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ginnsbaker · 8 months

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (21/23)

Chapter summary: Christmas Eve; A person from Wanda's past prompts another bout of jealousy in you; Wanda surprises you with a Christmas present; You and Pietro talk it out after the festivities

Chapter word count: 7.5k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Healing, Comfort | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: The second part of Christmas in LA. We continue wrapping up some relationships. Enjoy! :)

AO3 | Masterlist

Next part: Twenty-two

Twenty-One

Christmas Eve

The ride with Shannon begins in an uneasy silence. With the only sound being the hum of the car and the occasional directions from the GPS, the quietness feels heavy, making your palms sweat against the leather steering wheel.

“We need to pick up groceries first, then dry cleaning, and oh, there's a new shop selling artisanal cheese I've been dying to try,” she reels off her list of errands, her tone light and almost jovial, easing some of the tension in the car.

However, as the silence descends once again, there's a question that's been burning on your tongue since you stepped into her house, and it seems like the perfect opportunity to ask it.

“Shannon,” you start, your voice sounding unusually loud in the quiet car, “This might be a strange question, but...did you recognize me when I walked into your office for that interview at Stark Industries?”

There's a momentary pause, and you worry you've crossed some invisible line. But then Shannon chuckles, a light, easy sound, that oddly enough, puts you at ease.

“Well, I was wondering when you would ask,” she admits with a smirk. “Yes, I recognized you. But I didn't want to make things awkward by bringing it up.”

As you reach the grocery store and park the car, Shannon turns to you, offering a grateful smile. “Thanks for helping out, Y/N. It's been quite hectic with the preparations and all.”

On the way back, you spot a small coffee shop nestled between a bookstore and a flower shop. The sign in the window catches your eye–'Single Origin Beans' it reads, and you remember your conversation with Wanda on the plane.

“Shannon," you blurt out without taking your eyes off the signage. “Would you mind if we stop by that coffee store over there? I'd love to check out some of their beans."

She looks over to where you're pointing, and her face lights up in approval. “Oh, I've heard fantastic things about this place. Let's go.”

As you pull over, you can't help but think about Wanda and her upcoming competition, hoping that this little detour might just be the secret ingredient she needs to make her mark at the Cup-off.

As you and Shannon step into the shop, you are immediately enveloped by a blend of heady aromas–nutty, smoky, and unmistakably coffee. The smell is intoxicating, and you can't help but breathe it in deeply.

A world map on one wall is dotted with markers showing where their beans are sourced–Ethiopia, Colombia, Kenya, Indonesia, Guatemala, and more.

Shannon seems equally impressed, her eyes taking in the array of beans displayed in glass jars behind the counter, each labeled with its country of origin and tasting notes. She glances back at you, her gaze curious.

“You're into coffee as well?” she asks, opening a particular jar to sniff at its contents.

“Well, I love it. I’m the original coffee drinker between the two of us,” you clarify. “But I’m looking mainly for Wanda. She's the enthusiast. I'm... more of the support crew.”

“So Wanda only started drinking coffee because of you?”

“I suppose you could say that,” you say, your mind drifting back to an amusing memory of one of your early dates with Wanda. She had attempted to impress you by ordering your favorite drink, not realizing it was a bold concoction of three shots of espresso and nothing else. “Although I don’t think she enjoys drinking it as much as I do. It's more of a part of her daily routine now.”

A smile spreads across Shannon's face as she shakes her head. You give her a funny look and ask, “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Shannon shrugs off your question. “That girl is so head over heels for you.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Why would you say that?”

“She's taken something she's passionate about and turned it into something impactful. Something enjoyed by everyday people,” Shannon explains.

“I wouldn't exactly say coffee is her passion, though–”

“It's you, Y/N,” Shannon interjects, rolling her eyes playfully. “You are her passion. She excelled in coffee-making because it's something you love. And it's a beautiful thing, to shape a passion around someone you care about so deeply.”

“But it's rather strange, isn't it?” Shannon adds a while later. She digs her hand inside a bag of beans and takes a handful, then leans in to inhale its scent.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Well,” Shannon continues, “Considering how much she adores you, must be one of the universe’ greatest mysteries as to why she would ever cheat on you.”

You find yourself taken aback, unsure if you should feel insulted or if you should just brush it off. Her remark is quite out of the blue, and she doesn't seem to grasp how inappropriate it is. It seems that Shannon may be the sort of person who speaks without considering the impact of her words.

But, in her candid, albeit tactless, comment, you get a glimpse of another side of her–one that's less reserved and more carefree than you had initially perceived.

Before you can think of something to reply, a voice cuts in, causing you and Shannon to jerk your heads towards the source.

“Welcome! Can I help you find something particular?”

The voice belongs to the shopkeeper, an elderly gentleman sporting a smile as warming as a hot cup of chocolate. You return his smile with a slightly sheepish one, confessing, “I actually have no idea. My wif–my, uh, partner joined this annual coffee competition in NYC. I thought I might surprise her with some unique beans to experiment with.”

“Sounds like a wonderful gift!” he exclaims, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. He hobbles over to a nearby shelf filled with an array of coffee bags. “Well, if she's in a competition, I'd suggest trying a couple of different single-origin beans to get a variety of flavors.”

He reaches up to a shelf and pulls down a bag of coffee. “This here is a single-origin bean from Ethiopia. Known for its bright and fruity flavors, it's a favorite among many coffee connoisseurs.”

Setting that bag down, he moves over to another shelf. “And over here we have a single-origin bean from Colombia. This one has a richer, more full-bodied profile with notes of dark chocolate and a nutty finish.”

He hands both bags to you, his aged yet firm hands transferring the beans with a sense of reverence. “I think these two could provide some interesting flavors for her to experiment with. What do you think?”

A thoughtful hum escapes you as you consider the shopkeeper's recommendations. The Ethiopian and Colombian beans definitely sound like a good place to start, but you want to give Wanda something a little more... unexpected.

“Do you have anything else?” you ask. “Maybe something more unconventional? A wildcard, if you will.”

The shopkeeper looks at you for a moment, as if sizing up your level of coffee knowledge and daring. Then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Well, I do have something rather special,” he admits, leading you to the far corner of the shop.

He reaches behind a stack of bags, pulling out a smaller, unassuming bag. “This here is a single-origin bean from a tiny town in the northernmost region of Japan. It's not widely known for its coffee cultivation, but I have a friend there who has been growing these beans using a unique method. He's a former whiskey brewer and has applied some of the techniques from brewing to coffee cultivation.”

He hands over the bag and you take it, intrigued by the origin and backstory. The beans look slightly lighter than the other two bags, and you can almost smell the promise of a unique flavor profile.

“This is a real wildcard,” the shopkeeper adds with a wink. “It's unlike anything else you'll find. But tell your partner to be careful. These beans require a bit more finesse to fully bring out their complex flavors.”

You can't help but smile. This is exactly the kind of thing you were hoping to find. Something different and exciting for Wanda to work with, that would also show your support and faith in her skills. A perfect blend, in more ways than one.

“Seeing you so lovesick over your ex makes me want to gag,” Shannon comments, once you've finished your transaction with the shopkeeper.

You turn to her, eyebrow arched, “Are you always this tactless?”

She just laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet of the shop, and then completely ignores your question. “You know what? Now I see why you and Wanda are so perfect for each other.”

“And why is that?” you blink at her, intrigued despite yourself.

She shrugs, her smile knowing. “Because despite everything, you still do this shit like she’s the best thing that's ever happened to you. And I bet she’s the same.”

With those words, she heads out of the shop, leaving you standing there awkwardly, still processing her words. Her straightforwardness was unexpected but kind of refreshing. You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you follow her out.

“...Wh-Where was I?” Your words hitch as Wanda tenderly grazes her teeth over your jugular.

“You were saying that Shannon is kind of a bitch,” Wanda whispers, continuing her assault.

You chuckle lightly but it quickly transforms into a low moan. “Well, she is, but I think that's just her way of dealing with things.”

Wanda hums against your skin, a small laugh escaping her lips. “She certainly seems to have a unique perspective,” she concedes, withdrawing slightly to look you in the eyes. “But she's right about one thing.”

“And what would that be?” you ask breathlessly as you feel Wanda’s fingers trail their way up your stomach, under your shirt.

She gives you a teasing grin, the irises of her eyes pitch black as she playfully declares, “That you're smitten with me.”

You blink in surprise. “Wait, what? She said that?”

You feel Wanda’s smile against your skin before her tongue slips out to lick the sweat that has gathered under your ear. “Yes, she did. Told me right when you two got back home earlier.”

“Well, can't argue with that,” you concede, pulling her closer. The conversation drifts, forgotten, drowned in Wanda’s lips against yours and her hand squeezing your tit as she finally pushes her tongue inside your mouth.

“W-Wands,” you whine as your ex-wife’s other hand moves to cup you over your leggings. Wanda ignores you, rubbing your clit achingly slow as her tongue flickers in and out of your mouth, teasing you relentlessly.

“Wands,” you try again.

“What?” she husks out, her tone dripping with impatience and arousal.

“Is this a good idea? I mean… We… oh god,” you groan against her cheek when she slips her hand inside your underwear and zeroes in on your opening, collecting the wetness there before spreading them upwards towards your clit.

“Try saying that again, love?” Wanda murmurs with a smirk.

“Uh, w-we scheduled an appointment with–”

Your words fail you at this point when Wanda inserts a finger into your pussy, burying it two knuckles deep at once.

“Fuck–”

Wanda swallows your scream with a kiss, and she smiles as she feels the vibrations of your moans as she starts thrusting her finger in and out of your hole.

“I love it when you’re so loud, baby,” Wanda whispers into your ear before biting your lobe. “But we need to keep quiet. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

She senses your nod, but just as she's about to introduce another finger, your laptop interrupts with its ringing sound.

It’s a video call request from none other than your therapist.

You immediately extricate yourself from Wanda's grasp, causing her to groan in frustration at the untimely interruption. Your skin bears a heated flush and you hurriedly straighten your disheveled hair, trying to ignore how wet your inner thighs have gotten as you hit the accept button on the incoming video call.

There’s a satisfying grin on Wanda’s face as she observes the way you press your legs together, trying to relieve some of the tension she caused there.

“Y/N? Wanda? Can you hear me?” Calliope’s voice breaks through the speakers. The video is still loading and you can’t see her on the screen yet.

Understanding that the call includes her as well, Wanda quickly composes herself, matching your effort to regain decency. Both of you adjust your clothing, smooth down your hair, and take a deep breath.

“Am I disturbing anything?” Calliope inquires, an undercurrent of amusement lacing her tone. Your face turns a deeper shade of red at the hint of her insinuation, and you quickly shake your head in denial.

“With Christmas looming so near, I'd totally understand if you two prefer to reschedule–”

“No, it's okay,” you interject hastily. “Wanda and I are ready for this.”

The sound of Wanda's soft chuckle resonates beside you, and in a playful retort, you nudge her rib with your elbow. She responds with a firm, “Yes, we certainly are.”

Simultaneously, she reaches for your hand, weaving your fingers together in a comforting interlock, resting them gently on her lap. You smile inwardly, feeling more giddy about the intimate nature of this small action than the sex that almost happened.

Without further ado, Calliope delves directly into the agenda of this, your third session. She invites you and Wanda to share what your married life was like prior to the indiscretion, and you find yourself taking the lead.

“Honestly, it felt like we had a perfect marriage,” you start off. “Not just the marriage, but our entire life seemed idyllic. My career was progressing as planned. Wanda... She was my pillar, always there, always supportive.” You look at Wanda adoringly and in return, she offers a shy, hesitant smile, her eyes momentarily flickering away before meeting yours again. You don’t notice, but there’s something else there. Her demeanor has shifted ever since Calliope brought up the session’s main topic.

Her fingers tighten ever so slightly around yours as you continue, recounting the times when you both laughed together, celebrated successes, and held each other through tougher days.

“And it wasn't just that she was supportive,” you add, your voice catching slightly. “She was, and still is, my best friend. We shared everything.”

Wanda's quiet during your monologue. The room is silent except for the low hum of the laptop and the occasional soft exhale from Wanda. After a moment, Calliope's calm voice pierces the quiet.

“Thank you for sharing that,” she says. “Wanda, would you like to share your perspective now?”

Wanda nods and lets go of your hand, her eyes filled with a somber resolve, her voice quieter when she finally speaks.

“Over the course of our five-year marriage, I was mostly content–happy. However, I often found myself feeling like a shadow, rather than an…equal partner.”

You whip your head towards Wanda, but her eyes stay stuck on the laptop screen. It takes a few seconds longer before she finally turns her gaze towards you and says, “For the last few months before I–before what happened–it felt like I was just trailing behind you, almost constantly. But it's not your fault.

“I was grappling with feelings of inadequacy when I... made that mistake,” she continues, her voice faltering slightly as she alludes to her infidelity. “I was in a state of confusion, and despite your joy and accomplishments, I was unable to share in that same level of happiness,” Wanda finishes.

Just when you believe you're set for an easygoing session, life throws you a curveball. It seems each encounter with Calliope pops the cozy bubble you've created with Wanda. Each time you're certain you've navigated the thickest of storms, another one brews on the horizon, causing your heart to question–yet again–the durability of this second shot at a relationship with your ex-wife.

Wanda swallows hard, before adding, “And then there was the struggle to start a family. You were the one who wanted children, but when it got tough... I felt like I was in it far deeper than you were. You were supportive, yes, but it felt like I was alone in the intensity of wanting it, needing it.”

“What made you feel like I wasn't with you through this?" you ask, a tinge of frustration seeping in your tone.

She takes a moment before responding, “When I couldn't get pregnant, you seemed so quick to dismiss our failure... it made me feel even more isolated.”

You shake your head. She couldn’t be further from how it really was for you, but you can’t blame her if that was how she felt during those times.

“I'm sorry if it seemed like I was dismissive,” you whisper as memories play back in your mind, each one revealing nuances you hadn't recognized at the time. “It wasn't my intention to belittle our struggle. I guess... I just didn't want to see you in more pain than you were already in. I thought being optimistic and pushing forward would help us cope, but I see now how that might have come across as indifference.”

“Weren't you upset with me?” Wanda asks, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We invested so much for me to conceive and... and I failed. Do you... do you resent me for that?”

“Wanda,” you say, your voice choked with emotion, “I never cared about the money. And you didn't fail. It's a process, and sometimes it's a tough one. But I don't resent you, not for a moment. My disappointment was never with you, but with the situation. I felt...helpless.”

“Helpless,” you reiterate, your eyes steadfastly meeting Wanda's. “Because I was at a loss on how to support you... how to alleviate your pain.”

Your voice, once steady, falters slightly as you confess, “Each doctor's appointment, every unsuccessful attempt... It felt like I was failing you, like I couldn't provide the comfort or solution you needed.”

You draw a shaky breath before adding, “And in my helplessness, I pushed for us to move forward right away. But now I realize...it might have felt to you like I was dismissing your pain, dismissing our shared struggle. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Wanda murmurs, her voice heavy with regret. There's a softness in her gaze as she looks at you. “I’m sorry for not telling you what I was feeling.”

Just as you're about to respond, Calliope cuts in. “The reason I asked you both to share your perspectives on your marriage before is to gauge the level of openness and communication between you two. Communication is one of the key bridges to trust. If we understand where we each stood before, we can better see clearly where we want to go.”

With this new revelation, you can't help but wonder about other instances where your and Wanda's perspectives may have diverged significantly.

It makes you wonder, what other moments had been experienced so differently by the two of you? How many times have you found yourselves adrift on separate pages of the same story?

A cold shiver of uncertainty sweeps through you. You're not sure you're ready to dive deep into the past, to unpack five years of the life you had shared with Wanda.

The thought of your dissolved marriage possibly being built on illusion rather than truth feels scary, like realizing a favorite story might not be as real as you once thought.

The topic left untouched so far is how this disconnect relates to Wanda's act of infidelity. Despite your discomfort, the question lingers in your mind: If you were to misunderstand her feelings once more, would it drive Wanda away again?

You hold your tongue for the time being. Maybe there'll be a moment later to wrestle with this thought... or perhaps, you find yourself wishing, it might simply fade away with time.

A couple of hours later, you and Wanda find yourselves working together in the kitchen. The session with Calliope has ended on a less intense note (thankfully) with an anecdote about her cat after Wanda made a request for Calliope to share something about herself for a change.

Afterwards, Calliope, not one to shy away from uncomfortable questions, had boldly asked about your and Wanda's physical intimacy. In response to your surprised silence, she suggested a temporary pause on sexual activities. Her reasoning was that sex, while a key component in a relationship, could sometimes blur the perception of the emotional state of the partnership and hinder the process of rebuilding trust.

In place of physical intimacy, Calliope suggested an exercise known as “Eye Gazing”. The idea was simple: sit across from each other in a quiet room, looking into each other's eyes without speaking. It's an exercise designed to foster emotional connection and understanding, without the distraction of words.

As you stir the simmering soup and Wanda deftly slices the vegetables, the appetizing smell of your evening meal fills the room. The intensity of the session's discussions seems to recede, replaced by the cheer that Christmas Eve unfailingly brings as it approaches.

“Mom's home!” Pietro yells from outside, his voice bubbling with excitement over the Taylor Swift songs that Shannon has playing in the kitchen. Shannon's taken charge of directing the preparation of the prime rib and turkey, even though she's doing little more than calling the shots. It's almost as if she's forgotten that there's a seasoned cook in the house–someone who actually runs their own food and beverage business.

Wanda freezes at Pietro’s announcement and you put a hand on the small of her back and lean in to ask, “Are you okay?”

She nods and assures you further with a smile.

A few seconds later, the arrival of the twins’ mother is heralded by her appreciative comment about the tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen. You've only seen Iryna twice. The first time was when you drove Wanda to her hometown for a visit, and the last time was at a hospital, following a drug overdose just before you and Wanda tied the knot–an incident that was the final push for Wanda to sever all ties with her.

She appears significantly healthier compared to the grim memory etched in your mind. Her skin has a renewed vitality to it, and she's gained enough weight to fill out the hollow cheeks that you recall. Without the traces of addiction evident on her physique, she’s a dead ringer for Wanda.

You stop what you're doing, curious to see the reunion that would unfold.

