr. No I’m not that hungry, I don’t want any”. I’ll be right back, promise.”

You gave him a quick kiss as you got up, threw another bag of popcorn in the microwave and moved your clothes to the dryer. Shaking the hot popcorn bag and refilling your bowl, you climbed back on top of Javi, nestling yourself comfortably against his broad frame. You were relieved that Javi was genuinely into the movie, making comments and remarks after big action scenes, popcorn making a constant path from the bowl to his mouth. He was like a 12 year old boy trapped in a grown man’s body. It made you wonder how many other people had gotten to see this side of Javi before. It was no secret to you that whatever past he carried weighed on him heavily. His mom, Lorraine, Colombia. Even though you didn’t know the whole story, it made you hopeful to think you could be part of a new chapter that brought him a little more joy than he had before.

As the ending scene credits rolled, you leaned your head up to him. “Soooooo… what’d ya think? Better than a high school make out session in a dark movie theater?”

“There’s other ones right? Can we watch more of them? Osita, I can see why you like this so much. There’s some stuff in it that’s fuckin’ weird, but I guess it’s space, but it was really good.”

“Absolutely we can. I do hope you know, the more we watch, the nerdier I will get.”

As the VHS ended and a silence filled the room, you realized the dryer was finished and had stopped running, and the monotonous tick of the clock behind your TV read 9:17 PM. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask Javi to leave. How could you? But your lack of accomplished to-do’s and the looming screams of 8 and 9 year olds at 7:30 tomorrow morning already had you feeling the impending headache already building behind your eyes. The huff of disappointment you let out of you was much louder than you had hoped, and Javi knew exactly why.

“I don’t want to go either, Osita. But tomorrow is gonna kick both of our asses if I don’t leave.”

“Yeah, I know…” your lip let out a pout.

“Thursday will come fast, I promise. Even if I can’t see you, I’ll call you and we can at least talk on the phone if you’re up for it.”

“Fine. I will release you and your jeans from my custody. Let me go grab them for you.”

Hopping off the couch, you threw your clean clothes back into your hamper to be sorted later, pulling out Javi’s jeans and boxers to give back to him.

Bringing the pair back to the couch, you found Javi leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for you to return.

“Just so you know, in this apartment, there is a 3 kiss minimum to obtain any clothing items belonging to your bottom half.” You pressed into him, dangling the pants and underwear in your outstretched arm.

“What happens if I give you more than 3?”

“You can use them as a down payment towards your next set of pants you need to get back from me.”

“God, you’re such a dork.”

“Kiss me or lose the pants, Peña. Choice is yours.”

You shrieked and dropped the jeans as Javi suddenly wrapped his arms underneath you and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“One…” He leaned in to peck your lips in between your giggles.

“Two…” Another kiss landed on your mouth, a little longer than the last.

“Three.” A final slow and sweet set of lips grazed across yours, his mustache tickling you as he pulled away and set you gently back on your feet.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Javi laughed as he reached down for his clothes, shuffling the gray shorts down his legs, and exchanging them for his boxers and jeans. “Could be worse.” As he finished running his belt through the jean’s loopholes, you went to your fridge to rip a fresh piece of paper from your grocery list, and began scribbling.

“For you.” You reached out your arm, handing Javi a note with your phone number and a smiley face and a cute doodle of a bear.

“Thanks, Osita.” You found yourself both begrudgingly making your way to the front door, as Javi slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, finally admitting defeat that the weekend had to come to an end.

“Will you call me when you get home so I know you made it back safe?”

“Of course.” He reached down to cup your face, your lips meeting one last time, savoring every sweet second before he pulled away to run a hand through your hair and kiss the top of your head. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday, okay?”

“Okay.”

He reached down for the doorknob, slowly twisting it and opening the door, revealing the empty hallway he was about to walk down. “I’ll see you soon, Osita.”

“Not soon enough. See you on Thursday, Javi.”

He gave your outstretched hand one more squeeze before finally letting go, the door quietly clicking as it shut behind him.

In that moment, there was one thing you knew for certain. You had it bad for Javier Peña.

Finally coming down from your lovestruck high, you looked around your apartment to realize you had done very few things on your list to get ready for tomorrow. Mentally prioritizing, you cleaned up your living room, laid out your clothes, and changed your sheets, making a note that if you were going to keep seeing Javi like this, there needed to be more in the rotation. Once you finished, you brought your laundry out to the living room, turning on the TV and folding, waiting for Javi to call.

Little did you know, Javi spent the entire rest of his ride home imagining you by his side, as listened to the rest of the Grease soundtrack.

As he pulled into the ranch and made his way into the house, he had never been more relieved to find his dad passed out in his armchair with the TV blasting, thankful to avoid questionings about his whereabouts- at least for now.

Quietly making his way to his room and closing the door, he took the cell phone out of his back pocket, along with your note, and pressed his fingers into each number.

You barely let one ring go by before dropping the laundry that was in your hands and springing towards the phone.

“Hi, Javi.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Not many people are calling me at 9:45 at night just to chat. You make it home okay?”

“Yeah, I did. I’ll let you get to bed, but I just wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun this weekend. I’m uh, I’m really glad that you like spending time with me.”

“I am too, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.”

“I’ll call you later this week and we can talk details for Thursday?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Okay. Duerme bien y dolces sueños, Osita.”

Something about his voice in Spanish practically melted your heart. “Something about good and sweet?” You tried to translate.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams.”

“Well in that case, duerme bien y dolces sueños a ti tambien, Javi.”

“Bye, Osita.”

“Bye.”

After hearing the click on the end of your line, you hung your phone back on the receiver, putting your hands in your face and letting out a little scream to yourself. Yeah, you had it REAL bad for Javier Peña.

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randomshyperson · 3 months

Text

Fluorescent Adolescent - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: Layla's presence brings back some ghosts from your past and for the first time, you want to include Wanda in everything.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, mentions of blood, stitches, and pregnancy nausea, talking about abusive environments (innuendo of different forms of exploration), mild angsty with a bit of comedy as well, some Blackhill drama too | Words: 6.935k

A/N-> This chapter is a bit longer but I tried to put more characters background on it. I know it's late, I've been struggling with my writer's block, but it's finally here. I'm also sorry there's no smut on this one, but the chapter mood was not a sexy one. We will be back to our normal schedule I promise. Also, the extra chapter with their first kiss is almost ready as well! So hopefully, the next update won't take that long.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

“Do you really have to do that?”

The question drew a confused laugh from you. With your hands busy with a first aid kit borrowed from Natasha, you can only offer a look to your girlfriend.

"Yes?"

But Wanda snorted stubbornly, crossing her arms before stopping in the doorway of the bathroom in Black Widow's room, who was standing outside with the rest of the team. You were supposed to go back outside right away before Layla had a nervous breakdown at being left with the entire Avengers team while you grabbed the kit to fix your own reaction to seeing her and ending up hurting her.

"I just don't understand why you have to do the bandage. Can't you ask Nat or any of them?" Wanda insisted, sounding very irritated and you had no idea why.

"Well, Layla only trusts me of all the people present and I'm the one who threw her against a snack machine." You half-heartedly explain the whole thing. "If you'll excuse me, sweetheart."

Wanda gave you the room but did so with a grimace that you would probably try to understand later. She's been acting so weird ever since your partner arrived, but Layla's presence is making you worried enough. You'd talk to Wanda after you understood exactly what the other woman was doing here.

Outside, and in the outer courtyard that was more isolated from the rest of the motel, Layla was sitting at one of the tables with the Avengers doing a poor job of disguising the fact that they were on alert for her. Sitting down, her jacket was laid beside her, and she was wearing a tank top that exposed the redness of her new bruise and made you groan low in guilt. Wanda, who hadn't left your trail since Layla appeared, glared at you as soon as she caught the sound.

For the witch, she didn't see the bruise but the beautiful woman with well-defined muscles, a tight tank top and curls that made her look even more attractive than before. And you, who apparently had a long-term relationship with the curly woman and were friendly enough for her to come looking for you.

You didn't even notice the look Wanda gave you, busy opening the kit and mumbling apologies to Layla in Arabic that made Wanda spend the next few minutes imagining you learning another language just to talk to your friend.

She was so distracted by her own neuroses that she didn't notice Natasha approaching, and leaning on the pillar she was also resting on.

"Wow, if looks could kill..." teased the widow, but Wanda snorted lowly, ignoring the phrase and trying to pretend she wasn't watching you pull whatever piece of glass the machine left behind in Layla's back, while you whispered apologies to her for it.

Natasha chuckled at the witch's expression and wasn't intimidated by her aggressive attitude. It surprised her that Wanda, a moment later, was the one who started the conversation.

"Do you think they seem close?"

You had just pressed a cotton pad with alcohol on Layla's wound, and because you were sitting next to her, the woman, grunting in pain, instinctively grabbed your thigh.

Nat raised an eyebrow.

"I bet you ten bucks they've slept together." Replied the widow, and Wanda grunted in disgust before turning away from the scene. Natasha giggled. "Hey, I'm joking."

"Whatever, I'd better get out of here before I blow something up." Muttered the witch in a frown, practically running away from the scene.

Natasha sighed, regretting having taken the provocation too far. She took one last look at you and Layla before turning back to Steve and Sam on the other side of the courtyard.

You were just finishing sewing the few stitches on Layla's shoulder when she called your attention.

"Sorry, I promise I'm almost done-"

"It's not that, يا حلو (sweetie)." She interrupts gently. "I don't think your girlfriend likes me."

You smile, unable to take your eyes off the stitches you're closing. "Don't be silly, Wanda doesn't know you well enough." You retort. " She'll need at least a few days not to like you."

Layla chuckles, pinching you gently for the joke. You finish the stitches next, and as you assess the work to make sure they won't open, she speaks again.

"I've been looking for you." Layla's tone is a little upset, and it surprises you. You look at her, but she continues to stare at the team from a distance. "I thought you might have been kidnapped. Or even killed. I almost went to Valentina to ask." You swallow, ready to apologize when Layla finally looks at you. "And all this time you've been playing superhero with your new friends?"

"Layla, it's nothing like that."

"So what's it like?" She demands with a hard stare. You sigh, hesitating about taking it all in like that, and Layla studies you intently. When she speaks again, it's in another language that she hopes no prying ears can understand. "هل هي مهمة أخرى؟ (Is it another assignment)?"

You look back at Natasha talking to Sam and of course she would know Arabic, but she didn't really seem to be paying attention to the conversation.

Either way, you face Layla and and denies it with your head. You sigh once more before forcing a smile at her. "I'm not here on business."

Layla doesn't seem to believe your words. "Come on, I'm not going to torment you if your girlfriend asked you to steal something for them." She shrugged. "I even heard that they're being treated like criminals now. Decided to act on their own, huh?"

You don't answer right away. You occupy your hands with the bloodstained cotton and the needle thread, saving what can be reused, like the alcohol, and throwing away the rest.

When you return to the table where Layla is still exchanging hard looks in the direction of the Avengers, you lean over to talk to her.

"Valentina didn't send me here." You say. "Like I said, it's not about work. Me and Wanda, we're together for real."

Despite the tense exchange between her and the rest of the team, excitement shines through her irises and she looks at you with wide, surprised eyes, a smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, you didn't say."

You chuckle shyly, looking away from your colleague. "Shut up."

"No, I mean it." She giggles. "Damn, I think I owe Xu Xialing some money." You frown in confusion, and Layla sighs. "She bet you'd put a ring on it before the end of the year, and here we are."

Your ears heat up, but you roll your eyes. "I can't believe you bet on me."

Layla chuckles, gently bumping her good shoulder against yours. "Come on, what do you expect from the founder of the Golden Daggers? She breathes gambling. You got really drunk after the last championship and started whining about how much you missed your little Sokovian witch. I wasn't expecting to owe Xialing 20,000 Yuan either, but here we are."

It's your turn to laugh, covering your face for a moment. "And how is she? Xu Xialing?"

Layla snorts softly, shrugging. "Honestly, I have no idea. But if the club is still standing, then she must be fine."

"You should visit her."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you." Layla retorts somewhat ironically, and you hesitate, looking away. "What? Why are you acting so weird?"

You chuckled weakly, trying to gather your courage. Finally, you take a deep breath and say. "I'm not going to do these things anymore, Layla. Nothing we did together. Robberies, fights, the club. None of it. I want out."

But it doesn't take Layla by surprise. She remains silent before looking away.

"I guess I expected that."

You frown. "Really?"

Layla chuckles, looking at you again. "Yeah. Since the day you arrived from Italy, acting so... quirky."

"I wouldn't use that word."

"I thought it would be rude to call you a simp."

You chuckle, shaking your head. Layla laughs too, before leaning her good shoulder against yours. It's an affectionate gesture, which she used to do a lot when you were on long robberies and so exhausted that the world would stop making sense. The touch was a way of anchoring each other back to reality.

"You could have told me." She says gently, even if the words hide a certain disappointment.

You swallow, looking down at your shoes. "I was afraid, I guess." You mumble, and she frowns in confusion. You sigh sadly. "I'm not good with these things, Layla. You're my work partner. I thought, if I'm not working anymore, I'll lose you. I just... didn't want that. It was easier not saying anything."

Layla reaches over to entwine her arm in yours and take your hand. "You're an idiot."

"Thanks." You mumble, but she chuckles, squeezing your fingers for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." She says and you look at her curiously. She sighs. "For giving you the impression that we were just work colleagues. You're my friend. You've always been my friend."

You smile, ignoring the sudden urge to cry.

"I'm sorry I didn't call." You mumble. "I didn't want to worry you."

"Nah, it's fine." She assures you with a smile. "It's like Bulgaria all over again. I should have waited for backup, but all I ended up doing was calling you for help. I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that you got me out of that basement wearing the Chief of Government's face." You chuckle nostalgically at the story of what was probably the moment when your friendship and partnership with Layla was settled.

"You want to get even? Tell Valentina about me." It's supposed to be a joke, but it immediately makes Layla tense up.

She opens her mouth to say something, but suddenly there's a backpack slamming into her lap.

"Your things are in one piece again." It's Wanda, angry and with red eyes that make Layla frown with some concern. The remnants of her magic leaving the backpack also signal that Wanda has repaired anything broken by the impact earlier. "You can leave now."

You only realized you were still holding Layla's hand because Wanda was looking directly at it. It was your friend who let go first, chuckling weakly at the whole thing while you tried to understand exactly why Wanda seemed about to murder someone.

"Thanks for fixing my stuff, but I still have a few things to discuss with my partner." Layla replies with a shrug, her backpack in her hands. "I'll get something to eat first, I'm starving."

But Wanda steps forward. "There are some great restaurants on the road."

The curly gives a confused snort at the hostility, but you get to your feet before your friend ends up giving a rude answer to a witch who could do a lot worse than push her against a snack machine.

You enter Wanda's field of vision, and much of the fury disappears from her gaze.

"Hey, can we talk?" You ask, and the witch gives the thief one last angry look before allowing herself to be taken to a far corner of the courtyard. You sigh softly as soon as you're alone with her. "What was that all about, Wanda?"

She crosses her arms, her jaw clenched. It's so unfair that Wanda always finds ways to make herself more attractive.

"You told me you didn't have any friends, but you seem very close to that woman."

You hesitate, and that doesn't help your situation. Wanda narrows her eyes at you, and you try not to look intimidated under her red irises.

"It's complicated."

" It's better not to be, darling, because if she touches you again I swear I'll-"

"Wow, you're jealous." You interrupt her sentence as you realize it, a laugh escaping you. "Holy shit, you really are."

Wanda doesn't reply, rolling her eyes and looking away, but you stare at her with a certain intensity.

"No one's ever been jealous of me before." You confess quietly, and despite the color in her cheeks, she looks at you with irritation.

"Stop it." She retorts. "That's not a good thing. You shouldn't try to look on the bright side, I'm not… “ She takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm her nerves. Then, she tries to smile. “I'm just being silly. You should say that."

You chuckle. One of your hands moves up to brush the rebellious strands of hair out of front of her eyes.

"Alright, I'll try. Wanda, you're being silly. There's no reason to be jealous. Better? I kinda sound like those movie characters."

Wanda grunted in frustration, hiding her face in your chest afterward. "It's not fair." She mutters, her voice muffled in your clothes as your hands wrap around her shoulders. "She was all over you, and I can't even be mad at you for being clueless."

You sigh, without breaking the embrace, trying to explain further:

"It was a friendly gesture, I promise. It's nothing like when we hold hands. When Layla and I would go on missions together, sometimes we'd spend so long hiding, rationing food while injured, that we'd start to get a little crazy. The touch would ground us again. She reached out to my hand because I told her I wasn't going to work with her anymore."

Wanda breaks the embrace to look at you. "Because you're staying with me."

You smile and nod. "That's right, darling. Just like I promised."

The witch sighs, sinking her face into your chest again for a long moment. You don't mind and stroke her hair until Wanda ignores the insecurities that have arisen and relies only on you.

She's still hugging you when she mutters: "I'm sorry for snapping at your friend. I'll apologize to her too."

"It's okay, I doubt Layla took it to heart." You mutter, and Wanda breaks the hug to look you in the eye.

"What does she still have to discuss with you?" The witch asked more seriously, with a different kind of concern rather than jealousy now.

You force a smile. "Let's find out."

The new information you passed on to Layla about running away seemed to have some kind of effect on her because when you and Wanda found her again, she was chatting amiably with the rest of the Avengers. Wanda had the impression that Sam was actually flirting with her and felt some weight leave her shoulders even though you had assured her that there was nothing between you.

With the most sympathetic exchange between Layla and the rest of the team, she was invited to stay - Of course, she didn't miss the opportunity to make a few jokes on earth mighty heroes having lunch with criminals, but everyone took it as a joke. And shortly after eating, Wanda noticed that the two of you exchanged a look that meant it was time to talk.

She was ready to deal with her own jealous insecurities when you, who had been by her side all lunch, leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Come on, love, let's go for a walk with Layla." It's an invitation, not just to talk, but to a part of your life that Wanda has never seen. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to control her anxiety, and it helps a little by the look of reassurance that Natasha throws her from across the table.