Pietro’s arm is slung over Iryna’s shoulders as she laughs at something her son said. Wanda appears small and uneasy in the corner, waiting for her mother's recognition, uncertain whether she should be the one to make the first move.

“Wanda, dear!” Iryna calls out to Wanda with a wide smile, but as she makes her way to her daughter, she is intercepted by Shannon who greets her with a kiss on the cheek and engages her briefly in small talk. Wanda looks on, the corners of her lips downturned, and you can almost see the conflict of emotions in her wide, green eyes.

Finally, Pietro pulls his pregnant wife aside so that Iryna can have her moment with Wanda.

“Iryna,” Wanda murmurs, her voice choked with emotion. As her mother comes to a stop in front of her, Wanda can't help but notice how the years have softened her features.

“Hello, Dove,” Iryna's voice is tender, brimming with an affection Wanda had almost forgotten. Without another word, Iryna wraps her arms around Wanda, pulling her into a hug that feels like home.

Wanda stiffens momentarily, the walls she's built over the years making her hesitate. But as her mother's familiar scent fills her senses, she can't help but let go, letting the warmth of the hug thaw her frozen heart. Her hands tentatively rise, resting on her mother's back.

Tears prick at her eyes, tears she stubbornly fights back. She'd told herself countless times she never wanted to see her mother again, that she could live without her. But standing here, enveloped in her, she realizes just how much she had missed Iryna. At the same time, this woman feels like a new person, and she realizes she’s more than willing to embrace this opportunity to get to know her.

“Hey, where should I put this?”

All heads swivel toward the door where a man stands, holding a case of beer and sporting a friendly smile. With his chiseled features and confident posture, he could easily be mistaken for a model straight out of a Men's Health magazine. Around your age and undeniably attractive, your eyes quickly dart to Wanda, trying to read her reaction.

Wanda looks genuinely surprised, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the newcomer.

And there it is again, that constricting feeling in your chest, the sudden, inexplicable need to claim Wanda as yours and yours alone. You're unable to shake off the feeling, even as you remind yourself that Wanda's reaction is likely just a response to an unexpected guest.

You should trust her, after all.

Pietro is the first to recover from the surprise, a grin breaking across his face. “Tom!” he exclaims, laughing as he moves to take the beer from him. “Kitchen counter's fine.”

You wrack your brain to place this “Tom,” mentally sifting through the countless Maximoff family photos you've seen, but come up empty.

But then, as he strides towards Wanda with a familiarity that tugs at a memory, it suddenly clicks.

Yes, Tom. Wanda and Pietro's childhood friend, and also Wanda's ex-boyfriend.

“I forgot to mention,” Pietro starts, turning to the rest of the room with an apologetic grin, “Tom, our friend from back home, recently moved to town. He's new here and doesn't really know anyone yet, so I thought he could join us for tonight's dinner.”

A casual round of handshakes and friendly smiles makes its way to Tom, each person sharing a word or two of welcome.

When the introductions circle back to you, you accept his handshake, offering your name and a casual, “Merry Christmas,” before excusing yourself to grab a beer from the fridge.

A second later, Wanda is at your side, her fingers finding yours. She leans close to your ear and murmurs, “I've told you about Tom, right?”

“Your ex-boyfriend?” You keep your tone neutral. “Yeah, you did.”

“Yup, that's him,” she confirms, nodding in his direction, her eyes searching yours for any signs of distress.

Finding your gaze locked onto Tom, you can't help but analyze him in every way. It's not your nature to be the jealous type, but after Wanda's affair, insecurity has a way of creeping into your thoughts every now and then. Perhaps Calliope hit the nail on the head; having sex with Wanda frequently might have lulled you into a false sense of security.

Meanwhile, Wanda's eyes are trained on you, her attention riveted to your reactions. Her indifference to Tom's presence is obvious, but you miss this entirely, too occupied with quelling the unexpected stir of jealousy within you.

She squeezes your fingers to get you to look at her, and when you do, you see nothing but total devotion in those green orbs.

“Why don't we get back to our cooking, huh?” she suggests with a small, warm smile.

It’s a reprieve from being helpless to your not entirely baseless worries. That’s Wanda for you–always able to draw you back, grounding you in moments like this.

Dinner is a massive success. Shannon revels in the praise, beaming with satisfaction. You and Wanda let her take all the credit, just happy to see everyone enjoy themselves.

Iryna keeps everyone entertained with funny stories from when Wanda and Pietro were kids, and the whole table is laughing. Tom joins in, too, sharing some memories and even shooting friendly smiles at you and Wanda. It still bothers you a little, but seeing Wanda enjoy herself helps you push it aside.

You can't help but watch Wanda throughout the evening. She's completely caught up in the Christmas cheer, her eyes lighting up like the twinkling lights around the room. Every once in a while, she looks your way, and when your eyes meet, you feel a warmth that's hard to describe.

After eleven years together, you'd think the initial thrill would fade, the love might settle into something comfortable and familiar. But with Wanda, it's different. It's almost frightening how you keep falling for her harder as the years go by.

Fortunately, no one bothers to reminisce about Tom and Wanda’s dating history, and you’re grateful for everybody’s consideration and respect for you and Wanda’s attempts at a reconciliation.

Still, a knot tightens in your stomach each time you notice Wanda and Tom sharing a knowing smile over Pietro's tales from their hometown. Your grip on your cutlery hardens as Tom attempts to engage Wanda in a casual chat or praises her culinary skills.

You find yourself imagining quite a few things, your mind drifting to their shared past and what they might have once been to each other. The more you think about it, the more you spiral into an unpleasant series of what-ifs and maybes.

Silently, you push your chair back and stand, excusing yourself. Except for Wanda, they don’t find anything amiss at your departure, their cheerful chatter resuming unimpeded.

A minute or so later, Wanda takes her leave as well, seeking you out. She discovers you in the guest room, the one both of you have been sharing, standing on the balcony, staring off into the distance.

She joins you at the balcony, her hand instinctively finding yours. “Is everything okay?” she asks, her voice soft, threading with concern.

In front of you, the landscape of Los Angeles stretches out, utterly unlike the steel jungle of New York you're used to. There are hills undulating in the distance, a patchwork of houses and greenery, the quiet echo of the ocean's waves caressing the shore, and an abundance of space that makes you feel both small and infinite at once.

Her thumb gently rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“Talk to me,” she gently urges.

You've always prided yourself on your level-headedness, your rational thinking. But jealousy... It is a powerful emotion, tearing at the edges of your pride.

“I don't know how to say this without sounding pathetic,” you sigh, your eyes dropping to where your fingers are entwined. “But watching you and Tom, laughing and sharing stories, it stirred up feelings I didn't expect. I felt... jealous. And I know it's ridiculous and irrational. I know you're not... you're not going to just... But I can't help how I feel.”

The confession leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You don't know what you're expecting Wanda to say. An apology, reassurance, a confession of her own perhaps. The silence stretches, heavy and awkward, but you can't find the courage to look at her.

“I get why you're feeling this way. It's because of me. Because of what I did… and I’m sorry for that,” Wanda’s voice comes out hoarse from laughing so many times at the dinner table.

It’s becoming a pattern: you being upset and Wanda apologizing over and over again. And it’s not even her fault this time.

“I can't control how you feel, and I don't want to pretend that I know what you're going through. But what I can do is keep showing up for you, keep proving that I'm all yours. That's all I can do, and that's what I promise,” she says. She moves closer, hugging you from behind, her arms encircling your waist. You feel her chin resting on your shoulder, and her warmth begins to envelop you. You let out a soft sigh.

Her honesty strikes a chord within you. You look at her, her eyes reflecting the moonlight, and in that moment, you want to believe her.

You want and want and want. But when does the wanting transform into reality?

Still keeping her hold, she murmurs in your ear, “You know, I think now might be a good time for your Christmas gift.”

You turn to face her in surprise, the earlier heavy conversation momentarily forgotten. “A Christmas gift?” you echo, and she simply nods, her smile widening a touch.

“Yep, and I've been holding onto it for the right moment,” she explains, releasing you from her embrace to reach into her pocket. She retrieves a small box, its exterior adorned with intricate details and a shiny ribbon.

Her eyes find yours, alive with anticipation and a flicker of nervousness that is so uncharacteristic of her. She hands the box over to you, maintaining eye contact all the while.

"Go on, open it," she urges.

You look at her once more before directing your attention to the small package in your hands. Unraveling the ribbon and lifting the lid, you're met with a glint of silver catching the ambient light.

Inside the box lies a delicate silver chain, a pendant attached at its center. The pendant is a small compass, intricately detailed and with a vintage aura. What surprises you more is the small photo inside the compass. It's a picture of you and Wanda, the first one you took together as friends inside a photobooth.

Your breath catches in your throat as you carefully lift the necklace from its cushioned home. You can't take your eyes off the image. It's a snapshot of a time when you both were deeply in love but unaware of it, where everything was fresh and new and brimming with hope and ambition.

A memory of pure, undiluted happiness.

“Wanda…” you start, feeling an inexplicable lump in your throat.

“I know we can't go back in time,” she interrupts softly. “But this...this is my promise to you. I want to go forward, create more moments like these, and give you a reason to trust me again.”

You glance at the necklace in your hand, then at the one adorning Wanda's neck–the necklace that carries her wedding ring. An overwhelming desire washes over you to remove it from its chain and place it back where it truly belongs: on Wanda's finger. But you swiftly check yourself. You're moving too fast, allowing your hopes to get ahead of reality. You resolve to not act impulsively, to not assume anything.

You turn in Wanda’s arms to face her, a sheepish grin on your lips. “You know, I also got you a Christmas gift,” you confess, a bit hesitant. “Though it's nothing compared to this, and now I feel... a little embarrassed.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with anticipation and a hint of amusement. She releases you and steps back, crossing her arms in front of her. “Oh, really? And here I thought you were going to outdo me,” she teases, chuckling at the red hue now spreading across your cheeks.

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing there's no way you can compete with the sentimentality of her gift. “Just... don't laugh, okay?” you warn her, but she's already grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Nervously, you reach into your suitcase, pulling out a box about the size of a shoebox, wrapped carefully in nondescript brown paper. As you hand it over to Wanda, your heartbeat escalates, thumping loudly in your ears.

“I just... I mean, it's nothing grand like yours,” you stutter, your cheeks flushing. “It feels a bit silly now, to be honest.”

Wanda merely smiles at you. “Stop it, I'm sure it's wonderful.”

Gently, she tears into the paper wrapping, unveiling a box. Inside it, three distinct bags of single-origin coffee beans sit.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she takes in the contents of the box. “You got me coffee?” she echoes, an undertone of laughter coloring her voice.

Nodding bashfully, you say, “Yeah, I figured it could come in handy for the Cup-off.”

A chuckle escapes Wanda, and she lifts one of the bags to her nose, inhaling deeply. “These smell incredible,” she says, grinning at you. “This is such a thoughtful gift. Thank you. It’s just perfect.”

Your chest warms as you watch Wanda cradle the bags of coffee, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

“I’m sure this will help me make the best cup,” Wanda says.

You pull her in for a short but sweet kiss and say, “You already do.”

Much later, when everyone’s dozing off (Shannon) and catching up in small groups (Wanda and Iryna), Tom bids his goodbye to everyone, much to your relief. Your discomfort around him lingered in the background, even as you and Wanda returned to the living room to continue the celebrations and watch everyone else exchange Christmas presents.

Just as you're beginning to feel a bit more relaxed, Pietro approaches you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hey, mind if I steal you for a second?” he asks, nodding towards the garden visible through the glass doors.

Puzzled, you glance at Wanda, but she’s in a deep and serious conversation with her mother.

You shrug your shoulders and say, “Sure, Pietro, lead the way.”

He walks you out into the cool night; it’s completely quiet except for the serenade of crickets hiding in the backyard.

Pietro settles onto a stone bench, and then gestures for you to join him.

As you take a seat, he fishes out a rolled blunt from his pocket. You merely raise an eyebrow and shake your head, waving away his offer.

His smirk broadens at your reaction. “Well, maybe it's worth a try. Might help you chill out a bit,” he suggests with a teasing note in his voice.

“No, thanks. I’m chill as it is,” you say.

“Really? Because I couldn't help but notice you weren't so 'chill' when Tom was around earlier.”

You hesitate, not expecting Pietro to call you out like this. “Was it that obvious?”

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. He then takes a generous puff of his blunt before exhaling slowly.

Suddenly, Pietro looks you in the eyes and asks, “Do you love Wanda?”

The directness of the question catches you off guard, more so than his earlier suggestion to try a blunt. You’re slightly offended that he feels the need to ask you this.

When you remain quiet and withdrawn for a long time, Pietro speaks again. “It’s not a rhetorical question by the way. I do want to know if you love Wanda.”

Finally, you turn towards him, brow furrowed, a hint of indignation in your eyes. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one. Do you love my sister?”

Yes.

Always.

Nevertheless.

The answer has always been clear to you, but instead, you return the volley. “Why are you asking? What's this about?” You challenge, more skeptical now about his motives behind such a question than providing him with an answer.

He meets your gaze, an uncharacteristic intensity in his eyes. “Because if you really loved her, why did you let it come to this?” he asks pointedly. “Why did you let things fall apart? Why didn't you fight for your marriage? You hurt her, Y/N. You hurt my sister.”

He continues, “And I know the extent of how much you hurt her. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Wait, what?” You choke out, disbelieving.

Pietro simply shrugs. “It was me,” he repeats, his voice steady, unrepentant. “I was the one who sent you that photo of Wanda in the hospital. I wanted you to see. To know.”

The shock is enough to rob you of words. Shame wells up inside you.

He smirks in satisfaction and mumbles to himself, “Yeah, that kinda felt good.”

The words seem to get stuck in your throat; they press in on you, making it hard to breathe.

Finally, you find your voice, though it comes out as more of a whisper, your eyes fixed on a nondescript point on the floor. “At that time... I was so deeply hurt. I believed, truly believed, that Wanda didn't love me anymore.” You swallow hard, your throat feeling painfully dry.

“And I didn't want to fight for our marriage because... I was scared. Scared to fail if I tried, scared to prolong the agony only to find out in the end that there’s nothing to save.” Your voice cracks slightly, as if the wound is still fresh despite the passage of time.

Even now, you can't say that you're a hundred percent confident that Wanda's love for you is certain. Perhaps nothing she does will ever completely assure you. Maybe this time, it's really up to you to have faith.

“I just wanted the pain to stop. So, I did the only thing I thought would help. I... I walked away,” you finish, staring into nothingness as the memory of your decision reverberates painfully within you.

Pietro falls silent, his eyes narrowing as he studies you, taking in what you've said. Then, with a penetrating look, he says, “Sounds more like you wanted to be the one to walk away first.”

You blink at him, taken aback. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes are sharp. “You just didn't want to be the one left behind.”

A part of you can't deny it–perhaps you did preemptively end things out of fear of being the one left behind. A self-preservation measure that's caused more harm than good. But admitting that to yourself is another thing entirely, let alone to Pietro.

“Maybe,” you concede after a moment. “But can you blame me for it? You’ve never been in my shoes. Have you ever paused to consider what it was like for your ex-wives? What it was like for Shannon?” Your voice rises with each question, frustration finally breaking free from its confines.

Pietro looks at you, his expression inscrutable for a moment, before he gives you a curt nod.

“Touché,” he admits grudgingly, and then attempts a chuckle. “We suck at celebrating this Christmas thing together, aren’t we?”

Despite everything, the corner of your mouth twitches up in a small, matching smile. But then it’s gone almost instantly because the topic of loving Wanda is something you’ve always taken seriously.

“I think things would’ve been worse if I didn’t walk away. I was in a really dark place. I only realized it when several months later, seeing the bastard she slept with sent me off the rails.

“If I hadn't stepped away, things would've gotten even worse,” you explain. “It felt like I was stuck in never-ending darkness, with no hope of seeing the dawn. It was really bad. I didn't know how much until I ran into that guy she cheated with, months later. I just completely lost it.”

“That... actually makes a lot of sense,” Pietro says, his tone softer than before. “It might not have been the best approach, but I get it. It's tough to see things clearly when you're caught in a storm, isn't it?”

You nod, grateful for his understanding. This empathy from Pietro, who usually comes across as nonchalant, helps ease some of the tightness in your chest.

“But then,” Pietro continues, locking eyes with you. “That still leaves my question unanswered. Despite everything that's happened... Do you love Wanda?” His tone is serious, almost challenging, making it clear that he expects an honest answer this time.

You give him your answer this time.

***

You and Wanda arrive back in Manhattan around noon the next day.

The plane touches down smoothly on the John F. Kennedy runway, marking the end of an unforgettable weekend. As you collect your belongings, you turn to Wanda, gratitude in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you say, sincerity lacing your voice. “This weekend... It was something special. Really.”

Her lips curl into a soft smile as she meets your eyes. “I'm glad you had a good time,” she says. “But now, it's back to work. The coffee showdown won't prep itself.”

“Need any help with that?” you ask, eager to stay close, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

She looks at you, her eyes wide with surprise, then her face softens into a grateful smile. “You're probably worn out from the trip,” she says, “and honestly, it might take me all night to get it right.”

Undeterred, you reply, “Well, you need a test subject, right?”

She thinks about it some more.

“I promise I won't be biased. I won’t just say everything tastes delicious,” you add, trying to win her over.

Her laughter rings through the air as she finally nods, accepting your offer. “Alright, you're on.”

What follows is an all-night coffee marathon, filled with experimentation, flirty banter, and more cups of coffee than you can count.

Despite the late hour and the caffeine jitters, you wouldn't have it any other way.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

Paris (Superstar Chapter 5)

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

Roy and the Reader continue to see each other in secret while the AFC Richmond goes on a road trip.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.2k words

Warnings: Language, suggestive references, mentions of adults drinking adult drinks, Roy Kent showing lots of green flags, fluff because boy did I need it after the last couple chapters

“Don’t fucking go,” Roy grumbled, grabbing a fistful of the too-big Richmond shirt I wore and pulling me back towards him.

“Just getting some water,” I murmured, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

Moonlight made his skin glow pale as he started to sit up, groaning quietly. “Lemme get it for you.”