Layla, now with the bandage securely sewn up, is wearing a jacket again and dark glasses that make her look too cool even for the fugitive Avengers.

Wanda wishes she wasn't so nice and clever in her jokes and comments during lunch either, so it would be easier to hate her.

So far, she has only been able to understand exactly why you were friends.

"I gotta catch a bus, come on." Layla says as soon as you're on your feet. There's no bigger goodbye for the Avengers than a nod, and it makes sense since despite the polite exchange, they're not friends and Layla is still on the wanted list.

You keep your hand intertwined with Wanda's, and at a slow pace, you accompany Layla to the nearest bus stop.

"It's quite of sad you couln't get a car, my friend." You tease, earning a short laugh from Layla. Even though you can't see behind her glasses, you're sure she rolled her eyes.

"I couldn't bring my bike straight here from across the globe, and I wasn't going to attract unwanted attention by stealing a new one." She explains casually. "Besides, there's decent public transportation around here." She winks at you and Wanda. "I will survive."

You reach the bus stop on the corner, it's completely empty but that's not atypical for a corner motel in an isolated place.

Wanda decides to sit on one of the benches, and even though you're standing, you don't occupy her view or try to exclude her from the conversation. You lean against one of the railings and cross your arms, offering Wanda a small smile before facing Layla.

"So, Miss El-Faouly, how fucked am I?"

She chuckles, shaking her head.

"I told you, Valentina doesn't know you ran away." She retorts. "Not yet."

You sigh, and Wanda bites the inside of your cheek. She has so many questions, but you think it's best not to interrupt.

"What does she know?"

Layla shrugs. "She probably thinks you're having another morality crisis." The woman retorts, stealing a few glances down the street. "You've been away before. A few times on vacation, yes? But she'll know what you're up to if you don't come back soon."

You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You laugh humorlessly. "Actually, I've just missed the deadline. It's Tuesday, which means that officially, this is my longest period without contact after a mission. I guess she hadn't come to me yet because what I picked up in Greece arrived in the mail."

Wanda doesn't ask - not about what you were stealing before you joined her. The connection, the freshly healed bullet wound you had when you arrived. She knew you were working.

Layla steals a glance at the witch before clearing her throat.

"What if... you came back?" Your expression hardens immediately, but Layla clarifies; "Just to talk to Valentina, Y/N."

"No, Layla."

"She'll make things more difficult if she knows you've just left. You know that. If only-"

"It's out of the question."

"God, why are you being so stubborn?" Layla replies a little impatiently, her eyes studying you. "Your superhero girlfriend will be fine for a few days without you!"

"Layla." You cut in more seriously, and the girl snorts angrily but doesn't insist. Exchanging a glance with Wanda, you soften your tone. "I'm not leaving her, Layla. I can't, it's not right. Wanda, she... she's pregnant."

Layla widens her eyes, looking between the two of you in shock. "What? Really? And it's yours?"

You and Wanda choke at the same time. With her ears slightly reddened, she gives your friend a deadly stare. "Of course it is!"

The thief shakes her head quickly. "I didn't mean it like that!" She tries quickly. "I just... I didn't know you could, Y/N."

You sigh wearily. "I can transform into any Caborn-based form and you think I'm unlikely to have children?"

But Layla rolls her eyes, suddenly a little hesitant. "That's not what I meant either." She mutters. "I just assumed... you couldn't. Not after all they've done to you..."

But you clear your throat, get to your feet and Layla falls silent. Wanda frowns in curiosity at the interaction, but you're delivering something to your friend.

"Here, for Lagaro. For all the trouble." You hand over your watch and Layla grimaces.

"And my trouble?"

You chuckle. "Af if you weren't dying to see me."

Wanda clears her throat, and you take a step away from Layla before your girlfriend loses her temper again. The curly doesn't notice, busy putting your watch back in her pocket and checking the street again.

"Lagaro will be happy to know you're not dead, Y/N. Not just with the watch." Your friend comments and you nod, moving closer to Wanda to rest one of your arms on her shoulder. You're trying to relax the tension that has arisen there. When Layla looks at you again, her expression is more serious. "Think about what I said. I understand why you can't leave her, I really do. I guess it's the same idea with Marc disappearing to protect me."

You smile. "Marc disappears because he's an idiot, you should have married someone more... present." Layla raises her middle finger at you, but Wanda suddenly feels very silly knowing that all this time, your friend was married.

There's a bus approaching on the corner, Layla sighs as she sees it stop at a red light. She then offers you two a smile.

"Despite the circumstances, I'm really happy for you both." She assures you with sparkling eyes. "Just... be safe, darling. Okay?"

As she hugs you, she whispers something that Wanda doesn't hear and has to ignore the instinct to ask. She doesn't want to pry, but she feels so curious that she almost uses her powers to find out.

Instead, she also says goodbye to Layla and the two of you watch the woman get on the bus and leave.

Once you're alone, you entwine your hands together again and give Wanda a small smile.

"I can almost hear the gears in your mind working, baby." You tell her gently, and Wanda sighs. "You know you can ask me anything, don't you?

She nods, before looking around to see the growing number of lunchtime passers-by. With another sigh, she faces you.

"Let's go back inside."

It's a silent, tense walk back. You can sense that Wanda is nervous, and you fear that she's insecure again, about trusting you, about feeling left out.

The Avengers are no longer outside, whether they're back in their own rooms or out for a walk, you don't need to give any excuses about Layla's quick farewell.

Wanda enters first, and as you close the door, she crosses her arms and waits in the center of the room.

With a sigh, you speak first. "Come on, darling, ask me anything you want." You try to sound as gentle as you can, yet Wanda seems very nervous.

"I've spent so much time studying you. Your missions, your deeds, your disguises." She begins. "Still, I feel like I don't know anything."

"Well, that's because I'm good at what I do." Wanda looks at you seriously and you sigh, forcing yourself to act more serious about the whole thing. "Sweetheart, you know me. You know me more than anyone else."

You try to touch her cheek, but Wanda pulls away. "You say that, but I don't think it's true." She fights back annoyed. "I didn't even know about Layla. What else are you hiding?"

You frown in surprise at the accusation. But instead of starting a fight, you swallow dry. "I wasn't hiding. This is hard for me. I can't just dump my life on you. Sharing... doesn't come naturally to someone like me."

Wanda looks down, a little uncertain. "I just want you to trust me."

"And I do." You assure her, stepping forward to touch her shoulders. This time, she almost melts into your touch. "Look at me, I've been an wanted criminal for as long as I can remember, but I'm here, in a hotel surrounded by avengers, just to be with you. I want to be with you, no matter the risk, no matter what. Not only do I trust you, but I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? You not knowing all the details of my past, of my work, doesn't make it any less true."

Wanda takes a deep breath and lets her forehead fall to yours. You stroke her shoulders, thinking about breaking the distance when suddely she moves away.

"You really have to go, don't you?" She asks with tears in her eyes, and you feel your stomach sink. You shake your head immediately, but something in your gaze makes Wanda's tears start to fall.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Y/N."

"I'll find another way." You assure her, but she turns her back, wiping her face and sitting down on the bed. Wanda hugs her own body and you let your arms fall by your sides. Seeing her cry is always the worst, and for a second, you let your anger get the better of you. "What? Do you want me to leave by any chance?"

Wanda lets out a tearful laugh. "Don't do that."

You snort angrily. "I'm telling you that I want to stay, that I am going to stay. And you're crying, as if you're sure I'm going to leave. I don't like being called a liar, Wanda."

She shakes her head. "Stop."

"No, you stop. I'm telling you something, but you're acting as if I'm going to abandon you. As if you were sure. Do you really think so little of me?"

Wanda chokes, raising pleading eyes to you.

"Of course not!" she retorts. "Don't say that."

The seriousness in her gaze makes you feel ashamed that you'd even considered such a thing. You prepare to apologize, but Wanda speaks again.

"It's your thoughts." She mutters, now she's the one who looks ashamed as she gazes at the floor. "Your mind is screaming that. You're so worried, I can easily hear it."

"Wanda, I...

"It's okay." She cuts in with a tearful voice. "I'm not angry, I think I get it. You don't want to put me in danger, but I'd like you to understand that you don't have to worry about it. I can protect us both."

You chuckle weakly, looking down at your feet. "That sounds lovely, but the last time I left you, you ended up in the Raft, darling. I don't want that to happen ever again."

"And it won't."

"You don't know that." You retort, moving closer to kneel in front of her. Your hands search for hers. "I won't leave you again, Wanda. Not like I used to do to get back to work. We're in this together. Can you please believe me?"

Wanda lets go of one of her hands to stroke the loose strands of hair away from your face. "Why is it so hard for you to get away from Valentina?" She asks, and the red irises explain why she can read the insecurities in your mind. You hesitate, but when you make a move to pull away, the grip on your hand tightens. "What's different between escaping her and escaping Hydra?"

But the hesitation in your eyes turned to confusion. "Escape Hydra? Wanda, I've never escaped them."

It was then her turn to be confused. "B-but I thought... your records. You haven't worked with Strucker for years. I assume-"

"That I just left them? Like you did?" You add, suddenly upset. Wanda says nothing and allows you to let go of her hand to sit down next to her on the bed. You sigh before speaking again. "I never ran away from Hydra, Wanda. My program was a success. And because of that fact, Strucker was allowed to command yours." You say, without meeting her gaze, your hands fiddling with the loose threads of your jeans. "Even if he made mistakes, even if volunteers kept dying, he could still be in charge. Because it worked for me, so it would work for others."

"What happened to you?" she risks asking and you sniffle.

"What happens to valuable merchandise, of course." You reply darkly. "I was sold." Wanda chokes softly, but you force a sad smile and keep talking. "I was 10, maybe younger. The program was complete, Strucker decided it was time to show off his new triumph. At his request, I created my first fixed identity at that time, to make it easier to find clients. To have a trademark, I guess. But with each buyer, they wanted something different. The Slayer, Mighty Samuel, Scorpion, Dark Diamond, any weird name they wanted. Any face they needed. For any service they paid for." The way your jaw tenses makes Wanda understand what is hidden between your words. Everything that was left out of the Shield and Avengers files, simply because they didn't know you were all those people.

Wanda reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers together. "If it's too painful, you don't have to talk about it."

You squeeze back, shaking your head. "No, it's fine. I can talk about it, it's been a while. And Val, hm, she put me in therapy for a while. So I could talk about the program, my past, for her records."

"Tell me about her." Wanda asks because this doesn't just sound like a contractor and employee relationship. You sigh, nodding.

"I was 16 when the CIA caught up with me. It was no challenge, of course. But the agent who found me, Valentina Fontaine, had intel on me. At the time, Hydra and Shield shared the same name, so I couldn't tell who was a friend so easily. But Valentina? Oh, she knew a lot. She didn't care about the coats of arms one would wear, she just had a particular interest in special individuals. But she didn't approve of the way I was being enslaved. Barbaric she called. She charmed me, so, so easily. She was always very good with words. Manipulative. She got me to take her to my owner at the time, said she would give me my freedom." You sighed tiredly. "But when I took her to him, the rest of her team revealed themselves. They killed anyone who tried to fight and imprisoned the rest. My master, my boss." You correct yourself as you feel Wanda complains about the title. "He swore he was going to kill me for the betrayal. So Val shot him in front of me, and said that from then on, I owed her my life."

"You don't owe her anything. You know that, don't you?" Wanda retorts immediately, but you move uncomfortably as if the idea was already craved in your mind, and remind Wanda of how Bucky feels about the Winter Soldier and everything Hydra has put him through.

"I can think about it rationally, but practically? No, it's not that simple." You murmur, adjusting yourself to turn your whole body towards Wanda, your fingers playing with hers. "Valentina didn't use me, not like the others did. She bought me a place, gave me a name." You laugh weakly. "Of course, she couldn't say she'd got me in a dirty shed in Madripoor. No, she had to lie. She let me be Lady Fontaine, a distant relative of hers. She paid me very well for any service. I could travel wherever I wanted, have my own teams. I was free."

"As long as you kept working for her."

You swallow, agreeing. "Yeah, as long as I kept doing the job." You mutter. "But for someone like me, the life I had before, the deal was not bad, not at all. The whole sense of freedom. But then... I met you. Suddenly all those expensive things I could buy, all the adrenaline of a new robbery, everything stopped making sense if I didn't have you by my side.”

Wanda smiles tenderly, leaning in to steal a kiss from you. It's quick, but deep enough to make you sigh against her lips.

"Nothing and no one will ever keep us apart again, detka. I promise." Wanda whispers, her arms going to your shoulders so she can hug you and sit on your lap. You melt into the warm sensation, hugging her back with the same intensity.

It takes you by surprise, of course, and a moment later, Wanda hurries away.

"Is something wrong?" But she's already stumbling out of bed, running for the bathroom. "Wanda?" You barely get to your feet and hear her throwing up. First, your body goes into full alert, and then you sigh and relax as you remember: Pregnant girlfriend.

When you reach the door, it slams shut in your face, still shining with red magic. You chuckle.

"Don't come in here. It's disgusting." Wanda grumbles from inside, but you shake your head in disbelief and open the door, reaching up to hold her hair, calming any protests with a caress on her back as Wanda flushes all her lunch down the toilet.

"Can I run you a hot bath?" you suggest, still holding her hair. Wanda nods weakly, and you smile briefly.

You walk away to the bathtub while hoping that her state is enough for her not to notice your racing thoughts about keeping a pregnant woman in those conditions.

-&-

Wanda gets shot in the stomach. You wake up with a jolt.

The motel room is poorly lit, and you realize you've fallen asleep sitting up. Wanda sleeps deeply beside you, and you sigh before leaving the bed.

The bathroom light is the only one on in the room and gives away the previous activities - Wanda's nauseated state for almost the entire night. Perhaps the events were the reason for your nightmares.

Knowing that your girlfriend would easily notice your discomfort and end up waking up due to the nature of her powers, you left the room to get some air, and maybe push those thoughts away.

Given the time of night, the motel was quiet. But the figure smoking on the balcony made you take a deep breath.

"Hi, Nat."

The widow wasn't startled, she'd probably heard you coming out. She mumbled the greeting back, taking a long drag before offering the item to you. Your response was a dismissive nod.

"Sorry about the smoke." She says, and you scratch your eyes for a moment, shrugging in a sign that you weren't really bothered by it.

The next moment, you ask: "Rough night?"

Natasha gives a small laugh. "You have no idea." She retorts, attracting your curiosity. But the concern in her eyes is for Wanda's safety, she realizes, and quickly clarifies: "Nothing affecting your little witch, relax."

Despite feeling a weight leave your shoulders, you adjust your body towards the widow. "I know we're not friends and that this is a situation of necessity, but I'm grateful for the way you're keeping us safe. If there's anything I can do to help you with your problem, please don't hesitate to ask."

The sincerity of the words surprised her for a moment. And then, after another swallow, Nat laughs lightly and comments: "If you have any solution for a broken heart, I'll take it."

You frown, absorbing her words for a moment. Nat almost immediately looks away, busy smoking as if hoping that the cigarette would take away all the pain she was feeling. Your mind is racing with all the things you've been entrusted with about the widow, be it work-related or the little socializing of the last few months.

You don't have enough to know exactly what Natasha is saying, but it occurs to you that she must really need to speak to someone about it, at least enough to mention it to you.

"What happened?"

The next laugh that escapes her is a sad one. "Nothing you can fix it."

"I wasn't intending to anyway." You respond gently, offering her a smile. "I'm just here to listen. If you need to talk to someone."

"I have people to listen to me, thank you." She snaps back, and you sigh tiredly before stepping away from the edge.

You nod and retort; "All right, Romanoff, sorry for intruding." And you turn away, heading for the stairs.

But from the balcony, Nat only lets you go down two steps before saying; "I was engaged. Past tense." And you raise a frown in surprise at her, only for Nat to sigh, looking like she's going to burst into tears at any moment. "Like I said, it's nothing you can help me with."

But you rest your waist on the railing and keep looking up. "I'm sorry, the Captain is an asshole-"

"What?" Nat cuts you off with a grimace. "I wasn't talking about Steve!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed you two-" But Nat bursts into laughter, and you shut up. It's better that she's laughing than crying anyway.

Wiping away tears of laughter, she shakes her head. "I understand why Wanda likes you. Your cluelessness is hilarious."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Nat chuckles briefly, taking one last drag before putting out her cigarette. She rests her elbows on the edge and looks down at you.

"Agent Hill was my fiancée." She explains, more gently than before. "We had a plan. One that didn't involve me switching sides and ending up fleeing across Europe."

You offer Nat a look of understanding. She sighs, looking away so you don't see her tears.

"Let me guess, Miss Hill believes you prioritized the Avengers over the life you planned together?"

Nat chuckles humorlessly, humming in agreement. She looks at you again with watery eyes. "Don't you think she's right?"

You sigh. "I think things are more complicated than that."

"They certainly are." Nat mutters tiredly. She swallows dryly, pushing her own emotions away before looking at you with a certain determination. It's going to be about you now. "How long are you going to keep this up, Y/N?"

It's your turn to sigh and cross your arms. Your gaze wanders away. Natasha decides to press.

"There are hundreds of bounties on you." She says. "You've annoyed too many people."

"I know."

"And Wanda needs to see a doctor-"

"Natalia." You cut her off, and her given name catches her off guard. She falls silent, staring at you intently. You sigh. “"I'll go where Wanda goes. No more leaving. I'm tired of running away."

Natasha remains quiet and thoughtful for a long moment. When she suddenly laughs dryly and offers you the cigarette again, you think it's best to accept.

"I think I just got Maria's point." She mumbles in annoyance, and you're a little taken aback by the tears in her eyes. But you try to take a drag on the cigarette, and start coughing, and it works to make Nat laugh and help you instead of crying. She takes the cigarette back, and gives you one last pat on the back, her hand staying in place instead of moving away. "That girl loves you with all her heart, Y/N. She'll follow you if you ask her to, so I beg you, make your decisions with your head, not your heart. Don't put her in danger that you can't protect her from."

You look at Nat. "Do you think that's what you're doing for Maria? Protecting her?"