I pushed his chest back down, my fingertips brushing against thick hair. “I’ll be right back,” I huffed with a giggle. I pressed a hard, sloppy kiss to his lips before climbing out of his bed, tugging at the hem of the shirt he’d given me to wear in place of proper pyjamas.

Despite my drowsiness, I practically skipped down the stairs, my heart full of something I wasn’t quite ready to name yet. After we’d had a good talk about everything that happened at the fundraiser and what we wanted out of our newly established relationship, Roy had pulled out a homemade chocolate dessert to share, and things had escalated in ways that made me blush to think about.

A mumbled love song lingered on my lips as I opened and closed cupboards to find a cup I could use, straining to see in the dark. The glowing green numbers on the stove read 3:56. Perfect. That was plenty of time before I had to head home and get ready for brunch with Keeley and Rebecca. I could go back to bed and cuddle and maybe even wake up Roy for another round-

“Good mornin’.”

“Fuck!” I shrieked, trying to pull down Roy’s shirt to cover my lower half as a bright light shone on me. I squinted at the figure across the kitchen. “Jamie?!”

Jamie Tartt stood there, dressed for a run and wearing a shining light on his head. “Er, is Roy home?” Even in the dark, I could see him trying to avert his eyes from my figure. “We’re supposed to go for a run. I let myself in, sometimes he forgets to lock his side door…”

My entire body burned with embarrassment. “I, um, I-” I tried desperately to think of a reason, some excuse, to explain why I was half naked in Roy Kent’s kitchen, but nothing came to me.

“Oi! Tartt!” Roy stormed down the stairs, still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. “The fuck d’you think you’re doing here?” he bellowed as he flipped on the kitchen light. “I fucking texted you to run on your own today.”

Jamie’s mouth formed a perfect O as Roy towered over him. “Shit, I lost my phone at the party on Friday. Think one of the papps nicked it. Keeley’s picking me up a new one today after brunch.” He shrugged. “Sorry, Coach.”

Roy’s face and whole chest were red with rage. “Well now you fucking know. So get the fuck out.” His eyes landed on me as I tried to strategically hide myself behind the kitchen island. He glared back at Jamie. “And don’t fucking tell anyone about this. Or I’ll slice your prick off, have it properly taxidermized, and give it to Keeley as a fucking Christmas gift.”

“We’re just trying to keep things private for a bit,” I clarified to Jamie, who still looked confused. “This… thing is still new, and we’d just like to not tell everyone at work yet.”

Jamie nodded, blinking a few times. “Nah, I geddit. Don’t need the other gaffers and the guys givin’ you shit.” He gave a small salute to Roy. “See you Monday, Coach.” Then he shot finger-guns at me. “And you have fun with Keeley later, yeah? I promise I won’t tell her about-” He pointed back and forth between Roy and me. “-this thing.”

Roy shadowed Jamie all the way from the kitchen to the front door, slamming it shut behind the player. When he came back into the kitchen, his face instantly softened. “Sorry ’bout that,” he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Fuckin’ Jamie Tartt, losing his fucking-”

I approached Roy and wrapped my arms around his middle, blushing at the feeling of his bare skin. “Don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “I highly doubt Jamie’ll tell anyone. That threat of yours was painfully vivid.”

Roy’s body relaxed against mine as he wrapped an arm lazily around my shoulders, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “I know a real good taxidermist, too,” he grunted.

“Lovely,” I snorted, lifting my head to look up at Roy’s face. We exchanged sleepy smiles. “Hi,” I hummed.

“Hi,” he whispered. He bent his head towards me, touching his lips to mine so softly I could barely feel them. “Wanna go back to bed? Get a bit more sleep before you gotta head home?”

My cheeks warmed as I gazed back up at him, my heart purring. “I wanna go to back to bed,” I began slowly. “But… I don’t want to sleep.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up. “In that case-” He lifted me and threw me over his shoulder, giving me a light smack on my butt as he carried me back upstairs, my squeals of laughter echoing throughout the house.

It took all my strength to pry Roy’s muscular arms off me later that morning. He proposed that I cancel on Keeley and made several other suggestions about how I could spend my time, all of which had me red in the face and rolling my eyes as I gathered my clothes off his bedroom floor.

Roy Kent is absolutely smitten with me, I hummed to myself as I drove to brunch, my mobile vibrating to let me know that Roy Kent⚽ was texting me for the dozenth time since I’d left his house that morning, asking me to change my mind and come back. After finding a parking, I silenced my text notifications, not wanting to give either of my friends an opening to ask why in the world my officemate was texting me so obsessively on my day off.

Heading into brunch. Call you after I typed as I walked towards the restaurant, not bothering to hide the wide grin on my face.

“Ooh, is someone sending you a dirty picture?” I jumped as Keeley hooked her arm through mine. “Is it Roy?”

I quickly stuffed my phone into my purse, hoping she hadn’t seen the number of heart-emojis on the screen. “Ha. Hello to you too, Keeley.”

Keeley kissed my cheek as we entered the restaurant. “Come on, I need all the details,” she demanded. “Please, I’m dying!”

We quickly found Rebecca and settled in with drinks and food. The conversation almost immediately turned to Rebecca’s party, which she declared a success.

“Oh, but what about…” Keeley nodded to me. “You know…”

Rebecca raised her eyebrows as she swallowed the champagne she’d been drinking. “What? Did I miss something?”

Before I could explain in a way that didn’t worry my boss, Keeley leaned forward. “Okay, Roy thought that Richard had done something, you know, unseemly to this one.” She waggled her eyebrows and nodded towards me. “So, Roy tried to actually murder Richard, and Jamie and I took them to a side room so they wouldn’t cause a scene- yes, I know, I’m a great PR person, you’re very welcome- and these two-” Another nod towards me. “-had some weird, very sexy energy between them. Then they were alone in that room for a while and when they came out Roy actually danced. Twice.” Keeley smirked at me. “Let me repeat, Roy Kent danced.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows flew higher and higher with each word out of Keeley’s mouth. She gawked at me. “Holy shit, are you and Roy shagging?” she gasped.

“I mean this with all due respect because you’re my boss, but sod off, Rebecca,” I grumbled. “Keeley’s exaggerating. There was a misunderstanding with Richard, Roy was a tad drunk and got carried away trying to be protective, we calmed him down, and he was a perfect gentleman to me, his friend.” Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend.

“Don’t listen to her Rebecca,” Keeley teased. “She’s completely in love with Roy and he’s just as smitten. In fact, Jamie was telling me-”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “What did Jamie say?” I tried to keep my voice even and my face uninterested; deep down, I knew I was failing. There is no way Jamie would tell her. No fucking way.

Keeley smiled; she knew she was winning this game. “Just that you and Roy are always holed up in your office together. He brings you lunch all the time. Sometimes gives you a ride home from work. And Jamie swears that Roy’s been less brutal during their training since the day you started at Richmond.”

Rebecca nodded. “I can’t help but notice that you two are practically attached at the hip at work,” she added sheepishly.

“Well, yeah, Roy says I give him a break from having to talk to Ted and Beard all day.” They didn’t need to know that he’d mumbled that while half-asleep in bed that morning.

Keeley was now completely smug. “The man’s in love with you,” she declared with finality.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s called friendship, Jones. Try it sometime.”

“It’s called romance, babe. And you and Roy Kent should try it sometime.”

“How about Much Ado About Nothing? With Emma Thompson?”

“Fuck no!” bellowed Roy from the couch as I walked back into his living room, carrying a beer for each of us.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on Roy, a little Shakespeare won’t kill you.”

He sat up, baring his teeth at me. “I fucking hate Kenneth Branagh,” he growled, accepting the beer I handed him. “With his fucking around on Emma Thompson. What a prick. The woman’s a treasure.”

“Oh.” I stared at him for a moment, ever amazed at the things that flew out of his mouth. “So, do you hate Helena Bonham Carter as well then?”

Roy shook his head, making room for me on the couch. “Nah. Emma Thompson and her made up. No bad blood there.” He took a sip of his beer. “But fuck Branagh.”

“But Emma’s in Much Ado,” I pointed out as I plopped down. “And Keanu Reeves. You can’t let Branagh ruin it.” Roy rolled his eyes. “How about this,” I offered. “Emma Thompson double feature. Much Ado About Nothing, followed by Sense and Sensibility. That way you get to see her win an Oscar and meet the love of her life Greg Wise.”

“Hmmf.” Roy narrowed his eyes at me, debating my proposal. Finally, he settled into the couch, wrapping an arm lazily around my waist to pull me back with him. “Alright. I could go for some Jane Austen. On with the fucking Branagh movie then.”

Satisfied, I grabbed the remote to Roy’s massive television and found the movie. As soon as Emma Thompson appeared in the opening scene, I laid down my beer picked up my work laptop from the coffee table and opened it. Roy groaned louder than usual beside me.

“Fuck, are you really doing work right now?”

“Sorry, someone’s got to double check the reservations for the Paris game.” AFC Richmond would be playing in an exhibition against a French club team, and Rebecca had tasked me with making sure the lodging was all arranged. I suspected it was mostly because I had casually mentioned taking one French class in school, but it was nice to have responsibilities besides editing the grammar on Coach Lasso’s tweets and returning Coach Beard’s library books.

There was a small pressure on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roy leaning on me, his eyes skimming the room arrangements spreadsheet on my screen. “Oi, I think there’s been a mistake,” he hummed. “You’re in room 218, and I’m in room 222. Shouldn’t I be in 218 too? Would help save a few pounds.” He raised an eyebrow at me, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

Unable to resist, I planted a kiss on his scruff. “Or, I could let the club pay for the rooms, and if you want to see me, you can put in the effort of sneaking down the hall like a gentleman.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Unless you want to announce to the whole club that we’re dating, and Ted can spend the whole trip calling us his OTP and making comments about being in the City of Love.”

Roy was clearly weighing his options as he stared at me. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, he put his beer on an end table leaned back onto the cushions. “Fine. Just make sure you slip me a key to your room. I’m not going to be standing in a hotel hallway knocking like some fuckin’ creep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” I made myself a note to ask for two keys for every room; less suspicious than just asking for myself. “Any other requests?” I asked dryly.

“Hmm.” Roy feigned thinking. “Throwing Jamie Tartt off the top of the Eiffel Tower might be a fun team-building activity. Montlaur too while we’re at it.”

“Thought you were over that,” I hummed, checking my confirmation email from the hotel and using Google Translate to make sure I didn’t misunderstand anything.

Roy shrugged, his hand lightly grazing my hip. “Still don’t like the way that prick looks at you.”

I snorted as I sent Rebecca the confirmation email and room assignments for her approval. “And what way would that be?”

“The way I look at you.”

Email sent, I closed my laptop and returned it to the coffee table. “Roy,” I said slowly, straddling his lap and taking his face in my hands. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do.” I kissed his neck tenderly. “Besides, why would you want to waste your time in Paris on Jamie and Montlaur? Wouldn’t you rather be with me?”

“So, you’re saying we can skip going to fucking Paris and just spend the weekend here?” His nose nudged my cheek. “I’ll even let you put on more Kenneth Branagh movies.”

“Oh, hell no,” I scoffed, sliding off his lap and leaning back to watch the movie that had gone ignored during our conversation. “You are not talking me out of a free trip to Paris.”

“Alright, so I’ve got some Albert Camus for Beard, sudoku for Ted, and a sleep mask for Roy.” The coaches held their hands out for their requested road trip items. I held tight to the hardcover copy of The Stranger that Beard reached for. “No writing in the margins,” I ordered. “Library says you can’t do that anymore.”

He rolled his eyes and took the book. “Fine.”

Ted smiled as I handed him the book of sudoku puzzles I’d picked up on my way to work. “Thank you so much,” he gushed. “This is real sweet of you to get these little presents for us. We might have to start callin’ you Willy Wonka.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, no problem, Coach. We’ve got a long trip ahead, might as well enjoy it.” I just don’t want to play “I spy” all the way to Paris. I turned to Roy. “And sleep mask, as requested.”

His eyes narrowed as he took the sleep mask out of my hands. “It’s pink,” he grumbled.

“Goes well with your eyes,” I answered cooly.

Roy glanced around, making sure the other coaches were out of earshot. “Is this from your fucking nightstand?” he hissed, biting back a laugh.

I shrugged, now completely grinning. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d recognize it.” I playfully batted my eyelashes at Roy. “You’re gonna wear it on the bus, right?”

The man was seriously fighting a smile. “Maybe,” he growled quietly.

Before I could make another flirty comment, Ted came back, rubbing his hands together happily. “Alright ya’ll, should we get these puppies onboard this puppy?”

Roy sighed and turned around, glaring at the players who were milling around the parking lot while Will finished loading their luxury-brand luggage onto the team bus. “Whistle!” he shouted, getting their attention. “Oi! Get your asses onboard now, or else you can fucking walk to France!”

When the Paris exhibition game was first announced, Rebecca had planned on everyone just flying; it was the team, particularly Sam and Jamie, who insisted that a six-hour drive would be fun. Part of me was not looking forward to six hours on the road, but knowing I’d spend those six hours next to Roy made it bearable.

I nudged Roy as we watched the team load onto the bus. “Sit with me?” I whispered.

“Like you even have to fucking ask,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing for me to climb aboard.

An hour later, we were on the road, and the boys had finally gotten sick of singing “Richmond Til We Die”, much to Roy’s relief. Now they were all having their own conversations, or listening to music, or watching movies on their phones. The quiet time meant that the coaches and I could finally chat at the table at the back of the bus. As usual, Roy sat next to me and spread himself out a little bit, his thigh pressed against mine and our arms brushing; he often did this “manspreading” at meetings as a way to have physical contact without drawing suspicion.

“Alright, so lay that schedule on us,” Ted was saying as he tossed a handful of the trail mix I’d packed for him into his mouth. “What’s on the itinerary, Ben and Jerry?”

Unable to resist cracking a grin at his little rhyme, I opened the document on my tablet. “So, once we arrive, we’ll have a team meeting to go over strategy with the boys, followed by team dinner at a local restaurant, Rebecca and Higgins’ll join us for that, and then movie night.” A shiver went down my spine as I fent Roy’s knuckle graze my arm. “It’s all arranged with the hotel. Then tomorrow, team breakfast at the hotel and head to the stadium for the game. And after the game everyone’s on their own until we meet at ten the next morning to come back to Richmond.”

Ted smiled. “And the movie is set to go?” Despite the publicity surrounding the exhibition game, the man absolutely knew what his priorities were.

We quickly finished confirming the team’s plans for the trip, with Ted making a few jokes about eating fries and frog legs and toast. The entire time, Roy strategically pressed himself close to me, making me want to finish our meeting so he and I could retreat to our usual seats together, where we could stealthily hold hands between our seats. Instead of dismissing us, though, Ted announced that he had one more topic to chat about; Roy groaned loudly, but a sharp look from me shut him up.

Beard cleared his throat. “So, we’re currently looking very seriously at this Spanish player, Dario Vargas. Skilled striker. Would be a great asset to us.”

“And he’s actually going to be in Paris at the same time as us,” Ted explained. He turned to me. “D’you think you could find a good place for me and Rebecca to have dinner with him tomorrow after the game? We’re hopin’ to wine and dine ’im and reel in the big fish before we head home.”

“Sure, Ted,” I assured him, starting a search on my tablet. “Dario Vargas….” I cocked my head at the men. “Why do I know that name?”

Coach Beard sat up a little. “Well, he’s been a pretty big name on a couple of Italian and French teams in the last few years. So maybe you’ve seen his name on a sports network or something?”

No, that wasn’t it. This guy’s name was so familiar, but I didn’t associate it with football. For some reason, his name made knots begin to appear in my stomach, and I didn’t like it.

“Hmm, maybe,” I agreed, wanting to end the meeting already. “Anything else?” Roy growled beside me.

Ted shook his head, all smiles. “Nope. We’re all set, Mookie Betts.” He nodded to Roy. “You can go take a nap now.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbled, jumping up. Internally, I rolled my eyes at his dramatics.

About fifteen minutes later, I had Ted’s reservation settled and could put my work away. With a sigh, I collapsed in my seat next to Roy, who was indeed wearing my sleep mask. I pulled out my phone, quickly typing a text complaining to Keeley about her decision to stay home from the trip.

A hand brushed against my thigh. When I glanced up, Roy had lifted my sleep mask slightly and was staring at me from under it. “Oi, what fucking movie are you making us watch tonight?”

“Bridget Jones’s Diary,” I answered as my mobile vibrated, letting me know Keeley had sent me a reply. “It’s one of my favorites.”

The sleep mask was now entirely lifted and resting on top of Roy’s head. “Because you fancy that wanker Hugh Grant?”

A snort flew out of my mouth. “Colin Firth, actually.” I glanced at the words on my screen; Keeley was suggesting that I ask Roy about his baguette. In return, I sent her several middle finger emojis.

“You like that whole Mr. Darcy shit?”

I rolled my eyes; Roy was talking as if he hadn’t just been completely invested as he watched the five-hour miniseries of Pride and Prejudice with me a couple days ago. “Yes, I like that whole Mr. Darcy shit. Have you seen Pemberly?”

“No wonder you like my house,” he muttered, grinning. His eyes flickered to my phone. “Why’s Keeley sending you so many eggplant emojis?”

“No, I like you very much. Just as you are,” Colin Firth said to Renee Zellweger onscreen.

In the back row of the hotel conference room turned private theater, I let out a breathy sigh. Roy eyed me carefully, the lights from the screen playing on his face.

“You like this?” he whispered, barely audible.

I nodded. “I like anything Colin Firth says,” I answered.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “And the grand gesture shit?”

“Obsessed,” I replied, grinning.

“Good to know,” he muttered, slumping in his seat a bit, his knee knocking into mine. He leaned over once more. “What’re you doing after this?”

I craned my neck to make sure everyone was preoccupied by whatever antics Bridget Jones was getting herself into. “Going to bed, probably. Yourself?”

A smirk graced the face I always found myself thinking about. “Probably going to your bed.”

Sure enough, I woke up the next morning curled up in Roy’s arms. It had quickly become my favorite way to start my day: turning around and seeing that bearded face still half asleep, tracing shapes on his arm as he squeezed me a bit tighter to himself, and murmuring sweet nothings back and forth before starting our day.