"This isn't about Maria and me."

But you pull away from Nat's touch, looking at her hard. "I think it is." You insist seriously. "I can't protect Wanda from anything, and I don't need to. She's infinitely more powerful than I am. And I certainly won't be plotting decisions without her. If she decides to leave with me, that's her choice. Not any of yours, and maybe that's the problem with the Avengers, huh? You have a bad habit of putting your members in no-win situations."

Nat forces a smile. "Yes, we're the ones who are wrong not to want Wanda running around with a thief." She ironizes it, and you swallow, your gaze tired and disappointed. Nat is upset, and well, you're the easiest target here. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. "Excuse me, for not wanting her in Madripoor, surrounded by the Chinese Mob!"

You sniffle lightly, shaking your head. "Do you know who's in Madripoor, Natalia? Your old colleague, Sharon Carter. The one who sacrificed her career for what you and Steve did. The one who was abandoned by you two without hesitation. Just like Clint did it, for whom Wanda's twin brother died and for whom she accepted this position. He abandoned her without looking back. Because that's what the Avengers do for each other, isn't it?" you retort angrily. "But I am the villain. I'm the one who stays and takes care of Wanda no matter what and makes her my priority, and I'm still the wrong one. Even though I'm not the one who let her end up in a fucking straitjacket, locked up like an animal!"

You don't realize you're screaming, but for a whole moment, all you can see is that damn newspaper photo of how Wanda looked, how she was captured. Nat's cheeks are wet, but she doesn't lose her posture.

You chuckle humorlessly. "You've got a damn nerve acting like you're better than me, Romanoff. Especially you."

"Don't go there." She warns with a dangerous look, but you shake your head.

"What would be the point?" You retort. "I'm over the past, but I can't say the same for you. You're pushing Agent Hill away because you're afraid of who you were, you're afraid that anger is still there. You're not giving Maria the choice to love you completely. And I'm not going to make the same mistake with Wanda."

With one last hard look at Nat, you turn to leave. Deciding that you need to take a walk and calm your nerves before going back to your room.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff series

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elizabethwritesmen · 3 months

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The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 1 : July 2, 2022

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: you obviously weren’t expecting someone to kidnap you after your shift at the bar that night. even moreso, you weren’t expecting them to want to kill you. but the thing you weren’t expecting the most was the masked man who saved you.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, kidnapping, violence, talk of unaliving the reader, dark themes throughout this whole series, leg injury, talk of being tied up and drugged, i think that’s everything but let me know if i missed something!

a/n: this chapter is basically the prologue, so it’s super short but gives necessary background info (:

series masterlist

July 2, 2022

I don’t remember much. In fact, I don’t remember anything clearly after being taken.

What had happened was, I was walking to my car after my shift at the bar ended. I happened to be parked on the side, in the alley. There, three men were waiting for me. Waiting to take me.

I put up a fight, really and truly, I did. I think I even gave them a run for their money considering they were all quite large compared to me. I punched, and scratched, and bit what I could. But they overpowered me, and one of them hit me on the head with something. Who knows what? Doesn’t matter.

Since then, I’d been fading in and out of consciousness. The first time was on the ride there. I’d been shoved in the back of a van with several boxes, wedged in between them like some kind of cargo. The driver hit a turn way too sharp and slung one of them onto its side, the contents emptying onto me. One of the things in there was a small safe with sharp edges. It slammed into my ankle, breaking the skin and cutting deep. I instantly woke up, screaming, red hot pain searing through my entire leg, and they pulled over somewhere. One of them crawled into the back with me, and I tried to resist him but I was tied up with my arms behind my back. I even kicked at him, but there was only so much I could do with one good foot.

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled, taking a syringe out of his pocket and forcefully twisting me so he could shove it into my arm.

The next time, I was in a warehouse. Everything was dark and blurry, shapes fading together. I felt… wrong. Woozy, like I’d been drinking. Then I momentarily remembered the syringe and realized that thought wasn’t too far off. There was probably something in my system to keep me docile. That only lasted for a second before I was out again. Then again I just barely faded into a conversation two men I’d not yet seen were having in front of me.

“We’ve got to wait until the 4th or it won’t work,” one raised his voice at the other, tensions high.

“I say we kill the bitch now. She’ll be worth just as much dead as she will be alive.”

“You don’t know that!”

Everything went black again. I couldn’t even manage to panic about the fact that I was probably going to die. What day did I get snatched? I thought it was the 30th of June. How long had I been there?

I don’t remember waking up again at all, until a loud sound rocked the building. My eyes cracked open, vision still shaky, to see men rushing in. A fight ensued between them and my many captors. I watched as intently as I could manage as they took each one of them down, police arresting them all.

A man rushed my way. I couldn’t see him clearly until he was right in front of me, tall and large and… masked.

Strange.

I tried to scoot away from him, scared he was going to hurt me in my drugged up state, and he spoke softly as not to frighten me further.

“It’s okay, I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” I stayed wary, eyes focusing in on him. I had to focus in on him. If I didn’t, he just looked like a blob. “They’ve got you fucked up good,” he commented, then asked, “Will you let me cut off these ropes?”

I nodded and he leaned down, slicing through the binds on my ankles, careful of the wound that was looking worse for wear from being ignored. “Can you stand?” He asked, and when I didn’t respond, he tutted. “Let’s try.” He picked me up from under my arms, placing me on my feet.

Fuck if that wasn’t the worst pain I’d ever felt. I cried out as pressure was placed, falling into him in the least graceful way possible. His arms secured themselves around me, placing me gently back on the ground.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to stand,” he hummed, kneeling behind me to cut the ropes off of my hands. I relaxed my entire body, relieved to have mobility back. “Put this on,” he commanded, slipping his jacket off and handing it to me. I furrowed my brows, looking down to see my clothes were in tatters, ripped to shreds just about. The low cut T shirt with my work’s logo on it was completely open and the matching skirt was half off. My bra and panties were on full display, light hitting the lace perfectly. I gasped, grabbing the warm fabric from him and trying to put it on. I was too weak, though, so he had to do it for me. He zipped it up, and once he was satisfied with my modesty, he hauled me into his arms, carrying me out of the building. I started to slip out of consciousness again, my mind still foggy from whatever was in my veins. The last thing I remembered seeing was him, walking away.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley #ghost x reader series

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throatgoatwill · 4 days

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I've always asked myself how (realistically) a hannibal and will kiss scene would be like in the actual series. how would bryan make it work as naturally and organically as their relationship's development through the seasons.

I'd never arrived at an answer that seemed right to me, and even reached the point of thinking a kiss scene wouldn't add much because their dynamic was already miles beyond such a thing. BUT. I think I just stumbled upon the best answer. At least to me. Idk, it just really synced with my interpretations of their love.

Ok so i've just watched hannibal (2001) and if you haven't already, I really recommend you to do so!!! bryan put SO many references to it on the series, and it's just incredibly satisfying to connect the dots in regards of the creative process of the series. - that said, the majority of the references that made their way into the show, were dialogues between hannibal and clarice, wich later became some of our favorite hannigram scenes.

and at the very final scenes of the movie, I was caught completely of guard by clarice and hannibal's kiss, and not only because of the kiss itself, but the whole context and build up towards it, and the events that followed. It was fucking perfect. And it really hurt me to wonder if bryan was planning to recreate that scene with hannibal and will, because it would fit SO WELL..... I swear, it would've been beautiful and even more heartbreaking than the original.

Especially because of these specific lines:

"Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me, 'Stop. If you loved me, you'd stop'?"

"Not in a thousand years."

"Not in a thousand years... that's my girl."

COULD WE EVEN SURVIVE SUCH THING AS HANNIBAL SAYING THOSE WORDS TO WILL??? LIKE???? "...That's my boy." ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEE.

And it gets even fucking better because, later, when clarice cuffs their hands together to prevent hannibal from running away, he threatens to cut of her hand, but just at the very last second before doing so, he ponders quickly, a single tear making it's way across his cheek as he says "this is really gonna hurt." and he follows up by amputating his own hand.

and we just know he is actually talking about being separated from her again, the pain it would inflict on him.

and if bryan had had the time to recreate that and adapt it to hannibal and will, that line would be about how it would hurt both of them, as it is: they're conjoined, not sure if either could survive separation.

here's the entire scene if you got curious, I really recommend watching it, it's beautifully made.

#my head was just blown away by this scene sorry #i can perfectly picture mads and hugh in it #it would've been perfect #im grieving #hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #clarice starling #hannibal 2001

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talesofesther · 5 months

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tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.

A/N: Yes, this is chapter one. Yes, there are going to be more chapters. But one important thing to keep in mind with this particular series, is that the updates will not have a fixed schedule. This is a story I will update whenever I have time to write in between my other projects. Anyhow, I do hope you enjoy this random idea I had. <3

Word count: 4,2k

Masterlist

Fury came looking for you as a fail-safe. That was the simple way of putting it.

One of S.H.I.E.L.D's facilities had recently been attacked by someone who came from outside of your world; he'd taken what Fury called the Tesseract, twisted the minds of Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig, and worst of all, threatened to take over Earth. So when Fury came knocking on your door, on a rainy Saturday, you didn't have many options other than agreeing.

Rain pattered on the windows of your small apartment, the weather was rather cold today. You picked up two mugs from the cabinet, placed a bag of tea on each, and added hot water.

"I need you with me," Fury told you, taking the mug you handed to him.

You sighed, taking a seat on the armchair of your living room, "you're putting together a group of heroes. I'm not a fighter, uncle Fury, you know that."

"And I'm not asking you to be," he shook his head softly, leaning forward to place his mug on the coffee table after he took a sip, "if anything, I'll make sure to keep you away from any fights." He looked at you for a beat, and then; "but Loki has messed with the mind of one of my best agents, I cannot take that risk again, and you're the only one who can make sure it doesn't happen. Or fix it, if it does."

With that, you couldn't argue.

Your powers were something you had never asked for, never wanted, they simply happened. Your fourteen-year-old self woke up one day being able to pry into people's minds at will. You could feel their feelings if you wanted to, search recent memories if you focused long enough, and occasionally, do or fix much heavier damage. The full extent of what you could do was still somewhat of a mystery, now and then you caught yourself doing or feeling something new; just like that day when a stray cat had scared the shit out of you and you ended up exploding the can of soda on your hand.

After that incident a couple of years back, you had agreed to let S.H.I.E.L.D. study you just long enough to find out you had something along the lines of psychokinetic and telepathic abilities. Fury then had also told you that your big heart had given you empathic abilities as well; it was intended as a lighthearted joke, but you weren't so sure it was a joke anymore.

Because right now, you could feel hints of Fury's desperation just by looking at him. You nodded, "Yeah, alright. Give me a few minutes to pack."

─── ·❆· ───

S.H.I.E.L.D's Helicarrier was impressive, to say the least. It was an enormous aircraft that could literally disappear in a matter of seconds. Your nerves were still high even though you'd been aboard for a few days.

The main control room was the heart of the hive, so to speak. The place where most agents walked back and forth between the rows of computers, all overlooking the massive glass windows at the front of the aircraft. You stood just behind Fury's main control panels, leaning back on the big glass table. "Will Tony be coming too?" Your eyes roamed over the hustle and bustle of agents around you.

"He will," Fury didn't take his eyes off of the screens as he spoke, "was supposed to arrive with agent Romanoff, but we all know he likes his entrances."

A fond chuckle escaped you. Tony was a friend, you'd met him a few times because of Fury, he'd been a great help in figuring out your… condition, and you kept close contact with him ever since.

Out of the big windows in front of you, you watched as the ocean slowly drifted from view the higher you went into the sky. You could feel the familiar tingle in your stomach as you gained altitude fast. Maria Hill approached Fury not long after, informing him you were high enough to disappear, and so you did.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention and you turned around to see Natasha, Steve, and Doctor Banner walking in. A small frown appeared on your features when Steve handed ten dollars to Fury, but you didn't comment on it.

"Doctor Banner," Fury walked up and extended his hand for Bruce to shake, "thank you for coming."

The scientist looked around with the eyes of someone who hadn't known real peace in a while. You could feel a heavy wave of apprehension and uncertainty coming from him. "Thanks for asking nicely," he answered.

As they spoke, you walked over to Natasha, a small smile coming to your lips, "hey Nat."

Her green eyes lit up as soon as they caught sight of you, she was already opening her arms to pull you into a hug. "Hey, how have you been?"

You hugged her back just as tight, swinging gently from one side to the other. "Alright, you?"

"Well enough," she pulled away with a smirk already on her features and bumped your shoulder with her fist. "It's nice to have you around for a change, even if it's because the world is at risk."

You raised your hands in a half-hearted gesture of surrender while biting back a chuckle, "Point taken, I promise to visit more."

Fury called for your name and you turned to him, "I don't think you've been properly introduced to Doctor Banner." He gestured to his side and you reached out to shake Bruce's hand with a polite smile. "Banner, this is my niece."

Still holding onto your hand, he raised his eyebrows in a mix of excitement and surprise. "The telepath?" He looked from you to Fury.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "That's me." You wondered if the people here saw you as one of the heroes too, which of course, you were not.

"I've read your file, the range of your abilities is remarkable."

Fury placed a hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "Why don't you show Doctor Banner the lab he'll be working on? You can entertain his curiosity then."

"Of course," you buried your hands in your pockets as you tilted your head towards the door, "follow me, Doc."

The laboratory was like a playground for scientists. Filled with all the kinds of machines and computers one could hope for, surrounded by bright white walls and even brighter artificial lights that made your eyes hurt.

As the night stretched on you ended up hanging back with Bruce in his lab. His interest in your abilities didn't die down, but you found that speaking with him about it turned out to be quite easy. He was very smart, there was no doubt about that, having extensive knowledge in areas you didn't even know existed. But he was also kind.

It didn't take long for Fury to come to inform you that they had gotten a hit on Loki's location, Germany. You shared a look with Bruce then, knowing that all there was to do now, was wait.

─── ·❆· ───

"So you can just tell what everyone is feeling all the time, and manipulate those very feelings if you want?" Bruce leaned back on one of the workstations, a look of pure bewilderment in his eyes.

You chuckled, pushing yourself up and sitting on top of one of the desks. "Well, kind of. I can feel emotions if I want to, yes. Memories even, if I can focus on the person long enough. But the manipulating part is trickier," you tried to explain to the best of your abilities, fumbling with the sleeves of your black cardigan. "I can't… take away people's emotions, feelings, but I can ease them. Dull anger, or sadness, for example. But Fury believes that if there's something else intruding on someone's mind, I'd be able to counter it. That's why I'm here."

"That's fascinating," Bruce scratched his chin in thought, "it's almost like a mix of telepathy and empathy."

You hummed, "That's been my experience, yeah."

"What about the…" Bruce gestured around, and somehow you knew exactly what he was talking about.

A smirk came to your lips. You lifted your hand, and tiny white sparks danced between your fingertips, they were barely there, looking almost like a trick of the light. Suddenly the glasses that had been resting on top of Bruce's head flew to your grasp.

A genuine laugh escaped him while he muttered; "remarkable". You couldn't help but join him as you handed him back his glasses. It felt… nice, to have someone genuinely, innocently appreciating what you could do.

Suddenly, the sight of several guards walking past the laboratory's windows caught both of your attention. In the middle of them walked a man with slick black hair, wearing some sort of armor in black, green, and golden, and a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked at you.

Your gaze locked with his for a mere second, and a gasp fell past your lips as you took half a step back. Your heart was in your throat, because even through the glass windows, you could feel an immense pain squeezing your chest and suffocating your lungs. There was raw anger there too, desperation, loss. But the pain overpowered them all. And they came from him. Loki.

You gulped, forcing your gaze away so you had a chance to breathe. "They caught him," you mumbled, still feeling lightheaded from the punch he'd just dealt to your soul.

"Yeah, they did." Bruce's voice sounded far away still.

─── ·❆· ───

Loki wasn't the only new arrival, his brother Thor was also here.

You decided to hang back while everyone discussed how to proceed, leaning against the wall of the main control room as they sat around the glass table. From the camera images displayed on the screens, you could see Loki speaking with Fury, from inside the glass cage that wasn't quite built for him; he spoke with a tone of superiority that sounded like a defense.

Thor explained something about Loki having an alien army he would bring to Earth, and that he was trying to build another portal with the help of Doctor Selvig. You heard bits and pieces, after all, you weren't here to strategize attacks. Instead, your mind drifted to what you'd felt when you briefly locked gazes with Loki. His mind seemed… messy; as if he wasn't quite the only one there.

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki." You heard Banner say. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You could smell crazy on him."

"Have care how you speak." Thor spoke up, "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother."

"You mean he's never been like this before?" You finally spoke up, pushing yourself away from the wall and taking a few steps towards Thor. Your voice drew the eyes of everyone in the room for an instant. "That he's not himself?"

"Yes, Loki has always been one for mischief but never like this. My brother is not evil." The god explained.

"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha added, raising an eyebrow at Thor.

"He's… adopted."

"I think you might be right, about him being beyond reason," you walked up to stay beside Thor, "when they brought him in I could briefly connect with his mind and… I don't know, it wasn't right."

"You mean to say he's been enchanted?" Thor looked down at you, sparks of hope dancing around him.

You could feel everyone's unwavering gaze on you as well. Your eyebrows scrunched in thought and you fumbled with your sleeves to ease the nervousness. "Kind of, yes. I felt as if he wasn't the only one in his own mind, there was something else there, twisting his thoughts and drive." You glanced up at Thor and then at your teammates around the table, "I may be able to fix it."

A rather loud call of your name captured your attention then. You turned around to see Tony Stark walking in, along with Phil Coulson.

"You always did have a heart of gold, picking up strays and insisting on fixing broken things," the billionaire said with a smile, walking up to you in that smug way only he could pull off, as he already opened his arms.

You mimicked his smile, naturally falling into his hug.

"How have you been, kid?" Tony asked while rubbing your back. He pulled away and kept a hand on your shoulder.

"Pretty good, considering an Asgardian god decided to invade my planet." You smirked back at him, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

"And now you're playing the I can fix him card, is that what I'm gathering here?" Tony pointed a finger at you, comically narrowing his eyes.

You sighed, averting his gaze, "I'm serious, Tony. If there's something invading his mind, don't you think I'd be able to counter it? That's- that's the whole reason why I'm even here."

"I think," Tony began, "you'd be able to do that, and much more. If you actually trained your abilities like I suggested-"

A groan escaped you.

"But you haven't done that, so it's a shot in the dark." He shrugged.

"If there is a chance to help my brother, I would take it," Thor spoke up, looking around to gauge everyone's reactions.

"And what if there isn't?" Steve asked, gesturing with his hands, "You said it yourself, you can't be sure. Is this a risk we're willing to take?"

"We won't be taking risks," you were quick to reassure him, taking a step forward so you were able to lean your hands on the glass table. "All I want is a chance to speak with him, nothing more for now."

"Absolutely not." Fury walked in, his steps large and meaningful as he walked up to stand before you. "You are not getting anywhere near that lunatic."

"I can accompany her to assure her safety," Thor offered.

"Thank you, Thor, but I need to go alone." You said, then turned to look up at Fury. "You called me here to help. Let me help."

Fury tilted his head, an annoyed frown coming to his lips. You knew you'd won.

"He's in pain. So much that I could feel it through the glass windows of the lab, uncle. He's not alone in his own mind. I just wanna talk to him." You pleaded. Why you suddenly cared so much about the very person who was threatening your home, you didn't know. Maybe you did have a heart that was too big for your own good.

Fury stole a single glance towards Stark, and after the latter nodded, he turned back to you. "Five minutes," he leaned just a tad closer, looking you straight in the eyes, "nothing more."

─── ·❆· ───

You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, held it in your lungs, and then exhaled. You stared at the door that led to Loki's cell, giving yourself yet another pep talk. And then you pushed it open.

The round, glass cage was somewhat intimidating to look at. Built to contain and to kill, if needed. The artificial lights inside were bright, a contrast to the metal walls of the outside. There was a single bench in the back of the cage, but other than that, it was bare.

Loki had his back turned to you as he paced from one side to the other, hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for something. His black and green attire stood out under the blinding lights.

Your steps were slow and quiet, you couldn't deny the racing of your heart, punching against your ribs in fear and anticipation—yet you kept an emotionless facade.

You could tell the exact moment that Loki felt your presence. He stopped pacing, waiting for a beat until, ever so slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes were ice cold, a pale blue that made you shiver; his smirk was nothing short of devilish, worthy of a person who knew held all the cards in his hands. Loki looked at you up and down, and took a few steps forward so he stood right against the glass, as close as he could be to you. His gaze never once wavered.

"And who would you be?"

Silent. You kept silent for several moments. The nails you previously had piercing the skin of your palm in nervousness loosened their grip, a soft breath went past your lips, and your shoulders relaxed.

No, there was no reason for you to be afraid of him. Well, that would be an understatement. After all, you could easily sense the raw power and magic flowing through his veins. But that didn't instill fear in you, and neither did his empty threats. Because right now, as you finally looked him straight in the eyes, you easily slipped into his mind, his subconscious, his memories, and feelings.

More than anything, he was hurt; had been bleeding for long. But you were glad to confirm your suspicions, he was not alone in his mind; there was a plague in him, twisting and piercing into old wounds, worsening what was already there; it drove his anger and instilled fear and desperation in him for what would happen if he failed.

Looking into his eyes, you didn't feel fear. You felt sympathy.

At last, when Loki had started to look at you with a deep frown, you told him your name.

"Agent Barton hasn't told me about you." Loki's eyes roamed your features, undoubtedly determining if you were harmless or not.

"I'm afraid we aren't that close," you told him simply, keeping your voice gentle.

A low chuckle escaped Loki's lips then, "Did you come here simply by imprudent curiosity then?" He raised his chin higher. "Have you any idea who stands before you?"

You pursed your lips and took a step closer to him. His words sounded a little muffled to your ears as you struggled to focus. There was a faint burning sensation behind your eyes, a pressure in your head that spread to your entire body until it reached your fingertips. It was both familiar and unfamiliar. You'd never used your powers to this extent.

Loki had a strong mind, there was no doubt about that. Yet briefly, you could catch glimpses, a blurred array of memories even Loki tried to push away. You watched his fall from Asgard. His descent to what he thought, hoped would be the end. Until he was found. And then there were screams of pain and cries for help that nobody answered until he was forced to give up. Nothing was clear, everything twisted and scrambled, but enough to snatch your breath away and hold your heart in a vice grip.

He felt it, you know he did. The gentle whispers of you in his mind. You could tell the exact moment. All emotion and color drained from Loki's face, he took several steps back and away from you. For the first time, he wore an expression other than smug and confident. His bright eyes were wide and glimmering under the artificial lights, lips hovering open and quivering. It was a blink, a fraction of a second and then he was back in control.

"How dare you?!" He all but growled, fists closed tightly on either side of his body as erratic breaths went past his lips and nostrils. "Who do you think you are to try and pry into my mind?"

You felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat as you gulped, your vision went a little blurry. You shouldn't be feeling this way for someone who had literally threatened your home, but all you could hear right now was that same voice of his, begging for mercy.

Without a physical connection, Loki was able to keep you out of his mind pretty easily.

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes for a beat to recompose. You looked up at him then, unable to help the softness of your features. "What happened to you?"

Loki hesitated, even though he tried to hide it. He blinked, stumbling over his words; "I think you should be more worried about what I will do to you and everyone you've ever loved, you insolent, pathetic mortal."

His threats were emptier than you thought they would be. He felt exposed and was desperately trying to defend himself.

You shifted your gaze to the cameras around the room, biting into your cheek while you considered just how stupid and reckless it was what you were about to do. With your mind, you turned the lock on the door you'd just come from. In one swift stride forward, you were able to flatten your palm against the glass walls that held Loki; and with just a bit of struggle, you had him pushed and pinned against the bench on the far side of the cage.

"What do you think you're doing?" Loki snapped, he fought against the invisible force holding him, trying to get up and lift his hands, but to no avail. "Release me this instant."

"Sorry," you walked backward, keeping your eyes on him until you reached the control panel and pushed the button that opened the glass cage, "can't do that."

"If you think for one minute that your sorry excuse of magic can hold me down-"

"I know I can't." You told him as you carefully walked inside with him. He was strong, much stronger than you, and sooner or later he'd overpower you. "Not for long at least." You stood in front of him, looking down at his enraged form sitting down on the bench. "But maybe just long enough."

Right now, as Loki looked up at you with nothing but anger in his cold eyes, his lips in a thin line, and his eyebrows pulled together; you could say you felt a little scared.

Slowly, you raised both hands. Your fingers shook as you halted your movements just short of touching him. "I promise I just want to help you," you told him quietly, your eyes never leaving his.

"I will make you regret ever walking into this room," Loki spoke through gritted teeth, the muscles on his neck straining as he tried to break free.

"Maybe," you breathed, struggling to keep him in place, before unceremoniously cupping both his cheeks with your hands.

Loki opened his lips to, most likely, throw another insult at you, yet his words died in his mouth.

With your skin touching his, your soul entangling with his, you were finally able to enter his mind freely. You closed your eyes and made quick work of dissipating the plague infesting his brain, severing the connection he had with the creature that had tortured him, and freeing his subconscious from its influence and enchantment. It was harder than you wished and easier than you expected, pulling at the strings of your heart while you worked your power through him, but it was done. Loki's body was still healing from what they'd done to him, and now his mind would follow.

You also couldn't hold yourself back from dulling his pain and anger while you were at it. Trying to offer just a bit of peace to his troubled soul.

You opened your eyes again with a heavy gasp escaping your lips. Your lungs lacked air and you could taste copper on your lips. Blinking several times, you took a single glimpse at your faded reflection on the glass walls and noticed that a steady line of blood was trickling down your nose. You'd nearly gone past your limits.

With your hands still holding onto Loki, you risked a look down at him.

It was like a wave washing to shore, soft and calm after a heavy storm. His eyes slowly faded from a pale blue to a gentle green, glistening under the light, pupils blown wide as he kept his gaze fixed on you. A soft breath went past his lips and his eyebrows softened, it was as if for a brief moment he forgot where he was, and simply basked in the absolute relief of having his mind finally free. He stood bare before you.

A single tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your thumb. You brushed it away tenderly, and you thought he almost leaned into your touch. He blinked lazily then, and you saw his walls gradually coming back up.

You felt lightheaded, and with Loki coming back to himself, you took it as your cue to leave him.

Stumbling on your feet, you made your way out. You pushed the button and closed the glass door again.

Loki hadn't moved, even though you were not holding him in place anymore. He stayed seated, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bench and kept his gaze ahead, unfocused.

Once again, you touched the glass wall with your fingertips. It was indeed pathetic, that you felt a surge of protectiveness, of worry even, for the god who had threatened your planet.

"For what it's worth," you began quietly.

Loki's eyes drifted up to your face. His expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through." With that, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, and left.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @arunabrak @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune

@ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter @navs-bhat @creat0r-cat @cinnamonbambii @anundyingfidelity @creationcitystreet-em @or-was-it-just-a-dream @agustdpeach @oreo-cream @jollydeckk @agent-tempest @spidermantaylorsversion @127djarin @imthedoctorlove @duckwithsunglasses @lokidokieokie @cookieeecutter @anuncalledbridge

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader #tangle me in all your broken pieces

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jiminrings · 4 months

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in vain aka sugar baby (but not really) jungkook drabble series sneak peek

pairing: jungkook x reader

glimpse: jungkook likes the finer things in life, and you don’t like being lonely.

alternatively, jungkook’s your sugar baby — except the only thing he needs to do to get paid is to be your friend.

“Nope. No sex at all. No kisses or hugs or anything like that.”

A sense of pride almost fills Jungkook, almost, when he sees Namjoon’s face fall and twist both in amazement and confusion. It’s not that Jungkook thinks he’s better — he already knows it himself. He feels proud to have proved Namjoon wrong when he said it to his face that absolutely no one would pay for his snotty personality.

“Then how come you’re her sugar baby?” Namjoon asks, his hunger for the pasta he ordered (and waited for twenty minutes to arrive) subsiding. He doesn’t get it at all, not one single bit of him believing that Jungkook landed a sugar mommy that simply just wants him to be there.

Jungkook shrugs as if it’s the easiest thing to answer, the arrogance flowing through him like the breeze that goes through the door when you open it. Namjoon’s eyes turn out of instinct and while he had paid no attention to you initially, he does now when you’re walking towards them and his friend can’t see to shut up.

“I’m just there for company. She’s just alone and weird, I guess.”

Namjoon nudges him to stay still and stop talking with everything he could muster in one simple shove to his side, his mumbling too quiet for someone as dense as Jungkook to understand.

“What did you say?” Jungkook asks out-loud as if it pains him to not turn every single thought in his head into a literal speech bubble, turning his head abruptly. He finds himself face-to-face with you, only hovering awkwardly after catching wind of what he just said.

Namjoon, however, doesn’t even seem to meet his eyes — neither does Jungkook with yours. He turns back to his friend without a single acknowledgement to you, continuing to run his mouth as if you weren’t there in the first place.

“What are you so worried for?” he furrows his brows, going back to his laptop as he types gibberish to make it seem like he’s doing something important. He’s not bothered — not at all. “Y/N already knows I don’t need her like that. I’m only after her money, not her.”

The lump that appears in your throat is automatic because Jungkook is like this and you know it. He’s bumped into your “friends” (the better term would be acquaintances-I’ve-made-emptily-out-of-social-obligation) a few times already and he’s never been this rash with you, yet the first time that you see him with his friend, he makes you feel the smallest that you’ve ever been.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Watch your fucking manners,” Namjoon grits immediately, the lack of Jungkook’s respect for you and perhaps for everyone else grating his ears. He clears his throat and straightens himself, much to his friend’s annoyance, before putting his hand out. “H-hi. I’m Namjoon, Jungkook’s friend.”

“Hi, Namjoon,” you greet courteously, your embarrassment burning away the longer that you’re distracted from how Jungkook’s regard for you to your face and to everyone else is the same. He’s always been transparent with you, unable to sugarcoat his words.

Simply put, Jungkook doesn’t like you. He means it when he says it to you casually right after you crack a joke in the middle of watching a movie, and he means it when he’s talking behind your back to Namjoon.

“Why are you here?” Jungkook asks, the bored look on his face striking right through you. You feel alone again despite being in a café full of people; even when you’re faced with him.

“I was thinking we could maybe get dinner together?” you ask even if it takes up all the remaining courage in you, the majority of it consumed when you put an effort into dressing yourself up today — for him.

“Busy,” Jungkook huffs, resting his chin on his palm. He stays seated throughout while you’re just standing there, waiting to have a shred of significant acknowledgement. “Can I have some money to get dinner with Namjoon instead?”

You shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not at all. Because while Jungkook isn’t consistent on keeping his end of the bargain, you keep yours loyally. You don’t want to be at fault and the raving urge in you to always keep people appeased overtakes you.

“Oh,” you mumble in realization, fumbling to open your bag and fish for your wallet. “Y-yeah, yeah. Sure.”

On the other hand, Namjoon can’t resist any longer. He physically can’t contain himself anymore, the breath that he’s been holding finally giving out because he can’t bear to see you like this because of Jungkook.

“Actually, count me out,” he interjects, ignoring the offended gasp he gets. He turns to you much more gently compared to the vitriol he has for Jungkook. “Are you, uhm — do you still need someone to eat dinner with… Miss Y/N?” he asks politely, wringing his hands together underneath the table.

Your mouth dries at his address for you and even more at his politeness, the realization that Namjoon’s actually kind to you despite only meeting you minutes ago hitting you belatedly. “I-… I do, yeah. But you don’t have to-…”

“No, no! I insist,” he scrambles to get out of his seat, intentionally hitting Jungkook on the bicep as he slings his backpack on his shoulder. “Some people don’t do their jobs correctly and could be a total asshole at that.”

Jungkook scowls at what’s clearly the dig for him, his annoyance running deep when you stay frozen.

Deeper when you snap out of it and nod your head shyly, and the deepest when you actually leave him.

It seems like fate’s fucking with him because as much as he should feel elated that your weekly transfer to him comes in now of all times, he doesn’t at all. He feels bad and he doesn’t ever feel that way. He’s never been left before; not like this at the very least.

You whisper to Namjoon on the way out, the reminder that you were embarrassed in front of him and probably to the curious patrons in the café staying vivid in your mind. “I’ll pay you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“You don’t have to at all, miss. I promise,” Namjoon assures you as he opens the door for you, the two of you waiting side by side as you wait for your driver to go around back. He respects you but he’s comfortable already; enough to open up out of the blue. “You know, I’ve had… a sugar mommy in the past. You’re Jungkook’s first and really, I apologize for how rude he is,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re not making him jump through hoops or force him into doing things or anything like that. All you’re asking for is companionship — I’m sorry that he’s bad at it.”

It stays quiet between the two of you until you find the right words that won’t make you want to crumple to the pavement out of shame.

“You don’t have to apologize in behalf of him.”

“I feel like I need to,” he trails, an uneasy chuckle leaving him. “Jungkook doesn’t ever apologize for anything.”

“Oh.”

The knot in your throat untangled minutes ago but it comes back again, this time for less pitiful reasons. “You’re really nice, Namjoon. Please tell me if you ever need anything,” your breath hitches in fear of overstepping, yet you push through anyway. “I know you’re already familiar with this uhm, this situation — and I’m still sorry for asking-! But do you… need money?”

Namjoon laughs heartily, genuinely — not mockingly like how Jungkook does.

“Yes, I need money,” he confirms breathlessly in between chuckles, sneaking a smile from your lips. “But I’d much rather give you companionship for free. I bet you’re already blowing through money with Jungkook who doesn’t even say thank you for anything.”

“Jungkook’s my first sugar baby too,” you meekly counter, shrugging your shoulders. You feel oddly brave in a burst of energy, partially influenced by how Namjoon didn’t even skip a beat from preventing Jungkook to make an even bigger fool out of you. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having two sugar babies right?”

Out of the entire time that Namjoon’s been with you, he’s actually speechless for once and not the other way around.

While Namjoon seriously considers your offer though, Jungkook stews in his own anger. It’s too potent and too irrational, he thinks it might be jealousy.

dun dun DUNNNNN!!! so far, there are five chapters of IV up :D if u wanna read them now + gain early access to general fics + read exclusive content — subscribe to my patreon :D

also, to get ahead of questions, i'm not yet sure if i'll also post in vain here on tumblr :O but IF i do though, it'll be around mid-2024!! :D

#sneak peek

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little-diable · 6 months

Text

A word of advice – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 1/?)

Y'all voted for this series, so here we go. I promise there will be lots of smut (you know me), but please show some love to this chapter which has no smut in it just yet. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: eventual smut, eventual CM violence, Aaron is an asshole here, authority kink, university professor x student relationship, each chapter will have its own warnings, for this one no warnings needed tho

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (1.6k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

Chapter Two

With her eyes set on her phone, (y/n) entered the coffee shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled her nostrils, a comforting sensation that left her relaxing for a few seconds, though without ever taking her eyes off her phone screen. Her eyes kept following the sentences she had read numerous times in the past week, trying to memorise every single word, forcing the readings into her aching head.

It was the first week of the new semester, and while she had enrolled in a few classes with professors that were all too familiar with her, she had almost cried in excitement as she had stumbled upon the course “Profiling 101” – with none other than Aaron Hotchner as a professor. Without even thinking twice (y/n) had instantly enrolled in the class, filled with a giddiness she hadn’t felt in months, all too excited about meeting the agent she had been admiring for years.

(Y/n) could still remember the first talk he had given at her university, accompanied by Spencer Reid and David Rossi, men (y/n) had always looked up to, admiring their knowledge, their work. It still felt too good to be true that she finally got the chance to enrol in Aaron Hotchner’s class, needing to put on her best act, silently hoping that she’d manage to catch his attention.

She was too deep in thought to spare her surroundings any mind, still focused on her reading, not noticing the tall man standing behind her, impatiently waiting for (y/n) to keep on moving, to finally tell the barista her order.