The light coming through the space in the curtains told me that we didn’t have much time before Roy had to sneak back to his own room before the team started milling around the halls and heading to breakfast. And my mobile ringing on the nightstand told me that I wouldn’t even get to enjoy the time we did have.

“Hello?” I grumbled into the phone, giving a small stretch as Roy stirred beside me.

“Good morning, darling!”

The sound of my mother’s voice had me scrambling to sit up and cover myself with the blankets, as if she could see the way I had turned Roy’s black shirt into pyjamas. “Morning Mum,” I blurted out. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry it’s so early, I just wanted to catch you before you get busy. How’s Paris?” Her voice was nonchalant, oblivious to the scene on my end of the call.

I cleared my throat as Roy began to wake up, squinting up at me with a scowl on his face. “It’s great, Mum,” I answered, raising my eyebrows at Roy, who nodded in understanding. “Text me what you want me to bring you as a little souvenir, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” In the background, I could hear dishes clanging; she was probably getting breakfast ready.

“So, everything’s good? The team’s treating you well?”

My hand rested on Roy’s arm as I completely sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah, they’re great. They’re basically big kids, really.”

“And the gaffers?”

Roy turned over to wrap his arm around my waist, gazing up at me with a sleepy grin. “Very nice,” I assured her.

“And how’s Roy?”

I nearly choked. “Roy?” I repeated, shoving his arm off me.

She chuckled into the phone. “Yes, Roy. You know, tall, brooding, handsome, football star. Photos of him all over your walls since his Chelsea days. Disappeared upstairs with you at Dad’s birthday dinner. That Roy.”

Roy tapped my shoulder, tiredness all over his face. “Can you ask your mum when I can come over for dinner again? That was some of the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line while I swallowed hard. There was no way my mother didn’t hear Roy. And she was definitely capable of recognizing that it was way too early for me to have company. Finally, whisper came from her end: “Is that Roy?”

The options weighed in my head. Flat-out lying and telling my mum that she was crazy, that she’d just heard the television, no way was Roy Kent in my hotel room, was probably not an option. She’d had dinner with the guy; she knew his voice. There was always telling her that the team was getting together for an early-morning breakfast, but the room was too silent to believe twenty-something football players were horsing around a hotel dining room.

That only left me with one choice: the truth.

“Yeah, Mum, that’s Roy,” I admitted, biting my lip.

To my surprise, she laughed. “Well, I’ll be! I was wondering what happened after Dad’s dinner. You hadn’t mentioned any other fellas in a while.” She paused thoughtfully. “Does he treat you well?”

Her voice was softer than I’d ever heard. “I’m so glad, darling. When you’re back from Paris, we’ll have the two of you over for dinner. No birthdays this time.”

My gaze fell to Roy, who was watching me curiously, eyebrows raised. His eyes were full of the adoration I had quickly gotten used to as his fingers traced circles on my hip. “Really well,” I promised my mum, smiling down at Roy. “The best, actually.”

Relief and joy filled my chest. “That would be great, Mum. Roy’d love that. He still asks about that pasta you made for Dad’s birthday.” Roy smiled at the mention of the food he’d been bothering me about since the dinner in question. “Listen, I gotta go, we’ve got some team things to do before the game. But I’ll send you and Dad pictures, and I’ll call you when I’m back in town, alright?”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. When I placed my phone back on the nightstand, Roy was sitting up, watching me carefully.

“You told your mum about us,” he observed quietly. The look in his eyes was unreadable.

I pulled my knees to my chest, nodding. “Hope that’s okay,” I murmured. “I… I hadn’t planned on telling my folks yet. But I know they won’t tell anyone til we tell them we’re ready.”

To my surprise, Roy leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Of course it’s okay. Just promise me one thing.”

I leaned my head against his, nodding earnestly. “Anything.”

“Get me that damn pasta recipe.”

The game went magnificently. The French club had a stellar reputation, but the Greyhounds were up to the challenge. Two remarkable assists from Jamie, incredible goals each from Sam and Colin, and an unbelievable penalty kick from Dani led to a Richmond victory.

Back at the hotel lobby, the boys made plans to go out on the town to celebrate, with Richard taking the reigns thanks to his own experiences in the city. Ted and Rebecca bowed out to go to the dinner reservations I’d made for them and the player they were trying to court, and Beard had already left to meet his girlfriend who had made the last-minute decision to fly in that afternoon to spend the evening together.

That just left me and Roy.

“You didn’t want to go out with them, did you?” he asked quietly as we watched the guys debate where to start their night.

I shrugged. “They invited me,” I admitted. “But someone had given me instructions to pack that red dress I’d worn to the charity ball, so I was hoping I had plans tonight already.”

Sneaking another glance at the team, who slowly made their way back up to their rooms to change into their clubbing outfits, Roy slipped me a piece of paper, scrawled on in his sloppy handwriting. “Go outside at eight. There’ll be a car waiting for you. Give the driver this address.” He paused, his eyes flickering to my mouth for a brief moment. “Wear the red dress,” he added.

“Aye, aye Coach,” I agreed, shooting him a puzzled grin. With a short growl, Roy turned and walked out of the lobby, leaving me with the paper in my hands and several questions in my head.

At eight on the dot, I made my way down from my room to the lobby. With the red dress and heels on, as well as the inordinate amount of time I’d spent on my hair and makeup, and a night in Paris ahead of me, I felt a bit like a movie star. A few of the guys were lingering in the lobby, waiting for the group to assemble. They waved when they saw me and called out compliments; I even heard a joking wolf-whistle from Colin.

“Thanks guys!” I called out as I approached them. “You guys going to get into some trouble?”

“You comin’ out with us?” Isaac asked, gesturing to the group. “Richard’s got a great night planned for us. We’ll all take turns dancing with you and you won’t have to buy a single drink, it’s all on us.”

Dani winked. “Unless you ditch us for a French guy and we don’t see you until mañana.”

“I don’t think Roy would like that very much,” Richard chirped, cackling to himself.

The guys all turned and glared at him, hissing at him to shut up and reminding him that we all agreed not to tease her and giving him a warning that Roy’s going to kill you.

I cleared my throat, hoping they’d assume the blush on my cheeks was just makeup. “Um, I’m sorry, what’s happening?”

The guys all looked at each other helplessly before Colin finally spoke up. “We just all noticed there’s a bit of… tension between you and Roy? The good kind,” he added quickly. “We all totally ship it.” There was a murmur of agreement among the team.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Come on guys, leave ’er alone. They’re friends. Roy’d murder all of ya if he heard the way you’re talking.” He smiled at me. “You, go. Have a good night, whatever you end up doin’.” The wink Jamie shot me had me wondering if he knew what awaited me once I walked out of the hotel.

After wishing each other good evenings, I left the team and headed outside. Indeed, there was a black car waiting for me with a driver, uniform and hat and all. He nodded at me as I approached.

“Mr. Kent’s friend?” he asked, smiling.

“Um, yes,” I confirmed, pulling the piece of paper out of my clutch. “He said to give you this.”

The driver took the paper and opened the door for me. “If you’re ready.”

I gazed out the window as we drove, glancing down at my mobile every few minutes. I had sent Roy a text when I got in the car to let him know I was on my way, and all I got was a thumbs-up emoji. While part of me was enjoying the mystery of it all, I couldn't help but feel nervous. Where was he taking me? Some small café on the outskirts of the city where no one would notice us? Another hotel, where we could actually share a room? Wherever it was, it would probably be somewhere dark and quiet where we could hide in a corner.

Instead, we slowly pulled into a parking structure. Fuck, maybe Will was right when he told me he thinks Roy might be a serial killer.

The driver parked and turned to me. “We’re here,” he announced, although I couldn’t figure out where “here” was.

“Er, thanks,” I mumbled as I opened the car door. “Will you wait here or…?”

“’m not going to kill you,” a familiar growl called out.

There was Roy, hands in his pockets, standing under the light of the parking structure. He wore the same black suit he’d worn at the gala; if he was a serial killer, he was the most attractive one in history. He smiled and waved me over.

Click, click, click went my heels on the sidewalk as I approached him. He reached out and took my hand before planting a firm kiss on my lips.

“Roy, where are we-”

“Just watch,” he chuckled as he led the way. The street was shockingly empty, considering this was Paris of all places.

Before I could ask Roy any more questions, we turned a corner and my heart jumped into my throat. “Roy, is that-”

“Yeah, that’s the fucking Louvre.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “What’re we doing at the Louvre?” I asked incredulously.

Roy rolled his eyes and tugged me onwards towards the lit-up pyramid. “Stealing the Mona Lisa.”

“Roy.”

A smile graced his face. “Having dinner. Happy?”

I shook my head, my mind spinning. “How… I mean what… Holy shit…”

“Sometimes being a retired footballer comes in handy,” he joked. “I called a guy, wrote a check, and they closed the most famous museum in the world for us.” He shrugged. “No big deal.” The sparkle in his eye told me that no, he wanted me to think that this was a big deal.

Which it absolutely fucking was.

We made our way into the museum, with the security guard tipping his hat to us and greeting “Mr. Kent”. Our steps echoed on the marble floor as we walked from room to room, Roy never letting to of my hand. He pointed out a few paintings as we walked, softly sharing the names of artists he particularly liked.

Roy Kent likes art, I thought to myself. Every new thing I learned about the man made my heart fall a little bit further in… No, don’t say that yet, I scolded myself, trying to focus on the name Roy was whispering to me now.

We finally arrived in the room that held the most recognizable painting in history: the Mona Lisa. But my eyes were drawn away from her and to the table that had been set up and the waiter who stood beside it. I looked at Roy.

“We’re having dinner with the Mona Lisa?” I hissed.

He shrugged and led me to the table, pulling my chair out for me. “Hope that’s okay.”

It was more than okay. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever heard of, probably the most grand gesture I’d ever seen.

“When’d you set this up?” I asked as the waiter poured two glasses of champagne.

Roy cleared his throat and bobbed his head a bit, a nervous habit I now knew well. “Late last night,” he mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a smirk on my lips. “Before or after Bridget Jones?”

“After,” he growled, pink tinting his cheeks. “Satisfied?”

My smile grew. “So, after we watched Bridget Jones and you asked me what I thought of grand gestures, you went and planned the grandest gesture of all time?”

A laugh escaped his lips. “I take it this is more impressive than Pemberly?”

“Much more impressive,” I confirmed, taking a sip of champagne. “Thank you, Roy.”

He leaned forward and laid a hand on top of mine. “Well, I figured we should celebrate.”

Now it was my turn to blush. “What’re we celebrating? Not today’s win, I assume.”

“Fuck no.” He took a deep breath and gave my hand a squeeze. “I just figured that the longest relationship I’ve ever been in is worth celebrating.”

Numbers flew in my head as I quickly did the math. “But Roy, we’ve only been-”

He shook his head. “It has been four months and six days since your dad’s birthday. I know it’s not the official day we got together or anything, but I figured it's…” He shrugged, trailing off. His eyes were begging me not to laugh at him or tell him he was wrong.

As if I could.

“Something worth celebrating,” I repeated, lifting my champagne.

Roy smiled and lifted his own glass, tapping it to mine with a clink. “To really fucking liking each other.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “To really fucking liking each other.”

#Roy Kent Superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #Roy Kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #ted lasso #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 4 months

Text

Caution to the Wind

Wrecker x Fem!Reader

Summary: For her birthday, Omega asks you and Wrecker to ride the roller coaster with her at the fair.

Pairing: Wrecker x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wrecker, Omega, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Tech

Tags & Warnings: modern!AU, family fluff, roller coaster, anxiety, fear of heights, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Two fics in one weekend 😱 I think I broke a record 😂 Even though it's shorter than most of my one-shots, rest assured, this idea was predetermined at the beginning and didn't come from my panic that I only have a week left to finish my bingo card 😅 I love the Bad Batch and their characters, but inspiration is a very fickle thing. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Wrecker

It's a beautiful summer day, and as you walk through the crowds of people your senses are filled with the smells of funnel cakes and fried oreos, and the sounds of kids screaming on the fast, colorful, rides at the midway. Today is Omega's birthday, and to celebrate she wanted to spend the day at the local fair with her brothers. Their girlfriends were also allowed to come, making for a fun family day for everyone. It's been forever since you've gone to a fair, so you're also excited.

Omega sits atop Hunter's shoulders and points out everything she wants to do, eat, and ride. Tech keeps a running list of what she says so they don't forget something, including the firework show at the end. Echo is in charge of the map to make sure they take the most efficient path. Crosshair isn't much of a fairgoer, but he would never pass up an opportunity to wipe the floor with the dads at the fair games and win Omega the biggest stuffed animal available.

Then there's you and Wrecker. He's just as excited as Omega to enjoy the fair, but what he's most excited about is the food. Fair food is the best. There's nothing quite like deep fried candy bars and cheap corndogs smothered in ketchup and mustard. You're not sure where he keeps packing it away, but you had to stop after the fried pickles and take a break. You sit down on a bench to rest for a minute, when Wrecker walks over carrying a massive red and blue slushy.

Your eyes widen. "Please tell me that's not for me."

Wrecker laughs. "It's for both of us."

"Oh, thank God," you breathe in relief. You rub your stomach when you feel it gurgle.

"Not feelin' well?" Wrecker asks as he sits down and rubs your back.

"Just ate too much," you answer. "I'll be fine in a bit."

"Guess I'll have to drink this myself then," Wrecker says.

"Knock yourself out," you chuckle.

You continue to relax on the bench under the shade of a tree while you wait for your stomach to settle. It's the middle of the day, and the sun is beating down hard and hot. Everyone is taking a break now around the same bench, making sure to hydrate so the fun can continue without issue. You also end up taking a few sips of that slushy. Omega becomes restless as she plucks pieces of grass impatiently while sitting on the ground waiting to have fun again.

"Can we go now?" Omega asks while tugging on Hunter's pant leg.

"Ten more minutes," Hunter says as he leans against the tree and looks down at Omega.

Omega flops onto her back and groans. "The fair will be closed in ten minutes."

"Actually, the fair will close in approximately eight hours," Tech adds.

"See?" Echo says as he pats Omega's leg. "Plenty of time to enjoy the rest of the fair."

Omega sits up and rolls her eyes.

"So," you begin, while trying to change the subject, "what's next on the list?"

"Hmm," Omega thinks. "The rides! Definitely the rides."

"Are you sure you don't want to save those until it gets dark?" Echo asks. "The lights on the rides are pretty at night."

Omega pouts.

"Let the kid go on the rides," Crosshair argues. "We've got the wristbands, so we can always come back after it gets dark."

Omega's face lights up and she tugs harder on Hunter's pant leg. "Hunter, please? Can we go now? I want to go on the rides."

Hunter sighs.

"Aw, c'mon, Hunter," Wrecker says. "It's the kid's birthday."

Hunter glances at Echo and Echo shrugs. "Fine. Let's go."

"Yes!" Omega exclaims as she jumps up from the ground.

You smile at her excitement, and stretch your arms above your head as you get up from the bench. You definitely feel more rested, and your stomach has settled since you sat down and stopped eating food. You're not sure about going on any of the rides though. You love the fair as long as you stay on the ground. You mostly enjoy the little shops, stands, music, food, and the animals, but not the rides. They make your stomach queasy, but mostly, you're afraid of heights.

However, for Omega's birthday, you will play along for as much as you can, even if you stay behind to hold everyone's belongings while they go on the rides. Someone has to do it, so it might as well be you. The first ride Omega chooses is an easy one, the carousel. Now that's a ride you can handle, and everyone can still carry their belongings onto the ride. It's not too fast and not too high, just perfect for someone like you, and possibly the only ride you'll go on.

After the carousel, the group hops from one ride to the next. Your plan of staying back and holding everyone's belongings is working out very well, and so far, no one has questioned it. Wrecker knows your apprehension towards rides and fear of heights, so he doesn't have to ask. Even through his own fear of heights, he still goes on the rides with Omega and everyone else. You admire him for working through his fear, for his little sister's sake, and wish you could too.

After a couple more hours of rides, the sun starts sinking lower in the sky and the heat of the day passes, with a slight breeze blowing in from the east. You thought that Omega would be tired by now from all of the walking and rides, but no, she is still moving like she was this morning. You don't know where she gets all of the energy from, but you now understand why Hunter is so tired all of the time. Keeping up with that ball of energy must be exhausting for him.

Just as you think you'll be leaving the midway to get more snacks and drinks before the firework show, Omega pulls everyone to one last ride. The roller coaster. You look up at the colossal giant of twisting metal and lose your breath as a cart of screaming people flies by across from you. That's one big nope from you. You are happy to just stay on the ground and let everyone else fly down that hill to their deaths. You take a seat on the bench by the line and try to relax.

"C'mon," Omega says as she pulls on your hand. "We're going on the roller coaster!"

You instinctively shrink down further onto the bench. "Oh, no, Omega. I can't."

"Please?" she pleads. "I want us all to go."

"Really, I–"

"It's for the kids' birthday," Crosshair interrupts. "If I have to put up with it, so do you."

"I don't like roller coasters," you explain. "They're way too high and scary."

"The probability of getting hurt on a roller coaster is one in one hundred and seventy million," Tech adds. "You will be fine by my calculation."

Echo elbows Tech and gives him a look. "Really?"

Tech pushes his glasses up. "My calculations are never wrong."

"Guys, please," you say. "I'm really afraid of heights. I can't do it."

"Wrecker is afraid of heights," Hunter notes, "and he's gone on everything."

"Well, maybe my fear of heights and his fear of heights are different," you argue.

"Mesh'la," Wrecker says as he sits on the bench next to you. "If you sit next to me, you know I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"But–"

"Just this once," Wrecker insists. "For Omega."

You sigh and look into Wrecker's soulful eyes. "Promise nothing will happen?"

"Promise," Wrecker says with a comforting smile.

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "Okay, let's go before I change my mind."

"Yes!" Omega exclaims. "Roller coaster here we come!"

The wait in line for the roller coaster is rather short, so you don't get a lot of time to overthink your absolutely horrible decision. You're not sure how you let them talk you into it, but here you are, stepping into the car of a roller coaster and regretting every second of it. You chose a car in the middle of the roller coaster, because both being in the front or the back is terrifying, then Wrecker squeezes in after you. He pulls the safety bar down and drapes his arm over your shoulder.