“Excuse me?” His raspy, harsh voice shook her from her thoughts, blinking a few times before her eyes found his coffee coloured ones. A silent gasp left (y/n) as she realised that none other than Aaron Hotchner himself was standing behind her, staring her down as if she was a criminal he was about to interrogate. “You’re wasting our time here, could you please move along? And please, try to start your readings for my class earlier and not only an hour before class starts.”

Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak up, unable to explain to the man she had always looked up to that she was only trying to reread the texts, that it wasn’t the first time she was looking at it. But (y/n) only turned away from him, turning towards the woman behind the counter who shot her a comforting smile, all too aware of the harsh words the tall, brooding man had just spoken.

(Y/n) didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving her, speaking the same order she always got. Her heart was clenching in her chest, pounding with pain and embarrassment, forcing her blood to rush through her veins even faster than before, ears ringing in annoyance. With her eyes staring stoically ahead, she watched the woman prepare her order, pushing it closer to (y/n) as soon as she was done.

By the time (y/n) had reached for her order anger had managed to arise in her system, flushing through her body with quick steps, forcing her lips to part before her mind could even catch up with what she was about to say, “A word of advice, professor Hotchner. If you want your students to respect you, you shouldn’t treat them like you’re the biggest asshole they’ll meet on campus.”

Before Aaron could even try to pierce a reply together, staring at her with surprise tugging on his features, (y/n) had turned from him, stepping out of the coffee shop with a deep exhale of the breath she had been holding. The second the cold October air stroked along her frame, teasing her warm cheeks, (y/n) allowed her disappointment to thump through her veins, wondering if he was always this rude to other people or if she had just been the unlucky one to be met with his bad mood today.

……

If there was one thing (y/n) was known for, it was sitting in the first few rows, scribbling down every word her professors spoke. She was determined, set on her good grades, on the career path she had wanted to follow ever since high school. Not once had she broken her routine, not once had she found herself sitting in the last few rows, but today everything had changed, today (y/n) found herself hiding away from the professor who spoke without any emotions dripping from his words, one with the students that preferred to find shelter in the back of the big room.

Even though she knew that he couldn’t see her in the darkness filling the room, all light focused on him, it felt as if he was searching for her in the endless rows filled with students, eyes actively searching for the woman that had spoken with anger dripping from her words, fuelling the fire simmering inside of him. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding, guided by the embarrassment her own action had shot through her system, knowing that she’d think back to this moment for weeks on end – perhaps even months.

“I need you all to pay attention every week, it’s crucial for your homework, for the things you’ll work on this semester. I’d advise you to show up to every class, you won’t be able to catch up otherwise, especially not since you’ll get the chance to work on active cases.” A few gasps of surprises echoed through the room, and even (y/n) couldn’t stop herself from giving into the excitement once again filling her system. Perhaps she’d still get a chance to make things right with the man she had called an asshole only an hour ago.

“You’ll turn in your homework every Friday, you have time to upload it till 11:59 pm, you won’t get to hand it in later, once you miss the deadline that’s it. If you miss the deadline more than once, you’ll be kicked out of this class immediately. I need you all to understand that this class requires hard work, and as you hopefully also read in the description before enrolling, I expect you to have some basic knowledge about profiling, if not I’d advise you to quickly catch up, you’ll find a list of recommended readings uploaded to your online folders for this class.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but focus on his appearance, on the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt that exposed his muscular forearms, on the black trousers that seemed to add to his height, making him appear even taller. He was handsome, a man one could only dream of, and yet (y/n) was no longer sure how to feel about him after their run in this morning, momentarily ripped out of the crush she had fostered on him for years.

“And one last thing before I’ll let you go, if you have any questions, you can always email me and I’ll try to squeeze you in for my consultation hours, but please don’t waste my time with questions you can find answers to online. I will see you all next week, please remember to do your homework.”

……

The second (y/n) had entered her apartment, she had opened her laptop, finding her way to the folder for this week's homework. Perhaps she still had some chances to impress the man, turning in the homework as early as possible, instantly getting to work. But while she got to answering the questions that seemed all too easy to her, her mind started to wander, thinking back to her run in with professor Hotchner.

Even at the first talk he had held all these years ago, he had appeared distant, closed off, though not as cold as today, not as angry and annoyed. He had grown older, and yet (y/n) could only think that he was even more handsome, she’d probably never get over her crush on him, on the man she’d dream of when the nights grew darker and the days blurred by all too quickly.

She could only guess that something must have happened this morning, something that had pushed him further into the misery he was guided by, foregoing any kindness he’d normally use to approach strangers. And yet (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she should email him, to apologise, hoping that she could restore the bad image he now probably had of her.

Driven by her need to make things right, (y/n) reached for her phone, typing away a kind though distant apology, overthinking every word that could paint her like a desperate student, hungry for the man’s attention. Before her mind could produce any worst case scenarios that would leave her even more embarrassed, she clicked on “Send”, hoping to smooth the waters she was sailing through, hoping that she wouldn’t sink only hours after leaving her safe haven.

It didn’t take long for his reply to find its way back to her, shaky hands reaching for her buzzing phone, eyes growing wider as she read through the reply that shot heat through her once again.

“A word of advice, miss (y/n),

Don’t go around calling your professors assholes. It’d be a shame to kick somebody who has a reputation of being the smartest student in her faculty out of my class.

Best, A.H.”

#Aaron Hotchner smut #profiling 101 #Aaron Hotch imagine #professor Aaron Hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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delulu-with-wandanat · 5 months

Text

Mockingbird

Reader Description: He/him, adult, early 30s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst?

(Now now, i know i put out a poll. BUT i started writing this and... oh well enjoy :> I promise the next one will be a lighthearted Wandanat HS au eeekkk!!!!!)

Summary: America Chavez gave Wanda what she wanted, Wanda sees the love of her life again from another universe. However, her lover's variant already build a life without her...

Y/n sits on the sofa with a huff and turned on the TV to watch whatever was available on Netflix, "What a day..." he said to himself. He loved his new job, but of course like any other person he just needed some time alone.

He scrolled to the various crappy movies and series that he hadn't watch. Deciding that he just wanted something light, he put on a sitcom that he watched many times with his late wife a few years ago. It felt weird not watching it with her even until now, but he remembered how much his wife loved re-watching the sitcom over and over to the point where she could recite every single episode by heart.

Y/n smiled at the memory, when the two used to binge watch Brooklyn 99 at the common room of the compound. Wanda even got to the point where she hosted a 'Halloween Heist', but it ultimately stopped after two heist when Natasha won in less than 10 minutes, yes both heist. Honestly they should've known better than to have those kind of heist games with a well renowned international spy.

At least they still have a few rounds of 'Jimmy Jabs' games.

Except they dialed the extremeness to a 10 considering they were the Avengers. We don't have to get into details, but due to the techs that they have and the powers they own, things get very interesting quite quickly.

Well almost everything in his life was interesting, I mean he's surrounded by gods, witches, spies. Not a single day in his life was ordinary...

Including today, when a portal in the shape of a star appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. The portal it self did not shock him in the slightest. What did shock him though was the fact that the love of his life, his wife, his soulmate who died years ago, was now standing right in front of him in the flesh.

Y/n was speechless. Ever more so, the fact that Wanda was choking what it looks like no more than 14 year old girl. "Wanda, what are you doing?!"

"Y/n..." Wanda breathed out, her grip on the girl loosen. The 14 year old girl then fell to the gasping for air. "I- I didn't..."

Y/n stood up from the couch, he couldn't move. His dead wife was alive right before his eyes, either she had rise from the dead or... well, there was only one other possibility.

She was from another universe.

No doubt in his mind that she was. In Y/n's universe, they knew the existence of the multiverse. "I just wanted to see you again." Wanda said with teary eyes.

Being a former SHIELD agent, he was quick to piece the puzzle together. This Wanda must be from a Universe where he had died. He tried to stay calm for her, even though inside, seeing Wanda again brought back so many memories. Happy ones, but most notably the painful one.

Particularly, a memory of the day he lost her.

Wanda noticed that Y/n had been silent the whole time, she hung her head in shame. "I'm a monster..."

Y/n's heart broke at her words. "No... Lyubov, don't say that." He approached her slowly and gently lifted her chin so her eyes meets his.

Gazing into the eyes of the woman he loves that died years ago was something that would never have crossed his mind. It took every, by that I mean EVERYTHING in his power to not breakdown right in front of her.

Little did he know Wanda felt the same, however the difference was her wound was still fresh. Staring into his beautiful eyes again, it broke her. Wanda broke down and pulled him into a hug, taking in everything she could.

His scent, his warmth, his comfort.

She cried on to his shoulders, and Y/n simply held her. It felt good, really good. To be in his arms again. To have Y/n hold her like he used too.

“I miss you, so much." She told him between sobs.

"I miss you too." Y/n responded. Wanda pulled back and rested her forehead against his with her eyes closed. The two stayed like that for a little while, yet the question still lingers in Y/n's mind. Why was Wanda choking an innocent little girl?

It seems like his mind is louder than he thought as Wanda answered the question. "I... When you died, I couldn't- I couldn't move on." She told him hesitantly as she opened her eyes. Fear and guilt painted over her face as she thought of the potential reactions she would get from Y/n.

He glanced at the 14 year old girl behind her, Wanda noticed the way his eyes shifted. She felt the need to explain herself, he deserved to know the truth. To know the extent she went just to be with her lover again.

"I... I chased down, America Chavez. She was the key..." He shifted his eyes back to hers. Key?? "I tried to-" The words got stuck in her throat. "I tried to kill her..." She cried, hanging her head in shame. Y/n's eyes widen at her words.

Wanda... a killer? How bad was her universe treating her to the point where she goes to that extent??

An embrace, was the last thing Wanda had expected to receive from him. She expected a look of disappointment, shame, anger, yet all he did was simply pulled her into a hug.

"I understand."

That was when Wanda started crying against his chest. He was taller, so he kissed the top of her head lovingly. With her ears pressed against his chest, she could listen to his heartbeat. It was the calmest sound she hasn't heard in a while.

"I... I lost you, In my universe. I understand how you feel." Y/n remembered the day Wanda sacrificed herself for the soul stone. After the battle he begged, begged the Avengers to use the stones to bring her back. To have her in his arms again. To hold her...

Wanda felt his emotions. Anger, sadness, grief, Wanda felt it all as memory of her own death came back flooding his mind like a tidal wave. She held him tighter, knowing that he needed this just as much as she does. After a long while, they pulled back resting their foreheads against each other. Both with tears streaming down their eyes.

Wanda cupped his face, she felt Y/n leaning to her touch. When they gazed into each other once again, Wanda, without a second thought, pulled him down for a kiss.

Y/n reciprocated just as quick. Wanting to feel her soft lips after 4 long years. He missed it. Her soft touches, the taste of her lips, her beautiful voice. He missed her so dearly.

Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Holding onto his figure almost desperately. They held onto each other as they poured all the love they couldn't express with words through their actions.

After a long while, Wanda broke the kiss. "Let's not leave each other again."

Y/n clenched his jaw, he moved his hand from her waist to her face, caressing it. "I want that, more than anything..."

Wanda smiled, a genuine smile that she haven't had for the longest time. Yet... she noticed a hint of hesitation on Y/n's part. "What is it, love?"

He had to tell her, but he didn't know how. Y/n could tell she was broken, broken beyond repair that she goes to this extent. He doesn't know how to break the news to her. "Wands... I want you back, more than anything."

Slowly her smile fades. God he wishes he could bring it back.

"But... you can't stay here..."

That shattered Wanda's heart, "W-why?" Did he not love her just as much? He was a variant of her lover yes, but surely they would share the same love. Did he find someone else?? "What makes you say that?" She asked, from the tone of her voice Y/n could tell his words broke her heart.

"You can't... stay in my universe. And I can't- I can't stay in yours."

"W-why?"

"It would cause an incursion. It will destroy my universe and maybe even yours. I can't let that happen, Wands. I'm sorry." He told her gently while caressing her cheeks.

Her eyes started to pool again as she leaned to his touch. "Why... Why does it have to be like this- Why is the universe to cruel..."

Y/n wanted so badly to erase her sadness, her grief, to see her beautiful smile again. "If I was as powerful as you, I would've ventured across the multiverse for you. But, I'm just a human. The only thing I could do was... move on."

Move on

The word echoes in her head. Y/n had moved on. She looked at him in disbelief. "Move on?" Wanda breathed out.

Y/n clenched his jaw again, "Move on isn't the right word. You will always have a special place in my heart, but... I couldn't stay like that forever. I'm sorry, Wanda." He remembered the countless times he almost took his life, just to be with her again.

Wanda was... angry? Sad, heartbroken, deep down she understood. If she had died, she would've wanted him to live on. The same way her Y/n told her too. Yet part of her was still corrupted. How can he move on so quickly when she would destroy everything just to be with him again?

Anger was boiling inside her, before she could ask any further, they heard a little girl's voice. "Daddy?" Wanda was shocked to her core. Y/n... has a daughter.

Y/n quickly wiped his tears and turned around to face the 4 year old girl. "Heyy pumpkin." The little girl ran over to her father as he bent down to pick her up. "What are you doing up this late huh?" He asked her.

"Bad dream..." The little girl said while rubbing her eyes, yet it was clear she was still sleepy. Y/n turn to face Wanda with a gentle smile as he held his daughter.

Wanda was speechless, the sight... warmed her shattered heart. She was happy for him, but devastated that he had built a life... without her. The thought of Y/n having a kid, a family with someone else felt like a stab in her heart.

"Who's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at Wanda who was standing a few centimeters away from them with her hand on her chest. Trying so hard not to burst into tears.

Shit... how should he say this. "Honey, this is..." He wanted his daughter to know. But, she was too young. "...a very dear friend of mine. She has magical powers and came to visit me."

'Dear friend', so Wanda truly is out of his life.

The little girl waved at Wanda. "Hello!"

"Hi..." Wanda whispered. She wanted to hold the little girl. Wanda felt some sort of connection with her that she couldn't quite pin. It seems like the little girl felt the same as she leaned towards Wanda with grabby hands. Y/n took a few steps closer to Wanda, slowly.

"I think she wants to be held by you." Y/n said, looking at his daughter lovingly.

"May I?" Wanda asked, glancing at him. He nodded and gently moved his daughter onto Wanda's arms. The first thing the little girl did was reach up to touch her crown while giggling. “Oh-“

The action caused Wanda to laugh a little too. His daughter is beautiful. She definitely has her father’s hair. But her facial features probably leaned more towards her mother, whoever it is. Probably someone she knew as the little girl looked so... familiar.

“Magic?” The little girl asked.

Wanda smiled gently as she hovered her hand in front of the little girl. She projected a tiny rabbit that hopped around her hand, causing the little girl to giggle while clapping her hand. The bunny hopped around the little girl as well before disappearing into a red mist.

Unbeknownst to Wanda, Y/n doing everything in his powers not to break down at the sight before him. “Are you friends with my mama?

Wanda didn’t know how to answer that. “Um…”

“My daddy says my mama has magic powers, like you!” The little girl explained.

“Has your Mama talked about me?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The only other person who she know was a witch is Agatha.

"No..." The little girl said sadly. "Dad says she's somewhere up there." She pointed at the ceiling, Wanda understood what she meant. "He said we'll visit her one day!"

"Oh... I see." Well, what was she supposed to say. The little girl then played with her crown again, and Wanda lets her. Loving smile plastered on her face. It seems like the little girl was studying her face as well??

"You look a little bit like her?" Y/n's daughter blurted out. Could it be? No it can't be. "My mama had brown hair though, yours is red."

Deciding she didn't want to get her hopes up, she asked the girl a question. Hoping to steer the subject. "What's your name?"

"Wanda." The little girl answered, she was too pre occupied with Wanda's crown to notice the shift in Wanda's expression. "My daddy says my mama has the same name too." The little girl added.

Oh... It all makes sense now. The connection she felt toward the little girl.

Wanda finally glanced at Y/n who had a sorrow look plastered across his face. That was when she finally noticed the difference, this Y/n indeed looked much much older than the one from her universe. Her heart stammering in her chest. This wasn't just Y/n's daughter... It's their's.

Y/n approached the two of them, they didn't know how long time had passed. Probably a while, as little Wanda had decided to nestle on the crook of her mother's neck with her eyes closed. Wanda searched Y/n's eyes for explanation.

"You-" He corrected himself, "Her mother, had complications with pregnancy." He explained while tucking a hair behind his daughter's ear, watching her sleeping form with a small smile. "So, Tony made us an artificial womb to carry this little devil."

Wanda looked at his- her daughter's sleeping form. It felt surreal.

"But uh..." His voice cracked slightly, "Wanda and I got sent on a mission, to bring everyone back from the snap. We won... but I lost her." It was clear that the memory brought so much pain to him. "Not long after that this little bug was born. Wanda... never got to meet her. So I named her after her mother."

No wonder the girl looked familiar, she had took on most of Wanda's facial feature. Her nose, her face structure, but most notably her eyes. She looked exactly like how she was when she was younger.

"I would never forget you, Wanda." He whispered so only she could hear. Wanda glanced at Y/n who had tears in his eyes.

Wanda was at lost for words, the only thing she could came up with was. "She has your hair."

Y/n chuckles, "Yeah... that's kind of the only thing she got from me." He had a longing look as he stared at little Wanda holding onto her mother. A sight he wished he could've seen with his Wanda, but she was taken away from him before she could ever meet her own daughter. "I was lost for days, but then when she was born I-" He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. "I had to be strong, for her sake."

Y/n slowly wrap his arms around the two of them, the sight of the family was perfect. America, who had been watching their whole conversation was touched by the image. To see the contrast of how Wanda used her powers in front of her daughter. How tender she was, the power that caused so much chaos to be used in such a gentle way. It reminds her a little bit of her own mothers.

"If she wasn't here I-" Y/n's words got stuck in his throat, "I think I would've..." Yet Wanda knew what he meant, her heart shattered for him.

"Y/n..." Wanda closed the distance and rested their foreheads once more with their daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

They stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth from each other. Wanting so badly to be the perfect family that they could've been if the universe wasn't so cruel. Another thought creeped into his mind, how was he supposed to explain this to their daughter when she remembers?

Surely it was probably because of sleepiness that she couldn't properly remember her mother's face. But she has seen multiple pictures of her mother, how was he supposed to explain that this Wanda was a variant.

His thoughts was so loud that Wanda could hear it clearly. "It's ok." She said, giving him a reassuring smile. Wanda raised her hand slowly, little red mist emitting from the tip of her fingers. She tapped their daughter's temple ever so gently. Causing little Wanda to nestle further into her neck with a faint smile.

"Rest your head and go to sleep, little one. When you wake up, this will all just be a dream." Wanda whispered.

ᗢ

"Hey, pumpkin. Time to wake up." Wanda Y/l/n, slowly opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched her arms. Her father was smiling softly at her, she sat up on her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"I had a dream..." The little girl told her father. Unknown to her, Y/n tensed slightly.

"Was was it about?" He asked.

"Mama came to visit us instead." The little girl didn't understand why, but she felt extremely sad as she started to cry. Y/n was quick to pull her into a hug.

"Shhh... It's ok little one, don't you cry." He held his daughter as she cried in his arms. "Everything's gonna be alright."

"Why couldn't she stay?"

He thinks for a second before answering, "I know mommy's not here right now, but I promise she's gonna be alright."

And if you ask me to, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Imma give you the world. Imma buy a diamond ring for you, Imma sing for you, I'd do anything for you To see you smile

#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x masculine!reader #wanda x male y/n #mcu #wanda imagine #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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hatelangdon · 7 months

Text

Fever

Pt 1, Pt 2 / 3k words.

(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)

Hurt/comfort, & fluff, Slight angst (it's just me rambling about Kyle's mistreatment from the Coven)

(🚨 Warnings: Talks of Fever, Being sick, Vomiting (not in detail), seperation anxiety, Crying, Zoe and Madison being terrible caregivers so neglect, problems with eating and drinking🚨)

Summary: Kyle doesn't feel good, he hasn't for a while...but what he needs now is kindness, understanding, and care from someone who actually wants the best for him.

(A/N: We all just want Kyle to feel better, he's so sweet. You could honestly just read this one by itself, but if you want more lore I would look into the last 2 parts...I definitely got carried away so I understand if ya'll don't feel like reading all this but I TOLD YALL I LOVE WHUMP but Misty is back and Kyle is wearing silly straw glasses so how mad could you be? I would highly recommend that you listen to this song near the end of the story , it adds a layer of sentiment that I can't even describe. I hope you have all enjoyed this little series as much as i've enjoyed writing it <3)

Also, this is not proofread so there's probably errors, ya'll know the drill by now.

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When you returned with the broom and dustpan to clean the glass up, Kyle was laying in the bed twirling the ring around his pinky. He was so enamored by its beauty that he barely even noticed when you came back, until you started to sweep the glass off the floor.

He realized your presence and perked up, watching you with big eyes.

“H-help?” He started sitting up, but you gently pushed him back down onto the pillows.

"I got it Kyle. You need to rest, and I don't want you to accidentally step on something" You assured him.

Cordelia had taught him how to sweep since he basically became the coven’s butler after Zoe and Madison decided to bring him back from the dead. This always raised ethical concerns in your mind because…why would they do that?

Kyle must’ve had dreams of his own, he was in college, he had friends that cared about him, he had a life that he wanted to live. Now he was unable to communicate and in constant pain from the terrible stitch job that Madison and Zoe had used to put him back together. His body never felt like his own, and thats because it wasn't...fully; They had decided to stitch Kyle back together using the body parts of his fellow frat brothers, which caused a lot of issues for both his mental and physical health.

It was all wrong. He was wrongfully killed in a bus crash, by Madison's hand and then he was brought back to be Zoe and Madison's personal toy & used as "the help"

Bringing someone back from the dead after you killed them, just so you could have sex and make them clean your house and serve you drinks didn't seem morally correct or fair. Those two had played “build a boyfriend” with Kyle’s life and didn't even take care of him properly.

Kyle never once took his eyes off of you while you swept, he had always admired how pretty you were and how warm your heart was.

After all of the glass was cleaned up and disposed of, you sat on the side of the bed, gently taking your ring from Kyle's hand and putting it back on your finger

"I told you I would be back" you stroked his hand with your thumb, and he gave you a gentle, sleepy, smile.

“P-p-pretty” Kyle blinked at you, still smiling

“yeah, it is a pretty ring isn't it? I can get you one like it, would you like that Kyle?"

He took a minute, allowing himself to fully decipher your words, before nodding and placing a gentle hand on your cheek

“Y-you pretty.” He blinked hard, and nodded again to insure you knew what he was talking about.

You felt your face heat up and your heart flutter like it housed a butterfly garden,

“thank you Kyle. You are very kind.”

Your words only made his smile bigger.

You had moved yourself to the side of the bed, your back resting on the wall. Kyle balled himself next to you, resting his head on your lap.

You rubbed the side of his head with your thumb to let him know that you were with him, even as he slept. You could feel that he still had a fever....in fact he was burning up. Luckily, he was being taken care of and resting, maybe that was all that he needed.

Kyle only slept for an hour before all hell broke loose

You had stayed where you were, you didn't mind since Kyle was resting peacefully on your lap and no one really noticed that you hadn't come out of your room, it was still pretty early in the day.

You just sat there watching tv on your phone. Kyle had started to stir in your lap, his eyebrows furrowed like he was uncomfortable. He curled in on himself tighter, practically hugging his knees to his chest.

You ran your nails down his spine, hoping to comfort him a bit. His eyes suddenly opened and he sat up, looking panicked and tapping his chest desperately trying to convey something to you.

Your eyes widened, you were just as confused as he was

“Um- what's wrong? Are you choking?” You were very unsure “is it your stitches???”

Kyle’s eyes were tearing up and he started turning red, as he continued to try and show you what was wrong with him by patting his chest. He started gagging and you realized what the issue was, quickly.

“NO! NO! KYLE PLEASE DO NOT THROW UP ON MY BED” You practically sprung 4 feet off the bed and tackled the trashcan by your desk, luckily there was a bag in it. You rushed it over and put it in front of him.

“You’re okay Kyle, just let it up” you rubbed his back gently, as he dry heaved over the bin, sobbing. He didn’t understand why this was happening to him, why his stomach hurt so much, and why his throat burned. The muscle tension from him being bent over and heaving caused his stitches to pull on his skin, which made his experience much more painful.

You hated to see him this way, you didn’t think it would get this bad but he was clearly much sicker than you had anticipated, the sound of him being sick and his desperate cries broke your heart, but all you could do was stay there with him and talk him through it.

“I know it hurts Ky, I know. Just keep breathing. It’ll be over soon.” You pressed your lips to the back of his neck, rubbing on his shoulders.

You could tell he was finished when the heaving stopped and he was just crying with his head in the bin.

You took it away from him with your eyes closed tying up the bag, you’d deal with it later.

Kyle was back lying on the bed, curled up in fetal position while his body shook with sobs. He was exhausted and everything hurt.

“Ky, I know you don’t feel good. I’m sorry.” You were gentle with him, squeezing his hand “I’m gonna get you something to drink okay? You need to hydrate. It’ll help your throat.” you tried to sound encouraging, but he didn’t seem to care at all.

He turned to you, sniffling while his eyes still pooled with tears and his nose blushed in bright hue of strawberry rouge, he held his hand out expectantly.

You looked around confused at first, until you realized that he was eyeing your ring. He had remembered.

You smiled, and pushed it into his palm, closing his fingers around it and kissing the back of his hand.

You made your way down to the kitchen to get some water from the brita, you used some old water bottle you got from a school event, it was best to give Kyle a drink with a lid, because he was prone to suddenly jerking his body. You came back upstairs, where Kyle was staring at the wall completely worn out.

“I’m back, ky”

He just hummed, his eyes closed to keep the light out. You had noticed Kyle didn't like to drink water that much, he didn’t really know why he needed to, so Zoe and Madison would just give him Diet Coke and apple juice all day to keep him quiet. This was a habit you could have fixed, but you didn't feel like arguing and Kyle needed fluids and electrolytes in him immediately.

You opened your nightstand, You kept cherry flavored liquid iv in your top drawer because you were also prone to forgetting to hydrate. You poured the powder in, shaking it up so it would be dissolved.

You kneeled next to the bed, running your hands through Kyle’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“Here Kyle, sip it. I made it sweet for you, it’ll help you feel a bit better”

He nodded, sipping on the water bottle, he liked it enough to take it from your hands and try to drink from it himself, it took him 10 seconds before accidentally squirting himself in the face, flinching

"Careful, Kyle" you took it from him, and he grunted.

You looked around your room for a better straw for him to sip on, your eyes landed on your desk. You had a pair of those silly straw glasses, from your little cousin's birthday party. You looked between the glasses and Kyle's wet face and knew exactly what he needed.

You grabbed them and tapped Kyle on the shoulder so he would look up at you.

“I’m gonna put these on you, alright?”

Kyle was intrigued by the tubing, but he recognized that they were also glasses of some kind and allowed you to put them behind his ears.

You were careful putting the straw back into the cup, making sure he would be able to actually drink it.

“Okay Ky, these are very special glasses,” you showed him the part of the straw that went into his mouth and he just stared at you, tilting his head in confusion “You’re just gonna drink from it like a regular straw.”

You helped him put it in between his lips and he did as he was told, sucking on it like a normal straw. When he realized that the liquid was circling his eyes and coming all the way around the glasses, he immediately gave you a giddy smile thinking it was the coolest thing in the world.

He suddenly latched onto your waist from where you stood in front of him, hugging you close. His head rested on your chest while he happily sipped on his water. This took you by surprise, but all you did was pat his blonde head and return the favor by wrapping your arms around his back, giggling at the unanticipated declaration of love.

“Y/n care Kyle?” He took the straw out of his mouth, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

You nodded, giving him a smile. You had never felt so much love and admiration for someone in such a little amount of time.

“Yes Kyle, I care about you very much. I will always value you and make sure you’re treated well from now on.”

He smiled, and went back to sipping his drink through his silly little glasses, still holding onto you.

All you wanted to do was keep him safe and comfortable in your arms but you still had other things to attend to, like breakfast for both of you…well brunch.

“Kyle,” You were careful with your movements as you wriggled your way out of his grip, you watched his entire face drop as he reached out for you once again wondering why you suddenly didn’t want to cuddle him. It took every ounce of your strength to not jump right back into the bed and hold him.

“I gotta make us some food, are you hungry?” You put your hands on the sides of his face.

“Hungry.” He repeated, nodding.

“Okay, I’m gonna make you something. Do you know what you want?”

“Mac n cheese.”

“Alright, I’ll make you some Mac and cheese.” You made your way to the door and Kyle tried to follow, holding his water and looking at you like a lost puppy.

“Ky, you can’t come. You’re sick honey.” You guided him back to the bed

“Cold. B-bored.” He whined, trying to pull you into the bed with him. If he wasn’t sick he probably would have been able to.

“No Kyle, I gotta go. I’ll only be gone a little while.”

That’s when the tears started, he was exhausted and these past couple of days had been really difficult for him. He felt like you weren’t listening to him, like you didn’t care.

“Oh no no no, Kyle please don’t cry my angel,” You sat with him, wiping his tears away “I know you don’t feel good and you want me to hold you, I promise I will come back. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I would never lie to you Ky.”

He sniffled, he didn’t get it 100%, words always got fuzzy in his mind but as he studied your face, he realized the sincerity in your eyes.

“I think it will help if I make the room comfy for you, hm?” You got up and closed your black out curtains which helped take some strain off of Kyle’s eyes and dull his headache, you had twinkling fairy lights that added some warmth to the room.

Kyle looked around, seeing the change in scenery and almost instantly he felt calmer.

Autumn had just begun, Kyle always loved the change of the seasons, but autumn was his favorite. It was so cozy and pretty.

You set up your laptop on a pillow near him, turning on the first episode of “over the garden wall” and covering him back up with your weighted blanket.

He suddenly felt relieved of all the tension left in his body.

“Is this better?” You rubbed the bottom of his back and he nodded, sipping away on his drink.

He was so entranced by the show, that you were able to slip out without saying another word.

You went down into the kitchen where you were graced by the presence of Misty dancing to Fleetwood Mac and twirling around in her flowy clothes

“Good morning, darlin!” She took your hand and twirled you, “Can I interest you in some French toast? I think I made too much batter.”

Misty was by far your favorite sister in the coven, she was so kind and sympathetic, especially towards the vulnerable creatures of the world.

“oh Misty, you know that I love your French toast, but I gotta make a mac & cheese cup for Kyle so I’m probably gonna eat one too.” You tried to make your way over to the pantry, but Misty pulled you back towards her playfully.

“no, you both can eat my French toast it's better for ya, and I'll even put some strawberries and cream on top to sweeten the deal.”

You happily obliged and sat on one of the bar stools in front of the stove watching Misty do her thing.

“What’re you doing with Kyle, where’s Madison?”

You raised your eyebrows, “Well there was some conflict between the two of them so I decided it would be best if they took a pause- and Kyle is pretty sick, so I told him I’d take care of him.” While it wasn't technically a lie, it also wasn't the truth but you couldn't tell Misty that you had froze Madison in time and kept her in her room for the past 2 days.

“Aw that’s too bad, why didn’t you tell me the poor angel was sick? I made some elderberry gummies a couple of days ago.” She flipped the toast in the pan, “They do wonders for the immune system, we're coming up on cold and flu season. I'm gonna get ya’ll some, I'll be right back!” she skipped off to her room her golden locks bouncing behind her, “if you smell something burning, just take the pan off the heat!”

She came back with a mason jar, filled with dark purple star shaped gummies,

“these will help him get better faster, but you should probably take some too.”

You nodded, giving her a big smile “Thanks Misty, you're the kindest person I know.”

“Awww, you don't have to say that. I try to help out where I can. I've seen you do the same, don't think that big heart of yours goes unnoticed.” She gave you a wink as she plated up French toast for both Kyle and You.

“I’ll cut his up,” She grabbed a butter knife from the drawer, cutting the toast in tiny square pieces, “Now, you go take this up and make sure that boy is taken care of!” She handed both plates off to you and turned her little radio up louder, quietly humming the lyrics to herself while she cooked.

“You could be my silver spring Blue-green colors flashin' I would be your only dream Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin"

The music followed along as you made your way back up the spiral staircase, opening the door to your bedroom to see Kyle resting peacefully with his cheek smushed against your pillow, his eyes sleepily taking in the calm scenes of the show.

“Ky, Misty made us some French toast” you sing-songed.

He turned to you eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't what he asked for., you noticed his confused expression and took a seat on the bed right next to him.

“I know it's not what you asked for, but did you wanna try?” You asked encouragingly.

He could smell it, and he liked the smell, so he was willing to try. He opened his mouth for you to feed him and you stabbed a piece with your fork, placing it in.

He chewed it up, it was very sweet so he liked it and showed you by opening his mouth for another piece. If he wasn't sick, you wouldn't have babied him so much, but you could still feel the warmth of fever on his skin so you needed to coddle him for just a little bit more.

and after a few minutes and what felt like magic you had managed to feed Kyle and yourself with no mess, you placed your dishes on your desk you would worry about them later.

Kyle had felt much better, but he still wanted you all to himself.

“Y/n done?” He perked his head up and looked at you with his big puppy eyes,

“Yes Kyle, I’m all done with everything” You came right over and grabbed his hand, which caused him to smile, shyly.

“L-lay with Kyle..and-and watch p-p-pumpkin?” He pointed to the show, wanting you to enjoy it as much as he did even though you were the one who introduced it.

“Of course, Ky.”

And with that, you wrapped your body right around his, holding him close to your chest. Your fingers intertwined as both of your faces were illuminated by the warm orange lighting of the show. You didn’t know what to call your relationship, you didn’t know if Zoe would ever return, and you didn’t know if you would ever unfreeze Madison by your own will…but you did know one thing, You would love Kyle forever and no one else would ever be able to hurt him as long as there was breath in your body.

#american horror story #ahs coven #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #evan peters #franken kyle #tate langdon #kyle spencer #whump #whumpee #sickfic #hurt/comfort #american horror story coven #american horror murder house #ahs fanfic #evan peters x reader

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sequinsmile-x · 20 days

Text

Physical Touch

He usually loved when his wife touched him, but it was slowly driving him crazy.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi friends!

Well...I should have expected that the smut fic would win the poll by a landslide and here we are haha

I really hope you enjoy this <3 it's soft, smutty and full of Aaron just...pining for his wife. What more could you want on a Thursday evening?

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He’d known she was tactile long before they got together.

Aaron had watched her for years, always ready to place a comforting hand on someone’s shoulder or pull them into a hug. More than once he’d found himself wishing she’d do the same for him, the embargo they’d seemingly placed on physical contact between them a two-way thing, something they both upheld, as if they knew it was a line they could not cross.

He’d held her hand once before they became them. It was when she was in hospital, before she was stable enough to be moved to Bethesda. She’d still mostly been out of it, pain and medication rolling through her in a way he was also familiar with. He’d held her hand, squeezing it tightly as he wore the suit he’d worn to her funeral, a bitter taste on his tongue as he apologised to her. She’d told him since that she thought she’d dreamt it, that she’d pulled him out of her imagination, the warmth of his hand around hers something she’d made up in some strange attempt to self-soothe.

He’d always known she was tactile, but being in a relationship with her was a whole other level he hadn’t been anticipating. She touched him all the time, ranging from subtle moments, like her fingers trailing over his when she passed him a coffee or a case file, or squeezing his knee under the table when they were at Dave’s for dinner, to more obvious moments. She was a snuggler, something he would never have put money on before their first date. She would wrap herself around him like a vine whenever they were alone, her arm linked through his and her head on his shoulder as they sat on the couch, or she could lay half on top of him in bed, her hand sneaking under his t-shirt as she sought his warmth from the source, falling asleep to the comfort of his heartbeat.