"Wreck," you say with a shaky voice. "I don't think I can do this."

"Just hold onto me," Wrecker says. "I gotcha."

You clamp your hands onto Wrecker's arm as best you can and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to get off, but the ride hasn't even started yet. You can hear Omega in one of the cars in front of you giggling in anticipation, while you, on the other hand, are hyperventilating and hanging on for dear life. Every terrifying possibility and horrific outcome races through your mind all at once and you wonder if you should have written a will before you let yourself get on the ride.

It's too late now. You feel the car jerk beneath you and the chain clanking as it pulls the line of cars down the track and towards the first hill. Every muscle in your body is tense and you don't dare to open your eyes, but you still feel it. You feel it moving beneath you along the track and your anxiety grows when your body leans back against the hard seat as the coaster is pulled up the first hill. Every alarm bell in your head is going off, warning you that you won't survive the drop.

Then it stops, and for a moment you let yourself relax, thinking you must be at the top of the hill. Of course, where else could you be? The anticipation of what's to come overwhelms your already tense body and you steal a peek, but instantly regret it. You're up, high up, very high up, and the only way down is to let the coaster take you there, but you don't want it to move. You feel sick and you hold onto Wrecker's arm even tighter, wondering if he feels the same way.

Before you can get the answer, you're careening down the hill at top speed. The rushing wind blows your hair wildly as your stomach enters your throat as the feeling of weightlessness takes over. But before you can pass out, your weight returns, pushing your butt back down into the seat. Now that your breath is back, you can finally scream. You scream for dear life, and you're pretty sure Wrecker is having as much of a horrible time as you are, but he stays strong for you.

Thankfully, the ride comes to a stop back at the station. The safety bars release, but you've got one solid grip on the bar and another on Wrecker's arms, refusing to let go, even though the ride is over. Your body has clamped down and you're stuck. You won't even open your eyes. Even if you try to move, you know your legs will be wobbly and you'll probably fall over, or at the least look ridiculous trying to exit the ride. Then you feel two strong arms lifting you out of the seat.

"I've got you," Wrecker soothes. "You're okay."

"Am I alive?" you ask with a shaky voice, eyes still squeezed shut.

"I think so," Wrecker says, then pinches your arm.

"Ow!" you yell and open your eyes.

"Yup," Wrecker says. "Alive and well."

You can't help but laugh. "Thanks."

Wrecker smiles and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, which you lean into to help soothe your shot nerves.

"C'mon, guys!" Omega calls. "We're gonna miss the firework show!"

"Can you handle that?" Wrecker asks.

You sigh as your body begins to relax. "As long as I get to stay on the ground I can."

"Can do," Wrecker smiles, then drops your legs so you can stand.

"Actually, can you carry me?" you ask with big doe eyes. "I'm so tired and my legs feel like jelly."

"Always," Wrecker says, then picks you back up and follows after the rest of the group.

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thatdammchickennugget · 4 months

Note

Hi! i don’t know if someone already said this but… fred + date 👀

I'm sorry, this ended up being a bit longer than the other ones but I just love writing about Fred <3 also I'll have to proof read this again later because I typed it on my phone so there's probably mistakes, sorry

Fred Weasley - "date"

Fred would go all out for your first date. He would want it to be exciting and unforgettable. He knows he can't offer you much money-wise, can't take you out to a fancy restaurant or let you go wild at your favourite store and buy everything you want. So he wants to make it memorable in another way.

He forced George and Lee to sit down and brainstorm with him but they didn't end up being much help. Both of them tried to convince him that you wouldn't care because you obviously liked him and didn't care about him being poor. You would not have agreed to a date otherwise, right?

Fred was still a nervous wreck over the days leading up to your date but he finally decided what to do. He and George had been walking you to class, the twins reminiscing about some of their favourite pranks of the year, when you mentioned how much you loved their little firework show during the halloween feast.

Something clicked in his head in that moment. Remembering that you had mentioned loving fireworks before and knowing that fireworks were something he was quite good at, a plan was forming in his mind.

On the saturday of your date, he picked you up at your common room, taking you to his favourite secret room in the castle. George and him had found it in their second year thanks to the marauders map and he had been coming there whenever he needed some peace and quiet ever since.

You were already over the moon from the fact he shared his secret place with you but loved it even more when you realized what a great view of the black lake and the forbidden forest the huge windows in the room offered.

The rest of the evening was spent with him showing you how to make and charm the infamous weasley's wildfire whiz-bangs. You were amazed by how great of a teacher he was, explaining the whole process in perfect detail and gently correcting your wand movements by placing his hand over yours and guiding you.

When it started getting dark outside, he disappeared for a moment to grab the snacks he had bribed the house elves into making, knowing that the two of you would miss dinner if the date went well.

As soon as the sun had set, you opened up the big window, sitting down in front of it as he set up the fireworks on the windowsill. The two of you watched in awe as your creations exploded into pictures against the night sky.

You almost choked on the treacle tart you were nibbling on when one of his fireworks exploded to spell out "will you be my girlfriend?"

When you turned to him he was already looking at you, his face flushed up to his ears and a nervous look in his eyes. You only enjoyed his flustered state for a moment before taking him out of his misery and telling him yes, you would love to be his girlfriend.

Relief took over his face, a wide smile spreading across his lips as he leaned in closer to you. He took your face into his hands and pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

The gentle kisses quickly turned into hungrier and more heated ones, and he only let you go when the next round of fireworks shot up into the sky, pulling you into him as you turned back to look outside, resting your head against his shoulder.

#fred weasley #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley x reader #headcanons #harry potter #harry potter headcanon ask game

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little-cereal-draws · 1 year

Text

Details I noticed in The Last Wish pt 5

I know I said I was done but then I watched it again and now I have more

So I mentioned in a previous post how there's always a big build up before they show a character's face for the first time, but I realized the extent of it during this rewatch. In the very beginning, before Puss starts singing, they don't even show the face on the ice sculpture of him. They really want the first time the viewer sees his face to be when he starts singing

They also don't show Puss' face on the painting he vandalized of the Govenor until the spotlight goes on it. I know they did this for the funny dramatic reveal but it's really quite impressive that it wasn't in the shot sooner considering Puss was singing and dancing in front of it for quite some time now

A dog pees on the Govenor's couch

The lady in a wheelchair who's on the left side of the crowd after he defeats the giant is also at the party

Speaking of when Puss defeats the giant, he winks at the crowd as it falls behind him

The song he starts singing when he gets hit with the bell is called "The Legend Will Never Die." This is one of the songs he sings when he's in the cave of lost souls that we catch the very tail end of

When Death shows up at the bar, Puss has his tongue out from drinking his leche. He does a blep a lot longer than I would in the presence of Death but when Death holds the shot glass up, you can see him put it away in the reflection on the glass

The scythe that cuts Puss in the bar fight is the one with his lives marked off

Mama Luna's house is on a peninsula jutting into the sea

During the montage of him at Mama Luna's, when he lays down on the rug for the first time he has his back claws out. They retract slightly when all the other cats come and squish him in but they're still visible

The white and cream cat who becomes acquaintances with Puss (the white and cream cat watches him on the litterbox and they nod at each other later) is the one on the litterbox when Mama Luna tells him that that's his bathroom. So they have canonly both watched each other poop... that's fun...

The statue of the Govenor that Papa Bear knocks over as they leave Del Mar has the Govenor with a foot on a bag of money. No wonder the people didn't like him

Mama Luna has matching blue socks with her cats. They have pink paw prints on the bottom. She also has yellow paw prints on her earrings

Goldi laughs when Papa stuffs Mama Luna into the piano

On the inside of the doors in Jack's treasure room, it says J.H.

When the crime family falls through the ceiling of Jack's factory, the stained glass window of him breaks and falls outside the room. Later when Jack's packing his bag, he steps on the glass that's now inside the room. A little consistency error

Also when Jack and the Serpent Sisters walk into the treasure room, the door stays wide open. No one goes to close it and it doesn't swing shut by itself. In the next shot we get of the door, it's fully closed. It doesn't really matter but it's still interesting that they can include all these little things but didn't have the door swing shut or smth while they're talking. it would have been an easy fix. oh well

When they show Kitty's wanted poster, there's a hiss with the background music. A clever way to add a bit more of her character without doing anything too big

The music they play during the chase after Puss, Perrito, and Kitty steal the map is Puss and Kitty's Flamenco. It's the same song they play when they're fighting for the map later and dance on each other's feet

"I'll get you, my kitties, and your little dog too." A wonderful Wizard of Oz reference by Jack that no one ever talks about

When they're looking at the map in the Dark Forest, Kitty pushes Puss out of the way so she can see what her path is. Except she pushes him by his face. And she pushes him so hard, he completely flips over. That had to have hurt

Goldi has leather stitching on the back of her blue corset-esque piece where it was let out to fit her better. It's probably the same one she was wearing when she broke into the bear's house all those years ago and they've just been adjusting it to fit her as she grows

This isn't so much a detail as it is a question. They posies just hit Team Friendship but they eat Jack's people. Just pull all the flesh off their bones in one go. Why did they respond differently? Maybe it's because they didn't have the map? Maybe it's because they could sense that Team Friendship's wishes were better than Jacks? idk

Before Puss runs off from the fight by the river and has a panic attack, you can see Death reflecting in his eyes

Death smiles as he watches him run into the forest

When Mama Bear suggests that maybe they could be happy without a wish, Goldi gives her a glare. She does not like that idea lol

Goldi also pulls a face when Perrito says she won the orphan lottery and Mama says, "I like his jib as well. Lets keep him."

During the final fight at the star for the map, Puss jumps off Goldi's face to grab it

This isn't so much a detail as it is something funny I like, but I love it when Kitty has the map during the final fight and is jumping confidently through the air... and then gets body slammed by a bear lol Like she's so small and she just got completely launched by a bear coming out of nowhere

Also when Jack is ignoring Nutmegan as she gets sucked into the star and he just ducks as an entire bear goes flying over his head. idk i just think the bears fighting in very unbearlike ways is funny

So Puss must be unbelievably strong because when Baby was being sucked into the star, it took two full grown bears and Goldi to save him but Puss does it by himself. He almost gets sucked in too for much longer than Baby and no one comes to help him; he's just holding onto the Gatito Blade with one hand. And then all by himself, using only rage, he gets his feet back on the ground and rejoins the fight. Like,,,, that must have been so hard

Death growls as he talks when Puss finally stares him down after telling him to pick up the scythe

This is only something I noticed during the last fight but I'm pretty sure it's true during the rest of the movie too. Death doesn't blink. He closes his eyes when making certain facial expressions but he doesn't blink. This is such a subtle but cool way to make him feel more unsettling and supernatural without the audience picking up on it

When Perrito's trying to do the cute eyes at Jack, he puts his head down for a second and you can see his shoulder blades sticking out through his sweater

Kitty always runs like she's in an anime. Like this

When Puss suggests "chomper" as a name for Perrito, Kitty shakes her head too

Someone used the Gatito Blade to pin Team Friendship's wanted poster to the mast of the ship they steal at the end

When Puss points at it, his claws are out too. He was so offended by that being their official team name now, he was moved to minor violence lol

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four

#Puss in boots #puss in boots the last wish #kitty softpaws #perrito #goldilocks #goldilocks and the three bears #goldilocks and the three bears crime family #big jack horner #puss in boots death #Mama luna

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shades-o-grey · 1 month

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GOOD OMENS FICLET- The Origin of the Apology Dance

My headcanon for how the apology dance originated

It didn't start out as an apology, the content of the dance and the song don't come across that way, so my idea is that it started out as something else and was later used as a way to apologize (or rather get the other to accept an apology).

And so my idea is...

It started out as a silly bet,

Honestly, Aziraphale should've known better than to enter a wager with a demon. But the temptation of proving Crowley wrong was just too well... tempting

Not that an Angel can actually be tempted, it was purely for a moral and angelic reason, a feather on his wing, chalk one up for the side of angels, thwarting the wiles of the wicked sort of thing. I mean it was practically his job!

(Pay no attention to the fact that it is indeed his job, one that he tends forget or just not do)

The only trouble was... what did Aziraphale want Crowley to do once he'd won?

"And what should the winner demand of the loser then?"

Crowley asked staring into his 8th cup that he held loosely in his grasp.

"Buying lunch?"

Aziraphale suggested the first thing to pop in his head.

"No no we always do that, besides, I believe I s'still owe you from, from... I don't know such n' such and you had the thing"

He dismissed the absent recollection of when they'd last dined together with a wild gesture of his hand.

"Mmm"

Aziraphale nodded his head in drunken agreement, also remembering that they had indeed lunched together at some place, at some point, and that he did have - the thing.

They both sat silently for a moment pondering. Trying to think what exactly the penalty of their bet should be.

Suddenly Aziraphale shot up with excitement

"I've got it! The loser must demonstrate a grand gesture of defeat!"

He said with the triumph of someone who had just come up with a brilliant idea. Even though his suggestion was missing and important part.

The part where it provides an actual suggestion.

"n-Yeah - Obviously, that's the point of a bet -Angel. Win so you can recieve something from the defeated. Money, property, y'knoe those sorts of things, humans do it all the time"

"No no, you missed the point. A Grand Gesture, you know a gesture that-thats -gratuitous"

Said drunk Aziraphale who had confused the words Gratuitous and Grandiose

"Wot? You mean like the whole "prostrate yourself, kneel at the feet and beg for for absolution" sort of thing?"

Crowley continued, missing what Aziraphale had tried to say while somehow still wandering in the general direction of what Aziraphale had been attempting to suggest.

Aziraphale wrinkled his pert nose in distaste at the idea of what Crowley thought he might be suggesting.

"No, I don't think either of us would enjoy seeing that very much"

"No, WE- would not." -

Crowley paused, recalling someone who would enjoy such a display. He refocused back on Aziraphale.

-"Then what is it you are trying to suggest? Stand on my head and talk in a silly voice? Run around with you on my back like a mule?"

That made Aziraphale giggle

"hehe AHEM m-no. Not quite that either, but I think we're on the right track"

Crowley's suggestion (which was clearly meant to be a joke) gave Aziraphale an idea.

"Oh! I know! how about... a silly dance?"

"A wot?"

Crowley responded, confused as to how dancing had come into the conversation.

"A dance! You do know what dancing is don't you?"

"Nghk*-n-yeah...but, I thought angels don't dance?"

"Oh! It wouldn't even count as dancing, really it's just a *he waves his hand in the air* silly little... dance of sorts."

"Right, and what would this *he imitates Aziraphale's hand movement* silly little dance look like exactly?"

Azirpahale frowned in concentration,

When he'd made the suggestion, he hadn't thought he'd have to know what the "dance" looked like.

"Well...maybe something... something..."

He paced, gestured, and mapped out movements in his mind.

"-something like this!"

*Aziraphale began to sing a song with some footwork in small dance steps*

"🎶You we're right, you were right-🎶"

Crowley interrupts

"you didn't say anything about singing being a part of it?"

"-its part of it!"

Azirphale quipped back, annoyed at having his concentration interrupted

"Now let me start over"

*He starts the dance over again*

🎶"You were right, you were right"

"I was wrong"

"You were right!"🎶

Aziraphale finishes the song and dance for Crowley

"See? I think this will work splendidly, don't you?"

He gives a proud little wiggle.

Meanwhile, Crowley gets an idea...

"Could you do it again? I don't think I get it"

He asks, clearly up to something.

"Look, you'd have to go like this-"

Aziraphale demonstrates the dance a second time.

-"Now, I hope you were watching closely because I expect a perfect rendition from you once I win this wager, no half-ing it!"

He wiggled his finger at the demon, feeling quite plum and pleased at his cleverness. Seeing Crowley do the dance promised to be quite satisfying.

"Maybe give it another go. I really~ wanna make sure I know what I'm getting."

Crowley was laying it on thick, exaggerating his eagerness to "learn" this new dance while a smirk was desperate to escape his face.

Aziraphale goodnaturedly starts to demonstrate for a 3rd time.

"It really quite simple its-

He stops abruptly

Crowley is shaking with the force required to contain his mirth.

Aziraphale has a realization of what Crowley has been doing-

"CROWLEY!"

Azriaphale exclaimed, abashed- A dash of reproach added in his voice for good measure towards the wily demon.

*Crowley burst into a loud cackle*

"AAh hAhA *snort* haha ha!"

"You were having me on weren't you!"

"hehe -You *snort* caught on a lot faster than *hehe* then I expected"

"Really now? You were just going to make me repeat the dance over and over!? It's supposed to be for the wager!"

"Oh come on Angel-"

"Well you're not getting me to do it again."

Crowley smirked, remembering something Aziraphale seemed to have forgotten.

"Well, once I win, you'll have to do another show of it"

Aziraphale began to pale, turning a similar shade of white to his hair.

Crowley leaned over so his citrine serpentine eyes peered over his dark lenses. His eyes crinkled in amusement at the flummoxed angel before him.

"I'm looking forward to the encore Angel~"

(It would come to pass that Aziraphale would demonstrate the dance many more times throughout their history, much to his chagrin and to Crowley's great pleasure)

FULL FIC ON AO3 HERE!!!

"The Little Dance"- (Origin of The Apology Dance)

VillianousAce (TheSleepParalysisDemon)

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hawkland · 7 months

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Art Masterpost: Solitudes

Story by: ilovehowyouletmefall (@angelinthefire) Art by: sidewidner (@hawkland)

It's October and that means it's @deancasbigbang season once again! This year makes for my third time around for the event, although this year I only managed to participate as an artist (I'm still in a bit of writer's burnout since the summer). But, that meant I could put all of my focus and time into doing these four pieces for @angelinthefire's wonderful story "Solitudes." I'm gonna talk a little bit about my ideas and process and share some progress pictures behind the cut in a way that might be kind of spoilery, so if you want, just go read the story now! And then you come back here later to find out more if you wish. All works were completed in watercolor with some digital effects and filtering after completion.

I was really drawn to the imagery of the architectural elements of where the story takes place (an abandoned brutalist mansion) vs. nature and decay...plus the way light and shadow seemed to play such important roles in the visual descriptions. Dean and Cas spend so much of the story separated by supernatural forces even when they are in the same room I wanted to focus on that as well: being so near yet so far apart, not quite connecting or even able to look at each other without barriers.

I started on the banner art right away, thinking of Dean in despair (for reasons in the story) and Cas yearning/wishing he could reach him. Behind them both is the concrete wall covered in mold and moss (which was a LOT of fun to paint). The actual final watercolor painting came out as so:

(This is one of my favorite Deans that I've painted. His face can be SO hard to get right!)

Working with angelinthefire's suggestions I ran some different digital filters on the photo to desaturate/emphasize the light and dark for the final banner, and then with that in mind tried to keep the other pieces in a similar color scheme and tonal range.

The atrium painting was the biggest challenge. I knew I wanted to do a piece to capture the feeling of the house, the light coming in from an open skylight falling on brambles growing out of an old fountain spot. I was thinking of the Roman villa ruins I've visited combined with some actual Brutalist/modern homes I looked up. My original drawing plan was a bit more complicated and simplifying/taking out some elements definitely makes it more creepy/mysterious looking and less like a funky modern home.

You can see the vanishing/perspective point is right where Dean is looking at Cas.

The light falling down from above was partially painted with some interference/shimmer watercolors, but I amplified it (along with the shadows) with some digital effects at the end. This was before doing any digital magic:

Dean reaching for Cas: I made myself so sad working on that piece! It was also quite the challenge to get the likeness right at that angle and do the lighting the way I wanted, so again I used some digital effects at the end to really intensify it. Painting before filters:

I think my favorite part of that one is how I dry-brushed the ash wings in one shot and they came out just how I wanted! My main reference was, heh, that old classic shot of unconscious Cas being poked with a stick. I used my own hand for Dean's reaching out to what he sees through the harsh angled light.

The final piece is a direct companion to the one above it, and one I'd been thinking about for weeks, trying to map it out mentally before tackling it. Dean's face can be so much more challenging for me to try to capture well compared to Cas's and I really wanted to get his shock and horror in that moment while also being able to show (the real) Cas in the background/shadows...this was the third drawing pass before I finally started painting it. There's only a light bit of filtering over the final piece to push Cas back in the shadows (I didn't want to do with the paints for fear of muddying the colors...plus I was already painting Cas so small any wrong brush stroke could shift his likeness/expression.)

Overall I really like how unified these pieces all ended up feeling and I hope they manage to complement the story in a way that it deserves!

#dcbb #dcbb2023 #sidewinder art #hawkland art #my art #destiel art #dean winchester #castiel #spn fanart #watercolor #art masterpost

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an3le3h · 2 months

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Visitors on the train

(I'm sorry for disappearing for a while, I was busy with family problems and some mental illnesses that prevent me from being happy😔, and also that I'm very focused on my comic book which I post on the Web toon, but I hope you like it a lot 🙂💞💞💞)

One dark night, Nico and Serafine were in a corner smoking and laughing about some situation, Halina didn't pay much attention as she was very focused on the train map, but it was difficult with the burning smell of cigarettes in the air.

Mordecai: so?

Halina: as the train will stop at this station, we can use it to sneak in.

Serafine: And why don't we just get to this station, shoot everyone and get the booze?

Halina looks indignant: this station also has normal passengers who will take normal trains, this includes children, elderly people-

Nico interrupted: we just don't shoot them

Halina: Have you guys never heard about "missed shot"? We can accidentally kill someone.

Serafine rolls her eyes and Nico laughs, both of them really didn't care much about the consequences. While Halina is distracted, Mordecai takes a look at the map and wonders...

Mordecai: do you think others will be crazy to get the drinks too?

Halina: I really doubt it, no one in the whole world knows about this, besides this train passing once a year... at least that's what Mr. Sweet said.

Mordecai lets out a long sigh, adjusting his glasses, something in the back of his mind said he wouldn't return home until 10:30 in the morning.

(train station)

Serafine would never think that so many people would want to take the train at night, but it makes it easier, many people hide it. Halina was attentive, she looked like a child who had just stolen coins from her father's pocket, she looked around, fussed, paid attention to all the trains... the only thing that could be heard was the clicking of her heels on the ground.

Nico: this train is taking too long.

Mordecai: you are too anxious.

Nico finishes smoking his cigarette, throws it on the floor and Serafine steps on it, after all, Nico wasn't wearing shoes.

Halina finally locates the train, the doors open and some train workers deliver some apparently normal packages... perhaps, Halina didn't want to think too much, she counted the perfect time and entered without anyone seeing, unlike Nico who had to knock out 2 people.

Halina: I say "be careful not to be seen" and you attract the attention of 2 people.

Serafine: well, it's not his fault he's so tall.

Nico gave a goofy smile while Halina swallowed her answer, Serafine was right. They thought everything would work out, but they didn't realize that another group had gotten on the train.

next stop: despair

Mordecai was looking for the boxes that could hold the drinks, but it was like a maze made of boxes, he never thought a wagon could be so disorganized.

Serafine: we've been here for hours, are you sure it's the right train?

Halina: yes, I'm sure Serafine: it doesn't seem like it.

Halina: what do you mean by that?

Serafine: mistakes can happen

Halina was quite offended and irritated by the comment, but she wasn't going to stoop to her level.

Mordecai looked from box to box, until the train gives a very strong swing and accidentally steps on something wet, he automatically becomes disgusted, but he looks further and realizes that one of the boxes was leaking.

Mordecai: I think I found the drinks. They both quickly go to where Mordecai is and locate the box, Nico opens it with some of his strength and surprise! A box full of drinks.

Serafine: it's like looking at a resources

Nico: and look, there's one already open.

Serafine, with a smile of victory, picks up the bottle that was leaking: well, we can't waste it Before Serafine can try the drink.

Halina takes it from her hand and closes the bottle tightly.

Halina: that bottle is not yours. Serafine is irritated, but accepts the answer.

After a few minutes, the train would stop at another station, and that was another's key to escaping with the drink and gaining her victory, Halina had come up with the perfect plan, nothing would get in the way. It was so wrong.

*in another carriage*

Girl 1: there is nothing in these boxes

Girl 2: it can't be, we've already looked at 3 carriages

Girl 3: there are still many wagons left, this plan is going to waste.

Girl 4: shhh

Girl 3: oh?.... She said "SHH" to me.

Girl 2: honey, you also need to be more comprehensive.

Girl 4: sshhhh

Girl 2:.....go to shit with your "shhh"

Girl 4: Listen!

The cats were silent to listen, and they heard someone celebrating because they found a drink.

Girl 4: shit, they found it first than us.

Girl 3: well, we just have to have a "very friendly conversation", after all, we are delicate ladies.

Both cats laughed at the idea, both were armed to the teeth and ready to make new corpses in the cemetery.

Halina was calmer but her peace ended when she found the carriage door being kicked open, Halina and the others were crouched on the ground and quickly grabbed their weapons, it wasn't a good idea to have firearms but they were the unique. options. There was dead silence in the carriage, only hearing the footsteps.

Nico whispers: is it a woman?

Serafine whispers: From the noise, the shoe seems to be of excellent quality.

Halina made an angry face that made the two brothers shut up, it was funny to see her forcing her face like that. The jump continued walking around the carriage looking for them, Serafine lifts her head a little and realizes that it was indeed a woman, she had short hair and was wearing a hat.

Nico looks along and smiles: it's easy, leave it to me.

Nico tries to come from behind, but is surprised by a very strong arm grabbing his neck from behind, how ironic.

Serafine shoots and almost hits the enemy, but the woman hits him in the stomach with a brass knuckle and he falls to the ground without air, Nico never thought a punch could be so strong.

Halina shoots, but misses and makes them both fall to the ground.

Halina and Serafine advance, but are surprised by 2 more armed people, she noticed that one of them had knives…… she was very confused.

While Nico was on the ground without air, the girl steps on his back, hurting him a little, Serafine shoots but receives another shot, which makes her very angry.

Girl 1: more visitors? Cool!

Girl 3: this drink is ours.

Serafine: this guy you're stepping on is ours.

Girl 4: look, we have things that everyone wants, how ironic.

Mordecai: we're not going to hand over the drink that easily.

Girl 2: and we're not going to hand over your friend that easily.

Halina:.... If you wanted, you could have already made holes in this carriage... what do you want?

Girl 1: how about a deal?

to be continued...

@wpk12art

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #meme #art #mordecai lackadaisy #lackadaisy serafine #nicodeme lackadaisy

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atvace · 3 months

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Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Chapter 11: Her Desire

"My sources told me they hosted a drinking party between the elites," He dropped down a few papers consisting of a few highlighted texts scattered around the table. "There will be the VIPs all around Las Almas gathering in." He rolled a map of Las Almas and pointed at a specific manoir.

"La casa de sin nombre?" Soap raised his eyebrow reading the manoir name in the map, "Actually no, it's one of their lugartenientes." Alejandro shrugged. "A cartel lieutenant..." The huge forehead chuckled, "You're learning, hermano." he ruffled some of the papers.

"Some are invited to the meet some are uh..." Alejandro rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Volun-told?" Graves raised his eyebrow "Yes-". Soap peered at the map, examining the terrains around the house. "What's the gathering about?" He asked, "Well, apparently they do this every Sunday night but this time there'll be a meeting too." He took a ballpoint and scribbled a few.

"And maybe about us too." He drops the pen down and tilts to Graves. "Las Almas is burning, and they want to know how lit the fire." Alejandro bit the inside of his cheek.

"Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?" Ghost rests his hand on the table. "No guarantees but this is our best shot. The least we can do is have a little more detail on intels."

Graves gripped his own vest before clicking his tongue, "So, how do we make it inside? It's a drinking party we can't just violently get in. We need El Sin Nombre alive." Everyone gazes at each other, then slowly shifts at you munching on Mexican ghost pepper chips.

"What?" You asked with a stuffed mouth.

Alejandro let out a cheeky grin before tilting his head to Ghost, "Don't tell me." The Lt shook his head, "Dior, can you speak basic Spanish?" Ale turned to you.

"Se espanol basica? si." You raised your eyebrow at his objection. Alejandro smiled, "Rodolfo, Give her something fancy! and a party mask." He walks towards the weapon armory. "Yes, boss." Rodolfo left the room in a swift. "That'll honestly do, I'll have my men on overwatch." Graves shrugged.

"Dior, you will infiltrate inside the mansion as a prostitute," Alejandro stated from afar. "Oh, fuck yeah. my time to shine, bitch." You excitedly put the bag of chips on the table and rubbed your stained finger to the vest, unbuckling it because you're going to change clothes anyway.

"You go by car with Soap, we'll drop you off by the main entrance. my men will be there to escort you inside," He grabbed something from a compartment. "He has a green suit, yeah?" He threw a set of small earpieces towards you which you caught with your left hand. "Easy does it." You slip it inside your right ear. It was too big for your ear entrance so you just slip it slightly.

"Don't engage with any mafia, be careful with your words, your fake name is..." Alejandro paused for a moment, "Valentina." You cooed jokingly. "Sure." Your lips parted in shock, you made up that name as a joke. "Pack up, vamos!" Alejandro left to get in the garage to announce the operation.

You pouted your lip trying to think of something, but you felt a presence in your side. "prostitute?" Ghost's deep voice could never fail to startle you now. "Yea, what about it, Casper. you want a piece of my pussy?" You sneered. "Thought it belonged to the cowboy hence he made you quite loud last night." He said whispering to your ear level before leaving.

'AIN'T NO GODDAMN WAY I WAS THAT LOUD LAST NIGHT' You shot his back with a small smile, even though he didn't see it he can feel it. your eyes twitched in embarrassment and your hand turned into a fist irritatedly.

Grave's hand was about to land on you but you uncomfortably dodged him, He turned his palm into a fist and awkwardly rested it to his hips. "So, Dior the sneaky infiltration again?" He chuckles at you, "Yea." Your short remark was enough to make him accept his defeat and leave with Alejandro.

Soap catches up to you which draws back your mood, "You okay, Dior? What'd Ghost said?" His smile warms your head by little. "Oh, nothing. He's just threatening me to not fuck this up." You lied, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly.

"I think you're a great lurker," Soap said to you as you two walked together. "Well, this time I'm going undercover. I hope I didn't get carried away." You sneered at the thought of dancing on the floor in front of mafias. "Well, then don't! gather info and flee." He remarkably said.

"Easier said than done."

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

You smeared your Glossier lipgloss across your lips giggling, kicking your feet, So excited about your mission. this is definitely your type of mission, you love your job, you live for this moment, and you are going to execute this with no hassle. Rodolfo definitely has a taste! he gave you a bodycon red slit dress with a long satin gloves in the same color. You look divine. (You always do)

"Excited, are you?" Soap's claim made you tilt, "Ah- Of course! Who wouldn't be?!" You grinned, "I love lurking in, pretending to be the spy girl in the mansion. I'm going to be the center of attention!" You swayed your hair.

"Yes, but you shouldn't expose your thighs too much, yeah?" Your smile drops and you look at him ferociously, "You've got exactly three seconds to take back what you say before I rip that fucking mohawk." His shoulder flinched a bit, his hand reached his pocket. "I'm so sorry, my lady I did not mean what I said earlier- Captain Price wanted me to give you this." He lends you what seems like a black belt with a knife pocket in it. "For emergency." He smiles as your eyes soften.

"My hands are full. Just put it beside me." You said reapplying a mascara. He paused for a moment before bending down to your side, You stopped whatever you were doing and watched him shift his hand to your knee and then your left thigh. the harsh surface of his gloves sharpens your breath, and the way he adjusted the belt thumps your heart harder. the way his fingers softly contact the soft flesh of your thighs turns you slightly red. He tightens the strap creating two hills between the black belt.

"That'll do." He got up and sat back to the seat.

You were stunned by the action he pulled. regaining consciousness, you pull your dress down so the strap isn't visible. "Very well, Mr. Soap. Very well," You look away at the car window watching the near-dusk scenery of Las Almas until the car stops in front of a cab.

You watched Soap exit the car and open the car door for you, lending you his hand. As you got up, he slowly held your hand escorted you to the white car, and opened the door for you again. "Stay safe, yeah?" "Thank you, Soap." You got in gracefully and stayed in the car.

As the car drove, you rested your chin on your hand looking out the window. scanning the mansion from your naked eye; there were multiple spots that were exposed to the outside. you figured your team should set up a sniper from. one of the taller buildings. seeing the tall black gate visible from the distance, you pull the party mask to your eye level, enough to give a little anonymity to your face. "I'm green." You coded to the radio. "Good, get back one piece." Ghost tuned into your earpiece.

The green-suited man has a mask covering his face like Ghost's but in grey. his eyes gave you the look before slithering his hand around your waist. As the two of you walked into the mansion and entered the elevator, his hand slipped a piece of paper into your gloves. you tapped twice at his finger as a code that you received it.

the sound of the elevator ding is heard and you walk outside toward the crowd of people. there was multiple outdoor pool with the green hills you saw when you were outside earlier. "Senora." A waiter handed you a tall drink, "Gracias." You awkwardly accept it and scooted over to the crowd light dancing.

you swayed your hips a few times and hummed to the unfamiliar lyric music blasting in a not too deafening volume. You rejected a few hands that tried to pull you. but in multiple times you gazed and one specific eyes, but you're not sure whos orbs those belong to.

A few men and woman with mask covering their faces lent you their hand but you dont plan on making any contact with those people. hence you're undercove rwith a knife up in your thighs.

In the left corner of your eye, you saw a glimps of a dark hazel orbs piercing at your shoulders like an eagle observing their prey. You tilt your head to the side slightly to see a woman few olders than you menacingly watching you from afar.

'Gyatt dayum,' you look away from her again.

You tilt your head to her again to check her out, 'Ooh she's a short hair.' you mentally giggled to yourself while pretending to look away.

You tried to steal another look of her but you've lost her. sighing in defeat, you decided to walk out of the crowd towards one of the outdoor pools. You expose yourself outside while pressing your bottom lip with the fancy glass, "All stations, I have eyes on Dior." Ghost's voice buzzed into your ear. You raised your glass to the hill where you think Ghost is and went back inside. But as you turned around, you bumped into someone and accidentally knocked your own glass to your chest, pouring the alcohol all over your torso. "Ah-"

Everyone's eyes pinned on you in an instant. "Dior, report on the situation. Why is everyone stunned?" Grave's voice echoed to your radio. "Ah, Lo siento, senoras." The woman that bumped into you walked towards you. "Dior, do you copy?" Ghost's voice gave a hint of annoyance.

"Ah, esta bien." You try to pat your soaked chest but nobody can get their eyes off you. The woman seemed irritated at the people staring at you. "Siguema." She grabbed your hand, pulling you into her close. the two of you fast walked toward a different elevator. you saw her tapping a card and pressed floor 2.

'AINT NO GODDAMN WAY SHE'S THE SAME PERSON EARLIER' you thinly smile to yourself as you stare at your arm squashed by her palm. she has a similar combat gloves as Alejandro's.

you were stunned at everything happening too fast but you tried to picture the woman that is probably helping you right now. She has cold-dark brown eyes with short black hair and a sharp eye. She wore some kind of a black turtleneck with dusty white jeans. in a few moments after staring at her, the elevator revealed the second floor. you followed her to a room with a large sofa and a few wardrobes.

"Sientate, te lo debo." She walked to one of the wardrobes and slid it open. You sat on the sofa and tried your best to gather your composure. after a few minutes, she turned to you and threw a pair of black sweater. "Pontelo. Mi agradecimiento." She stated with a slightly cold tone. You rest your palm to the folded sweater and looked at her, "que?" She crossed her arm to her chest whilst looking down on you.

"...Gracias, tu eres linda." You softly said, trying to sound convincing. You dug your head inside the sweater and poked your head out of the hole, but you see her face an inch close to yours, "I knew that you're not from around here. Who are you?" She squinted her eyes to see you. You felt caged but you need to improvise. "I'm a prostitute." You blurted out.

"What the fuck," She sneers which made something inside you twitched. "Puta prostituta." She nodded slightly at your stance. "..si?" You gave an obvious guilty smile. Out of the sudden, she slapped and grip your left thigh. You got slightly startled from her sudden action, letting out a soft moan.