He loved it. He loved that his wife expressed her love that way, that she’d push his hair out of his face as she told him he needed a haircut, that she also loved their children in the same way. It’s one of the reasons he knew Jack and Violet always sought her out for comfort, her embrace was his place of safety too, something so calming about something as simple as her cheek against his shoulder that he wondered how he'd ever lived without it.

He usually loved it, but it was slowly driving him crazy.

He’d dislocated his shoulder in a takedown of an unsub two months ago. The injury had torn his rotator cuff and he’d needed surgery, a simple relocation of his shoulder joint not enough. He could still remember the fear in Emily’s eyes when he’d come round from surgery, how she was barely holding herself together, her grip on his wedding ring that he’d had to take off so tight the imprint lasted for hours. His shoulder had been immobilised with strict instructions on how to make sure he healed properly, and the only time his wife ever paid attention to medical advice to the letter was when it was for him or one of the kids, which had led to one, unfortunate, side effect.

Aaron hadn’t had sex with his wife in two months.

He missed her. She was right by his side, but he missed her. Missed the intimacy that had always been an important part of their relationship. Every tiny thing about her was getting to him the longer they went without having sex. Her beauty was bordering on obscene, as it always had, and his breath would catch in his chest whenever he looked at her, or if she walked by and he caught a sniff of her perfume, the scent he knew was simply her always following just afterwards. Even watching her with Jack and Violet, watching how good a mother she was filled his gut with want, with the desire to have more children with her as soon as possible.

The touching was, however, by far the worst. Every time she touched him he felt his skin fizz, sparks set off just by the feel of her skin against his, and he was close to losing his mind.

He hears a knock on his office door and he looks up, a smile immediately breaking out across his face when he sees Emily standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she casually leans against the door frame.

“Hey honey,” she says, stepping into the office, “Are you ready to go? We, and by we I mean you, promised Vi we’d pick up some dessert on the way home.”

He chuckles as he thinks about his 2, almost 3, year old daughter. She was a mini Emily through and through, right down to the big dark brown eyes he couldn’t say no to. He stands up and starts to put some paperwork in his briefcase, and he raises his eyebrow at his wife as he looks up at her.

“You say that like you can say no to her,” he quips, stepping out from behind his desk and walking over to her, quickly stamping his lips against hers.

She hums and kisses him again, her hand hooking around the back of his head, making him shiver as she scratches lightly at his scalp, “We both know I’m the bad cop at home, baby,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “One of us has to be.”

He laughs, the sound dying in his throat when she reaches out and places her hand on his chest, rubbing gently at the lapel on his jacket. He can feel her touch through his clothes, her skin somehow burning him through his jacket and his shirt, and he tenses before he can control it. Emily frowns at him, her eyebrows pinching together as she pulls back.

“You had some lint on you,” she explains, pressing her lips together as she looks him up and down, her eyes slightly narrowed as she tries to figure out what's wrong, “Aaron are you okay? Is your shoulder bothering you?”

It’s not a lie, not really, because his shoulder was sore. A now familiar ache that got worse throughout the day, radiating outwards from the new scar he bore. It was easier than explaining to her how he was feeling, less embarrassing than admitting he wanted her so much he was thinking about pushing everything off his desk right here and now.

There were still two weeks until the doctor’s initial advice would run out, and he knew it was going to be the longest two weeks of his life.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling softly at her, rolling his shoulder slightly, “It just aches a bit.”

She hums and places her hand on it, her concern deepening when he tenses again, “How about when the monsters are in bed I give you a massage?”

He falters for a moment, sure that would be his undoing, but instead, he nods and decides to deflect as he places his hand on her lower back and guides her out of his office.

“Why do you get to call them monsters, but I don’t?” He asks, knowing exactly what her answer is going to be.

She scoffs playfully and looks up at him, her eyes narrowed, “Because one of them came out of me.”

___

By the time they get the kids to bed, he thinks she’s forgotten. The evening had passed them by with homework, bath time, and bedtime stories, a wonderfully normal evening they both once thought they’d never get.

He walks into their bedroom to find her kneeling on the bed, wearing one of his t-shirts and a tiny pair of shorts sticking out from underneath, with a bottle of lotion in hand.

She smiles at him, popping open the lid on the lotion as she beckons him over, “Come on, honey,” she says, “I promised you a massage.” She sees the slight hesitation before he walks over, and she hides a smirk by clearing her throat. He sits on the edge of the bed and she rolls her eyes, placing the lotion on the bed before she runs her hands over his shoulders, her fingers meeting at his neck as she starts to undo his shirt buttons, “This works better if you don’t wear your shirt.”

He nods and helps her get his shirt off, grateful that he’d slipped his tie off when he got home earlier, and he lets the shirt fall to the ground. She puts some of the lotion into her hands and rubs them together before she touches him, warming her palms and the lotion at the same time.

It’s only when she starts spreading it on his skin, her touch firm but gentle as she pushes her thumbs into his bad shoulder, that he realises she’s using her lotion. One that had a slight spice to it, a scent of cinnamon that followed her everywhere that was now permeating into his skin. He groans, his teeth clenched as he breathes her in, widening his legs as his pants get tighter.

She frowns, ready to pull away just in case she is hurting him, but then she looks over his shoulder, her lips pressed together as her cheeks flush when she sees the tenting of his pants. She makes a snap decision, wiping her palms on her shirt to get rid of the excess lotion before she climbs out from behind him.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his eyebrow raised as she kneels on the floor in front of him, her hands already on his belt, undoing it quickly.

“Come on, Aaron,” she says, unbuttoning his pants and moving them and his boxers just far enough to free him, “It hasn’t been that long,” she says, smiling in a way that seemed far too innocent for where her hand was, “I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” she says, pumping him up and down, “Let me help.”

He nods, not needing any convincing, and his eyes drift shut as she leans forward and takes him in her mouth. He wraps his fists around the sheets of the bed so tightly he thinks they might rip.

“Fuck, Em. You’re so good at that,” he says, unable to stop himself from thrusting into her throat, the pressure that had been building him in for weeks threatening to blow, “So fucking good.”

She leans forward until her nose briefly presses against his pubic bone before she pulls back, sucking in a breath before she moves in again, bobbing her head up and down, his chorus of groans her reward. She has to press her thighs together for some friction, so turned on by seeing and hearing him like this that she briefly forgets why it had been so long since they’d done this in the first place. She can feel him start to lose control, his thrusts getting messier, but he stops her, his hand on her shoulder as he encourages her backwards, a desperate look in his eyes.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting rid of the spit that had connected her lip to the tip of him and she tilts her head, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, pushing his hands through her hair that he’d clearly messed up, unaware that he’d even grasped it, “I just want to be with you.”

She smiles devilishly, her tongue pressed into her cheek, chasing the taste of him from it, “You are with me.”

He rolls his eyes at her. He’d missed this too, the ease that came with being with her like this, the familiarity to it. It could be rough, passionate. Tearing each other’s clothes off. Or it could be soft. Full of love and hands pressed together as they showed each other how much they loved each other.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he says, and she smiles and nods, standing up from where she’d been kneeling. She pulls his pants off the rest of the way and then stands up, ready to straddle him, her desire making her dizzy. It’s only when she leans in to kiss him, her gaze briefly lingering on the new scar on his shoulder, and everything comes back into sharp focus.

“Wait,” she says breathlessly, pulling away from him, “We shouldn’t do this, your doctor-”

“Sweetheart,” he cuts her off, barely recognising his own voice because of how thick it is with desire, rough and gravelly as he stares at her, “You started this.”

She scoffs, “I started this? You’re the one who got an erection when I just barely touched your shoulder.”

In any other circumstance, he’s sure he’d laugh. It was so like her to try and start an argument in the middle of sex it made him fall in love with her even more, a feat that always seemed impossible until it happened. He pulls her closer, grateful not for the first time this evening that it wasn’t his dominant shoulder that had been injured, “Because you’re so fucking gorgeous I couldn’t take it anymore.”

She swallows thickly and looks him up and down, desire sparking under her skin. It had been a long two months for her too, her frustration at not being able to have him so intense she’d yelled at Derek twice in the last week alone when he hadn’t deserved it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she admits, her voice cracking slightly. He smiles softly, the pent-up, overwhelming, need for her fading for a moment as he reaches out and cups her cheek, tucking some of her unruly hair behind her ear.

“You never could.”

She thinks about it for a moment before she nods leaning forward to stamp her lips against his before she briefly gets off the bed, dropping her shorts to the ground, “Lean up against the headboard.”

He does as he’s told, and she pulls a pillow from her side of the bed and slots it between his bad shoulder and the headboard, smiling softly when he stamps a grateful kiss against her lips. She sits on his lap, groaning as she notches over him, a noise he returns when he feels just how wet she is.

“Fuck, Em,” he says, his hands on her hips as she pulls her t-shirt off, “I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Yeah, well” she breathes out, rocking her hips over him, “You’re not the only one who’s been missing this,” she says as she wraps her hand around him to guide him into her.

They both groan as she sinks onto him, the familiar stretch making them both breathless for a moment.

“Oh fuck,” she says, her eyes rolling back as her head falls backwards for a moment, her hands on his thighs as she clenches around him, the breath stolen from her lungs as she adjusts to him, “God you feel so good.”

“You do too, sweetheart,” he grunts out, encouraging her closer, tugging at her until they are chest to chest, bare skin pressed against each other as he rests his forehead against hers, “You feel so fucking good.”

She cups his cheeks, her hands on either side of his face as she keeps her forehead against his and starts to rock her hips against his, a sound she could only call a relieved chuckle escaping her as he meets her thrust for thrust.

They fall into a familiar rhythm, a sense of desperation woven through it, their eyes locked together as they both move, lost in the feel of each other. Eventually, he feels her hips start to stutter, and her thighs tremble around him. He reaches between them with his good hand and rubs circles on her clit, smiling as she mewls at him, the sound close to obscene as she buries her face in his neck, just about able to remember their children were sleeping down the hall.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, increasing the pressure on her clit, feeling his own orgasm within reach, “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

She clenches her teeth tightly as she comes, stopping herself from screaming out as her hips buck against him. A spark goes off in her belly and spreads through her entire body, every nerve ending on fire as it washes over her as she moans his name. He isn’t far behind her, the way she clenches around him as she comes the final push he needs, and he buries his face in the top of her hair, her name lost in the dark locks stuck to her with sweat.

They fall into silence, just the sound of their heavy breathing surrounding them. She’s the first to pull back, smiling lazily at him as she kisses him quickly before she pulls back to look at him, checking him over as if she’s looking for damage. She looks at the scar, placing her hand over it as she still tries to catch her breath, “I hope we didn’t make it worse.”

“It’s fine, baby,” he says, kissing her temple and then her cheek, encouraging her to turn her head so he can capture her lips in a kiss, “Besides, since when were you such a stickler for doctor’s orders?”

She playfully narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t pull back, not wanting to put any space between them yet, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Right,” he says jokingly, stamping a kiss against her lower lip, stuck out in a pout she’d always deny, “So it wasn’t you who I caught trying to drive to the store less than two weeks after she had a c-section? My mistake.”

She blows out a breath and shakes her head at him, her cheeks somehow flushing even though the blush from her orgasm had never gone away, “That was totally different.”

He chuckles and kisses her, properly this time, and he smiles as he pulls back, “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

-x-

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creedslove · 8 months

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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIXTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: what happens when you break the cowboy hat rule? You and Jack finally spend much needed time together

(This is the sixth chapter of my HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO FIFTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, romance, mentions of smut, teasing, dirty talk, making out, dry humping, sort of breeding kink, a little bit of lactation kink, thigh riding, smut (oral sex f!receiving, unprotected piv), mom!reader

A/N: I know we didn't have the cowboy last week and that made us all very sad, but personally, I think it was worth the wait, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

5.9k words

The cowboy's heart beat faster and faster, his hands getting slightly sweaty to hold you tight against him, at the same time your words ran through his mind. You'd said yes, to marry him someday, to be his wife, to build a family with you. He couldn't even believe how happy and lucky he was.

You'd broken the cowboy hat rule on purpose, to symbolize how ready you were to be with him, of course he was excited about the sexual part, but it went further beyond that, it was about you and him and Wyatt and hopefully the kids you would have it in the future, about the chance he got from you. Jack was in a turmoil of feelings, only that this time they were good, positive feelings. The fear, the pain, the sadness were gone, ahead of him was just the happiness of having a family he wished for and craved through his entire life.

He looked down at you, wearing his hat and with a happy smile on your face, effortlessly beautiful, giggling at his touch as well as Wyatt who happily ran all over the place. For one split second Jack was sure he'd died on a mission and was sent to heaven, because that was his heaven: his family. But the kiss you placed on his lips was more than real, no heavenly fantasy would be able to reproduce the real deal. He knew those lips, he loved them, how soft they were, how good they tasted and how bad they could make a grown man cry.

You on the other hand, couldn't be happier about your cowboy and you; perhaps you had just low-key said yes to his proposal, but this time the consideration of marrying him didn't seem to be so scary, you would have to sit down with him and discuss things through, plan at least a couple of things for the future and sort out small details from your lives together, for example if you and Wyatt would permanently move onto the ranch and find a school for your son, for instance. But at that moment everything could wait, because the happiness you both were feeling was just too good, it wasn't like the old times with him - very often you had the habit of comparing situations - but instead, it was a new kind of happiness, the one you shared with your family. Even your son could sense how happy his mommy and daddy were, Wyatt had been having the happiest days of his life, but he was a sensitive boy and could tell when things were wrong, however, not this time, as he saw how his daddy held you tight and you giggled at him. He watched as you took his dad's hat and put it on your own head, how you stroked his cheek and kissed his lips, even if Wyatt thought those kisses were icky, it was cool to have his parents so united, maybe they could even become a big family, where the mommies lived with the daddies and their kids, just like he saw in the cartoons.

"Can I play in the inflatables, mommy?!" Your son suddenly interrupted your kiss, making you break contact with Jack and blush slightly to realize your son had been watching you two, of course he gave you the sweetest and most heartwarming puppy eyes you'd ever seen - courtesy of the Daniels' genes that ran in the family - and there was no way in the world you could say no to that little face. Clearing your throat, you nodded, chuckling at how he simply ran off, so excitedly to play some more. You turned your attention back to your cowboy, staring at him and taking in his handsome face. He'd gotten a little older with time, just like you had, but he was so handsome it made you go weak. Your hand ran through the side of his head, fingers burying into his fluffy hair, and running through it, before going a little south and stroking his cheek. Neither of you said a word, you didn't have to at that moment, because it was just you and him. The cowboy had a tight grip around you, he didn't let go of you for his dear life, you knew how much strength those hands carried and it was both assuring and arousing to know you were trapped in between them. Your body was pressed against his, he was always warm and if you rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heart beating. Perhaps it'd been the experience at the cemetery, or how you'd learned about his self-destructive behavior, but you were taken by a sudden fear of losing him. Your heart shattered just to imagine you could've lost him on different occasions and you looked down, letting out a sob before you could even realize it.

"Hey… what's wrong, sugar?" His voice was a soft purr, just as his touch: his fingers on your chin lifting your head up and making you look into his eyes. Jack Daniels didn't want to see his woman cry, whatever reason it was, he would do everything in his willpower to prevent that from happening. Now that you had said yes to him, that he would make you his wife, he wanted to shield you from anything bad in the world. He was terrified of losing another family in the same way, he would definitely have no reasons to keep going if that ever happened, so it was a scenario he didn't even like to think of.

"I-I'm sorry Jack… I got a little emotional. I just don't want to lose you, at all" you sniffed and dried your tears "I want our family to be complete, and I would like for you to also be careful when you go on your missions…" and you also wanted to tell him not to ever lose hope again, but you couldn't; his supposedly suicide attempts had been confided into you by Helen, you couldn't do that to her, at the same time you also didn't want your cowboy to be ashamed of what happened.

"Don't worry, princess… I'll take good care of myself because there ain't no way in hell I'll leave my family waiting for me back home" he winked at you and leaned in again, kissing your lips with a groan at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Jack smiled between the kisses, his hand going towards your legs as the other sustained your back and he soon lifted you up, holding you in bridal style as you squealed surprised, wrapping your arms around his neck so you wouldn't lose balance

"What are you doing, Jack?!" You asked, feeling excited but also a little nervous. You had no idea what crossed your cowboy's mind, but you hoped he didn't have any crazy ideas, but he only chuckled and walked towards the inflatables, the two of you could see your son bouncing around, having so much fun but the moment he noticed the two of you, he frowned softly "mommy? What happened daddy?" He seemed puzzled to why his daddy was carrying his mommy, maybe she got hurt? But Wyatt didn't want to see his mommy hurt.

"Awe you huwt mommy?"

"Mommy ain't hurt, kid, but she was a little upset so I'm guessing she should jump a little and have some fun, don't you think?" Whiskey winked at his son, who clapped his little hands excitedly and opened space for Jack to get inside the bounce house, so thrilled to have his parents to play with him.

He finally put you down but Wyatt held your hand tight "jump mommy!!! Play with me!"

Perhaps you were still very emotional, but just the fact you saw your son's happiness all over his gorgeous face, the way his bright innocent eyes lit up with excitement at your presence melted your heart and made you tear up. You nodded at him and pulled him for a tight hug "of course my love, mommy and daddy will play with you my angel" you said taking Jack's hand into yours and the three of you bounced together, slowly at first, but increasing the speed as Wyatt had more and more fun. If someone ever told you one day you'd be playing in a bounce house with your son and his father after you jumped into his arms and told him that yes, you were willing to marry him, you'd have laughed your ass off, thinking they were just crazy to make up the most absurd story but there you were, enjoying every single small detail you could. Your future husband and your son. Butterflies in your stomach swirled inside every time you thought of it: marrying Jack. You wanted it, but you were also scared. The rational side of you wanted to take things slow and wait, but the other part of you, the one driven by your heart, that barely could contain your feelings, just wanted your happy ending as soon as possible.