She raised her eyebrow at your reaction and laughed, "Oh coño, you poor thing. Did I startled you, conejita?" She sneered at you degradingly. "I mean it's technically MY job," You gulped. "But since you gave me this sweater, maybe I'll let you have me for free?" You shot her an innocent stare. after a slight pause between the two of you, she scoffed and flashed a wicked eye.

"Who do you think am I?" She gripped your jaw to make you look closer at her. "My next." You confidently answered. "es esto lo que esperas de mi?" She poked your groin as you arched your head back. "maldita perre zorra, Es esto lo que quieres?" She knitted her eyebrow and pinched your clit through your dress. "Oh God-" "What tis your name, maldita?" She lets go of your crotch now crawling to you whilst pinning your hands beside you. one of her knee edged your clit.

"Answer me, you imbicile." She placed a pressure to your wrist and sensitive abdomen. "V-Valentina." You gasped for air. "Valentina? que interesante." She snickered. "Me pregunto si Valentina quiere que Valeria la ponga como una, puta." She whispered to your red ear and chuckled at your whinings.

You prayed to God she leave your panties alone because your undercover will be revealed. she thumped her knee multiple times into your sensitive covered sensitive entry while now devouring your neck, whispering unladylike wordd in spanish whilst her sharp long nails with coated red polish bruised your underjaw.

"Enjoyed checking me out, down there, Hm?" She shift her hand to make you face her. "Didn't expect you to look different from their papers," She smirked. "They didn't joke about sending me the best one." Your eyes widens at her remarks.

"Cuando bailas ahí atras", she impatiently flung one of your legs onto her shoulder "Me llamaste la atencion." She dug her knee even deeper into you. probably now bruising your entrance. "ahora tengo el tuyo." she smirked at the mess she making you.

The way she draws your body with her hands, shifting from your wrist to your collarbone and teasing the shape of your breasts between her sweater. you felt her hand gliding up and down motioning to memorise your body through her touch.

"tu gusta este?" She smirked in your cheeks while the tip of her thumb circled your cave slowly. you eyes rolled inside your skull, still mentally praying she didn't notice the knife strap Soap wore for you. "Make more noises, puta." Her thumb presses harder making a damp with your wetness.

Your whines turned into a moaning mess, your well-do hair is now a bird nest. She laughs at the side of your neck biting your earlobe, "Me gusta tu voz, let's take thi-"

Her words are cut off by a knocking door. "Boss, tienes una persona." a man spoke from the other side of the door making her groan. "Callate!" she shouted towards the door before grunting in annoyance, "Hey." She places her finger on your chin, "Don't think I'm done with you." She said leaving with a smile. "I'll get your contract extended."

Watching her left, "contract extended?" you quickly took out the paper that Alejandro's intel slid into your gloves. carefully reading the handwriting, it said 'segunda planta, 02 02 19' You rolled your eyes and crumpled the paper. "Very helpful, thank you."

You sat on the sofa dumbfounded with soggy panties. you looked behind you and saw a dark-tinted glass window, Without thinking twice you tapped the window and gazed around it. From up there, you saw Soap getting checked up by the guards before his head was sunk into a sack and forcefully manhandled into the mansion.

you gasped softly at the sight and tried to get into your radio. "This is Dior from the seco-" Your hand felt empty and your eyes widened after realizing your earpiece was gone. "Oh shit." You dug your whole palm inside your ear just to find it empty.

You quickly shuffled towards the door and turned the knob multiple times. just to have another realization that the door is locked from the outside. "OH SHIT." You breathed heavily and held your forehead to balance out your mind with the situation that happened. "No fucking way I'm trapped here to be a sex slave. fuck!" You walked around the room to think of a solution. "...And she DOES hiring a sex buddy. WHAT IF I GOT CAUGHT," You frustratedly run your mantled fingers across your scalp.

Let's learn how to break through your problem. You lost your earpiece, you have no contact with your teams whatsoever. Your only weapon is your knife but you can't use that yet because we don't want to break the glass with it, it'll be too noisy. You have a ticking time bomb before the REAL prostitute actually comes.

'Check the wardrobes.' The insides of your head echoed a voice in your mind.

You sprinted to one of the wooden wardrobes and furiously opened every single one of them. just to be disappointed that there are only dark-colored random clothes.

There was a military vest, few cargo pants, multiple pairs of jeans, and a hat. you took out the jeans and a few sweaters out of the wardrobe and ran back to the window, calculating the height of the building.

"This is some Rapunzel shit," you muttered whilst trying to tie the jeans and sweaters together.

Flashback

"Dior, Do you copy?" Ghost tuned into the radio watching you unfolding a scene by the pool. "Dior- bloody fucking hell." He gripped his sniper holster in annoyance, "What's wrong, Ghost?" Soap took out a telescope to see you from the distance getting dragged by a woman. "Oh yeah, that's bad."

"Did the princess drop her earpiece? Her signal seemed disconnected." Graves stared at Soap while staring at his combat tab and munching on a bread he packed himself for. "Well, that's on me. I think I gave her the wrong size." Alejandro rubbed the back of his head. "Fair blame." Ghost scoffed.

"If we decided that she's under hostage situation, I've got enough shadow to take over the whole damn country." Graves threw his wrapper off the building and walked towards the other. "I prefer if you didn't." Alejandro felt a little grudge in his tone.

Graves scoffed, "I'm just sayin, one house and a hostage wouldn't be a problem." He flexes. "We need el sin nombre and Dior alive." Alejandro knitted his eyebrow, "well... what if we meet him in person." The commander tilts to Soap.

"How?"

"Give them what they want. Dior is out of reach with no coms, but I'm sure she figured something." Graves gripped his vest. "Tell them intel, they wanna know whose here? tell 'em." Grave's expression stayed relaxed.

"In person?" Alejandro sharply stared at Graves. "Correcto." He slightly nodded. "Get one of us inside, find Dior, get to the boss, pack 'em up." He palms his knuckles. The three men paused for a few moments before Soap broke the silence.

"I'll do it."

Alejandro's eyes soften to Soap, "You go in there, they'll kill you, Hermano. we're not even sure if Dior is still alive." He slightly shook his head. "That's fine, I'll take my chances. Dior is inside, there's a possibility she's still alive. There's a missile we need to stop." Soap convinced. "I'll get inside, find Dior then offer intel to El Sin Nombre."

Ghost's sigh is heard as Soap continues. "And if they're there, we pounce." He finishes. Alejandro chuckled like a proud dad before resting his hand on Soap's shoulder. "Demonios si. tienes las pelotas es cabron."

Alejandro took off his vest, "To make it in, you'll need eyes and ears. I'll go too." He smiles. "I'll stay on overwatch again. Shadow circles the target on a helo." Ghost turns to Graves after Alejandro's decision. "Roger that."

Graves was about to reach his radio but stopped, "Oh if they want proof." He ripped off a Shadow Company badge from his vest. "Show 'em this." Soap took a good look at the ripped badge before fist-bumping Graves. "Call me when you need me." Graves walked towards the other side of the building. "Alright, let's gear up and get after it."

a little longer than a few minutes later

Soap's face was shoved into the elevator after getting questioned by El Sin Nombre. The female Sicaria leaned herself to the side of the elevator watching Soap stumbled. Diego slaps three of the buttons going from the basement to the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd floor. "Penthouse." He mumbles.

"Los Vaqueros is moving fast," He faced Valeria. "I'll be in the penthouse with sin nombre." She said in a cold tone whilst the sound of the elevator went up. "When do I see el sin nombre?" Soap's question made the two sicarios snickered. "Valeria is going to speak with the boss, you will wait with the others," Diego said with a hint of threat.

"I have a feeling, El Sin Nombre will be... very interested in talking to you." Valeria spat venom through her words. After a minute, the elevator dings. watching the elevator door unraveling, Soap flooded out his overthinking while it was greeted by a guard with a mask.

Soap walked out of the elevator, "This is where you wait, Soap." The mohawk slowly walks out of the elevator with a guard leaning by the side outside the lift. "Estaré en la ofrenda. No interruptan." Diego spoke coldly as the guard shoved soap against the window. "Si Señor." The guard deepen his voice as he patted Soap's body down.

"You're alive..." Alejandro's familiar voice relieves Soap's tense muscle. "Alejandro? You too mate." He muttered back. "El Sin Nombre's in the penthouse, third floor." "We'll need a keycard." Alejandro replied again.

"Diego has it." Alejandro searched his pocket. "Take this." he handed soap a throwing knife. "Sweet." Soap gladly stored it in his pocket. "This too," He handed Soap a white full head mask. "Why a mask?" Soap wore it anyway. "Some people here can't be seen with the cartel. comms are hooked in."

"Got it."

"You're good, let's head out."

Alejandro and Soap tried their best to not be seen too close together as they walked towards what seemed like a kitchen. The people on the floor have either left or somewhere else. it wasn't so crowded like earlier. "What've you got?" Ghost turned into Soap's radio. "El Sin Nombre is in the penthouse. third floor." Soap spoke softly.

"None of Dior?" Soap paused himself before answering, "Negative." Ghost's sigh is heard faintly through, Alejandro frowns at his concerns. "Don't worry. We'll give a shot on the elevator, we just need Diego's keycard." He looked around the mansion watching a few guards and a backdoor to the garage.

"Where Diego?" Ghost's shifting his sniper is heard on the radio. "Ofrenda, second floor." Soap said. "I think I know how to get to him." Soap stared at an unoccupied ladder with a few vines beside it and a vertical window. "Vamos, we'll get our hands dirty," Alejandro smirked beneath his mask.

end of flashback

You sat by the window, ripping and tying some of the clothings. you felt bad for doing this but you need to get out of there. It's been around 45 minutes since you realized your earpiece is gone. the sky has turned dark and surprisingly the music is fading. You could only hear people on a phone call or just chatting with one and another.

After finally finishing the last piece, you tied the end of the long handmade rope to the sova and walked towards the window. 'It is what it is' You pulled out your knife and broke the window by the butt side and threw the rest of the rope out of the window. As you jumped out, you were flabbergasted to see someone climbing up right beside you. he had a grey shirt, dark pants with a white robbery mask. the two of you stare at each other for a good few minutes.

"Soap?!"

"Dior?!"

'PSSAT' a bullet pierced close to the two of you. Soap drew out his gun and shot the guard right in the head. "Holy shit, what did you do?!" You gripped on your rope tighter. "No time to explain! Quick, take my hand." He lent out his hand as you grab him back. He lifted you over his shoulder and threw you to the 2nd-floor balcony on the other side of your window. "Go get cover, I'll explain later." He said grunting whilst climbing. "Solid copy."

You sprinted into the building facing guard, "Hold this!" You slashed their throat by throwing your knife through their jugular vein as they dropped to the ground with a seizure. You slide on your knees to take your knife back, "Ay, 'm takin this back. thank you!" You got on your feet and ran again. the sound of alarm blaring through the hallways eeried your ears.

You stumbled across a closet and pulled it open to see a medium-sized safebox, "Let's see what you're worth." You put in the code from Alejandro's intel, As it clicks open, a few papers fly out and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

"A fucking shotgun..."

"A fucking shotgun."

You jerked your head back to see Soap leaning into the content and cluck the close-range weapon to himself. "Dior, you want my USP instead?" He offered his gun. You took it and checked the mag to see it's barely used. "Fair offer."

The two of you walked towards another balcony to get on top of the rooftop. But unfortunately, there were several guards on watchout. You peeked and threw the knife at one of the guards, jumping over to get inside and shoot the remaining guards. Soap struggled to hop inside the top with his shotgun which resulted in you getting harmed fighting alone.

"Argh-" You shot a guard's knee before kicking him down with your heels. Another guard aimed their gun at you but their head explodes from a sniper. You looked up towards another building a few miles away to see a reflection of a light showing Ghost on overwatch. "Fuck, I'm sorry. You okay?" Soap got to your side. "Just a gash, let's go." You ignored your bleeding arm and quickly caught up to Alejandro.

"Dior."

"Ale-"

"Soap!"

The three of you looked at each other before Alejandro pointed at a certain chimney. "Elevator this way, we have no time left." Soap and Alejandro sprinted towards the ladder as you tried to catch up. You grunted in pain holding your left arm that spilled out blood.

Soap jumps inside to get on the top of the elevator as Alejandro realizes you're not there. He looked down to see you holding your arm in pain, "Cariño, estás bien?" He shouted from the top. You waved your hand away at him "Go without me!"

He furrows his eyebrow and tries to lend his hand to you, "It's too dangerous!" You shook your head, "Go get El Sin Nombre, I'll be fine I promise you!" He paused for a moment looking through your eyes before deciding to leave with Soap. you sighed in relief and went the other way.

You swore you saw something when you opened that safe. The papers that flew out weren't just ordinary papers, You tried to navigate yourself back to the 2nd floor. You saw multiple guards coming but you hid and shot them from behind counters.

outruning them from the hallways, you hid yourself inside the same closet earlier. You sat and took all of the papers trying to read it in thin light. But out of a sudden, you feel a breeze from your side from the guards opening your closet door with a rifle in his hand. you screamed in fear but he dropped to the ground in an instant. Your pupils dilate at the sight of one of the words in those papers as it flutters in the air shifting away from you.

'duties signed under Ma-'

Your gaze was locked on a shadow with a handgun in his hand as he lent you his hand again, "Dior, right? we caught El Sin Nombre. Let's go!" You tried to get up but the pain in your arm stopped you and made you drop the papers down. "Shit okay-"

He picked you up by the waist and carried you, "I'm sorry," he mutters softly.

#mw2 #modern warfare 2 #task force 141 #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty mwii #alejandro vargas x reader #valeria garza #valeria mw2 #cod fanfic

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afro-hispwriter · 2 years

Text

Untitled(Adam Warlock)

Adam Warlock x goddess!reader(more y/n flirting with him)

Summary- y/n has no filter

A/n- i couldn't wait for the movie😭so I just made something up

When your cousin Thor asked if you wanted to join him with Guardians you immediately said yes. You ended up getting along with them quite well, specifically Drax. He never failed to make you laugh along with Mantis.

You were currently trying to teach them how to play Uno and it proved to be more difficult.

"Wait so when I only have 1 card I yell Uno?" Asked Mantis and you fought to place your head down.

"Yes for the millionth time. Yes." You say and place a card. Drax looks at it then back at his cards. "Remember Drax same color or number."

"I got it don't worry." He reassured you and went back to his cards. He was just about to place his card down when a large bump hit the ship making stuff fall to the ground along with anyone who wasn't strapped in.

"Did we hit a metor?" Asked Rocket and Quill looked at the map.

"No theres nothing on the screens?" He said and looked around. Another large bump hit and you felt your stomach launch up.

"Maybe one of the ships thrusters is down?" You ask and Quill looks at the ship on the screen.

"No, no its fine." Nebula was about to say something when Thor burst through the small bathroom.

"Friends what is the commotion!?" He asked and everyone looked at him then covered their noses.

"What the hell Thor!" You say and squeeze your eyes shut. Thor looked at everyones reactions and his eyes widened before letting a big laugh out.

"Oh im sorry friends that last planet we were on, I did not mix well with the food." He laughed and you shook your head.

"And I thought I had large turds and a big smell." Said Drax and hour face twisted in disgust.

"Idiots." You hear Nebula say. Rocket and Quill were trying to figure out what was happening when you all heard footsteps above.

"Ill check it out." You say and fly off your feet just a bit to opened the hatch and slid through. You looked around but saw nothing, until a ball of flaming light appeared behind you. And as you slowly turned around some bard collided with your head and everything went dark.

Your eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the to what happened. Your legs were on the floor but you were moving, most likely being dragged. Your eyes took note of your surroundings and everything was gold. The person came a stop and you heard your companions start to groan.

"Not you again."

"Can you just drop the batteries."

"I am Groot."

"Ya they are sore losers."

The person dragging you dropped you roughly and you groaned.

"Cousin Y/n." You heard Thor say and you turn to see him on the floor as well. You got on your knees and looked to see who your captors were.

Sovereigns

You weren't to familiar with them but you did know they didn't tolerate many things.

"Guardians." You shot your attention to the front and saw a woman sitting in a chair. "You've stolen for us, ran from us, and destroyed our property. You shall be charged." With those words your eyes widened and you stood up immediately making everyones attention go to you.

"Um sorry Gold Lady." You say and raise you hands only to find them cuffed. "I wasn't with the guardians at the time neither was me and my cousin Thor." You point at Thor who was smiling at them and nodding. "So there is no need for us to be charhed with something we didn't commit.

"Wow what teammate you are." Quill scoffed.

"Im not going down for you." You seethe and look back. "I've only been with them for a few weeks, a month tops." You laugh nervously and Groot bumped you with his shoulder.

"I am Groot." He said and you gasped.

"Did you just call me a bitch!?" Rocket burst out laughing.

"Language." You mumbled, Rocket kept laughing and then Mantis reached her cuffed hands out and touched him then she started laughing. You shook your head and the sovereigns were trying to being the attention back when someone flew over your w and landed next to the gold lady.

"The ship is secured my queen." He said and lowered his head. You furrowed your eyebrows at this new guy.

"Who the hell is that?" Asked Quill and the Gold Queen lady and huffed before placing a hand on the mysterious mans shoulder. He turned around and your eyes could've bulged out of your head.

That is the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

"Whoah." You mumbled and met your eyes wonder everywhere.

"This is Adam, I created him." She says and you squint your eyebrows. "I created him to destroy you and-."

"Hey sorry again." You cut her off. "But I have a question." You saya and smile.

"Cousin what are you doing?" He chuckled nervously.

"Whats your question." She sighed.

"Um does he... have a penis?" You ask and everyone goes silent. Adam looked at you in confusion and looked back the queen searching for answers. "Because you couldn't have made that fine specimen and not given him one."

"I yes he does have one." She said.

"How big is it?" Drax took the words out of your mouth.

"You two are perverts." Said Quill and you and Drax gasped.

"Its an important question that needed to be asked." You say and straightened your back and looked at Adam and winked. He looked extremely confused before turning around.

"Should I shut her up?" He askedand you smirked again.

"Oh you can shut me up in so many ways, using so many-."

"Y/N!" Exclaimed Thor and you shut up.

"Please punish her first." Said Nebula and you though of something.