Tiredly sitting down, Wyatt joined you, getting comfortable on your lap and sighing happily, while Jack joined the two of you and pulled you closer. You three caught your breaths, in a comfortable silence that said a lot about how happy you were at that moment. You felt Whiskey's hand on your hair, tucking a strand of it behind your ear in such affectionate way, he had always been careful with it, he'd always loved it, the way it felt under his touch, always soft and smooth, the smell of it, burying his face into it so he could have a peaceful night of sleep. He moved some of it away from your neck, leaning in and pecking it, sending goosebumps all over your skin at the sudden contact. He eyes his son and smirked at how distracted his little boy was, so he kissed your neck again, more intensely this time, his teeth nibbling it at the same time you bit your bottom lip so you wouldn't moan out loud in a fucking inflatable toy.

"Better catch your breath, sugar, you'll be doing a lot of bouncing tonight…" he whispered against your ear loud enough so only you would hear it. Smirking at you with a dumb smile while picking up his stetson that had fallen while you were all playing and putting it back on. You'd broken the cowboy hat rule and it was about time you rode your cowboy. Yet, his words sent a fire sensation down your core, one that unabled you from thinking and the only thing you could mumbled was your cowboy's name. He chuckled and kissed your neck a third time, his mustache tickling your skin at the same time he placed his warm hand on your thigh, stroking it softly and watching how affected you were by his simplest touch.

"I-I think it's time for us to get inside, daddy will help you open your presents and mommy will make us a yummy dessert, what do you say?" You ran your fingers through your son's hair, getting your shit back together and wanting to get away from that bounce house as soon as possible. Jack's touches were enough to set you on fire and you needed to step away from him for a little while so you could catch your breath and act normal in front of your son, besides, you'd picked a bunch of fresh peaches and you wanted to prepare your cowboy his favorite pie, it would always make him happy when you did so and you just wanted to show him how important he was for you.

There was also the fact you knew your son always behaved and obeyed his dad, which meant that if Jack told him it was enough bouncing for the day, he wouldn't whine or try his dirty trick of giving you the sweetest and saddest puppy eyes seen by the human race. Whiskey could keep Wyatt entertained inside with opening his presents and playing and hopefully he would be tired in a matter of time, being safely tucked into bed and giving his mommy and daddy some much needed alone time. Jack nodded at Wyatt, who pouted at first but agreed on exiting after the promises of opening his presents. As the southern gentleman he was, your cowboy helped your son hop off the toy and then helped you, smirking up and down at your body. You knew that grin, that heavy breathing and how he stood at the entrance, stopping you from getting out, holding you and pressing you down against the bouncing floor, his lips once more teasing your skin, kissing up and down your throat, his mustache leaving soft burns all over you. You bit your lips, looking into his eyes, his brown ones shooting you a burning gaze; you knew him, his hunger for you, it was so intense he could take you right there, but you also knew how patient your cowboy could be when it came to teasing his soft little prey. His heavy breathing against your chest now, as he pulled the fabric of your dress down just enough to expose your cleavage, spreading ghostly kisses all over it, his teeth nibbling you gently at first, at the same time you let out a soft whimper.

"Jack, you're teasing me…" you whined as your cowboy chuckled, his hands going to the hem of your pretty dress, lifting it up, exposing your thighs for his delight.

"You want more, sugar? I bet you missed your cowboy, didn't ya?" He saw as you nodded "you've been so dirty for breaking the cowboy hat rule, how about I fuck you here? You don't even need help to bounce on my cock, would you like that, sweetheart? Being pounded like a little slut in an inflatable toy? Sounds like you're a whore for my cock, are you, baby girl?"

"Mm yes, cowboy" you bit your lips, squealing as his lips went for your stomach, pecking it all his way down the hem of your panties. You instinctively parted your legs for Jack, feeling his hands going under your thighs, going up until your round ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks. He loved the pleasure little sounds that came out of your filthy lovely mouth. He knew what you were capable of doing with his cock, but he needed to be patient. If he'd waited until that moment to savory you, he wouldn't rush things up now, so he ran his hands to your sides entwining his fingers on the sides of your panties, pulling them down and not breaking eye contact with you at all.

"What are you doing, Jack?" You asked him, feeling your cunt clenching at nothing, being so turned on at the simplest touch; no man could ever do that to you but your cowboy. He knew you entirely, knowing just how to press your buttons and play you like his toy.

He looked down at your naked pussy and it took him all of his willpower not to touch you right there and then, but he had further plans for you. Taking your panties off he chuckled at you, showing you the wet spot on the thin cloth and smirked "barely touched ya and you're already wet for me, angel… now let's see if you're still as sweet as I remember" the cowboy whispered his words hiding his obscene intentions at the same time he took your panties to his face, licking the puddle of your wetness, groaning at the taste before shoving your delicate piece of lingerie into his back pocket.

"You're still the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted, no wonder you're my sugar" he placed his hands on his waist and watched as you pulled your dress down and looked at him in a mix of embarrassment and desire. You pulled Jack by the shoulders, kissing him as deeply and intensely as you wanted, tasting yourself briefly on his lips, you felt you could stay there forever, if it weren't for Wyatt's voice interrupting you.

"Mommy!!! Daddy!!! We need to open the pwesents!" He shouted excitedly from the front door and you managed to cover yourself even more.

"Coming, cowboy!!!" Jack shouted back and waved at his son, who giggled and ran back inside. Then, he extended his hand towards you, helping you up but snapping your hand away from his back pocket

"They're mine now, sugar, so you better behave as your sweet cunt is now exposed for me" he winked at you and made you blush softly.

•••

"What awe you doing, mommy?" Wyatt tilted his head curiously as he stood next to you, watching your every move attentively, loving the smell of whatever mysterious dessert you were making and warming your heart at the fact your son was definitely just like his daddy: crazy about his peach pie.

"I'm making grandma Daniels recipe, honey: peach pie… your daddy used to love this dessert when he was little like you, his grandma would make it for him almost every week, and when mommy and daddy lived together, I also used to prepare it for him and he loved it!" You explained to your son, loving how surprised and happy he got at that information. While Jack was in the living room, picking up the shredded pieces of colorful paper that once gift-wrapped Wyatt's birthday presents. Since your cowboy took care of your son, you went to the kitchen to prepare his pie, being too agitated to focus on anything or nothing at all, it didn't matter if you wanted to actually distract yourself or not: all you could think of was Jack Daniels.

The way he had barely touched you and yet your whole body was set on fire, or the simple anticipation for the moment you would share in a little while, after all those years apart from each other, couldn't contain the lust you were feeling for that man. There was no denying you couldn't resist to him, he was intoxicating, poisonous even, the kind of touch to linger on you and make your skin burn at the memory, even if you'd freshened up and changed to another cute and tempting summer dress - without panties, respecting your cowboy wishes - you could still feel the warm slick pooling between your folds each time you moved. After going over all the amazing presents your son got, you decided to hide away in the kitchen hoping you'd be able to think of something else, but it was no use: your memory took you back to the bounce house.

Wyatt's presence helped you snap away from your wet daydreams as you explained to him all about the new sweet you were making, he was very curious and his tummy was very happy to know he would be trying that delicious treat soon. You had never eaten peach pie again, not after you and Jack broke up, it was one the small little things that reminded you of him and it made everything even more painful, but now you had no reason to dwell into that puddle of sadness any longer, you and the cowboy were back together, your family was happily united and you were so ready to be railed by your cowboy until sunlight.

Only when your son fell asleep though.

And by the excited way he was chatting and asking questions, it seemed it would still take a while; you chuckled to yourself at the situation, Jack had insisted on having another child and yet you two couldn't even handle one. It was one of those sweet ironies of life and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"I thought you said you'd climb upstairs and change into your new cow PJs so you would show mommy you're a big boy now?" Whiskey folded his arm and stared at Wyatt with a serious expression only to soften up and open his arms to his son, who giggled and ran to his daddy's embrace. Someone had gifted your son a new pair of cow themed pajamas and he was really excited to put it on, wanting you to see he could do it on his own. Your heart clenched at pride of seeing your son was growing up and becoming an independent little child and also at the fact perhaps he was growing up too fast. However, you lost your track of thoughts the moment he disappeared into the second floor running as fast as his little legs allowed him in order to get changed and the cowboy cornered you.

Feeling his presence on your back, he held your hips and pulled your body against his.

"I like this new dress, sugar… aren't ya all fresh and sweet for your cowboy? You know I've been thinking of this sweet pussy the whole night, right? You've been such a filthy little whore, breaking the cowboy hat rule on purpose, and all for what? Leaving me with a hard on? Getting this tight pretty pussy soaked for me?" His filthy words whispered like a prayer into your ears was more than enough reason for you to press your thighs together. The knot of anxiety, anticipation and lust all mixed up together in your lower belly just made you want to ignore everything around and spread your legs so he could take you right there. You were so slippery all he would need to do would be slide into you into one single motion and have his way with you. Never in your life, you thought you would be aching to be Jack Daniels' cum slut again.

He trailed more kisses down your neck towards your shoulder, at the same time he lifted your dress just enough to reveal your named ass cheeks, satisfied to see you didn't have anything on underneath it, exactly the way he liked you. Pressing his crotch against your ass, you finally felt the damage you'd left on your cowboy's pants. He was rock hard, probably had been for a while, and it was pretty satisfying to realize he was as affected by you, as you were by him.

The two of you were a match and no one could state it otherwise.

"Feel it, sugar… this is what you do to me. There ain't no other like you in the world, no other chick would ever be able to make me this hard, no one would ever be as sweet as you are, I can't wait to feel you all over me"

At his words, you grinded against his crotch. The low groan escaping his lips was enough for you to do it again, your naked ass cheeks grinding against his boner, hands tightening the grip on your hips as his own met yours at the same pace, pressing you harder against it so it would apply more pressure. He threw his head back, loving how it felt to be humping you like that, he was throbbing under his pants, seeking relief and hoping he would last a decent amount of time when he finally fucked you.

"Don't forget your cowgirl boots tonight, sugar… you gotta be dressed for riding" he gave your ass one soft slap as unfortunately, it didn't last long as small steps were heard coming down the stairs, so he lowered your dress carefully and sat at the kitchen table, pretending nothing had happened the minute Wyatt walked into the kitchen.

•••

You couldn't even believe it when your son finally closed his little eyes and went straight to dreamland. It seemed it'd taken forever for it to happen. You'd had enough time to finish baking your pie, letting it cool down and only after a glass of warm milk and two bedtime stories, Wyatt finally fell asleep. You told Jack you'd tuck your son into bed, while the cowboy went to his own, you knew he was probably sorting some things out which again, shot another wave of anticipation down your body. It felt kind of ethereal to know you would be sleeping together in a matter of time, but you were so excited and willing to submit yourself whole to your cowboy, and you could bet he was feeling just the same for you. Kissing your son's forehead goodnight, you left his bedroom as quietly as possible and went to your own, wanting to take a look at yourself and make sure you were looking alright for him. You got your cowboy boots and put them on, checking yourself in the mirror, you decided not to put on any lingerie, just your short light dress and your boots would be enough to ride your cowboy. You just brushed your hair a little and went to Jack's room.

Your heart was hammering on your chest, and you felt quite anxious. On the one hand you were going to come back to the pleasure you knew, loved and craved; on the other hand, it was almost like you were as nervous as when you lost your virginity. You would be officially Jack's and he would be yours, much to your happiness, you were about to become one again. You knocked on his door and bit your lips, looking down at your own boots as he opened the door, and you could see in his eyes he had all the Whiskey in him; your sweet Jack was out of the room and entered the dirtiest man you'd ever met: Agent Whiskey.

His leather jacket was gone, but he stood in his full cowboy glory, with his riding boots, tight jeans and stetson on, enough to make your mouth water and you crash your lips against his, feeling the hunger for that man overwhelming your judgment and your senses. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you. His hands went immediately to your ass, squeezing them and dragging a moan from you. Jack chuckled in between kisses and nibbled your bottom lip

"Remember you asked me for a date? I got one for ya, sugar" he winked and took you by the hand, guiding you to the balcony of his room, where a table was sat with two glasses and some of the finest beverages by Statesman. He pulled the chair for you, making sure to use his manners, and earning a sweet smile. That old broken heart of his wasn't that broken anymore, as it filled with love each time more, each time he spent next to you. He sat down, manspreading on his chair, which made you lick your lips, at the sight of his big bulge. He followed your eyes on him straight to his crotch and licked his own lips, smirking

"Guess you don't wanna go on a date, Suger?" You shook your head and he nodded, patting his thigh so you'd sit on it.

It didn't take you seconds to just jump from your seat to his lap, feeling so hot and bothered at the man's body so close to yours.

"I have broken the cowboy hat rule Jack, you gotta do something about it" you teased him, welcoming his lips for another kiss, at the same time his hands played with the straps from your dress, pulling them down and watched as the cloth ran down your perfect chest, exposing your tits for him.

"Look at that, sugar… how beautiful your tits are. I missed them" his thumb ran over your nipple, loving how it hardened under his touch. You were always so responsive to it, it pleased that cowboy to no end. He kissed your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin, not caring if he would leave a trail of hickeys all over it, getting his mouth onto your nipples, licking them gently, one at a time, before suckling on them, you were still as sensitive as he remembered.

"I want them fuller, sugar… I want to see your tits so damn big full of milk… too bad I missed it with our first cowboy, but I'm definitely putting a baby in you very soon…" he mumbled against your nipple before latching onto it and suckling on it once more. You took the stetson off his head, placing it on the table and burying your fingers into his soft hair, tugging at it gently as he took time with your breasts. You parted your legs shifting your weight and sitting on his thigh, lifting your dress up above your waist, your wet, slippery cunt straight against his rough jeans as you loved your hips slowly at first, closing your eyes and enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

His right hand went for your waist, holding you and helping you grind your needy count against his thigh. His jeans were thick and it made your clit so sensitive at the friction, Jack wouldn't leave your nipples, face buried deep between your breasts.

"How are you putting a baby inside if all you do is tease and not fuck me?" You blurted out, the impatience and the need for his cock making its appearance as you needed him. Jack frowned and stopped everything he was doing, holding you by the hips and swatted your ass hard, making you whimper and kissed you deeply, wanting to show you who was in charge there. The cowboy would take care of your dirty mouth and your tight sweet pussy. He broke the kiss and got his hat, placing it on your head. It was finally time for you to ride your cowboy.

•••

The way he got up, pulling you to him and carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, only added more lust to your hopeless case. You needed that man and you would do anything for him in order to fuck you; it would be too easy for him to lay on the bed and just fuck you there, he needed more, he wanted you to ride him, and he was definitely willing to have every inche of your body. Finally stripping you off your summer dress and having you standing in your naked glory in front of him with the exception of your riding boots and your hat, this cock was about to burst his pants. He was painfully hard, but he knew it was worth the wait. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled you closer, admiring every inch of you, he scanned your naked body meticulously as if it was the last time he would ever spot such beauty.

"Don't be shy, sugar" he cooed and kissed your stomach again, resting his head on it briefly and closing his eyes as if he'd said a prayer in gratitude for having his family back. Then, he quickly got rid of his clothes, kicking them out in a sloppy way here and there, before finally lying onto the mattress and relaxing. He pulled you on top of him, seeing you were ready to take his cock inside, but he wanted more than that, so he pulled you closer, towards his chest "ride your cowboy now, sugar, don't hold back though" giving you the order, even if it was in his soft voice. You understood perfectly what he wanted and you were going to give it to him. Getting even closer to his handsome face, you spread your thighs aiming his head between them, and lowered yourself, throwing your head back and letting out a loud and intense moan the moment you felt his devilish tongue against your slit.

He hadn't tasted sweeter sugar than you and he never would, because you were the only one he ever craved and wanted. His tongue explored your delicious cunt, running up and down your slit, going deep into your pussy hole until it finally settled on your hard needy clit. His hands showing you the pace, which you picked up quickly, of course still a little shy in the beginning, but moving as soon as the pleasure build up inside of you. You rode your cowboy's face, his perfect nose brushing against your clit as his perfectly trimmed mustache was a mess because of your wetness, you knew you were too close. It was only the first out of the many times you and Jack would spend together, for the rest of your lives, you reminded yourself. There was no need to try and make it last, you both couldn't wait. He was your honey, your sweetness and your knot was so tight in your lower belly, the moment he told you to let go, you did it without thinking twice; your pussy clenching and making a mess on your cowboy, your clit throbbing and so sensitive and yet, you just gathered the energy you had within and moved to his lap, knowing he couldn't wait any longer. You massaged his cock, you'd missed it his thick length so much, you missed teasing his leaking tip, caressing his heavy balls and making him cum as hard as he made you do the same, but now you didn't need to worry, because that would become your new routine, and you couldn't wait for it.

You held him by the base and sank your slippery cunt down his length, feeling him stretching you up the way no man ever had. When he got as deep as he could, you placed both hands on his chest to look for balance, before moving your hips the way you knew it drove Whiskey crazy. When you relationship began, shortly after you two had met years ago, he had joked he fell in love with you and the way you moved your hips while riding him, and there was some truth behind that; but it wasn't just that, it was everything else. That cowboy had fallen for you at first sight and there was nothing he wanted more than make you his forever. You fastened your pace, riding him and feeling how his cock throbbed inside of you, loving every second of it

"Come on Jack, give it all to me cowboy, it's your turn" you whispered to him, feeling another orgasm approaching and working on it, wanting to cum more, at the same time he finally let go and shot his load inside of it. You could feel every inch of him inside, his thick hot cum going as deep as it could reach and you only collapsed on top of him, resting your head on his chest while you tried catching your breath. Jack tried doing the same, since he was silent and it was quite difficult for that cowboy to ever shut up, it was the proof he was coming down from his bliss as well. You smiled lazily and pecked his chest, seeing how some of his chest hair was already going gray and felt a wave of affection for him.

Your Jack.

Your cowboy.

"I love you" you whispered against his skin, the confession everyone knew but you hadn't dared to say it out loud, not until that moment, but it was necessary, you wanted him to know, to hear about, to feel it, everything about your love. You loved that cowboy with all your heart and he loved you just the same, and from that moment on you two could finally be the family you were meant to be from the start.

____

A/N: I love this cowboy so much 😍😭🤠

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