"Only if Adam over here is the one doing the punishing." He looked at you with wide eyes. Now he is very smart but from her words it sounds like she wants him to hurt her intentionally.

You weren't showing it but you were very embarrassed by your words. He wasn't reacting at all.

"Adam please escort this woman to the cells to await her trial." Adam nodded and walked towards you. The closer he got the more you realized he was very tall. Now you were tall as well, being a god and all, sporting a good 5'11 maybe 6ft. But he towered over you still. He grabbed your arm and tugged you forward roughly.

"Um excuse me, as my cousin said im also not in on any of this." He laughed, Adam stopped his steps and looked back. The Queen nodded and he grabbed Thors arm too. "Wait do you not need another guard?"

"Thor this guy knocked both of us out with one punch, he's fine." You say.

Adam shoved the two of you in separate cells and locked them. He was just about to walk away when you called for him.

"Hey Adam?" He walked back and stood with his hands behind his back and raised an eyebrow at you. "Im sorry for what i was saying back there, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"I can't feel anything." He said with no emotion and you bit your lip.

"Ya of course, um I guess." You say and lean back on your heels, you watched his face soften but then immediately harden again. He squinted his eyes and walked away, you watched his figure letting your eyes trail his muscles again.

"That was very hard to watch cousin." Thor said and you glare at him.

"Shut up."

#will poulter #adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter x reader

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kit-williams · 3 months

Note

Note: Barn Anon. decided to play around with this idea while zoning out through work.

He hoists his backpack higher as he trudges through the thick undergrowth. The mocking words of his fellow researchers echo in his mind and he grits his teeth. Soon, soon he will prove them wrong. His backpack suddenly gets pulls off him and he turns to see none other than his own Ultramarine staring back at him. No words are spoken but he can feel the disapproval and wariness in his gaze.

"Look, all I need is proof okay? Just something, anything! I know I'm right about this... You believe me don't you?" He looks up at his Ultramarine who has been his loyal pet friend for the past few years.

A deep sigh comes from the blue behemoth but his friend doesn't leave. Good enough for him he figures. Slipping a hang into his pocket he pulls out a map that's decorated with the ramblings of a madman and old drops of blood. But if he is right then the former owner of this map isn't mad, the former owner didn't die chasing fantasies. Crude sketches of landmarks and arrows with half sensible annotations give him the directions he seeks. A few more days of trekking through this unforgiving forest, just a few more days.

The sun was just starting to set behind the mountains when he spots it, rushing forward and ignoring the alarmed shouts from his Ultramarine. His eyes are set on the massive and slightly eerie run down structure in front of him. it looks like part of a fortress's outer walls. It's design reminds him of what that massive pack of Imperial Fists had built in the park near his home. Yet it has it's own distinct characteristics that differ from the typical fortresses built.

His Ultramarine is at his side and trying to pull him away from the structure but he pulls away from his pet friend. Instead he takes his camera out and starts snapping pictures. His eyes are drawn to an worn out symbol and he rushes to clear the leaves and vines off it. Could it be? The symbol of one of the Lost Legions? A frustrated grumble leaves his lips when he realizes it's getting quite dark. When he turns to get his backpack from his Ultramarine, he's annoyed when his Ultramarine refuses to do so and starts pulling at his arm.

Why? He knows how much this discovery means to him! With this he can prove to his fellow researchers that he was right! The Lost Legions? They still exist, far from the touches of human civilization. There's more breeds of space marines out there than they thought and he will be right!

Then his Ultramarine seems to have heard something. He lets out a startled shout when he's picked up and held over his Ultramarine's arm. His Ultramarine now at full sprint away with him from the structure. Anger and annoyance flares and burns only to sputter out when in the growing darkness, he spots shadows moving without a sound. Each one the size of a Space Marine yet with they have their own distinct style that mark them different from the Loyalists and Chaos that are already so well known.

Then a shot rings out. His Ultramarine falls and he hits the ground hard, half crushed under his Ultramarine. The last thing he sees are more silhouettes of the Lost Legion marines closing in as his Ultramarine tries fruitlessly to fight them off. He closes his eyes one last time.

He was right about the Lost Legions.

Barn Anon gonna be honest I feel like a publisher for your works because how do I add onto this? I spent the past 5 minutes trying to figure out how to add onto this.

I tried my best

Feel free to ignore my addition I decided to try something a little bit more horror? A little bit more dread? A little bit more

But like I said feel free to ignore this

He opens his eyes feeling sore... sore? He makes the mistake of looking down and swallowing a scream. There must be a tech-marine around or a techpriest as the leg that was crushed under his Ultramarine companion was fully replaced by mechanics that few people seem to understand how it works.

No one wants to look deeper into the sudden appearance of these demi-god like beings... no one wants to question their behaviors... no one wants to look beyond the surface that there are suddenly demigods who decided to spend time with certain humans. Everyone likes to joke how they adopted their marine when in the painful itching cancerous thought in the back of your mind tells you the truth... they chose you for some reason. To accept the love and affection that people give to them just like his Ultramarine.

They speak in that language that no one can really follow as soon the helmeted heads all turn to his groggy face. He is painfully aware of how thirsty he is and how weak he is. He's painfully aware of his own mortality is this how some owners feel right before they get mauled.

He sees his Ultramarine rush into the room and carefully pick him up.

"I was right." He says deliriously with a pale smile, "They do exist."

A childing sigh and some words he doesn't understand are the reply as an unarmored hand just pets his hand. In this situation he feels like the silly little pet that got hurt and just woke up... tail wagging and happy to see its owner.

"Rest." A raspy voice scrapes out from a hooded figure as he looks away from the uncomfortable face... with tubes and wirings pushing and plugged into human flesh. He never did like admech... far too horrifying. But he somehow heeded it leaving his Ultramarine to deal with the consequences of this expidition.

What was going to happen to them?

#space marine husbandry #Barn Anon #kit answers #answer #answered #reply #kit replies #tales from the barn #space marine husbandry sentience

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arvensimp · 1 year

Note

Hey, would you please be willing to write something where arven calls the reader a good girl/boy and maybe is just super big on praising us? (Nsfw preferred but if you want to write sfw that’s totally fine too!! I’ll be happy with anything) ❤️

Hello! So... pt. 2 to different kinda jelly ended up having these kindsa vibes? I hope you don't mind if I post it here? truth be told this was actually going to be longer, but then it got too long, so I split it up hehe. i'll have pt 3 out some other time if folks are interested.

Different Kinda Jelly Pt. 2

Jealous!Arven x fem!reader, you get sent back to Galar for a publicity stunt with Leon, and Arven isn't overly pleased with the matter.

"No. No, absolutely not."

La Primera sighs, folding her hands across the desk in front of you. "We'll make it well worth your while, of course."

"That doesn't matter! The last time I went to Galar, it nearly destroyed my relationship with Arven."

She raises a single perfect eyebrow. "I'm sure your...relationship...has only become stronger since then, wouldn't you agree?"

You splutter a bit, not quite sure how to respond to that. "S-still. It doesn't seem right."

"You have to understand," Geeta insists, maintaining her infamous cool head. "We're trying to put Paldea on the map right now, and Galar's league is one of our best shots. You already have rapport with their former champion."

Your face heats up a bit. You're not quite sure you like having rapport with Leon. You open your mouth to argue, but La Primera doesn't give you the opportunity.

"I know you're not overly pleased with press and paparazzi, but we could use the buzz. Just a little goodwill trip of friendship, hm? Maybe to show off that invasive charizard you caught during that bizarre event a few weeks back. The league was thinking we could use you two as a symbol of...friendship between our regions. Two champions, two charizards. It's perfect, don't you think?"

You really don't think this is a good idea at all. "So, what? You just want me to go over with Charizard, maybe have a few exhibition matches, take some pictures with Leon and be done with it?"

Geeta nods. "More or less. We just really want to drive home the idea that you and Leon are of the same caliber; that Galar and Paldea are of the same caliber."

"But I proved that months ago at the tournament."

"And we need to maintain the image."

You sigh. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"I'm afraid not."

"There's no chance you could just send Larry in my place?"

She laughs. "Maybe some other time."

"Fine. I have one condition."

"Yes?"

"Arven is coming with me."

"Done, but he cannot be seen with you in public."

"What?!"

"This is a business trip, and I won't have you turning it into some kind of honeymoon. Besides, you know we don't want the press to get the wrong idea about you...pursuing multiple men or some other nonsense."

"You're kidding me."

"Absolutely not. He does this or he doesn't go."

"...Fine."

Geeta smiles, and as usual, the warmth doesn't seem to reach her eyes. "Perfect. We'll have everything booked and sorted for you as quickly as possible."

You're on a plane to Galar with your boyfriend just a few weeks later. Convincing him to come wasn't easy in the slightest, but you feel a lot better about the whole ordeal knowing he's close by. You think he feels similarly, too. Even if he's grumpily refusing to talk for the time being, he's still holding your hand, occasionally brushing his thumb over yours in reassuring circles.

After landing, the two of you are quickly whisked from the terminal to your hotel in Motostoke. Arven whistles as he examines your suite.

"It's nice... La Primera didn't really spare any expense, did she?" He wanders over to the window to part the curtains.

"She really wants to make this work," You reply. "The Paldean League is like her baby, and she really wants it to thrive..." You meet your boyfriend by the window to check the view...to see that there is none. Your window looks directly out at a brick wall, and you can't make out the street below or the roof above.

"Wow, she was serious about trying to keep 'us' hidden."

Arven gives you a confused look.

"The Galarian paparazzi are beyond nuts. If they wanted to find me or get pictures of me in the room, they'd do it. Looks like she made sure they couldn't."

Just then you hear a knock on the door.

"Am...Am I supposed to hide or something?" Arven asks you softly. You shrug. "I dunno. Let me check who it is first?"

Arven conceals himself, just to be safe while you answer the door.

"My Paldean Champion! Welcome back to Galar!" Leon greets you with his 10,000 gigawatt smile, sweeping into the room with a flourish. It seems for the time being he isn't wearing a cape, but his signature cap is still perched on his head like a crown.

"Leon..." You return his grin nervously. "How...nice to see you." You smile through your teeth, shutting the door firmly behind you.

"I hope it wasn't too forward of me to show up so soon after your arrival! I was just so excited to see you again!" He says in thickly accented Paldean that he's clearly been practicing since last you saw him.

"It's fine... Listen--"

Leon grabs your hands and swings you in a wide circle, making you cry out in surprise. "Oh, we've got some great stuff planned for this trip! Just you wait! I'll be taking you to Ballonlea, we'll have a battle together in Hammerlocke, Charizard vs Charizard, of course," He laughs, "And then--"

Arven clears his throat loudly from behind Leon. The latter stops and turns, still holding onto your hands which you gently pry yourself from, as you make your way to Arven. He slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in a bit tighter than he probably would in anyone else's company.

"Leon, you've...uh, met Arven. Remember?"

Leon's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, then he cracks his fist against his hand. "Yes! Yes! The boyfriend! How are ya, mate? Sorry about all that mess last time. Good to make your acquaintance." He reaches out a hand.

Arven takes it, and the two shake hands gruffly. "Yeah. Same to you, buddy."

"So, Leon." You interrupt before things get even more tense. "I understand this trip is to do some publicity for Paldea and stuff... But, just so we're clear..." You take Arven's free hand. "Arven is my partner, okay? I, or, uh... We don't want...any scandal or anything like that. Y'know?"

Leon smiles brightly at the two of you. "I completely understand! The plan is to just...create an image, yeah? Nothing for the cameras will be real. We can just have fun with it. Sound good?"

You look to Arven, and the worry must be clear on your features. He squeezes you just a bit tighter against him. You sigh. "Yeah."

"Great! Shall I take you to dinner then?" He asks.

"Actually... Do the paps know I'm here yet?"

Leon shakes his head. "If they do, they don't know you're at this hotel."

"Perfect." You look to Arven. "How about we have dinner in then? Just get takeaway or room service?" Arven nods and opens his mouth to reply.

"Oh, that sounds grand!" Leon says. "I can get something and bring it back for us. Here, what are you in the mood for?" He takes out his phone and starts searching for local restaurants.

Arven blanches, looking to you to un-invite the Galarian.

"Leon, maybe... Uh..." You start to say, and the man in question turns his head to you, looking as excited as a little greavard. Your heart melts, and you can't bring yourself to fix his faux-pas. "...Do you know any good curry places or chippies? I really want Arven to get a proper taste while we're here."

"I know just the place!" He tells you both, standing. "I know just what to get us, too. I'll be back in a jiff!"

Arven full on balks at you once you're alone again. "Are you serious right now?"

"I know!" You cry, throwing your head into your hands as you fall back onto the bed. "He just... He seems so excited, ya know? I don't wanna hurt his feelings."

"That's fine. I will, then!" Arven tells you. "Seriously, if you keep trying to spare his feelings like this it's just gonna hurt him more."

"That's the thing." You reply. "I... I do think he gets that I'm not into him. I think he's just kinda...forward. Lively. Ya know?"

Arven scoffs. "I thought Galarians were supposed to be stuffy and uptight."

You laugh, teasing him. "Yeah, and Paldeans are romantic and take naps every afternoon."

"I'm romantic!"

"Hm..." You tap a finger to your lip, thinking. The mirth in your tone is obvious. "Are you? Maybe, sometimes."

"Oh, come on!" Arven pulls you into his arms, nosing up against your collar bone. "Don't be like this, sweetness." He whines. You laugh, as he unintentionally tickles you with his soft hair.

"Fine, fine! I give, you're a romantic! You're a sweetheart and the love of my life!"

Arven joins in on your laughter and lovingly kisses at the spot he was just pressing up against. "I thought as much..."

The two of you lay there on the bed, enjoying the silence and one another's company for a long moment.

"How long do you think it'll take him to get back?" Arven eventually asks. You shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. If he's anything like how he was last time, he's probably gotten lost on the way to the chippy, so we might have to wait a minute."

He's quiet for a moment. "So..." One of his hands creeps up your thigh suggestively. "Wanna risk it?"

You smile, widening your legs for him without thinking. "Why not?"

Arven grins boyishly as he moves to straddle you, stripping his shirt as he does. He leans down to kiss you, and you eagerly meet him in contact, humming happily against him. One of your legs hooks behind his knee, bringing him just a bit closer to you, letting him lean a bit more of his weight on top of you in a deliciously smothering way. You kiss him with a bit more urgency, gasping softly between each one. One of your hands travels up the nape of his neck, twisting fingers into his wavy hair and scratching lightly at the sensitive skin. Arven responds with a pleased, grumbling hum from the lowest part of his register. He pulls away from your mouth to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck instead.

"How about I leave you with some nasty little bruises here, huh? Make sure that guy knows who you belong to?"

You gasp out Arven's name with a hitched cry as he finds a particularly sensitive spot beneath your ear.

"You like that? You want everyone to know you're mine, right?"

You nod and moan out a pathetic sounding "U-uh-huh..." As Arven continues his work on you. You roll your hips up to meet his without thinking, eager for some kind of friction. He chuckles lowly at your shameless display.

"I love getting you all worked up like this, ya know? You're so easy to tease..." He goes back to ravaging your neck, placing a lot of attention on that singular spot he found a moment ago that had you turning gooey on him. When he's done there, he moves to nibble at your earlobe, breathing warmly into the sensitive skin, making you shudder and grind up against him all the more needily.

"Please, Arven..." You whine as you make futile attempts to get any kind of satisfying friction.

"Use your words, Sweetness..." He hums against you while one of his hands slides up under your shirt and bra to palm one of your breasts. You arch your back at the contact, groaning.

"Please touch me!"

He goes to start kissing the other side of your neck, likely thinking to make symmetrical marks on you, the bastard. "Mmm... Pretty sure I'm already doing that..." He says as he rolls his hips slowly against yours. Truth be told you don't feel much between your clothes and his, but you can still tell you're wet and he's hard from all of this, and it's driving you wild.

"C-C'mon..." Your hand leaves his hair, and you go to unbutton your pants, but Arven stops you. He presses your hand into the pillow by your head.

"Absolutely not." He warns, and you whimper, clamping your thighs around his hips without thinking. "I'm taking care of you, but you need to use your words."

"Pl-...Please...let me cum for you...?" You ask with an unsteady voice.

"There's my good girl..." Arven smiles against your skin. The hand that was massaging your tit moves down to flick open the button on your pants. You wiggle out of them quickly, and Arven barely needs to move for how fast you kick them off. He laughs low and sweet. "So needy, aren't you, Sweetness..." His fingers go to part your folds and you whine, rolling your hips against him. "And so wet for me already? Oh, that'll do just fine, won't it..."

He starts to circle his fingers around your clit, occasionally pressing against the bud or dipping a finger down to drag just outside your entrance. You cry in frustration when he refuses to just fuck into you like you want.

"P-Please, Arven... Inside?" You finally bring yourself to ask as he kisses and sucks at the base of your throat in a way that has you feeling breathless.

"There you go..." He finally acquiesces and lets one of his long, slender fingers breach your entrance, pushing into you with a wet sound that should have you more embarrassed if you weren't so worked up. One finger soon becomes two, and they both pump into you at a gloriously aching pace that has you choking on moans of Arven's name.

"That's a good girl, sweet girl..." He praises as he brings his thumb into the mix to press against your clit.

"C-Close..." You manage to stutter out between pitchy whines.

"You cum for me whenever you like, sweetness. I'm here..." Arven tells you, kissing at one of the rapidly darkening bruises he left on your throat.

And it doesn't take much from there before you're tumbling over the edge into sweet bliss, your cunt squeezing tight and rapid against Arven's fingers. Once you're well and truly mush beneath him, Arven drags his digits from you, pulling gently and agonizingly all at once, such that you shudder when he finally leaves you.

"Good?" He asks, and you can only nod. "You ready?" He asks, and you nod as you hear him fumble with his fly.

He lines up with your entrance, his boxer briefs and pants slung low on his hips when you hear a knock at the door.

"..."

"...If we pretend we're not here, maybe..?"

Another knock sounds, louder this time, then you hear Leon's voice calling your name. "You in there?"

Arven collapses on top of you with a frustrated groan.

"One second!" You call out, breathless and very much annoyed. Arven rolls over.

#arven fanfic #arven x reader #arven x female reader

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